#small businesses are struggling because of how expensive the necessary things like rent and food are

[amethystspaceprince]

People talk about the cost of small business products but that’s not the issue.

The issue is living in Australia and therefore being so far away that delivery costs so much extra

[magicalbats]

Fantasies Play Out

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 18.921

Warnings: aphrodisiacs, pining & yearning, pathetic soggy men. femdom, overstimulation, handjobs, PIV, cowgirl position, dacryphilia, rimming, anal fingering, prostate massage, edging & orgasm denial

A/N: Alright, here's my longest comm yet. I'm so, so happy the commissioner gave me permission to post this because I simply MUST continue to spread my femdom agenda, and what better candidate exists for tribute than Kaveh? lol This was written using one of the lovely @tearsofcalamity's OC's, her name is Jeanne and she's ... quite the woman, haha. If you're anything like me you shouldn't have any problem at all self inserting with the text left as is so ... please enjoy! ❤️

⭐

Peering sullenly into his open wallet, Kaveh breathes out a single lamentable sigh over how much lighter it now was. Practically empty by all accounts, and what little mora he did have left would go very quickly. This he knew a little too well. 

He was struggling. No ifs, ands or buts about that. Between trying to stay caught up on the rent and his considerable debt payments (which hardly even put a dent in the total sum he owed to the renowned Lord Sangemah Bay) as well as the quite necessary bottles of wine he purchased for himself at the taverns and the shops, it was all going to be gone again in frustratingly quick order. And he’d only just returned from his most recent job out in the arid desert too. What a shame. 

It couldn’t be helped though. He’d needed these components for Mehrak and there wasn’t any getting around the costly price tag that came with them when one was working with a piece of complicated machinery as old and mysterious as his little helper was. He couldn’t exactly begrudge her for that. Mehrak may have been a costly sinkhole, an extra expense he hadn’t needed, but she was also an exceptionally good assistant. And, well. Perhaps she also helped chase away some of the isolated loneliness he’d felt closing in around him since he’d lost everything he’d worked so hard for, but there was no sense in dwelling unnecessarily on that. 

Mournfully clasping the purse shut and tucking it away into the safety of his pocket, Kaveh says to the ironworks shopkeep, “Thank you, Rahid. I appreciate you always keeping these bits and baubles on hand for me.” 

Because of course Mehrak needed parts of a very specific dimension that weren’t found anywhere else in modern Sumeru so they needed to be custom made. A costly sinkhole indeed. 

Sitting behind the counter, the elderly man sends him what can only be a sympathetic look from under the bushy, dusted gray droop of his eyebrows. He was happy to make the petite screws and nuts, and odd shaped bolts Kaveh needed since it kept food on his family table but evidently he wasn’t without his scruples. He’d certainly been around long enough to recognize when someone was limping steadily towards his last leg, yet he could only discount his wares so much without giving them away for free.

His sympathy just makes the blond’s stomach flip in on itself though, and he quickly busies himself with gathering up the handful of metal pieces laid out between them on the counter of the small shop. Pity was the very last thing he needed right now. 

“You should take it easy, old friend. You’ve been working an awful lot lately.” Rahid says in his usual low rumble, his voice permanently raspy after a lifetime spent working the forges, breathing in all the hot steam and iron smoke of his craft. 

“Ah, thank you but I’m afraid I don’t have any time for that at the moment. Someone is always in need of an architect, aren’t they? Busy, busy, busy.” Kaveh tries for nonchalant, tries to laugh it off like it’s no big deal as he slips Mehrak’s new screws into his other pocket where they wouldn’t stab him the next time he reaches for his wallet, but Rahid hardly seems convinced. 

In fact, the way he stares at him over the counter would seem to suggest that he could smell bullshit from a mile away, and he wasn’t impressed with Kaveh’s attempt at deflection. 

His deliberately casual laughter quickly morphs into nervous chuckling. “Hey, now. What’s with that look, huh?” 

Rahid narrows his eyes as if he wanted to give Kaveh a right and proper tongue lashing but says instead, “Well, as true as that may be - and I don’t doubt that it is given the quality of your work - you should still make some time for yourself. Take it from an old coot like me. You’re still young and capable. Don’t get so focused on your livelihood that you forget to live a little. You’ll regret it when you get to be my age. Surely there are some girls around the city who have caught your eye that you’d like to get to know?” 

Well, there was one, but she wasn’t from the city, or even Sumeru for that matter. 

She also wasn’t what Kaveh would call a girl either. 

Thoughts drifting idly to Jeanne only to inevitably take up camp there, Kaveh decides that she’s all woman and what a woman she was. 

Fontainian by birth and blood, she was an enforcement officer of the Maison Gardiennage who came to Sumeru on business with some amount of regularity. What that entailed was more often than not tracking down scoundrels that thought escaping to the opposite shore of the vast sea would save them from her wrath, or mora hungry merchants with a penchant for trouble and a bit too much free time on their hands. 

They’d happened to run into each other during one such incident involving a Fontaine trader who was underreporting his earnings to avoid paying all the taxes he owed. Having been in the wrong place at the right time, Kaveh, young and just as naive as he was now, had very nearly gotten duped out of a month's worth of pay by the shady businessman. But then Jeanne suddenly appeared like the hero in a storybook to interrupt the transaction before it was too late, saving him from what, in retrospect, had clearly been a scam. She’d made quick work of the lout and the two of them had become fast friends after that. Even now it struck Kaveh as being curiously fateful, that initial encounter. Like he was some hapless damsel in distress and Jeanne the noble chevalier of justice. 

But that was about where the fanciful tale ended. Years later they were still just friends despite Kaveh’s occasionally wistful thoughts to the contrary of someday being more and it’s not as if anyone could really fault him for that. 

Jeanne wasn't only pretty, she was downright stunning. And not in spite of the bisecting scars that ran across her face but because of them. He’d never seen someone quite so beautiful or captivating, and he more than anyone else had an eye for that sort of thing. There were very few in this world who understood the concept of aesthetic objectivity quite like he did, especially when others were much too focused on their own predefined subjective tastes to look past that. In many ways, Jeanne was the kind of woman he could see himself wanting to spend the rest of his life with. 

Unfortunately for him, she was unflappable and largely oblivious to the puppy faced looks of wanting he’d sometimes catch himself leveling at her, especially when they were drinking together. She always seemed to think it was just the wine talking, influencing his behavior and making him more needy (and whiny) than he normally was. Of course she wasn’t exactly wrong about that, but it was beside the point. While Kaveh undoubtedly appreciated her willingness to humor him in her own curious way during such moments, it didn’t exactly do much to soothe the yearning in his heart. More than anything he wanted Jeanne to take him seriously, but it looked like that was never going to happen. 

He's so caught up in these spiraling thoughts that he doesn’t even realize he’s letting out another groaning, long suffering sigh until Rahid chuckles a knowing sound in return. 

“That bad, eh?” 

Kaveh snaps his attention up, surprised at his own slip. “What? No. Nothing’s bad. Everything’s great, in fact.” 

The aging ironworker pins him with a critical, wisened look that seems to speak volumes. Clearly there would be no fooling a man nearly triple his age who’s been around long enough to have already seen and done it all, but that doesn’t exactly make Kaveh feel any better about being so damn transparent. 

“I’m afraid there’s no hiding it, boy. You can lie to yourself if you like but there’ll be no pulling one over on this old dog. I’ve heard that kind of sigh before. You’ve got a little sweetheart, don’t you?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He huffs, fluster quickly creeping up on him like a potent, thrumming buzz. “She’s not little. Th — I mean. I mean she wouldn’t be, if there was someone like that. But there’s not. I don’t have the time–“

“Alright, alright,” Rahid mercifully cuts off his floundering with a wave of his wrinkled hand. “I get it. There isn’t a girl you’re soft for.” 

“A woman.” Kaveh can’t help but correct him even when he knows he’s only digging his own grave deeper still. 

“Yes, of course. But if there was … what would be stopping you from courting the young lady? Surely you don’t lack for confidence? A handsome and successful architect such as yourself should have no problem getting anyone at all you set your sights on.” 

The blond hesitates, opening his mouth and then closing it again in favor of chewing on his bottom lip instead. He was tempted, oh, he was very tempted to lay it all bare. It’s not like he had anyone else to confide in about this sort of thing without running the risk of being laughed right out of the room. Or worse, stared at in contemptible silence and wordless judgment by the likes of that blasted Al-Haitham. He’d sooner take all his secrets to the afterlife before ever trying to have a discussion like this with the scribe. 

But Rahid was an old friend whom Kaveh has known for many years now and a decidedly trustworthy individual. He’d never sold him faulty parts or tried to price gouge him, hadn’t even asked what he needed these peculiar components for like many others might have. If there was anyone who could be trusted with this information it was probably him. 

Cautiously, Kaveh sends him a slow look of consideration. “Hypothetically speaking?” 

The old man nods in agreement. “Aye. Hypothetically.” 

“Well … if there were someone — and do keep in mind that this is purely speculative conjecture — if there were someone like that and they genuinely didn’t seem to realize I wanted to pursue them, what else could I possibly do to get my feelings across? Especially if they don’t even live here and I only get to see them on occasion …” 

Rahid lifts his brows in surprise. “She’s not from Sumeru?” 

“Hypothetically!” 

“Hmm. Well, I can see how that might cause you some trouble then. Trying to make a long distance relationship work is always hard. But, tell me boy, have you actually told her what you’ve just told me?” 

“I — I have, just … not in quite so many words, I guess.” Feeling his cheeks grow hot at the unbidden memory of grumbling out a half baked attempt to flirt with her the last time Jeanne had been in town, Kaveh drops his gaze and anxiously shifts from one foot to the other. It hadn’t worked, of course. He’d been so drunk and vibrating with liquid courage that he couldn’t even remember what exactly he’d said to her. All he knew with any certainty was that she’d softly tutted at him that he’d had enough for one night before wandering off to fetch him a glass of water. The lingering embarrassment was almost enough to make him feel faint. 

But at Rahid’s pressing sound of encouragement, Kaveh jumps at the chance and recounts the whole sorry tale to him in an impulsive rush that comes pouring from his mouth, unable to stop it even if he’d wanted to. He tells the old man everything; how they met, how simultaneously wonderful and imposing Jeanne could be at the same time and yet how oblivious she still seemed regarding his feelings. He even lamented, ad nauseum, how she never lost her composure while they were drinking long into the night together and how he couldn’t figure out how to crack her shell because of it. 

Eyes brightening at that last bit, Rahid abruptly leans forward against the rickety counter as if in great interest. “That right there sounds like your chance, boy. If she won’t hear you out sober, then you should do it when her guard is down. Everyone is more open to suggestions when they’ve got alcohol in them.” 

“But that’s the problem. No matter how much she drinks, she never lets her guard down. I don’t exactly consider myself a lightweight but she’s got the tolerance of a bear!”

“I see.” Murmuring thoughtfully, Rahid leans back to cross his arms in consideration. It’s clear he’s pondering over something with all the appropriate weight and gravitas the situation calls for. But he reaches his conclusion surprisingly quickly — much more quickly than Kaveh could ever make up his mind — and he stands with a soft scrape of his stool against the shop's floorboards. “Give me a moment. I think I may have something that could help you.” 

Blinking owlishly, Kaveh tracks his steps over to a stout cabinet pushed up against the side wall where he slides open one of the drawers with a dull jostle. 

“What do you mean? Don’t tell me you’ve got some hundred year old snake wine waiting on standby for just such an occasion or something?” 

“Ehh, not quite. But this should do just as well, if not better. Here we are.” Pulling out something that remains unseen in his blocky fist, Rahid closes the drawer back up and returns to the counter. Kaveh isn’t quite sure what to expect, but the petite glass vial he holds out to him is somehow the very last thing he could have guessed. There’s a faintly pinkish liquid inside that sloshes against the interior at the slightest shift and, squinting, Kaveh leans closer to get a better look. 

“What is that, some sort of alchemical potion?” 

“You’re not wrong, but you’re not exactly right either. Just take it. Trust me. You’ll be grateful you did the next time this young lady is in Sumeru. A few drops of this in her drink will have her, uh, loosening up quite a bit and you’ll have your chance to talk to her as much as you want.”

Kaveh shoots him a plainly horrified glance. “Are you telling me to drug her? She’ll kill me, Rahid, have you lost your mind?” 

“Archons above, this isn’t going to incapacitate her or nothing like that. Relax. My wife and I use this stuff to get in the mood with one another in our old age, that’s all. It just helps us with the warm up, if you get what I’m saying.” 

The blond offers a soft sound of enlightenment as if he understood perfectly now but, given the way Rahid critically eyes him, it’s clear the older man isn’t entirely convinced he does. 

For better or worse Kaveh is much too preoccupied with staring at the small vial in rapt fascination to notice though, and his hands idly clench into greedy fists where they’re braced against the counter. Regardless of his understanding or not, there was no denying the wisdom in Rahid’s suggestion. If Jeanne wouldn’t allow herself to drop her walls naturally then giving her a little nudge in the right direction was just the logical next step, wasn’t it? He was always much more loose lipped with a few drinks in him so if he could coax her into being the same … 

This really might be the thing that would finally tip the scales in his favor where the Fontanian woman was concerned. 

“How … how much would you want for that?” He finally brings himself to ask. 

“Nothing, old friend.”  The soft note of sympathy in his voice is clear as day, and it brings Kaveh’s attention up with a snap. Ignoring his hurried protests, Rahid reaches across the counter and bullies the glass bottle into his fumbling hands, adamantly refusing to take ‘no’ for an answer. “Like I said, just take it. You need it more than I do, don’t you boy? My wife and I can get by without. Besides, it sounds like your situation is much more dire anyway. Just promise me you’ll take a break from working so much and put it to good use, eh?” 

Gently cradling the vial in his palms like it was some sort of precious, highly fragile artifact, Kaveh gropes for something to say. He couldn’t very well let it slip that he didn’t have much choice and reveal just how far from grace he’d fallen in the process, not without permanently staining his reputation as a capable and respected graduate of the Akademiya. 

But the greater meaning behind this gesture is not lost on him. Not by a long shot, and he finally settles on, “Thank you, Rahid. A thousand times, thank you. I hope you know how much I appreciate this.” 

Dismissing him with a brief wave of his hand, the old man quickly turns away, giving him his back. “Not another word about it, Kaveh. Now get out of here. Before I change my mind.” Then, like an afterthought, he adds, “I’ll make sure to have more of those components on hand for the next time you need them. Take care of yourself out there.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The little bell over the door chimes a merry sound as he steps out into the street and the humidity dense, year-long heat of Sumeru. The city is a constant buzz of noise and bustling activity, myriad smells from nearby cafes and vendors, but Kaveh hardly notices any of it while he makes his way down the road. His attention is all for the petite vial in his hand, so slight yet monumentally heavy against his palm. 

It was strange to think that something this small and seemingly benign could potentially be the answer to at least one of the many problems in his life. But as they say, matters of the heart are some of the most significant and challenging one can face, and he was inclined to agree. 

Financial problems could be parsed and sorted out in due time. Hell, even his living arrangements seemed stable enough for him not to have to worry about it too much at the current moment. Al-Haitham, for all of his bad attitude and unreasonable nature, seemed perfectly content with the way things were, even if Kaveh did sometimes suspect he’d only reached out a hand to lorde it over his head. Did that really mean it was okay for him to be expending this sort of energy on the issue of Jeanne rather than any of his other troubles though? 

“Well,” He murmurs softly under his breath, consideringly turning the bottle this way and that to watch how the rosy liquid inside reflects in the sunlight. “There’s no telling when I’ll even get to see her again so I think this should be fine. At least I’m prepared now.” 

Which was more than could be said before that exchange with Rahid. He’d have to remember to thank him properly for it later when he was back on his feet again, especially if the mysterious concoction ended up working a veritable miracle. Hopefully that wouldn’t be too far out in the future.  

Moreover though, the implication of what he was holding in his hand was a bit too tempting for him to think any better of it or reconsider his ready acceptance of this gift. Rahid had only said it would loosen her up but what exactly did that entail? He’d never seen her lose her composure before so Kaveh had no idea what that might look like. Would a truly inebriated Jeanne be clingy and soft with him? Prone to whining, the way he sometimes was? Or perhaps she would allow herself to laugh more openly, more freely without her self imposed walls there holding her back. 

The thought alone makes him huff a quiet laugh as he makes the turn into the packed market square, intending to cut through to get home a little quicker. “Yeah right, maybe when shroomboars sprout wings and fly. That would be awfully cute though …” 

And if her lips were loosened enough to coax a long anticipated yet never realized confession out of her? All the better then. She may not have taken him or any of his prior attempts at flirting seriously but surely she wouldn’t discredit her own actions once everything was said and done, right? 

Feeling oddly optimistic about the situation, Kaveh lifts his head to pay attention to where he’s going only to damn near drop the bottle in surprise when his eyes immediately alight upon a tall figure. The height as much as the manner of dress makes her stand out in the crowd, a feathered cap and a heavy coat worn over the shoulders that are at complete odds with the common attire. The burgundy red hair is what truly strikes a familiar note of wanting in his heart though, and he comes to an abrupt, lurching halt to stare at her in disbelief. 

She hasn’t noticed him just yet, only halfway through the motion of turning away from the owner of the shawarma stall she’d stopped at, but it didn’t really matter. He still recognized her on such an intrinsic, bone deep level that a shock of static electricity promptly surges through his entire body to set him abuzz from head to toe. Mouth going drier than the desert plains, he openly gapes at her like a beached fish. 

She notices him standing there another heartbeat later and, blinking at him in her closest approximation of startlement, Jeanne moves to face him. “Oh, what a coincidence. I was just on my way to pay you a visit. How have you been?” 

Kaveh fumbles desperately for something intelligent to say, coming up decidedly empty handed. It was like just the sight of her had short circuited his brain so beyond repair that no amount of trying to kick start it back into gear was working. There was simply no way, no way she’d just so happened to appear before him like this though. Was someone playing a cruel joke on him? Or had he finally cracked under the building pressure piling up around him and he was now hallucinating the singular object of his desires? 

But the longer he goes without responding the more her usually stoic expression pinches in vague concern, and he finally has to force himself to clear his throat with a rough cough so he can speak. “I - I’m fine. Good. Better than ever, in fact. What about you? I wasn’t … I didn’t expect to run into you like this.” 

Her suspicions evidently alleviated, Jeanne allows her expression to fall back to her usual neutral mask again. “I'm well. I thought about sending you a letter of correspondence prior to my arrival but I figured a surprise would do just as well. It’s not often I get the chance to drop in unexpectedly like this, after all. And for the better, it seems. Were you just on your way home?” 

“Oh, yes, I was just …” Kaveh trails off when a cold note of terror races down his spine. She didn’t yet know he’d lost everything. All of his furniture, his house, his beautifully maintained garden on the veranda that now belonged to someone else who’d no doubt swooped in like a vulture to buy up the gorgeous property he’d had no choice but to sell. He didn’t have a home to go back to unless you counted Al-Haitham’s largely minimal space and there wasn’t a god strong enough in this world or any other that could make him take her there. Even if she had sent him a letter there was a very real chance he never would have gotten it. 

“Kaveh?” Jeanne’s voice breaks through the muddled mess in his head as abruptly as if she’d sucker punched him, and he snaps out of it with a jolt. “Are you quite alright? You look a little pale to me.” 

“I’m fine!” He insists, a bit more loudly than he’d intended, only to grimace when she narrows her eyes again with renewed suspicion. “Sorry, sorry. I promise I’m fine, honest.” He quickly tries again, much more softly this time. “I just got back from a job out near Aaru Village, that’s all. I guess I’m still feeling a bit fatigued but it shouldn’t be anything a glass or two of wine won’t fix, haha… Come on. What do you say? For old times’ sake?”  

At his nervous attempt at laughter, Jeanne breathes out a quiet sigh and shakes her head. “Wine isn’t the solution to all of life’s problems, Kaveh. Haven’t I told you that before?” 

“Well, you’re not wrong of course, but in this case it most certainly is. You’ll see. Why don’t we just go down to Lambad’s for a drink? You’ve already got a snack to go with it.” 

Kaveh gestures towards the single serving of shawarma clasped in her hand and, as if she’d forgotten she was even holding it, Jeanne contemplatively glances down at the shishkabob skewer. Taking his chance while she’s not looking, he covertly slides the little vial into his pocket and safely out of sight before she can notice it. He hadn’t quite gotten so far as figuring out how he was going to slip a few drops of the mysterious substance into whatever she was drinking but thankfully she wouldn’t have reason to question him about it just yet. That solved at least one of the many problems her sudden appearance had presented. 

Now he only needed to stall her long enough to decide what he was going to tell her regarding his living situation. One issue at a time here. 

“I suppose I could do with a drink.” She says, bringing her attention back up just as he’s withdrawing his now empty hand from his pocket. “But you need to hydrate yourself before anything else if you’re feeling unwell after your travels. Promise me you’ll make sure to drink some water when we get there?” 

“Deal.” He gratefully blurts even as his heart gives a dully subdued flutter inside his chest. Jeanne, feared enforcer of Fontaine and scourge of all wrongdoers, worried about him? Kaveh would’ve been tempted to giggle over it like a schoolgirl had he not been so weak in the knees with relief. As long as he could keep her distracted enough that she didn’t start asking any prying questions, there was a very real chance he could still salvage this. 

Nodding once to indicate that the decision has been made, Jeanne leans down as if to grab the stately, heavy looking luggage at her feet. But even in his frazzled state Kaveh is still quick to jump into action and he lunges forward, snatching it up off the ground before she can. He falters though at the weight, a small grunt leaving him when he encounters more resistance than he’d anticipated. He quickly recovers though and bounces upright again with a victorious grin aimed at her even as his arm threatens to buckle under the weight of his new burden.  

Not looking particularly amused, she levels him with a frown. “You needn’t concern yourself with that, Kaveh. I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own suitcase, seeing as I’ve been doing just that up until now.” 

“I know that but please, I insist. Isn’t this what they call chivalry back in Fontaine? I’m just making sure you feel at home, that’s all.”

She tries to fight it but a brief, rueful smile still manages to grace her mouth. It’s as beautiful as it is fleeting, and Kaveh has to work very hard to keep his free hand from coming up to touch at the spot over his chest where his heartbeat is pounding out a staccato rhythm. He really did have it bad. Not that that comes as a surprise when he’d already known full well but there was something reassuring in having such a tangible confirmation that his feelings for her haven’t changed or lessened one bit since the last time they’d met for a meal and drinks. 

It fills him with a fresh surge of hope for the prospects of this unexpected chance encounter as they start to make their way down the road together. Still, though, he can’t shake the feeling that something seemed a bit unusual about her demeanor this time. Far be it that he was complaining but Jeanne wasn’t typically in the habit of being so laid back or relaxed, and that makes him shoot her a curious look. Her posture was as proud as ever yet seemingly less severe in the set of her shoulders and the sure sway of her hips. Most anyone else probably wouldn’t have caught on that anything at all was different but he certainly had. 

“You must have only just gotten here if you haven’t even dropped off your luggage yet. Talk about good timing. And forgive me for being blunt but you seem to be in a good mood today. What kind of job are you here for this time?” 

Another small smile pulls at her mouth, but this time it doesn’t immediately disappear. “There is no job. I’m on vacation. Lucky me, right?” 

Kaveh’s lips slowly part. She’d been given holiday from her obligations within the Gardiennage and she’d decided to spend that time in Sumeru? With him? He almost doesn’t believe his own ears even as he blurts, “Oh, that’s wonderful! You’re always working so hard, you’ve certainly earned yourself a break by now. But … you could have gone anywhere, right? Why here?” 

Jeanne sends him a lingering glance that he can’t decipher quickly enough before she turns her attention forward again with a quiet sniff. “Why not? I like it in Sumeru, and it’s not a very long trip. I’m familiar enough with the roads and the people that it just seemed like the logical conclusion.” 

“Ah, right. The old stomping grounds, eh?” He laughs, trying to cover up the distant note of disappointment that creeps in. Of course she wouldn’t choose to come here for him, specifically. He was just one of probably many faces that made up the familiar tapestry of the foreign city in her mind. His wishful thinking was going to get him in trouble some day. 

The physical manifestation of that was a heavy burden in his pocket that he couldn’t ignore when each step seemed to emphasize the weight of the vial resting against his thigh. Perhaps accepting Rahid’s offer had been a mistake after all. If there was nothing there in the first place then no amount of loosening up was going to improve his situation with her, would it? 

And that was to say nothing of the fact that he still had no idea what to tell her about his descent into poverty. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lambad’s Tavern isn’t particularly busy in the middle of the day but it’s not quite empty either, so Kaveh makes a point of picking out a secluded booth seat in the far back corner. He’d cited wanting to be away from the oud player and the crowd naturally drawn in by live music when she’d given him an odd look, but in reality he’d needed the relative privacy to get his head on straight. 

Over an hour later and he still hasn’t quite accomplished that, nor has he made a single decision on how to proceed from here. Not whether to tell her the truth or come up with a convenient excuse as to why he couldn’t invite her back to his place for a nightcap as he customarily did. Not whether to slip her some of the pink concoction when she wasn’t looking or toss it in the trash at his earliest opportunity to be rid of the evidence. Kaveh wasn’t normally this hesitant or irresolute but the situation was so littered with proverbial land mines that he feared making the wrong move a little too much to make any move at all. 

And Jeanne, in all the splendor and glow of the relaxed mood brought about by her holiday away from the court of Fontaine, was not making it any easier on him. 

“I did miss having your company, you know. Since I’m not on the clock this time I say we try to make the most of it while we can. I think we should go sightseeing together, actually.” She says, perfectly casual about it while she picks up her stout goblet from the table and takes a sip. He can’t help watching from the corner of his eye how the elegant line of her throat daintily bobs with the swallow but he quickly averts his gaze before she can notice. 

There was very little he wouldn’t give to press his mouth to that pale strip of flesh and nuzzle into her pulse. He felt like he was going mad. Jeanne de la Roche herself wanted to spend that much time with him? Willingly? It almost seemed too good to be true. 

“It occurred to me that I haven’t ventured out from the capital city or the port towns very much,” Jeanne goes on, idly swirling the glass in her hand now. “But Sumeru is a rather large country, isn’t it? I should think I’d like to see more of it.” 

Eager to busy himself with something so he can hide his jittery nerves, Kaveh leans forward to take up the decanter from the table and refills his own cup. He knew he was drinking a little too fast for a situation as precarious as this one but it couldn’t be helped. It would’ve seemed far more strange if he’d hardly touched his wine at all after pleading with her to come here. 

“Why, of course we can.” He tells her as amicably as he can manage. “I already have a few places in mind that I’d love to show you. I’m probably not the best candidate to play tour guide but … if you think you’re up for it, I can probably move some stuff around in my schedule.” 

Never mind the fact he didn’t yet have another job lined up after only just completing the last. His financial troubles had forced him to be a little more cautious about where and how he spent his time. Long gone were the days where he could leisurely mingle at the parties and grand openings hosted by wealthy businessmen or dignitaries who were keen on networking with him lest he run the risk of his secret getting out. Reputation was, unfortunately, a key factor in such stuffy social circles and he’d largely distanced himself from that particular crowd under the guise of being too busy to humor them. It was a vicious cycle and he could feel the pressure steadily closing in around him even now. 

But Jeanne didn’t need to know that. She’d probably understand it, given her own experiences dealing with courtiers and unreasonable noblemen who were accustomed to things being done a certain way, but he didn’t want to unload all of his woes on her. Not yet. 

Or preferably ever, if he was lucky enough to get out of it entirely. 

And she seems pleased enough with his willingness to accommodate her that he’s certain he’s made the right choice. Her smile is private and brief when she flashes it at him, but the teal of her eyes takes on a stunning warmth that very nearly makes his heart give out on the spot.

“Excellent. Of course I won’t take up all of your time though. I know just how busy you usually are but I must admit I’m looking forward to it. Are you certain a day or two of exploring Sumeru’s countryside together won’t hurt your productivity too much?” 

“Certainly not.” He swallows hard. “I’m looking forward to having a break of my own. All the better if it’s with you.” 

Offering up a brief sound of agreement, Jeanne thoughtfully glances down into her cup with that same secretive smile still in place. It strikes him as oddly curious, like there was more at play behind her good mood than just the vacation or the drink, but as always she doesn’t allow him enough time to parse what it might mean. 

Unfolding her legs where they’d been neatly crossed one over the other, she sets her goblet back down on the table and rises to her feet. “Then it’s settled. Excuse me for just a moment. I’m afraid I need to visit the powder room.” 

“Please, take your time.” He murmurs, attentively watching as she steps out from the booth before disappearing further into the tavern. Kaveh feels vaguely like a clingy puppy at the vague sense of loss that comes with watching her go but he quickly snaps himself out of it. 

This was his chance, wasn’t it? 

Surreptitiously, he glances at the glass she’s left behind. It would be all too easy to slip a few drops into her drink and no one would be none the wiser when their table was sequestered in the far back corner, away from where any prying eyes would be able to see it. Except he still hadn’t quite made up his mind yet. Was this a step too far? Would he be breaking some unspoken trust between them if he went through with this? 

The clock was ticking. He’d have to make his decision fast. 

“Dammit,” Cursing under his breath, Kaveh fumbles to get his hand inside his pocket. The glass vial feels warm from his own body heat as he wraps his long fingers around its slight circumference but he hardly even notices it in his flustered state. If he really went through with this … if he actually slipped her something without her knowledge … 

Oh, Jeanne was going to string him up like a solstice turkey if she ever found out. 

“I can’t do it.” He murmurs, hating the sinking feeling of defeat that makes his stomach feel like a solid lead weight yet he knew this was a line he just couldn’t bring himself to cross. No matter how badly he wanted to see her punch drunk and giggly (if such a Jeanne even existed) there was simply no way he’d ever be able to reconcile it with his conscience. In truth, he felt something like a slimy creep for even considering it in the first place. 

So he sits there for the next odd minutes, just sullenly regarding the little vial in his hand until she comes back and slides into the booth next to him again. His slumped shoulders must catch her attention, because she leans close to him to inspect what it is he’s looking at. 

“And what is this? Some sort of alchemical potion?” 

That manages to make him smile. “Hah. I said the same thing, you know. A friend gave this to me. He said a few drops in your drink would increase the efficacy and make it more potent.” 

Or something like that. Kaveh had been drinking a shade too fast since they got here to properly remember what exactly Rahid had told him. Not that that had been much to begin with, in retrospect. 

“Hmm. Interesting.” 

He’s not sure why he does it. Perhaps it’s the wine making his head feel fuzzy and muddled, or perhaps it’s nothing more than a last ditch effort on his part to win her over, but he holds it out to her in offering. “Wanna give it a try? I’m not sure how much effect it’ll actually have on you but …” 

She noises a brief sound of consideration, making up her mind surprisingly quick, and giving an elegant shrug. “I don’t see why not. I can’t even remember the last time I felt truly drunk.” 

“I’ve noticed that.” Numbly passing it over to her, Kaveh watches in disbelief as she uncorks the petite stopper and lifts it up to her nose for a sniff. He can hardly believe the situation would turn out this way after all the indecisive grief he’d endured leading up to this moment. 

Not only had he saved himself from dealing with the long lasting guilt of doing something so nefarious behind her back but she was also willing to drink it on her own accord? It truly seemed too good to be true. 

But, to his continued surprise, she does indeed reach out to position the vial over her waiting cup. A deliberate turn of her wrist sends a few pink droplets falling into the wine, dying it a faintly rust color in the center where it slowly starts to bleed out towards the edges. Jeanne appears to hesitate though, and at first he assumes she’s rethinking this decision – which he couldn’t exactly fault her for if that were the case. But then she tips the glass bottle again, spilling another healthy dose into her goblet, and his brows take a very expeditious trip up to his hairline.

“Uh, don’t you think that might be too much?”

“We’ll find out, won't we?” She shoots back, and he doesn’t realize she’s teasing him rather than issuing a challenge until she sends him a confidential smile. “It’s just as you said, Kaveh. There’s no way to know how much effect this will even have on me so I don’t see what harm it could do. You’ll have to forgive me though if I start acting like a fool. Can I trust you to watch over me if that happens?”

Kaveh starts to open his mouth, wanting to reassure her that everything is fine, of course he would, and to not give it another thought. But before he can even get a single word out she abruptly leans forward to snatch up her glass. In one smooth motion she brings it up to her mouth, tips it bottoms up, and drains what must be a good half of its contents all at once. 

Eyes widening to the approximate size of dinner plates, the blond lurches forward to grab at her elbow. “Woah, woah, hey! Slow down, there’s no rush is there? Don’t — you can’t drink it that fast!” 

She lowers the goblet enough to say, “And why not?” before decisively lifting it again. 

“Because -“ He fumbles for something to say, anything other than the humiliating truth, even as he grips her tight in an attempt to stay her hand. It’s no use though. She’s much too strong, stronger than him by a very noticeable margin, and there’s nothing he can do to stop her from taking another healthy swig. 

Such a realization probably would have hurt another man’s ego, left him feeling emasculated and lesser than. But Kaveh, on the contrary and much to his growing horror, only feels a dizzying rush of sharp edged excitement swell in his gut when her bicep powerfully flexes under his fingers. It’s like she doesn’t even notice he’s holding onto her at all and it is with a great deal of buzzing trepidation that he realizes just how easily she could have overpowered and pinned him down. It wouldn’t have even been much of an accomplishment. Despite the biological advances he naturally possessed as a man, he never could have gone toe to toe with her and hoped to come out on top. 

He quickly yanks his hands away as if she’d scalded him, his breath coming out in a quick rush now. His cheeks feel like they’re positively blazing while he watches in dismay as she finishes off the rest of the wine before reaching for the decanter. This wasn’t so strange for her, in truth. Jeanne seemed to enjoy dropping some of the stuffy aristocratic manners she’d been raised on when she was with him and she could hold her alcohol perfectly well under normal circumstances. But he had no idea what effect that strange liquid was going to have on her, especially not when she’d consumed so much of it all at once. 

And that was to say absolutely nothing of the unmistakable tendrils of arousal curling hot in his lower belly now. 

Practically shaking, Kaveh self consciously huddles into the corner of the booth and tries to get his bearings straight again. He’d known Jeanne was physically fit and strong, of course. It was a big part of the attraction, after all. But he hadn’t fully comprehended the actual differences in their strength, not like this. He’d never had it quite so poignantly displayed right in front of his very eyes before. 

And something told him he’d just made a grievous mistake when he decided to open up Pandora’s Box with that mysterious concoction. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Thirty minutes later and Kaveh knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he has indeed made a monumental mistake. 

Jeanne, to her credit, doesn’t appear to be drunk or even particularly tipsy for that matter — not the way he and many others get, at any rate. She was still a steady, unflappable presence sitting next to him in the booth, neither faltering in an intoxicated daze nor slurring her speech like most did when they were inebriated. By all accounts she seemed to be almost entirely sober. 

Except the way she looks over at him is so hungry and pointed that he feels vaguely like a cornered prey animal staring down a half starved beast. The change had come on gradually at first and then more quickly when whatever he’d slipped her really started to kick in. Now she looked like she was seconds away from pouncing on him right then and there, and he wasn’t so sure he would have had the strength of will to tell her no. 

If this was Rahid’s idea of ‘warming up’ with his wife Kaveh was going to have to have another long talk with him. 

In the here and now, he fumbles for something to say. Anything at all to diffuse the situation and give him a chance to figure out how to fix this newest screw up in his long list of a track record. It seemed that no matter what he did, he really just kept digging his grave deeper and deeper. 

“Are you alright, Jeanne? Y - you look thirsty. Why don’t I grab you some water?” 

He quickly stands, but Jeanne is just as quick to grab his wrist and tug him back down. Her fingers are reminiscent of iron manacles, and he rather helplessly collapses into the seat again. Surreptitiously glancing into her darkened expression, he decides that this would have been a rather terrifying experience had he not been so embarrassingly aroused by it. There was clearly something very wrong with him. 

“No water.” She murmurs, her voice noticeably huskier than usual. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it was the sultry, intimate tone she would use with a lover in their most private of moments, and that doesn’t do much to help him fight down the erection trying to spring up in his pants. He needed to think fast. 

“Alright. Can I … can I get you something else, then? Maybe something to eat? That might — it might absorb some of the … wine in your system.” 

Jeanne gives her head a slow shake, burgundy forelocks swaying gently with the motion. “No. I’m not hungry for food, but thank you.” 

Oh. 

Unsure what else to do, Kaveh lets out a threadbare little laugh. “Ah, I - I see. Then are you in the mood for something else? I can get you whatever you want. On me, of course.” 

It’s not like he had the extra money for that but it doesn’t really seem to matter. She only drops her gaze as if in thought, deeply considering something that only she was privy to in that moment. 

Those cool, sea-green eyes snap back up almost immediately though. 

With a single minded decisiveness that makes his heart lodge itself in his throat again, she nudges closer to him in the booth. Stammering, he quickly brings his open hands up to indicate surrender but she just reaches right past them to grab his chin without so much as pausing. Completely ignoring the surprised squawk he lets out, Jeanne rather demandingly angles his face up at her as she leans in, pressing her body right up against his side until he's practically pinned back into the seat. 

She looks like she’s about to devour him whole, her entire frame practically vibrating with the urge to act on whatever is going through her head, but she manages to stop at the last possible moment. Visibly holding herself in check she takes a deep, faltering breath and lets it out on a slow exhale, trying to regain her composure.  

“I’m not sure what's happening but … I think we need to leave.”

“A - are you alright?” 

“I don’t know. I just suddenly feel so damn hot.” She slowly shakes her head, clearly unable to make any sense of it. It is with a great deal of effort that she forces her fingers to unlatch from his chin and she stiffly returns to her side of the booth, panting softly under her breath. 

Kaveh can’t help the worried guilt that rushes over him as he takes in her new demeanor, the hunched set of her shoulders and the fine sheen of sweat starting to form across her face. If he didn’t know any better he’d think she was suddenly coming down with a cold. This was not at all what he’d expected to happen based on Rahid’s vague description but, well. She had consumed more than just a few drops worth. He just hoped it wasn’t making her sick. 

“It’s okay, Jeanne. Let me pay the tab and then we’ll get out of here,” He tells her, consolingly reaching over to place his hand across her back. “Your place is closer than mine so lets - -”

“No. I’ll pay.”

“But I already said it was my treat - -”

In lieu of a proper response, she merely reaches up lightning quick to snag his wrist and Kaveh can’t quite help the startled yelp he lets out in response. Unperturbed by his reaction, she stands up in a rush and half drags him after her. Another blinding, white hot surge shoots through his body at the demanding way she steers him out of the booth, stopping just long enough to snag her luggage up off the ground before making a beeline up to the front counter. He’s helpless to do anything but follow along right in tow when she’s got an ironclad hold on him like this, and Lambad sends them an odd look from behind the long bar at their approach. 

“Leaving so soon? It’s not even been two hours yet.”

“O - oh, you know,” Kaveh nervously laughs, scrambling for an excuse that wouldn’t sound as incriminating as the current scene looked, but Jeanne is quick to cut across him. 

“We might come back tomorrow. I’m not feeling very well, unfortunately.” That much is clear in the way she shivers just ever so slightly as she sets her suitcase back down so she can dig into her pocket. The fact she refused to let him go, as if she was worried about him making a break for it, is not lost on him but there wasn’t much he could do about it at this point. 

A handful of mora is slapped down on the counter with enough force to make Kaveh wince and then she’s physically dragging him towards the exit. By the time they make it outside and step into the dense heat, Jeanne is full on panting like she couldn’t quite catch her breath, and the two of them stumble to a halt just on the edge of the road. Realizing she was hardly in any condition to navigate the city streets on her own, the blond cautiously steps closer to put his uncaptured hand on her shoulder, hoping to steady her a little bit. 

“Here, let me lead the way. Do you feel like you’re going to be sick? Maybe I should take you to a hospital …”

“No. That's not necessary.” She groans very softly, keeping her head hung forward so that her hair keeps her face mostly hidden from him. “Just want to go home. I think – I think I need to lie down for a while.” 

He was decidedly in agreement with that, so he gently coaxes her into motion until she at last gives in and shuffles after him on heavy feet. Luckily the house she rented year-round for her stays in Sumeru while on business was conveniently closer to the tavern than his old home would have been, so that saved him from having to break that particular news to her just yet. It was one of the very few breaks he seemed to be getting today. 

More importantly though he isn’t quite sure what to do with her in this state. She’d said she didn’t need a hospital but was she sure about that? Did she have the presence of mind to make those kinds of calls right now? In many ways this was the exact opposite of what he’d been hoping for. Instead of a clingy, affectionate Jeanne he’d gotten one who looked like she was either going to collapse or start retching everywhere. For all he was aware, she might even end up doing both and he had no clue how to handle any of it. 

But for once the gods seemed to be on his side because they eventually make it to her single sized home without incident and only a few curious stares from people wondering what was going on with the Fontainian woman. There was no telling what kind of rumors about them might be circulating around the city come morning but that was the least of his concerns. With her help, he manages to get the door unlocked and the two of them stumble inside. 

Immediately dropping her luggage, Jeanne moves to lean heavily against the wall while he gets the door closed. Even with her hair hanging forward he can still make out the furious flush that stains her cheeks and he cautiously approaches her, idly noting that when she was slumped like this they were at almost perfect eye level with one another. 

“Are you positive you don’t want me to fetch a doctor for you, Jeanne? I’m worried about you.” 

“Don’t be,” She insists, lifting a sluggish hand to vaguely wave off his concern. “I’ll be fine. I must have just drank too fast. I wasn’t expecting that brew to hit me so hard.” 

Deciding that was a major understatement, Kaveh reaches up to tug her coat off her shoulders. That probably wasn’t helping her current condition much, and it strikes him as oddly domestic. Like he was a housewife welcoming her hardworking husband home from a long day. 

His belly painfully clenches at the thought and, struggling to fight down the erection that tries to spring to life in his pants, he tosses her jacket on the nearby coat rack and then stiffly takes her by the shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed before you collapse on me.”

Much to his relief, she complies without a fuss and pushes off from the wall. Leaning into him for support, Jeanne allows Kaveh to guide her further into the house and down the hall. He’d only seen her bedroom once or twice before in passing, when he’d helped her with her luggage on previous trips, but this time there’s enough static tension hanging in the air that he can’t quite stamp down the mounting excitement in his lower body. It’s a shameful thing to realize his self control was this bad but he makes a valiant effort to keep it at bay while he gets her directed over to the waiting bed. 

“Here we are. Once you’re settled in I’ll go get you some water to drink.”

She doesn’t immediately sink onto the waiting mattress though. Even at his encouraging nudge, she just stands there breathing heavily, and he anxiously bends his head close to try and get a better look at her. 

“What’s wrong? Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?” 

“No.” 

“Then why don’t you - -“ 

It happens much too fast for him to comprehend any of it. 

One moment he’s standing on his feet, helping Jeanne support her weight, and the next she’s flipped him forward to hit the bed, sprawled out on his back. Kaveh barely has enough time to draw a sharp gasp as he bounces once before she’s on top of him, pinning him down against the sheets. Staring up at her, he’s so surprised in the aftermath of that sudden rush that he doesn’t even have the wherewithal to do anything else but gape at her. 

What in the seven hells was happening now? 

“Kaveh,” 

He gives a slight jolt. “O - oh. Yes – yes, Jeanne?” 

“I’m going to kiss you.” She announces with so little fanfare that he very nearly does a double take. 

“W - wha —“

“Kaveh,” She cuts across him, the strict command in her tone making the blond obediently snap his mouth shut. Apparently satisfied with that, she goes on. “I’ve thought about doing this for a while now. Quite a while, in fact. I’m not sure what was in that vial but I want you far too much right now to deny it any longer. I won’t force myself on you though, so speak up if you don’t want it. This is your chance to reject my advances. If you don’t take it I’m going to kiss you.” 

His eyes grow so impossibly wide it looks like they just might fall right out of his head and go rolling off across the floor, and with it comes a sudden realization. What Rahid had said about that pink concoction. He’d never come right out with it but he also hadn’t stated that it would make her drunk either. That had been his own jump to conclusions on the matter. What he’d told Kaveh was that it would warm her up and that he used it with his wife in their old age. He’d said it would give him plenty of time to prove to Jeanne that he was serious about wanting to pursue her. It wasn’t an elixir for drunkards, it was an intimacy potion! 

Kaveh’s brain stumbles over that thought, hardly even daring to believe it, but the proof was looming over him with a hungry, voracious look of wanting darkening her face. That explained everything. Why she was so short of breath and her skin flushed with perspiration. He’d thought she was feeling ill after ingesting all that wine on top of the mystery fluid but clearly that was not the case. She was so worked up because she was indescribably aroused. 

And he was the sole focus of all her attention? 

The poor architect very nearly faints dead away on the spot. 

Desperately groping for some semblance of a hold on his composure though, he starts to open his mouth. He’d wanted to tell her he would rather talk this out instead of making any rash decisions when she was so obviously under the influence and her judgment was clouded, but his silence must have stretched on for much too long at that point. Because Jeanne abruptly swoops in and he just manages to suck in a surprised gasp before her lips crash into his. He violently jerks as if she’d electrocuted him but, in truth, she doesn’t even seem to notice it. She’s much too busy trying to devour him, claiming his mouth and dominating the kiss before he even has a chance to try and take the upper hand for himself. Like her role of total power and control in their dynamic was already a foregone conclusion. 

Hell, maybe it was. 

In a truly dizzying rush, white hot static surges through his system with all the subtlety of a powerful explosive going off and Kaveh instantly gives over to the intense, bone rattling yearning he harbors for her. Tipping his head, he hungrily kisses her back, softly groaning into her mouth. His lips tremble under the demanding push and pull of hers even as he instinctively brings his arms up to wrap them around her shoulders, clinging to her while his long fingers dig into the soft fabric of her blouse. Noising a brief sound of approval, rewarding him for his eager response, she gives his bottom lip a taunting bite before lowering herself to languorously stretch out on top of him.

There really isn’t much difference in their builds, he suddenly realizes with her body pressed up tight against his like that. They were almost the same height and her shoulders not much wider despite the obvious strength residing in them. In truth, they probably would’ve been just about evenly matched if only Kaveh had taken Al-Haitham’s advice and he’d spent a bit more time exercising his muscles instead of hunching over his drawing table late into the night on various projects. Not that it really mattered now, at this crucial juncture. It was clear he’d be no match for her in his current state even if he’d wanted to fight and wrestle with her for dominance. 

He doesn’t, though. He really, really doesn’t want to pretend to be something or someone he’s not, especially when Jeanne herself never made any qualms about who she was either. This was in many ways exactly what he’d been dreaming of. To have her on top of him, pinning him down and taking whatever she wanted from him, so he happily surrenders, all but melting against her and letting her set the pace however she saw fit. 

And she doesn’t hesitate to do so, either by virtue of her proud, natural inclination for being in control or perhaps it was just in response to his submissive body language. Where once they’d barely touched each other beyond an occasional friendly brush of their hands, Jeanne now shamelessly presses herself flush against him like her claim on the blond man was already a bygone matter of fact. It was as if every single one of his shameful fantasies was coming to life in real time and he almost chokes on the boiling rush of emotion that swells in his chest. 

A pathetically small whimper escapes him and in response the hand that had come up to possessively wrap around his throat relaxes before falling away altogether, sliding up to cup his cheek instead. Her fingers are feminine and dainty yet rough with worn callouses. The grip she usually used for holding her sword is especially powerful, and it has him shuddering against her as blunt nails dig in just enough for him to feel the pinprick, drawing another muffled gasp out of him. But she quickly releases his face in favor of reaching further back to sink her fingers into his hair. Closing her fist at the back of his head, Jeanne gives it an experimental yet no less insistent tug that has his lips warbling open with an accompanying mewl. 

To his groaning surprise, she doesn’t hesitate to take this chance and she plunges her tongue into Kaveh’s mouth to suggestively caress over his in a long, wet swipe and savor the taste of him on her palette. The buzzing daze that encompasses him only grows stronger still and he feels downright delirious even as he dips his head back against the sheets to better accept her conquest of him. 

She's quick to pull away though, leaving him sprawled out and panting underneath her. Issuing a faint groan of disappointment at the loss, he cracks his eyes open to peer up into her face. 

He’s only slightly surprised to find Jeanne’s breath is coming even quicker than before, her cheeks flushed hot in what he now recognized as eager excitement, but somehow she still didn’t look half as worked up as he felt. It probably would have made him laugh, if only he’d had the extra oxygen to do so. Even when that blasted potion was wreaking havoc on her self control she still managed to keep some hold on her composure. It was in many ways astounding. 

“You … you didn’t have to stop.” 

A quietly strained laugh rises in her throat, soft and husky, to accompany the slow lift at the corner of her mouth. 

“Oh, is that so? What an unexpected surprise this is turning out to be.” She murmurs, uncharacteristically doting in the way she speaks to him now. Looking confident and svelte in her eager glow, she pushes up to get a better look at him. “I must admit, there was a very real part of me that hoped things would turn out this way eventually. I didn’t want to approach you with unwarranted expectations though. We’ve already danced around each other for far too long for me to start making assumptions now, wouldn’t you agree? But I suppose I had nothing to be worried about this entire time. You’re a good boy, aren’t you Kaveh?” 

His throat cinches shut, making him cough around the startled sound that materializes from his mouth unbidden. She doesn’t seem to pay it much mind though, shifting her weight more to the side so she can glance down the length of his body with a pointed look. Obediently, and not knowing what else to do, Kaveh hesitantly tears his eyes from her face and follows suit. 

The straining tent in the front of his pants comes as more of a shock to him than it does her. She’d probably felt it as soon as she’d flattened herself to the front of him but that doesn’t stop Kaveh from sucking in a sharp, deeply embarrassed gasp. His cheeks feel like they’re on fire as he shyly draws his knees together in an attempt to conceal his arousal from her but it’s no use. He’s much too hard, and the tent remains. The sharp sting of humiliation almost brings tears to his eyes, and he whimpers softly in his distress. Not only was this unbelievably shameful but he also feared the possibility that she might dismiss him from her presence because of it. This wasn’t exactly the kind of overly enthusiastic reaction most women would want out of their potential partners, was it? 

But Jeanne, evidently, is not most women. She practically purrs, in fact, when she brings her hand down to gently trace the center line of his chest, down over his nervously flexing stomach and even further than that to finally reach the jutted bulge between his legs. Possessively, she curls her fingers around it and palms him with a subdued, taunting squeeze. He almost sobs right then and there, whining softly at the first glorious touch of her hand on him. 

He’d been anticipating this for so long, dreaming and fantasizing about what this exact moment might look like, and he was ashamed to realize how dangerously close he already was to busting in his pants. This was the effect Jeanne had on him. This is what she turned him into. 

“My, you’re certainly excited aren’t you? And to think, I hesitated so much for fear that you might not reciprocate my interest …”

“P - please,” 

“Hush, Kaveh. Now that I’ve finally got you in my bed I won’t be letting you go anytime soon. You’re going to be good and do exactly as I say, aren’t you?” 

He quickly nods, swallowing so hard it almost makes him gag. “Yes. Yes, ma’am. I will. Anything.” 

Jeanne draws a slow, carefully controlled breath in response even as a distant shudder of anticipation wracks through her. “Ooh, look at you. Already so eager to please me. Is it possible you’ve also thought about this before?”

At his needy little whimper she offers another soft, velvety laugh that rushes straight to his cock, making it twitch in her hold. He’s so hard it almost hurts but he can’t quite bring himself to complain about that right now. Not when she was holding him like that and he could still taste the glorious flavor of her mouth on his tongue. So out of his mind with sharp tinged arousal, all he can do is offer up a faltering moan to accompany the dazed nod of his head. 

“I see. Then we are both fools, aren’t we? But are you certain you want to do this, Kaveh? I’m not the type of passive woman who will just indulge you long enough to get you off. If I’m to have you then I’ll have all of you.”  

He quietly seethes at the suggestion of what she was saying. It made it sound like he was some kind of honorable maiden about to be bedded by a chivalrous knight of the court, and the way his cock jumps in her hand makes it quite clear just how much he liked that idea. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and yet so deeply attractive that he wasn’t so sure he would’ve been able to reject anything at all she asked of him from here on out. She could have told him to go jump off the highest point of the Akademiya’s tallest spire and he wouldn’t have given it another thought. 

“I … gods, I think I’d be mad if you didn’t at this point. Please, Jeanne. I’m yours, however you want me.” 

Humming a brief sound of approval, she gives his straining erection one last, lingering squeeze before dragging her hand up to fiddle with the brooch that holds his mantle in place over his shoulders. While she works on that, she leans close again and brushes a teasing, featherlight kiss over his lips. Struggling to keep his breath evened out, Kaveh needily kisses her back but no amount of desperation on his part manages to prepare him for when she abruptly sits upright and throws one leg over his middle without any further buildup to that pivotal moment. 

Settling on top of him, she shoots him a sly little smile even as she reaches down to take his slack wrists in her hands. Folding them up above his head, she pins them down to the bed with her weight before hunching close again so she can claim his mouth the way he’d been hoping she would. Jeanne’s hunger is obvious in the way she kisses him as if she were trying to consume his very life force, and in the way she not so subtly grinds her pelvis against him. Even through the many layers of clothes still separating them he can feel the intense heat radiating out from between her legs, and he issues a soft whine when his balls draw up in warning. 

This wasn’t good. If he shot off in his pants before she even properly touched him skin to skin, he was never going to forgive himself. She may not have been very put off by his other shortcomings but he had a feeling this was one she wouldn’t be quite as willing to overlook. 

So with a great deal of effort he tears his mouth from hers, sucking in a ragged breath. “Nghn, J - Jeanne … I might - -“

She unexpectedly shoves her face into the line of his neck, nipping at his pulse, and he physically shakes straight down to his toes. This was exactly what he’d thought about doing to her back at the tavern and the irony of that isn’t lost on him. Having the roles reversed so completely, being on the receiving end of such amorous attention … 

“Ooh, I think — I might need a moment, please.” 

“Aww, what’s the matter, Kaveh? Do you already feel like you’re going to cum for me?” She purrs against his skin, laughing softly when he trembles so violently in response the bed distantly rattles. “Don’t worry. I know exactly how to get you ready for another round if I need to, so there’s nothing to fret about. You’re in good hands, I promise.” 

“W - what does that mean?” He squeaks, unable to keep the nervous trepidation out of his voice. 

Ignoring the question, Jeanne sits up on his stomach and lifts her hands to make quick work of her red tie, her finely made courtiers jacket and then her blouse which she practically rips off in her rush to get undressed. Kaveh, feeling unexpectedly scandalized by the unprecedented strips of creamy flesh being revealed to him, almost brings his hands up to shyly cover his face. He can’t quite rip his eyes away though and he outright stares at the full cups of her satiny brassiere in something not unlike disbelief. He’d never been so blessed with a more tantalizing, beautiful sight in all his life. 

“Now it’s your turn.” She murmurs, hungrily licking her lips as she sets her sights on the sash at the front of his waist. Giving it a good tug is all it takes to have it loosened and then she’s flipping the bottom of his flouncy shirt out of the way so she can get at his pants. 

Kaveh starts to protest, wanting to ask her to at least slow down, but a quick look at Jeanne’s expression makes him think better of it. She was going to chew him up and spit him out one way or another, there probably wasn’t any point in stalling the inevitable. 

Clenching his hands into tight fists, he simply watches as she gets his slacks unfastened and then roughly yanks them down. A soft whimper rises in his throat but she pays it little mind, much too focused on getting them yanked off right along with his shoes. She doesn’t hesitate to come back for his underwear and his cock is soon springing up to arc through the air with a rigid bounce, making him hiss at the sensation as much as at being suddenly exposed. Feeling rather self conscious of his sudden nudity, he snaps his attention up to fretfully gauge her reaction. 

The pleased smile that slowly pulls at her mouth catches him off guard, and he nervously fidgets under the watchful spotlight of her attention. 

“Well, Kaveh, I must say you’ve got a rather pretty cock, don’t you? I expected as much given how lovely you are in the face, but …” 

Eagerly, Jeanne reaches out to wrap her fingers around him and he jolts at the abrupt contact, teeth clenching in an attempt to stave off his impending release. She hadn’t seemed worried about it but he really had no idea what she’d meant by knowing how to get him ready for another round. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to find out. 

“Mm, and you’re sensitive too. How delightful. I wonder what would happen if I just …” 

With a tauntingly slow motion of her hand, she tugs up on his cock and drags her hand from about mid shaft up to the head. Kaveh gives a full bodied, lurching jerk in response, letting out a gutted moan when her fist makes the foreskin bunch over his tender glans. He clenches his toes so hard it actually hurts, desperately trying to will his orgasm away, but if she felt any sympathy for him she certainly doesn’t show it. She simply pulls her fist down, retracing the path she’d already taken once, and he outright chokes when it draws the skin back from the glans entirely with a sticky wet click. 

“Oh my,” She breathes out, sounding a little surprised and a lot excited. “That’s quite a lot of precum, isn’t it? You must have really wanted this bad.” 

“I - I’m sorry,” He whimpers, his flat stomach dramatically flexing under the tension. “I can’t — I don’t think I can hold it …” 

“Is that so? And if I tell you I’ll give you a reward?” He shoots her a harried look of confusion and Jeanne smiles rather magnanimously in return. “If you can avoid cumming for the next five minutes, I’ll treat you to something really nice. How does that sound, hm?”

Archons above, she was trying to kill him! 

At his helplessly weak nod, she offers a quiet sound of approval and an encouraging squeeze to his shaft. His hips fruitlessly buck under the sensation but he quickly stills them again when she starts to drag her hand back up at a painfully sedate pace, caressing him in torturous slow motion. Full on wheezing, Kaveh screws his eyes shut and forces himself to stay still even when his muscles start to vibrate with the intense urge to give in. To follow after her grip and thrust into her fingers, to let loose and spasm for all he was worth. Even putting aside the reward she’d mentioned, he just didn’t want to disappoint her. 

So he simply lies there and takes it while she jerks him off at such a staggered, halting pace he really feels like he just might go mad. It was hard just to breathe around it let alone think, and as a result the only thing he can do is focus his cotton stuffed head on not cumming. He repeats it again and again, like a lifesaving mantra, but he’s so close that it feels like a lost cause. His balls are heavy and they ache fiercely where they’re drawn up tight against his scrotum, so close to shooting off but forced to hold back. This was hell. Glorious, mind numbing hell and it existed squarely within the confines of this bed. 

“Such a good boy you are,” She coos another moment later, making him heave and desperately arch up off the bed at the inviting sound of her voice. His narrow, shaking hips are the only part of him that stays rooted to the mattress while the rest of him desperately twists with back bending need, grunting at the effort of trying to stave off his release. “You’re doing so well for me. I can tell how close you are. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could just let go and - -“ 

Cutting her off with a strangled, partially horrified moan, Kaveh can’t stop himself from thrusting up into her grip any longer and he does so with such force it makes something in his lower spine pop. That’s all it takes, just that one hurried rush of movement, and his cock pitifully erupts in a sudden stream of milky white discharge. He cums with a hardly dignified sound, gutted and elated in equal measure. Spurt after spurt, it just keeps coming to paint her knuckles white and stain the bottom of his loose fitted shirt, until finally it runs dry with one last aching twitch that leaves him desperately wheezing. 

“Oh, god!” Bonelessly, Kaveh collapses back into the bed, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. It takes him a prolonged moment to get his bearings straight, or at least enough to comprehend that he was still alive and Jeanne was very much not a figment of his imagination, and he slowly lifts his head to glance down at her. 

Smiling slyly, she rather daintily releases his cock and holds her hand up to show off the incriminating evidence coating her hand. “I’m afraid you only lasted about two minutes and thirty seconds but …” 

“Please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” He says in a rush, but she continues on as if he hadn’t even spoken. 

“I’ll admit that was still longer than I thought you’d manage to pull off. With the way you were acting, I’d half expected you to lose it in under a minute.”

Practically withering in shame, Kaveh shyly draws his knees together but Jeanne is quick to palm his legs apart again. A soft whimper escapes him at the sticky smear she leaves along his thigh, like a reminder of his failure. This was not quite how he’d envisioned this unfolding. 

“Don’t fret, now. I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Besides,”

Peeking up at the pointed tone in her voice, the blond warily follows her line of sight down to his groin and a soft mewl escapes him at the sight of his cock, still half hard and stirring with interest. He’d cum so hard he almost felt numb from the waist down now but there was no getting around what he was looking at. It wasn’t going to take much to have him at full strength again. That much was obvious. 

“I can go again,” He quickly stammers before she can jump into action and take care of it for him. “I’m sure I’ll last longer this time too. But you should — you should really let me take care of you first. I promise I’m good with my mouth.”

“I’m sure you are.” She agrees, smiling at him like she knew he was stalling for time and she thought it was cute. “But I don’t think that will be necessary. You’re going to take care of me another way, Kaveh.” 

Pulling back from him completely, Jeanne takes a moment to withdraw a handkerchief from the pocket of her trousers with her unsoiled hand and she uses it to wipe the cum off the other. Carelessly tossing it aside, she then sets her hands to work on her pants and he tenderly winces when his spent cock bobs with growing excitement at the implication of what was to come. She genuinely was trying to kill him, he decides. And she was doing a spectacular job of it so far. 

“Be a good boy and take off the rest of your clothes for me, hm?” 

It takes everything Kaveh has not to outright sob as he obediently sits up and starts tugging off his shirt. Soon the both of them are completely naked, save the sleek black bra Jeanne leaves on for the time being, and he self consciously brings his arms up to wrap them around his chest when she returns to him on the bed. He feels more than a little foolish for it, like some awkward maiden that wasn’t used to being seen in such a vulnerable state — and, really, that actually wasn’t far from the truth — but she doesn’t seem to be half as disappointed by that as he may have once feared she would be. 

If anything, Jeanne actually looks quite pleased with the blond in her bed, and she reaches out to gently take his shoulders once she’s kneeling next to him. “Lay down?” 

He complies, eager pinpricks erupting along his skin where her hands touch him. Of course he’d known he was pathetically, regrettably weak for her long before this, but looking up at her now he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she really was the one for him. Who else could even compare? No one was as strong as Jeanne, nor as pretty. No other woman came from a background of aristocratic opulence while behaving like she did. She was — everything, wasn’t she? 

“Good. Now, be good for me and let me have my fun, okay?” 

Swallowing his nerves down, Kaveh offers a single nod and Jeanne coos at him very softly in response, assuring him that he was making the right choice for once in his life. Bracing her hands against his narrow chest, she confidently throws her leg over his middle again but this time she keeps her pelvis angled up rather than immediately settling on top of him. He feels downright hysterical when she reaches for his cock and possessively wraps her fingers around it. Despite the fact he was still recovering from his first orgasm, it immediately flexes in her hold to stand at attention. Obedient and loyal, just like his heart was, apparently. 

He seethes softly under his breath at the ache in his overwrought loins but doesn’t try to fight it as she angles him towards her cunt and the glorious thatch of red hair there, a shade darker than that on her head. A vague sense of panic does make his chest expand with a sharp gasp though, and he fumbles his hands down to grab hold of her hips. So soft and womanly under his fingers, yet indescribably powerful when they flex with the motion of lowering herself onto him. 

Truthfully Kaveh hadn’t thought it was possible to get any more worked up then he already was, yet the first silky soft brush of her wet lips against his glans has him feeling dangerously close to passing out. Contrary to his earlier statement, he was not going to last any longer than he had the first time. 

“W - wait —“ 

“Are you nervous, Kaveh?” She laughs, the sound so inviting and teasing it very nearly has him going cross eyed with the intense surge of fresh arousal that sparks in him. “Don’t overthink it. Just lie back, relax and let me have my fun, hm? You want to please me, don’t you?” 

“Ahh … y - yes, ma’am. I do.” 

Breathing out a clipped, anticipatory sigh, Jeanne sedately drags him back and forth through the wet folds and creases of her cunt, ensuring that he was nice and sticky too. Not that he thought he needed it when she already felt like she was soaked so penetration was sure to be a nonissue, but it certainly felt good. Heavenly, actually. 

Fingers sinking into the soft give of her hips, he silently pleads with any god willing to listen for his stamina not to give out at the worst possible time. 

Another anticipatory moment later, she finally angles him back towards her entrance and starts to sink the rest of the way down. The blinding rush of heat that all at once envelops him damn near sends him careening over the edge right then and there, but he valiantly holds it back with a sobbing little hiss. Clutches at her like his life depended on it, and it very well might, while Jeanne gradually takes him deeper and deeper into her body one inch at a time. Just as he’d suspected, she was already perfectly lubricated and he gives a powerless curse under his breath, stealing a harried glance between them to watch her swallow him down to the base. Her thick curls are a poignant contrast to his coarser, ashen brown ones, but they look right at home mingling together like that. 

“Bless the seven - -!”

“Mmnn, you feel so good, Kaveh. You’re just where I want you to be.” Giving a taunting wriggle of her hips to make him sensitively wince, Jeanne reaches for one of his hands. Slides it around to the front of her abdomen and presses down on a certain spot along her lower stomach. “Right there. Can you feel it? That’s how deep you are.” 

The wordless noise he lets out is rife with distress, and he sucks in a horribly frazzled breath in an attempt to steady his nerves a little bit. She just laughs though, another soft, liltingly husky sound that makes him want to cry out. 

And he does, mewling a huffy noise into the statically charged air when she leans forward to square her balance in the center, on her toes and with her hands palming his chest. She starts to move then, keeping her motions short and experimental at first while she gets a better feel for him and how he hits her most pleasure inducing spots. It doesn’t take long for her to pick up the pace though and she begins to bounce in earnest, taking him in long, drawn out plunges now. 

Flicking her long braid over her shoulder mid bounce, Jeanne pins him with a salacious grin. “Yeah, right there. You’ve got it. Ahhn, you’re such a good boy for me. You’d better not, nghn, bust as quickly as the first time. Not before I get mine.” 

“J - Jeanne —“ 

He sounds incredibly whiny even to his own ears but he can’t help it. Not when he could feel his cock throbbing inside her, still tender from getting hard again much too soon after already cumming once, and she didn’t seem to care. She was clearly much more concerned with her own pleasure now, enthusiastically chasing that gratification on top of him, but that just seems to ratchet his own excitement up even further. The more she took from him the more he wanted to give, the higher his arousal seemed to climb. 

It is with no shortage of horror that Kaveh realizes he’s going to cum again, not because she was riding him so expertly, but because she was using him for her own pleasure and that was getting him off more than anything. Even in all his fantasies and wistful daydreams, he’d never imagined that having her treat his cock like her own personal toy would turn him on quite this much. 

“Oh! Shit! I - if you don’t slow down, Jeanne, I’m - -“ 

Her hips start to come down faster, harder in response, and the sharp slap of skin meeting skin rises louder in the air. He practically chokes on it, squirming underneath her as every muscle in his body rapidly tenses up in preparation to blow another load and simultaneously to try and stave it off. It wasn’t just overwhelming, it was downright mind numbing, and he pathetically whimpers even as his eyes start to roll back in his head. 

Too much. It was too much. 

“Please — please —“ He’s babbling, his mouth running on autopilot now, but still she doesn’t seem to care. 

His cock was hers to use however she saw fit and it was clear she wanted it thrusting deep into her guts right now. It feels like every ounce of blood in his body rushes down to his groin all at once, making it swell to uncomfortable proportions as his balls tightly draw up again. He tries to hold back, really, but it’s all too much for him to bear. The wet warmth of her body gripping him like a vice, the breathy sounds that slip from her mouth and the all encompassing smell of her cloying on the back of his tongue. He was powerless before it. 

And he cums again, just like that. His strangled, frantic moan is high pitched and bordering on frantic as he shoots off inside her but even then she just keeps going. Even when his cock finishes spraying her inner sleeve with white, creamy clumps, she just keeps riding him. The only response he gets that indicates she’s even aware of it happening is a low, huffy groan in the back of her throat but it doesn’t so much as make her pause. 

His hands practically cramp up from how hard he’s clutching at her, roughly sucking in a series of wet, faltering breaths. His body can’t take it when every conceivable inch of him was painfully throbbing in protest at the continuous stimulation. The sensation is sharp and stabbing, and he finally throws his head back against the sheets to helplessly wail up at the ceiling. 

“Oh, Kaveh,” She finally murmurs another moment later. “Are you crying?”

His eyes snap open so suddenly it takes them a heartbeat or two to catch up and make any sense of the visual input. Just in time to watch Jeanne lean over him, getting close to his face and alternating her previous bouncing motion to a slower, more savory grind that makes him wince in his oversensitized state. She doesn’t seem to pay it any mind though, her teal eyes taking in his face with obvious delight. 

“You poor thing,” Breathing out softly, she slides one hand up from his chest, over his neck and higher still to cup his cheek. “You really are tender, aren’t you? I wasn’t expecting to make you cry until at least the third round.” 

Kaveh’s taxed heart nearly gives out right then and there. “T - third round? You … you can’t be serious - -“

“I’m very serious, I’m afraid. I’m not sure what else you expected when you gave me an aphrodisiac though. Don’t tell me you’ve bitten off more than you can chew?” 

“Aph - wait, you knew?” 

“Well, I didn’t at the time but I’ve certainly figured it out by now. In all honesty, I picked up very early on that you were acting rather strange today but I hadn’t expected you to go to such lengths just to get me into bed. All you’d had to do was ask, you know.” 

He just gapes up at her, big, wet glistening tears beading along his lash line to make them clump together. What she was saying wasn’t just inconceivable, it didn’t make any sense! If she’d suspected something amiss, if she’d had any doubts about his intentions then …

His eyes suddenly go big and round. “You — that’s what you meant earlier … about unwarranted expectations?”

She smiles at him, a vaguely mischievous, sly little smile, and exhales a savory sigh. “Yeah, but I’d say that’s a moot point now, wouldn’t you agree? I’ve already made you cry so …” Closing the distance, Jeanne’s tongue flicks out to lap up a salty tear from his cheek and he startles like she’d shocked him. That only makes her laugh though, and she pulls back to sit upright again so she can reach behind her to unclasp the hooks on her bra. “Let’s continue, shall we? I’ve got something special in mind for that overly eager cock of yours.” 

Satiny cups fall away, revealing her bare breasts to him at long last, and Kaveh sucks in such a harsh, flustered gasp it almost sounds like he’s choking. Pleased with his reaction, she tosses the garment aside and then much to his slack jawed surprise, she moves to dismount from him. His spent cock slips free humiliatingly fast and wetly flops down to rest across his lower belly, completely soft now. 

Self consciously, Kaveh reaches down to gingerly cover himself from her scrutiny but she merely turns to climb down off the bed as if it were none of her concern. Maybe it wasn’t, and he practically withers at the thought. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me.” She says, not bothering to look back at him while she tugs open a drawer on the nightstand. 

“Please, Jeanne, I don’t think I can handle another round so soon.” He groans, even as he slowly pushes himself up to sit. It wasn’t just his cock that felt sore and achy, his entire body hurt at this point. “If you just give me, I don’t know, an hour, I’m sure we’ll have much better results.” 

“You really expect me to wait that long?” 

“W - well, no, but - -“

“Hands and knees, Kaveh. Now.” 

Whimpering softly, he does as he’s been told and turns over to assume the position. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, she had in store for him but there were certainly a few sinking suspicions running through his mind, and he wasn’t sure if he was prepared for any of them. Mentally or physically, it seemed he really had bitten off more than he could conceivably chew. 

She soon returns to him, evidently having found what she was looking for and crawling up onto the bed to kneel just behind him. He can’t quite bring himself to look back at her, a little too embarrassed by everything that has already happened here today as much as the unseemly pose he was currently in to face her head on. He was also more than a bit nervous too, and he decidedly did not want her to see that reflecting back at her in his expression. Sure, Kaveh may have been fruitlessly grasping at straws here, but he was dead set on preserving whatever minuscule amount of his pride he still had left. 

Which was decidedly not much at all. 

“Relax for me. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“I know that …” 

But did he really, though? He trusted her, yes, but there was a very real part of him that didn’t know what to expect in the coming moments and that made him understandably a bit jittery. 

That fact is very poignantly highlighted when she touches him, placing her hand along his lower back, and he jolts so hard he nearly comes right up off the bed. Chuckling softly at the reaction, Jeanne rubs comforting, coaxing circles into his skin as if she were encouraging an overly skittish pup to settle down. 

“So jumpy. Have I actually done anything to make you this nervous yet?” 

He grumbles a low, noncommittal sound, not entirely sure he trusted himself to speak when he was as naked as the day he was born and spread out on her bed on full display. His reticence quickly proves to be a moot point though, because when she drags her hand down to the cleft where his ass starts, he outright yelps in surprise. 

“Wait - -“ 

“Unfortunately I don’t have the time or the patience for that right now. You said you were going to be a good boy for me, didn’t you?” 

“ I — I did, but …” 

“Then do as I say and relax. I promise you aren’t going to hate this half as much as you think you will.” 

Groaning softly, Kaveh hangs his head in a clear sign of defeat and Jeanne takes that chance to readjust her position behind him, settling directly between his knees now. Both of her hands come up to cup his cheeks, giving them each a savory, appreciative squeeze, and he mewls very quietly when she spreads them apart. His face positively blazes with the knowledge that she was looking at his most private areas uninterrupted and he restlessly fidgets as a result. 

He feels her lean close then and he braces himself — for what, he isn’t sure, but it’s certainly not the wet swipe of her tongue across the tight pucker of his asshole. The sensation is unmistakable and jarring, and he instinctively tries to shy away from it with a frazzled yelp. 

“Jeanne!” He shrills, further embarrassing himself with the high pitch of his voice. 

“Goodness, you really are like an innocent virgin, aren’t you?” 

He doesn’t exactly have a comeback for that, not when he was certainly acting like one, so he just settles on a vague sound of disagreement. 

Chuckling, she leans into him again and, now that he actually knows what’s coming, he clenches his teeth to stay any of the humiliating sounds that rise in his chest at the next swipe of her tongue. It’s a bit less shocking this time but no less confusing when he can’t make any sense of why she would be doing this. Surely she wasn’t … she didn’t plan to - -

“Don’t tense up so much,” She murmurs against him, warm breath fanning over his skin and tickling the sticky wrinkle of his hole. He feels a slight twitch in his groin in response to the featherlight sensation but it’s not near enough to have him springing back up to full attention again. 

So he simply takes it with as much grace as he possibly can, passively letting her lap at him without protest until he can eventually feel the tight rim start to puff up under her ministrations. The muscle was slackening and giving way, allowing her more freedom to poke and prod at the center to tease the suggestion of penetration. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that or any of this, but he doesn’t protest even when she seals her mouth around him and gently starts to suckle. Now he felt overwhelmed in a completely different way than before, and he wheezes quietly under his breath. This was unfamiliar territory for him, completely uncharted, but it is his implicit trust in Jeanne that keeps him from bolting like a frightened rabbit. 

And just like the easily frightened hare, he all but quails when she finally pulls back some moments later to fiddle with something behind him. He didn’t want to look, couldn’t bring himself to look, but he quickly figures out what she’s up to when her fingers come up to touch him and they’re unnaturally sticky with grease, genuine surprise making his heart stutter a beat. 

Dear god, she was really going to do this! 

“Ah, J - Jeanne, are you sure that’s - -“ 

She carefully pushes, dipping one digit just inside the tight ring of muscle without stopping long enough to hear him out, and he instantly blurts out a wordless sound of startled shock. Unable to stop himself anymore, he snaps his head around to peer over his shoulder at her but she just offers up a vaguely conspiratorial smile. 

“You’re tensing up again.” 

“Well, can you really blame me!” 

“No, not really. But trust me, you’ll find you’re much more keen here in just a moment.” 

He doesn’t believe that. He doesn’t believe that at all, not when his hole was weakly pulsing around the intrusion in a way that made him feel panicky and trapped, and that was to say absolutely nothing of the sharply felt pangs of embarrassment he could feel creeping up his neck. 

But then she pushes in a little deeper, slipping in down to the second joint, and his entire body seizes in response, igniting a red hot, tingling sensation low in his gut. His mouth drops open in surprise but nothing comes out, his chest rapidly contracting with the quick gasps he pulls in. It still didn’t exactly feel good, or at least he’s pretty sure it doesn’t, but he felt … something from it. Something that takes his breath away and threatens to suffocate him. He’d never been penetrated like this before but to have Jeanne doing it, carefully fingering his body open, it occurred to him much too late that she was probably right. He probably was going to like this if she was the one doing it. 

“Oh, oh, oh,” He wheezes, fighting the instinctive urge to pull away when she just keeps going, dipping her finger further in until he feels the obvious press of her knuckle flush against his hole. Swaying unsteadily on his hands and knees, he frantically gropes for his frazzled thoughts for something to say. “That’s — hold on, please, just … take it slow, okay?” 

“Didn’t I already tell you I don’t have time for that, Kaveh? You’re going to take what I give you however I see fit to give it. Do you understand?” 

Not waiting for him to respond (as if he even could respond to that), Jeanne angles her finger down and gently massages along his inner wall. The sensation is strange and he still can’t quite decide if it was pleasurable or not, so he just squirms in place while she feels along his guts. At least it didn’t hurt. That seems to be his one and only consolation in this confusing situation he’s gotten himself in, and for that he was thankful. 

“Ah,” She suddenly blurts. “Found it.” 

He almost finds himself asking what it is she’s found in his ass of all places but he doesn’t quite make it any farther than opening his mouth. She abruptly angles that insidious digit downward, digging into his interior wall, and a shock of static electricity immediately shoots through his entire system with enough force to damn near bowl him right over. He comes very close to full on wailing in response even as his hips subconsciously buck under the pressure and his cock gives a distant, muted twitch. 

Icy fear promptly races down his spine. No. No, it couldn’t be — 

She repeats the motion, massaging down into that unimaginably sensitive bundle of nerves with a forceful curl of her finger, and his knees almost give out in response. He understood now what it was she wanted but he was helpless to stop it at this point, outright sobbing while she expertly turned his own body against him. No matter how much he tries to fight it or will it away, his cock was slowly coming back to life with each twist of her hand even when it hurt to do so. He was still much too sore after two consecutive orgasms but even through the discomfort he still gradually starts to harden again. 

Left with no other choice, Kaveh finally allows his upper body to sink down onto the bed where he folds his arms and buries his face in their protective cradle. He’d never be able to look Jeanne in the face after this. It had already started off bad enough when he’d shot his load in under four minutes but it had only continued to get worse from there, and now she was fingering his asshole to coax yet another erection out of him. 

Somehow it doesn’t even come as a surprise when the tears start up again. 

“There you go. Just look at you.” She murmurs approvingly some odd minutes later when his cock has finally finished filling out and it was now a heavy, hanging weight between his legs. “If I didn’t know any better, I wouldn’t even think you’ve gone one round yet.” 

“Nnghnoogh, please, Jeanne. This is hardly, aghhn, the time for jokes.” 

“You’re right. Well, let’s get you fitted then.”

Kaveh blinks through the tears, wondering what she was talking about now, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask. She starts to slowly pull her finger out without any further warning and he whines at the resulting drag against his guts when the muscle tries to cling to her on the way out. It’s like she doesn’t even notice though, or perhaps she doesn’t care, and she slips free with a tiny little slurp from his clenching entrance. Physically cringing at the sound, he shoves his face further into the comfort of his arms and tries very hard not to sob. 

He can hear her fiddling with something behind him but he’s a little too far gone to wonder about what the next trial might be. He’d find out sooner or later anyway, and in this case it turns out to be quite soon. 

Carefully, her hands slip something over his rigid cock and draws it up to the base. It feels vaguely like leather, and that thought is quickly solidified in his mind when she tightens it until the material cinches around him in a tight squeeze that is resoundingly uncomfortable on his already nerve sensitive skin. Sucking in a sharp breath, Kaveh shoves himself up on his elbows so he can peer down at himself. Sure enough, the black thong secured around his scrotum is obvious and speaks for itself. The message was clear. If he couldn’t control himself enough to hold back his orgasms until she was satisfied then she’d help him out. Give him a nudge in the right direction. 

He absolutely hated how familiar that sentiment sounded. 

“You can’t — you can’t do that, Jeanne! It’s too tight and … that’s not fair, is it? I could have used my mouth.” 

“Ooh, are you whining, Kaveh? Such a sad little thing you are. Unfortunately it’s not your mouth I want right now though.” Rising up, she leans over him so she can press herself flush along his back. Her hand comes around to curl under his chin and manually turn his face up at her, and he offers her a tiny little sniffle to go with the puppy eyed face he makes. “What I want is that pretty cock you’ve got between your legs and you’re going to give it to me, aren’t you? Hm?” 

“Nnghn … yes, ma’am.” 

“Good. Now switch me spots.” 

She peels away from him so she can move up a little higher on the bed while he gingerly gets himself situated on his knees. Even just a brief glance down at the state of his poor cock, swollen and darkened by the tight band cutting off the circulation to keep him hard and ready, is enough to make him feel light headed with overwhelm. He’d wanted this though, had practically begged any god willing to listen for even just one real chance with Jeanne, and he knew better than to fight it. He’d dug this hole for himself so, with an accompanying sniffly, he compliantly moves to position himself between the bend of her knees when she gets settled on her back. And looking down at her spread out like that, he dully realizes that he’s never been happier in all his life. 

It wasn’t just that she was pushing his body right to its limits while simultaneously keeping the important bits of him grounded in reality, although that was certainly gratifying in its own right too. It also wasn’t a simple matter of fulfilling and acting on his long held attraction for her, making his fantasies a reality. Rather, there was something about this power dynamic between them that just made him feel whole and complete, like he’d been born just to play this role for her. He’d experienced felt anything quite like it before, and it is with an immense amount of nervous anticipation that he lines himself up with her entrance. 

“I’m going to do it.” He announces, thinking it was for her benefit, but she immediately shoots that idea down when she tsk’s very softly in response. 

“What did I tell you about relaxing, Kaveh? Don’t worry. I’m confident you’re going to do an excellent job.” 

As if to prove that, she reaches between them and wraps her fingers around his straining length, giving it a tight squeeze. He shudders, feeling every little thing in high definition when the nerves were so sensitized and swollen with excess blood. It’s hard just to breathe through it but she helps him with this as well by gently guiding him back into place and encouraging him with a slow tug. 

Clutching her soft thighs in a death grip, Kaveh follows the suggestion with his hips and pushes forward, spearing into hot creases and folds in torturous slow motion. He can’t quite bring his body to move any faster than that and he lets out a frazzled, high pitched keening sound when he starts to sink inside her body again. It felt even more intense than it did the first time, and he surely had the black thong cinched tight around his scrotum to thank for that. Almost like having a transcendental experience, it makes his soul feel like it’s flickering out at the edges.  

He keeps going though, a little too far gone within the heightened daze of his arousal to think of anything else other than burying himself as deep into Jeanne as he could reasonably go, and he doesn’t stop until his pelvis is flush with hers. Letting out a wounded, faltering grunt, he sways unsteadily over top of her. Tries to ground himself to no avail. He wasn’t going to come out of this on the other side the same person he’d once been. Of that he’d never been more certain.  

“Kaveh,” She says his name so soft, so dotingly, as her hands come up to cup his face and angle it down at her. “You’re crying again, my love. Do you really like being inside me that much?” 

Numbly nodding his head even while the tears continue to streak hot tracks down his cheeks, the blond fumbles for something to say before finally settling on, “I do. Of course I do, but … I want to make you feel good too.” 

A slow smile curls Jeanne’s mouth, more sly and knowing than it is sweet, but like a loyal dog Kaveh is just happy to get whatever he can. He doesn’t mind the way she looks at him like a hungry, powerful predator sizing up its prey and he doesn’t mind the way she reaches down to possessively grope at his chest either. Despite him being almost totally flat and lacking in much to grab, that doesn’t stop her from pinching at his poor little breast until he hisses, half in discomfort and half in pleasure. This, too, he was happy to be on the receiving end of. 

“You are making me feel good, you silly thing. But I’d feel even better if you started moving already. I’m not much for cock warming, you know.” 

He blushes straight up to his ears, stammering out a quick apology. Unconcerned, Jeanne slides her hand further down and then back to reach for his tight ass, giving it an appreciative jostle. 

“Quickly, now. If you don’t act soon I’ll have to fuck you instead and show you how it’s done. Considering the way you reacted just from having my finger inside you I don’t think you’re quite ready for that yet, are you?” 

“N - no, ma’am. I’m not.” 

“Didn’t think so. Then get moving.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

[pathofcomet]

and it’s just around the corner

fandom: stardew valley 

pairing: sebastian/player (female)

summary:  She’s a fool – she tries to tell herself. There’s nothing she can offer Sebastian that would make him stay in this village he so obviously loathes. She’s just dumb enough to have fallen for the man she cannot even bring herself to ask to love her back.

rating: explicit // word count: 25k // AO3

She cannot remember the farm per say, just the proof that she’s been there once: a dusty, yellowed photo of herself, smiling in a pink sundress under the shade of a gigantic oak, 4 years old and beaming. She can vaguely bring back the savour of cranberry jam on her tongue, the authentic, slightly sour taste that only meant home-made. She thinks they had a gray cat, and she can feel the smell of gasoline in her nose, from the long car ride there as a child. That’s all she remembers about her grandparents’ old farm; and anything of that lifestyle is completely lost upon her, or her memories of her grandpa. They haven’t been crazily close either: she was busy pursuing her education too far away to allow proper visits, and the phone signal failed the old man too much to allow even constant communication. When he died, they buried him in the city, next to his wife, and everything about the way he lived his life became hazy and forgotten in the lives of the living.

Which is probably why it is so hard to comprehend what she’s reading now, in her cubicle at work, defeated under her 16th time this month of overwork. Her grandpa was known for being eccentric, which is why she expected to see a card with hey, we all die in the end! or something written on it, and not the dreams of her childhood offered on a plate to her. She stares at the paper, reads and rereads it for 7 times before she’s convinced it’s actually real.

She’s touched at the care in his words, at the oozing affection on that piece of paper. It’s something that she didn’t know she was missing until now. A care sent across generations, to reach her – and when she feels like she needs it most. She doesn’t know if she should scream or cry or laugh.

She looks around: there are only a couple of other workers left in the office at the moment, in the late hours of the night. There’s delivery food all across the others’ empty desks, and a few of the girls switched their shoes, from heels to sneakers. And yet, as she stops, the clanking on the keyboard never ends around her, and the neon light remain buzzing above her, the static noise of her real life nightmare. The sigh coming from a co-worker several seats away is deafening in her ears. As she’s writing her resignation letter, for her boss to find on his desk at the first hour in the morning, she can’t help but notice how her vision shakes, how she can’t quite straighten her back under the pain of hours and hours of being hunched at a desk.

It’s not even the irony of it all, dying in a storm of unfair overworking while those above her wallow in money, that upsets her more. But rather, the way in which she cannot have any satisfaction out of it anymore. As a graduate, she thought she’d find happiness in a corporate job that pays well, but now the comfort of money means nothing when she doesn’t have the time to even spend it, and she can’t even recall what her hobbies are, let alone when’s the last time she did anything else but work, do house chores and sleep.

She cannot recall the last time she met up with some friends, visited new places or ordered online something else but a new pair of heels or a new shirt for work. Gods, now that she hit the brake on her wreck of a life, she can’t stop noticing how pathetic she’s been.

Her hands tremble as she signs the paper, as she tosses her meagre office belongings into her bag, as she pushes the elevator button. She’s already overthinking the decision, but it’s already made and she can only worry about what’s to be done next now. She’s 100% sure she’s not made for this, she has zero knowledge of how to take care of a farm and she still screams when she sees a spider in her apartment. But she’s tired, there’s a tiredness that never seems to let loose, and no matter how much she sleeps on Sundays, she wakes up feeling like she has her hands and feet tied. Even if to only rest for a while, and the whole ordeal would still have been worth it.

Sleep doesn’t come easily to her that night. She reads the letter over and over again, she measures the weight of the keys in her palms, she tries to put puzzle pieces together, from old photos she brings up from hidden boxes. Nothing tells her she made the right decision, though in her old photos, everyone looks so happy while on the farm. Maybe she didn’t even truly get to the end of her patience, just a bad day, maybe she still could have taken it for a while. After all, it’s not like she had that bad of a life. But then, it’s not like it was that good either. And once she started thinking of it, the idea of change became hauntingly tempting. The potential in this new place is infinite, and so, so terrifying.

But a change nonetheless.

She spends the next couple of weeks in a frenzy: selling most of her belongings, keeping only the strictly necessary. She keeps the pictures, of course. A few books, only those that she read during university and she felt like they changed her life, though she hasn’t revisited those stories since. Maybe she’ll finally have the time to, now. She sells or donates all her office clothes, expensive shirts and bags – all gone, because they remind her of some kind of work she never wants to do again in her life.

When she stops to count what’s left, looking at her near-empty apartment, two suitcases and a backpack put aside, she’s overwhelmed at how pointlessly she lived her life up until this point. She has nothing to show for all the efforts she’s made, and she can feel the skin all over her body itch with the realisation, itch for something else to do.

She doesn’t look back, as she’s returning the keys of her rented apartment. She has been paying expensively for the chance to live on her own in the big city, and there’s nothing but bitterness towards that idea anyway. She waits in the bus station with music playing at the highest volume, drowning out an incoming panic attack – as she’s struggling to count up to 10, reassure herself that she’s a grown fucking adult and that she can do something as easy as just moving someplace new.

Still, the scenarios roll in her mind, unperturbed, and she almost throws up thrice before she reaches her destination – and then she almost throws up again, as she’s watching the bus pull away, leaving her alone in the middle of nowhere. The sun is bright, but too bright and her clothes are sticking to her skin, even if it’s barely early spring, and the air is fresh. A fairy-tale start to her new adventure, and yet she feels like crying right then and there, a fain headache booming at her temples from all the anxiety she had to push away.

She’s already exhausted and it’s barely noon. She starts pulling at her suitcases, though the road makes it a tricky and tiring job. Then, just as she’s ready to take her first break, a hand grabs the handle, and she stares up in the face of a kindly looking old man.

Mayor Lewis; she still remembers the face, as he is the kind of person who probably always looked the same. They’ve last seen each other at her grandfather’s funeral, so there’s a bit of awkwardness hanging between the two of them, as she’s allowing him to help her with her luggage.

A redheaded woman is waiting for them in her truck, a bit of a distance away, and she helps them with her stuff. It’s easy to make conversation when friendly people are pushing it forward, and they seem way too enthusiastic about her presence. They don’t even comment about her sneakers, totally unfit for most of the roads in the town, or her outfit, that would rip or get dirty the second she’d encounter a field.

She already has a room prepared at Lewis’ place, there’s no way her old house can offer her proper living conditions just yet. That’s not a jab directed at her, rather at the passing of time and the overgrown state of her courtyard. But there’s nothing mean behind their comments, and they’re even offering all the help they can.

She’s trying to come up with a list of things that she might need, but Robin is already writing one of her own.

“She’s our architect,” Lewis whispers, winking at her in secrecy.

It’s weird and scary and she doesn’t know how to feel about it. Back in the city, she could have crumbled on the sidewalk and nobody would have cared. Here, it seems everyone jumps at the chance to do just that, help and care, and she’s terrified out of her skin. Her thanks are muffled by the weird knot in her throat. When balancing things out in her head, there’s nothing she can give them in equal measures.

The key in her hand feels foreign, but yet it’s that thing that grounds her to the moment, doesn’t let her slip away in that part of her brain that makes her forget things even happened. The house is, of course, a disaster, though someone had the good thinking of covering the furniture. The place is small, and it needs a good dusting, maybe even a new coat of paint. Robin, by her side, is still doing her job.

“Is there anything you want in particular?”

“No, not really. I don’t think so?”

She’s lost and overwhelmed. She’d like to just sit somewhere and start unpacking, maybe go and switch all of her things again actually, because there’s no way she can fit in with these people. But Lewis’ arm is around her shoulder, urging her back the way they came, promising her his special vegetable mix and green tea.

Once finally out of his sight, and comfortably settled in his extra bedroom, she squeezes a pillow close to her chest, hiding her face in it, and starts crying. She sobs – for the grandparents she didn’t properly appreciate while alive, that still left her with so much. For the chance that not many have to switch things around. For the state in which the farm is, and the immense effort she’ll have to put in building it back together. For the pain in her arms, the burn so unfamiliar that it must be only the sign of something new. She’s overwhelmed and scared, and hours pass before she finally falls asleep,

The next morning, she refuses even the breakfast, and immediately heads towards her place, luggage in tow. Mayor Lewis promised he’ll solve the problem of electricity and water running back to the place, so at least she can forget the administrative part.

She greets everyone she passes by, because otherwise the staring just gets too unbearable, and though they’re curious, they also remain polite too. But her courtyard and house are truly disastrous. She’s glad it’s still so early in the year, so the weeds didn’t grow yet on the path towards her door, so at least she can focus on dusting off the room, polishing the floor. She unpacks with nostalgic music blasting from her phone: plates in one drawer, her clothes in the other two. She builds herself a nightstand out of all the books she brought with her, and she washes the curtains by hand, letting them dry out in the sun.

She goes to the town for bedsheets and even more cleaning products, buys a basil plant for the windowsill. The place is small, smaller even than her city apartment, and she has nothing of her own to properly decorate it with, give it a specific charm, so she allows herself to get lost between the small isles of the store, and pick whatever piques her fancy. But this is fine, she thinks. This is, after all, the true definition of a new start.

She watches the sun set from her porch – she thinks she’d like an armchair for the place, it’d make a lovely reading pace if it’s not rainy, and there’s a soft lull from the TV inside, where the weather prognosis for the next day rattles on.

She finds grandpa’s old gardening books, and she starts reading them. She cleans up a small portion of the land, plants some seeds she picked based on Pierre’s recommendations. Gathers wood from the end of the forest that runs almost up to her house, practices splitting it in smaller branches, that she can carry and gather in the small tool shed, for the winter.

During the first night that it rains, she opens her door to a stray, lost dog. She hugs him close to her all through the night, as he whimpers and warms up – and in the morning she names him Max, and buys him dog food and a colourful bowl. She stops feeling so alone, so lost, a purpose forming, even though she can’t quite name it.

When too many days pass with her cooped only at her place, letters and requests for visits start pouring in her mailbox. Sometimes mayor Lewis comes pick her himself, walking around the town with her, stopping to present her to any villager they encounter. She feels like a circus freak being paraded around like this, but she smiles, wonders if Max is getting bored at home or if she could walk through the forest in search of some fruits.

 ***

Then, when the weather prognosis tells of many sunny days in a row, Robin shows up at her doorsteps, can of paint in one hand, brushes in the other – and her son behind her, to help her out.

She watches him, fiddling on the spot, looking like he certainly doesn’t want to be here and she smiles. Well, that’s at least a feeling that she can relate to, even when in her bed after a tiring day, she still sometimes yearns for everything that this place is not. Max helps. In this case as well, as he runs to the door and immediately jumps on him.

“Max, no!” she chides, though he settles calmly on panting up at the man for pats. Luckily, he hasn’t slammed him to the ground, as he tends to do with her, but that’s still no proper way of greeting strangers. “I’m so sorry…”

“Sebastian,” he says. “There’s no problem, really.” He’s scratching the dog between his ears, absentmindedly looking in through the door, at the small place she now calls home. There’s nothing much in there, but she finds herself growing protective over it anyway, at his gaze.

Max, the traitor, is now cuddled down at his feet. From the side, Robin laughs.

Her and Sebastian move the furniture, as Robin tapes newspaper on the wooden floor. She prepares fresh lemonade for her visitors and helpers before they start painting, and she takes a short break just to water her crops. They do the work in silence, mostly, just her phone turned on to fill up the space – and without mayor Lewis’ fast mouth, she isn’t certain what she could possibly talk about. From time to time, Robin asks Sebastian something – regarding his sister, or some things she asked him about before, which sounds a lot like nagging so she prefers to stay out of it.

She thanks them many, many times before they leave for the day. Especially since it was the weekend, and she’s sure they just threw away a perfectly free day on helping her put together her house. She just feels more and more indebted towards all these people. Even if Sebastian didn’t look her way even once.

 ***

She starts going to the local library, borrowing books and learning more and more things about the farm. She accepts the quests from the bulletin board, and in exchange she asks for fishing tips or some town history. She starts taking evening walks, with Max, picking up acorns. She gets stronger and better at all the farm work. She places various orders, starting to gather syrup from the trees near her house – and one lazy day, she makes jam, that she then sells.

She starts counting the money, making plans for the farm. She buys two chickens, and the one day when no one in the town sees her, it is because she struggled all the time to build a fence so that they won’t step all over crops and no fox would reach them during the night.

 ***

Everyone is friendly, showing up at her door with gifts for her new move: a handmade mug from Leah, a beautiful seashell from Elliot, an actual functional first aid kit from Harvey. She suspects the mayor’s doing behind all these kindness acts, and yet it’s with a reverent kind of gestures that she finds a place for all of them in her small house. She starts adding some kind of adjectives to this cast of characters that enter her life.

But with Sebastian, something’s different. She doesn’t know what makes her notice him again; that something that made him stand out from the mass of people she met in the past few weeks. Maybe it’s not even just one single thing, but a mix: like how he is the son of the kindest lady, paler than the farmers or football players, how he doesn’t want to stand out at all, how she has to go out of her way to find him, instead of the other way around.

Most of all, it’s the desperation she can feel off of him. There’s a force in him that cannot make peace with how things are for him at the moment – and it’s the familiarity of it that pulls her in, lets her gaze linger on him for a bit longer, makes her ask about him while smiling in the most innocent way, sipping tea in Robin’s office.

***

They’re not that different; she’s easy to fit in the village life, mostly because she’s so pliable for others, knowing the memory of her grandpa is attached to her as well. She sometimes feels like the older residents of the town look through her, instead of directly at her, and see the ghost of someone else they used to know. And the days pass, things fall together, and yet in her chest, there’s a clock ticking away, counting down the time spent here, because if she was looking for something like belonging, it seems this town buried it away with her grandpa, and things don’t seem that different from how they used to be. She just has dirtier nails now, and some decaying make-up skills.

So she never visits without a purpose, doesn’t get too friendly with most of them. She spends days in a row on her farm, ploughing the land, watering the plants, feeding the animals. Task upon task, she goes through all of them, grateful for how it’s silencing her mind, giving her the time and space to breathe. If she finishes early, she likes to go fishing, the breeze nice against her sun-warmed face, especially as the dusk approaches.

It’s the simplicity of life that lulls her into wanting something more, eventually, tentatively. She visits Robin, as she’s closing the store, so they can share some fresh-picked fruits while watching the sun set. She meets up with the mayor for chess during Sundays, stories of two best friends half a century ago embedded in every sigh, and she wins every time and that’s how she knows he just lets her. When she passes by to drop something for the museum, she spends the remaining afternoon in the library, browsing the collection, reading for the children fresh out of classes that ask her to do so.

But if anyone in Pelican Town would be asked, they wouldn’t be able to tell people that much about their newest villager. In truth, even for those closest to her, there’s an aura of mystery: whatever her life was before, she doesn’t go into details. Whatever and for however long she might remain in their lives, she doesn’t say.

To Sebastian, that’s what makes it easy. He doesn’t expect her to tell him anything, since she’s not pressing her curiosities either. Probably why she opens so willingly, why she creates a routine around his. She always stops at the edge of the river, where she knows she’ll find him in the evenings. They never talk for long, or of important things – but she thinks, the magic is in staring together at the same scenery, feeling much of the same things. After the third time, she asks for a cigarette from him, and she winks at him when he looks just a tiny bit surprised.

This is how it begins. The rest she almost doesn’t even notice.

 ***

She remembers the Egg festival; she’s sure she took part in one of the hunts back when she was little, though the details are foggy in her mind. She doesn’t remember any of the villagers, but she’s been a very shy child, and not even the promise of bunny chocolates was enough to persuade her back then.

Still, she worked for so long in a corporation, at this point the spirit of competition is embedded into her. She wakes up early, and she wears one of her dresses from before, even if she has to match it with grandpa’s old jeans jacket. She even puts on make-up, manages to water her plants as well before she’s walking towards the town.

She officially meets Maru and Demetrius, as they’ve been so busy during her past visits. Marnie clasps her in-between her arms, exclaims how pretty she is when not trying to imitate her house’s looks, and loudly kisses both her cheeks. Gus waves at her, and keeps presenting various plates to her, and by the time she can excuse herself, she’s glad she hasn’t eaten any breakfast. Jas and Vincent come at her yelling tag! and she spends the next half an hour running around, followed by the sometimes annoyed, sometimes happy smiles of the other villagers.

She buys strawberry seeds, more on a whim, because she was craving for some, and gets herself a cute bunny plush, since she’d had trouble sleeping, and she’s sure Max would appreciate her hugging a non-living thing more. She feels like she fits more, now, that she’s surrounded by everyone else, and she realizes that she knows them all, that they know her back – and there’s no outright hostility.

She greets Sebastian, and meets his friends. She compliments Abigail’s hair, Sam compliments her instead. He’s friendly and outgoing, compared to the other two in his group, but she notices Sebastian’s fleeting smile at the toy in her arms, so she straightens her back even more.

As soon as mayor Lewis starts his announcement, Abigail immediately seems more excited, especially since she is presented as the winner for the past decade. However, by the time the day ends, Pelican Town has a new Egg Hunt winner.

The straw hat doesn’t fit her outfit, and it’s not quite yet a necessary accessory, but she’s beaming at every villager that comes to congratulate her, even if she’s already so old and she shouldn’t be so happy about beating a few 10 year olds. Even Abigail is a good sports and promises she will beat her next year.

Next year – she wonders if she’ll even be around for that long. Her saved-up money is slowly trickling down, as she keeps buying things that she needs, and she has no idea yet how much profit she’ll be able to make at harvest time. She feels better knowing her doubts don’t show to others.

She walks part of her way home with Robin and her family. Maru is happily telling her something about her research, though it goes over her head and she doesn’t understand much of what’s going on. Demetrius and Robin walk several steps ahead, arms linked, and it’s a sweet sight to see, that they can be so close even after so many years.

Then, before she takes her turn to her farm, after everyone else said their goodbyes, Sebastian looks up at her.

“It suits you,” he says, so low she almost misses it, nodding his head at her hat. She blushes under the street lamp, but he’s already turned his back on her and he can’t see, so she can go on her own way and pretend it never happened.

 ***

She starts going to the mines, even if everyone tells her she better not. But she needs better tools, more resources and something to do on rainy days, so she goes anyway. She comes out late into the night, dirtier than she’s ever been, spider cobwebs stuck in her hair, but her backpack heavy.

The next morning, she struggles packing some presents for Robin and Lewis, for all the help they’ve showered her in ever since she moved. She doesn’t have much to offer, some syrup and a jar of jam, a few eggs. But as she’s going into town, there are three presents that she’s carefully carrying around in her bag.

She stops by Lewis first, sits on his stairs with a steaming mug of coffee between her hands, as he waters his small garden – and they chat about the weather, the fishing days that Lewis has programmed, their favourite Stardrop meal. The days get warmer and warmer, as they’re slowly rolling towards summer, and she’s feeling peaceful, listening to the mayor’s chatter, his grunts as he digs around, his yelling when she offers to help him around.

She drops by Clint to let him examine some of the stuff she found underground, and by the time she reaches Robin’s place, the older woman is taking her lunch break. She’s exclaiming happily at the gift, and invites her to stay for lunch. She helps her with the plates, and while Robin goes to gather the rest of her family, she sends her to get Sebastian.

She has to breathe deep, count to 10, before she has the courage to knock at his door. There’s the sound of something tumbling to the floor, and she winces; more shuffling, and the door finally opens to reveal a somewhat sleepy looking Sebastian. It looks like he hasn’t brushed his hair yet, as it sticks out in odd directions, and in his own space, he’s wearing some old, washed-out t-shirt that is several sizes too large, and sweats. She stares at him, entirely endeared, but also deeply aware that there’s a line she has just crossed by seeing him like this – and she’s not sure she was allowed to.

“Hi,” she says, at the same time he says “Shit”, closing the door on her. She opens and closes her mouth several times, trying to come up with a proper way to reach to this, but her mind coming up blank.

Eventually, she lamely says “Robin said lunch’s ready,” before she leaves for the kitchen again. Demetrius is already seated at the table, looking up at his wife like she hung up the sun on the sky. Maru refuses to show up, as she’s too invested in her research, but there’s the slam of a door from downstairs, and Sebastian eventually shows up, just as his step-father takes his first bite from his plate of spaghetti. Their guest has not yet picked up her fork.

Sebastian is now wearing actual jeans, and his hair looks a bit more tamed. He sits next to her, and the four of them eat in relative silence, though she’s obsessively thinking of her knee, against Sebastian’s, under the table and she wants to fucking swear at herself, for acting like a fucking cowardly high-schooler.

“So, why did you move to Pelican Town?” Demetrius asks her, in the end. She notices him wincing immediately after the dull thud from under the table, and she imagines that was Robin kicking him from asking a question that no one had dared poise to her until now.

She finishes chewing the food in her mouth, swallowing a bit more painful.

“I needed a change,” she says eventually, entirely too vague.

“From? You should tell Sebastian about your city experience, because he’s obsessed with leaving the town.”

There’s a disapproving tone in his voice that makes her wince, but her head snaps up at Sebastian, who looks both entirely annoyed and disappointed. She’d like to press her finger to the frown now so obvious on his forehead.

“Really?” she mumbles lamely instead. Sebastian’s now looking at her, and although across the table his parents are bickering with each other in low whispers, he doesn’t break the eye contact. He just nods at her question, grabs another bite of food – the words won’t make it any better.

She always thought that the people in this town are happy to live here, heck even she’s trying to understand the charm of the place and why her grandpa never left it. She always thought that if there is someone to leave it, that’d be her, in an example of another of her life’s failures. But here’s Sebastian, burning with a yearning for a city just as hers to leave it was.

He takes her back home, assuring her that his lunch break is long enough to allow him to do that. They’re walking side by side in companionable silence. Sebastian, unlike his father, doesn’t ask her anything, so when they reach her property, she hands him her last package.

“Can I?” he asks, a hand already tugging at the ribbon, and she smiles at him. Inside, there’s an assortment of minerals: quartz, obsidians. She’s found them during her time in the mines, and the only thing she somewhat remembers from her dialogue with Maru is that her brother loves this stuff.

“What’s this for?” he says, voice a little chocked, laughing at the end, embarrassed and overwhelmed.

“Thanks for that day,” she says. Then, more unsure… “And good luck for the future?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She’s already turned around on her feet, a hand up in the air in goodbye.

The next morning, even if Sebastian never eats breakfast, he makes toast and eats it with strawberry jam, from a jar cutely decorated in stickers, where in cursive, their newest villager wrote for Robin and family <3.

 ***

She goes to JojaMart to buy an electric kettle; she can’t quite yet afford to get her kitchen built in, so she’s been eating at the Stardrop Saloon or lived on oatmeal and salads. But the mornings are dreadful with instant coffee and cold tap water, so she’s finally investing in something to make her life a bit better. This lifestyle reminds her of being a student in the dorms, and it’s not something she thought she’ll ever return to.

Sam looks around for his managers, and when there’s none around, he stops next to her and they chat by the vegetable stall. She’s frowning at the price, way higher than what they can find in the town and what she sells her own products for.

“Capitalism,” Sam says brightly, tugging at his employee lanyard, and she laughs at him.

“Oh, trust me, I know all about that.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her, which makes her snort. Shane, his co-worker, turns to stare at them, but he’s not telling them on, so she moves one step closer to him.

“I’ve worked in customer care for Joja Corporation.”

Sam mimics throwing up, turning serious again only when she’s elbowing his side. She’s painfully aware of all the cameras in the store, after all this time away from anything of the sorts.

“But for real, you’re way better in Pelican Town,” he says, even if she’s not yet quite convinced.

But he doesn’t continue pressing the matter. Instead, Sam invites her the next Friday for an evening at the Saloon, where him, Sebastian and Abigail are supposed to play live a few of their songs. She clasps her hands together, and agrees immediately. She used to love this kind of thing: but it’s been so long since she allowed herself to take an evening off, both in her life back in the city, and the life here.

 ***

She’s already a regular, so Emily nowadays greets her with a hug. Though this time she whistles suggestively at her outfit. Since it’s supposed to be a more special night, she chose a low cut blouse to go with skinny jeans, and she’s no more a formless body buried under work clothes. The only make-up is a very dark lipstick. Her… friends, she supposes, are already on the side, tuning their instruments. Sam grins at her, waving her at the table Gus saved up for them, where he ordered pizza for everyone.

They’re not playing for a long time, maybe half an hour, but by the end, everyone is loudly clapping at their performance. She’s the only one whooping, and Sam is loudly laughing at her embarrassed grin afterwards, runs to fall into her waiting arms and twirls her around in the air, feet not touching the floor.

“Who knew our biggest fan would be you?” he says, helping her pat her hair pack into place.

“I did. I mean, your band has Abigail.”

The girl in questions frowns a bit at her, suspicious that it’s less of a compliment than she tried to make it, turns on her feet as she moves to the music box, tosses a coin in and picks a song. It takes a few seconds for her choice to start loudly booming in the saloon, but as soon as she does, she moves to grab at Sebastian’s arm, dragging him to the dancefloor, though he looks like he’s a lamb taken to sacrifice.

Sam laughs at the two of them, then turns back to his new friend.

“Do you think these two will ever hook up?”

She chokes on the slice of pizza that she’s eating, punching at her chest so she can breathe again. Someone slides in the chair next to her to the table, a hand slapping her hard on the back until she can breathe properly again. Then, frowning, she turns towards the newcomer, because she can’t bear looking at Sebastian and Abigail, together, dancing. She doesn’t think she can look at them without imagining them doing exactly what Sam asked her about, and it’s a shaming thought that she burns down. Shane, the one sitting next to her now, has already picked a slice of his own from their order, and nodded in greetings at Sam.

Sam leaves to talk with Penny, spending enough time as it is in Shane’s company, so Shane moves even closer to her, so he can be heard over the loud music. He’s a bit of an asshole, as he’s looking nowhere else but at her cleavage and the skin she’s showing with her choice of clothes. He’s not even trying to hide it, licking his lips, speaking without even trying to lift his eyes.

“Didn’t know the sunshine and the emo buy are hiding such a beauty between themselves,” he says, snaking an arm around her waist, shoving the second pint of beer he arrived with in her direction. He already smells like the stuff though, which means he’s at least tipsy, if not outright drunk yet. There’s offense in the way he said those nicknames, horrible on their own as well, but she’s sitting between the wall and his body and he’s a man showing interest in her, clearly going out of his way to make it obvious.

She takes several big gulps from her beer, and then turns towards him, smiling. He can’t tell it is strained.

“Well, I’m here now,” she says, and the hand around her squeezes in response. She lets him talk, mostly shit about the town, then shit about himself, and she keeps drinking and drinking, glass after glass of alcohol, because then at least she doesn’t have to reply. In the dark, they must look pretty cosy to the others, because no one else returns to the table – and by the time she remembers she is supposed to have friends around, and looks around for them, her vision is unfocused and she can’t make out the shapes and figures all around.

But she can notice the slightly grown stubble on Shane, how he’s now so, so close to her, his lips brushing against her ear each time he tells her something. She feels like she’s about to suffocate. But he tells her about how beautiful she is, how hard he makes her – and he guides her hand to his pants, where she indeed can feel her effect, and it’s a surge of pleasure and power. She squeezes him through his pants, and he groans in her ear. Her nipples perk up. And then his lips move closer, to her neck, where his tongue is lapping at her skin, sucking against the space. She feels hot all over, in a way that she doesn’t know if she likes or not. His other hand is now fondling with her breasts through her blouse, and she gasps – which only makes him to go at it harder. His mouth finds her, his tongue moving against hers immediately. She’s lost in time, doesn’t know for how long he does it – her body becoming lighter and lighter with each swipe of his saliva against her lips.

Then, a cough from behind Shane. She snaps out of her daze, looks up. Makes eye contact with Sebastian, which feels as effective as a cold shower to her fogged mind. She yanks Shane’s hands off her, but he’s unbothered, turns to look at Sebastian with something like disgust and boredom.

“Can we help you?” Shane says. She hates how the word we sounds from his mouth.

Sebastian doesn’t bother to even look at the drunk guy, instead addressing her only.

“Do you want to go home? The others left already, but it’s getting pretty late…” He stops to stare at Shane, and she wordlessly nods at him. He starts moving instantly, shoving Shane away so he can grab her wrist and help her out of her chair. She needs a few seconds to stabilize herself on her feet, stop the dizzying headache that hit her at the sudden movement.

“Come on, man, what do you think you’re doing?” Shane asks, though he also has troubles standing on his own feet. He makes do with leaning against the table, doing his best to look as menacing as possible.

In his arms, she shudders at the sound of his voice, clutches her fingers around Sebastian’s leather jacket. He doesn’t move away, but he doesn’t want to touch her either, so he just stands still.

“She’s coming with me,” is all he says, and when he starts towards the door, she follows silently. He offers her jacket, which he picked up earlier, before checking on her, and she hangs her head even lower in shame. The cold, outside air is quickly sobering her up, and she really can’t believe she lost herself, just as if she were a college freshman. She burns with embarrassment.

Once out, Sebastian moves a bit away from her, offering her space, though he always extends an arm in her direction when she stumbles on both existent and imaginary obstacles. The silence now is excruciating.

“Say something,” she croaks, her throat hurting from all the alcohol.

“Are you okay?”

His voice is soft, and he stops, looks at her for the first time since the start of all this situation. She knows she probably looks like a mess, lipstick smeared all around her mouth, clothes hanging awkwardly, but his eyes just search hers. She suddenly feels like crying. He must see it too, because he’s moving closer to her.

“Can I-” he tries, sighs, moves a hand through his hair in frustration. “Can I touch you?”

She nods, but he doesn’t move.

“I’ll need verbal confirmation.”

“Yes.”

She’s outright staring at him now, as he makes his way to her, cups her face in between his hands. His fingers are cold against her flushed skin, but it grounds her to the moment. Sebastian’s eyes are moving now, across her face: stop at her jaw, her neck, where Shane sucked painful love bites against her skin, visible even only in the light coming from the street lamps. He hesitates before moving his gaze downwards, where similar marks were left by his fingers against her tits. She feels like used goods, even if there is no judgement from Sebastian.

“Did you want that?” he asks again, sounding deadly serious, so she’s trying to think equally as seriously about his question. It’s hard, her thoughts all jumbled up, a soft kind of edge to everything going on in her head.

“I don’t know,” she answers finally, her head pressing more firmly against his palm. Sebastian’s thumbs are now moving softly against her jaw, and she wants to purr, just like a cat, maybe hang on to him for more of his warmth.

“God,” he says, and it sounds like a swearword. He unglues himself from her, extends an arm that she gracefully takes as they continue on the road to her house. He doesn’t say anything more until they arrive on her porch, though he looks like he’s thinking very hard. She’d like to press her finger to the frown on his forehead.

Max is happily snoring on the warm ground, and she lets go of Sebastian to run the short distance to her dog. She goes on her knees, grabs Max’s head in her hands and coos at him like she would to a baby, talks lovesick nonsense to the dog, pats him all over.

Her voice sounds fucking cute, Sebastian thinks, but instead he fishes something from the pockets of his jacket, bends down so he can press it in her palms. She immediately turns to look at him, eyes big and questioning.

“Take those in the morning, okay? You’ll need them,” is all he says, raising a hand and waving it in a goodbye.

 ***

Sebastian is right. She wakes two hours later, empties all the contents of her stomach, tears burning at her eyes, and when she wakes again, she thanks all the gods that outside it is raining, because she only gets up to get a glass of water and swallow the pills. Her head is killing her, and her heart aches in embarrassment at the way she acted. She hangs between screaming out in frustration at her own self and complaining about being hangover the whole day, hating herself so, so very much.

She still shoots Sebastian a text, thanking him for taking care of her, in so many ways, the night before. He leaves her on read.

For the next week, she busies herself with work on the farm. She makes another batch of jam jars, which she sends to Lewis for selling. She plants a new tree sapling, harvests strawberries, even builds an ugly-looking scarecrow out of an old broom. She cuts down wood, saves up stacks of it for when she’ll eventually afford Robin’s services. She goes in the mines, once or twice.

Then one of Lewis’ invitations is waiting in her mailbox, for another festival. Spring is coming to an end, already a sweeter, warmer breeze in the air, so the whole town is to celebrate the exact thing.

 ***

But Pelican Town is a small place, and so it never forgets gossip too easily. On that evening, enough pairs of eyes saw her fumbling in the dark with Shane, and so enough pairs of eyes are now watching her suspiciously as she greets the mayor. She’s wearing some city dress again, though more modest, and ribbons in her hair. She’s forcing herself to smile at everyone she encounters, trying not to seem so affected by the outright cold shoulder.

Sam still greets her, though, grabbing her in his arms.

“Oh, handsome!” she says, and laughs when he’s looking around, to check if anyone else heard her. But he is wearing a suit, his hair is gelled down and he smells like his mother. His eyes are searching hers though, and she thinks Sebastian might have said something to his friend. But thankfully Sam mentions nothing.

She looks behind him, at Sebastian, dressed in a costume as well. Her heart starts beating faster in her chest; his hair is pushed back, and his forehead is now uncovered. He sits relaxed, his hands in his pockets, like he doesn’t really want to be there and she hasn’t seen someone look that heartbreakingly gorgeous.

“You too,” she says. Sebastian raises an eyebrow at her. “Look good, I mean,” she clarifies, and she clears her throat before the awkwardness chokes her.

It’s a big understatement, but it’s the best she can do right now. There’s a small smile that she gets in reply. On the other side of the field, by Robin’s side, Abigail, Penny and Maru look absolutely stunning in their festival dresses, with the flower crowns on top of their heads. They’re laughing at one of Abigail’s stories, and they’re just beautiful and young and entirely enrapturing. She wonders if she didn’t fuck it up so badly earlier, she would have been invited to be one of them.

This time around, there’s not as much mingling with the people as earlier in the season; people are a bit warier, though she supposes she deserves it. She’s busy setting down a mat under a blossoming tree, preparing some kind of picnic and viewing spot at the same time.

“You look beautiful,” she hears from behind her, and she turns around to find Shane. A bit behind him, Marnie is engaged in a conversation with the mayor, and by his side, there’s Jas, who immediately shoves her sandals away so she can step on her mat and sit next to her.

She offers her tea and strawberries, places her own hat on top of the child’s head to protect her from the sun, who squeals in delight that she can show off the winning prize of the egg hunt. Then, she turns back to Shane:

“Is she your daughter?”

“Gods, no. She’s my goddaughter.”

She sighs, relieved a bit. In the morning, Shane looks just scruffy, some kind of sober, but his face is still red and puffy, sign of alcoholism. She knows Jas lives with him and Marnie, and it can’t be a good environment for a child, but she’s heard the rumours that he’s not that much at home anyway. She’s worrying for the young girl, but she also trusts Marnie to handle the subject, not really her place to say anything anyway.

Shane moves closer, his hand grabbing the end of the scarf she’s wearing around her neck, tugging so it comes undone between his fingers. She gasps, palm gluing to the skin there, reaching out for him.

“Give it back,” she all but growls it out, eyes frantically looking around, hoping no one is actually looking their way, since everyone is focused on preparing for the dance.

“I did that, right?” he asks, finally stopping, and she takes back her scarf, hangs her head low, so that her hair can cover her movement, as she ties it back in place.

“Yes, you fucking asshole,” she spits, but doesn’t move away from him.

“I was honest, you know. About you looking beautiful. Then and now too.”

“Thank you,” she says, and stays in place even as Shane gets closer to her. He’s also dressed up, wearing an actual shirt and everything, his jaw freshly shaven. He even looks somewhat attractive, and just like last time, she’s grateful for the attention. Back in Zuzu City, no one bothers with any kind of dating, no one bothers to notice someone else at all – no sweet lies, no prelude, just a dick and a cunt. So this feels new and flattering at the same time.

She sits down on her mat, reluctantly serves Shane too with some of her freshly picked strawberries. Jas moved over to Vincent and Jodi, her hands carefully holding on to the hat that’s still a bit too big for her, so it’s only the two of them in this corner. The music can’t start soon enough, because she can feel stray eyes looking to them.

The dance starts, and she watches, transfixed as the pairs walk towards each other, meeting in the middle in an embrace. Almost immediately the dresses flutter in the air, twirling. There’s an admiring exclamation from somewhere in the crowd, Jas happily clapping along to the rhythm. She looks at Sam, all but drinking up Penny’s laughing face. She looks at Abigail, tightly holding on to Sebastian’s shoulders. She looks at her friends dancing with the girls they have a crush on, and something in her chest rips apart.

“Hey,” Shane says. “Wanna get out of here?”

She nods wordlessly, and he takes her hand. No one looks at them, as they discreetly make their way behind everyone else. Once out the field, Shane breaks into a run through the woods. They stop in a clearing, both breathing hard from their run, and Shane grins at her, before straightening his back, walking purposefully her way and deciding to kiss her. It’s hard and rough, much like he’s been handling her until now too, but she still moans.

His hands are already moving at pulling his belt apart, and he takes her hands and moves them towards his dick.

“Come on, play with it,” he whispers breathlessly, as he’s pulling apart her scarf for a second time today, mouth finding the tender skin, reinforcing the fading marks. She’s feeling needy herself, she’d like him to shove down her panties and eat her out, but she makes do with moving her legs one against the other, seeking some kind of friction, as her hands are moving from his tip towards his balls, slower at the beginning, and faster once he starts grunting in her ear, pumping into her hands.

Then, he grabs at her hair, and she has to bite her tongue to stop from yelping.

“On your knees,” he says, already pushing his weight on her shoulders, and more or less willingly, she gets to the ground. The uneven dirt hurts her skin, and yet she has to ignore it, because Shane is already guiding his dick with his hands towards her lips. She forces herself to open her mouth, hopes he’ll better get down to do the same thing for her.

Her mouth is warm, and she’s fucking good at what she’s doing, sucking hard and taking him all in, like a good bitch, even if tears are forming at the corner of her eyes and her throat is burning. He pulls out, just to slam, hard, back inside her wet, welcoming hole – and in just three shoves, he comes undone, half coming in her mouth, half out just so he can have his fantasy of his cum leaking on her face.

Her dress is stained, and almost all her arousal is out of her. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, presses a palm against the painful strain in her jaw. Shane hurries to put his now flailing dick back inside his pants, and he’s not helping her back up.

“Gotta go,” he says, and he’s patting down his pants, where she held onto and left some creasing.

“What?” she asks, suddenly annoyed. “What about me?”

“Solve it yourself, princess.”

He starts walking away. She screams after him.

“Oh, fuck you!”

“My pleasure, next time!” he shouts back, but he doesn’t stop, as he’s making his way back towards the festival.

She shoves the middle finger up in the air, stomping her feet at the same time, shrieking.

“You fucking asshole!”

He chuckles at her tantrum, but he’s spent and satisfied, while she’s there frustrated and fucked over, so he’s not bothering to take her too seriously.

There’s no way she can go back there without everyone else figuring out exactly what she’s been up to. Of course, Shane looks no different than his usual, maybe he’s even surrounded by some post-orgasm glow, but there’s some bleeding from one of her knees, his now dry cum on the front of her dress, and her hair is nothing but a mess. She can’t believe how fucking stupid she can be, and how she fell again in the same old game of “I give you some attention, you give me some sex” that she’s been playing for ages now. It seems like habits don’t change, no matter if she’s in Zuzu City or Pelican Town.

And for what? Just because she felt lonely and jealous, because she felt like no matter how much she’ll try, she’ll never be anything but a passing fancy to these people that know each other inside out?

She makes her way towards her farm stomping her feet, swearing at Shane and mumbling curses all the way. Once back, she draws herself a hot bath and, in the tub, finally somewhere safe, she touches herself, moans out into the air a name she doesn’t dare to even say out loud, and thinks of someone who never even looked at her in any way to indicate she might want her too.

So, she must make do with fucking Shane?

But as she succumbs to her orgasm, moving lower into the water, maybe she can just order a dildo online and leave it at that.

*** 

On the first summer days, she takes up fishing. She buys a bottle of mead, because she’s heard from mayor Lewis that’s the favourite drink of their local fishermen, and she goes down the beach to beg.

She wants to learn fishing, she says. Just a couple of lessons, whenever he can leave his store and he’s willing to – she really just wants some new hobbies. It’s dreadfully awful to have only three functional TV channels, and only a dozens of books. Even Max is just a dog, and there’s a limitation to what he is capable of. Willy is funny and wise in the way only old men who love the sea can be, but he’s patient in his explanations – and sure enough, very soon, she catches her first fish.

She takes a picture of it on her phone, proud of her achievement. She sends it to Sam, to boast a bit and to annoy him, because he’s currently stuck at his part-time job. Then she goes shell hunting, because she’s too giddy to do any actual work. The villagers recently rebuilt the small bridge on the beach, and it’s lovely to get to take a walk like this. She wants her house to have the same fresh feeling, so she visits Robin for an upgrade.

And she knows she’s paying for the work, but with Robin, she feels like she’s asking for a favour, so she must give something back. And because she feels guilty, for having thought so angrily and jealously about Sebastian and his life, she wants to say sorry in a way, even if he has no way of knowing why she’s doing it in the first place.

Robin’s outside the house, just having come back from an exercise class at Caroline’s. She greets her visitor just a bit more strained than usual, and well – there’s no doubt that if there’s a gossip mill in the town, that’s probably the weekly gathering of middle-aged wives.

The farmer sighs, agrees to wait in the house while Robin takes a shower, before they can discuss about work.

“Is Sebastian home?” she asks, and the older woman makes a dismissive sign with her hand, which means she can go and check for herself.

The door to his room is slightly open, and he actually asks her to come in when she knocks. She greets him from the doorway, suddenly shy when he speaks, suddenly guilty that she’s interrupting him. She sits down on the couch, starts by watching him work, and then eventually she gets distracted by the posters on his walls, and the huge book collection he is showcasing on his shelves. It’s work that she’s familiar with, the stuff she liked to read before, when she used to have time for her hobbies, about worlds that she could escape to only by reading about them in books, featuring magic and dragons and robots.

He doesn’t seem to mind her looking around, as long as she’s quiet. Then, he eventually finishes, and sighs, stretching out his arms.

“Sorry about that, had to finish what I was working on.”

“Ah,” she nods. “And what is that?”

“I do freelance programming,” he answers. “I just want to save up enough to move from here. You know, if I’d gone to college, I’d probably be making six figures right now… but I just don’t want to be part of that corporate rat race, you know?”

“As a rat,” she says, a smile already on her face, “I totally agree with you.”

He looks at her; this is the first hint he gets – of something more about her. He’s heard from Sam, of course, about her actual job in the city, but it’s different to know it from her, to know he has her trust, to hear the defeat behind her voice, even as she tries to hide it with humour.

Then the moment is broken, the ping from his IM breaking the companionable silence between them. Normally, he’d have to explain to people why he is not in the mood to meet up with others, his introversion something out of a freak show with the villagers, but she just nods at him in understanding.

But the next interruption is almost brutal, Robin returning to pass on Abigail’s message, so filled with dismissal at his work, and indifference at his preferences. The easy air about him, as he was talking about a work he clearly loves and his dreams, is now entirely stifled – and instead he, defeated, just accepts all of this, even if he complains. She’d like to press her finger to the frown on his forehead.

This situation makes her blood boil, though: because she’s been in his exact spot. She’s had people look down at her choices for as long as she’s decided to walk her path, out there in the city – and now that she knows what it’s like not to, she can’t take to be the witness to it happening in front of her. Of course, some people will always have something to say, but it should be different with those considered friends – considered family, no?

From the kitchen upstairs, Robin is calling out her name – now, suddenly, she doesn’t really want to go, especially when she knows her presence is soon to be replaced by someone else’s. So, she acts daringly. She touches his arm, as she raises to go:

“You know, I think you’re doing an amazing job, especially considering your conditions. And trust me, it really is better than being a clog in the corporate system, and your work is important, even if it’s important for you only.”

As soon as she came, she’s gone and he loses his chance of asking for more. She left behind another sloppily packed present on his desk, a piece of quartz inside. He gets up, moves to put it up on his shelves – and shit, he wonders if she noticed the other stuff she’s given him, up there.

 ***

So Robin starts coming around with her carpenter tools, sometimes so early in the morning that she’s welcoming her still in her Disney pyjamas. They drink instant coffee, warm this time – and they discuss recipes that she’d like to try in her new kitchen, or the kind of animals she’ll grow in the barn. She learns that Robin loves goat cheese, and she shares that she absolutely hates peppers. She asks about Sebastian and Maru’s childhoods, she tells of her grandpa’s favourite magic trick.

The sound of Robin’s hammer accompanies her through her motions, as she’s ploughing the land for the summer crops. She didn’t really understand how lonely she has been all these months, just going through what she has to do. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, even if just for a few stolen minutes.

Sebastian drops by during his breaks sometimes, to bring his mother’s lunch, and both women nag at him so much that he ends up eating with them, Max nestled at his feet under the table.

Once, she walks back with him towards the town; she needs to drop by Pierre’s, to order some kitchen utensils – and by Lewis’ house, to leave him a note with info on her next batch of syrup and honey, that she sells for some good prices. He strains himself to walk in a pace that matches hers, even if he just wants to hurry home and take a nap.

She noticed, how tired he looks lately: hair more dishevelled, the slight stubble on his chin, the dark under his eyes. She knows, from Robin, that he spent even more time than usual in his room, refusing to meet even Abigail or Sam. She’d like to press her palm on his forehead, check for any signs of sickness.

“Are you working a lot these days?” she asks, fumbling with the edge of her t-shirt, feeling shy and worried that she might be overstepping.

“Had a tight deadline, but it’s over now.”

He pushes the hair out of his eyes with his hand, pats the pockets of his jeans with the other. He takes out his cigarettes, and then swears.

“Shit, do you have a lighter?”

In fact, she does. Sometimes, when she goes to the mines, her flashlight flickers and dies out, so she started the habit of carrying candles on her expeditions, and always a lighter in her pocket. She offers the fire; she has to stand on her tiptoes and he has to bend down to make it work.

Sebastian looks at her; she’s determinedly staring at the ground. They’re so close that even in the summer heat, she can feel his breathe on her cheek. Once the cigarette is lit, she almost scrambles away, pressing her palms to her cheeks, complaining about the hot weather.

She starts walking faster, afraid of what she might do if Sebastian looks into her face. There’s a small smile on his face that she can’t notice.

 ***

Pierre’s store is more of a general hangout spot for his daughter, though – Maru is eating her lunch with Abigail in a corner, and she waves at the two of them as she turns towards the counter. Of course, Pierre convinces her to buy several types of flower seeds – and she walks around the town with those in her arms. She thinks she might actually be his best customer. Or easiest, which in his case, it is one and the same thing.

That’s how she meets Evelyn: in the town square, taking care of the flowers. In truth, she never stopped to think about who maintains the town, and now she seems to have her answer. There are many people around; Penny with the kids, playing in the water fountain. Mayor Lewis and Harvey discussing in front of the clinic, Gus sticking a request on the board.

But the old lady spots her shopping, and sits her down on a bench, where she lectures her on the proper way to take care of them.

Then, the tone shifts – and the older woman asks her about the animals she’s growing (they’re well), how she finds Pelican Town (nice) and what’s her favourite flower (hyacinth).

“You know,” she laughs. “I almost married your grandpa.”

She sputters, unsure how to take this wild what-if she’s presented with. Of course, if Evelyn would have ended as his wife, she wouldn’t be here at all. And still, her curiosity gets the best of her.

“What happened?”

“Oh, George – that’s my husband, dear – bought an old farm here in town and moved one day. The next thing you know, everyone was smitten with the new farmer, me included. And by then, your grandpa was already in the army.”

And when he returned from the army, he returned with a wife – that’s a story that she knows. Grandpa met her grandmother at one of the dance evenings organized for young soldiers, and if the story she was told as a child is to be believed, he danced with no one else that night, the next and all the other ones that followed.

“How was he like?”

Sometimes, when it comes to someone you love, it’s hard to consider them from another point of view than the one you were always familiar with. He has always been just her grandfather to her, yet Evelyn here has seen him growing, becoming all those things to all those many people: son, neighbour, husband, father.

“He always worked hard, stirred trouble wherever he went and loved this town like no other,” she says, a faint smile on her face, lost in memories.

That sounds like the old man alright.

“Th-thank you, Evelyn.” Her voice sounds a little chocked. Just a little.

“Psssh, please. Call me Granny.”

The old man takes her hand, squeezes her fingers in hers – and pats her butt when she gets up to go home.

 ***

“Hey, mom,” she says, pressing the phone closer to her ear. It’s the first phone call she’s making from the landline, and there are jitters all over her skin. She hates that she has to stay still, glued to one spot the length of the phone’s cable. Her brain goes in override.

“Darling!” her mother exclaims from the other side. There’s some shifting, the sound of a door closing, then a sigh. “How are you? How’s Pelican Town?”

She tries not to sniffle outright, tries not to cry that she wants her mother when she’s a fucking grown-up adult, but that really is how she feels. It was all okay, the construction almost to an end, her crops growing beautifully – and then Max gnawed at her only good pair of shoes, and the thing sent her into a spiral of self-pity. She really has no idea what on earth she is doing here.

Instead, she asks: “Did you like living here?”

She is grandpa’s only living child. After her older brother’s death, she simply packed her stuff and moved to a shitty dorm in city, got married in two months and had her almost immediately after. Nowadays, her father is drowning in alcohol and her mother is drowning in work – and she wonders if the first coping mechanism may be more useful than the latter, though her last experience seems to point to a no.

“No,” her mother says. “But depends on what you’re chasing, or what you’re running away from. So, do you like living there?”

She tugs at the phone cord, shifts on spot, looks at Max sleeping a few feet away.

“M-maybe? I don’t know.”

“That’s not a no,” her mother says, ending the call immediately afterwards.

She sits on the same spot, with the tone dead in the background for a very long time, just staring out the window at the setting sun.

 ***

With the new barn built, she visits Marnie about filling it with the appropriate animals. She’d like a sheep, just because she thinks knitting would be a useful hobby to pick up by winter. Maybe a goat, so she can make cheese and thank Robin properly for all the overtime work she put in finishing her house so early.

Jas is out with Vincent, but before discussing the price of the animal, Marnie hands her the straw hat and her picnic mat. She burns as she takes those from her, not knowing what to say. It’s been two weeks since she ran from the town’s celebration, and even now, she burns with the shame of that day. She starts looking around.

“He’s not-”

“At work, dear,” she says, and finally she starts calculating and writing down something at her desk.

“So you know.”

“Everyone knows,” she says and sounds forcefully cheerful, although she must understand what weight her words have, because the farmer is slouching in a chair, head hanging in her hands.

“There’s nothing going on,” she wails, looking up at Marnie, begging her to believe her – even if she’s just a stranger, asking for a bias against her own blood relative.

“Nothing going on anymore?” Marnie corrects, moves to pat her on the shoulder, signalling at the same time for the young woman to follow her. She nods her head, defeated, and Marnie has to wonder what exactly did this hard-working farmer see in her drunk nephew. She feels relieved to know that she put an end to it. Maybe exactly because she got involved with her good for nothing boy that she feels a bit more forgiving towards her.

She talks her in getting another chicken too, as an apology for having fucked around with her nephew. She doesn’t have the heart to correct this motherly woman that it was, in fact, the other way around. But either way, she’s forgotten.

She knows that because the next day, Penny calls her and asks her to spend the day together with the kids on the beach. She shouldn’t be that surprised to see Sam there too.

 ***

She asks everyone she gets along with over, after the house expansion is finished. She spent most morning just preparing various recipes, to fit everyone’s taste. Penny arrives first, dropping an apple pie on her kitchen counter and moving around the house to admire Robin’s work. She’s been thinking of doing something about her trailer-living situation for a while.

Abigail and Maru arrive together, with a plate of Robin’s spaghetti. Her and Demetrius decided it’s better to skip the evening, seeing how everyone else there is the same age as their children. She learns that Abigail is supposed to start her second year of university in autumn, and that Maru is going to do her master’s in astrophysics.

She whistles appreciatively, makes fun of her literature degree on the way. The two then huddle together in a corner of the porch, feeding Max stray bits of food and cooing at him when his tail starts wagging.

Sam and Sebastian arrive the last, each carrying a board game in their hands. It’s smart thinking on their side, because she’s not sure what she would have entertained her guests with otherwise. They huddle around the table, filling up plates with at least five different food recipes, passing iced tea and lemonade around. Abigail has this perfect skill of being able to imitate Lewis’ announcement voice perfectly, which in turn makes Sam snort his drink out of his noise. It makes everyone else lose it, and afterwards there’s no awkwardness hanging between them.

Penny helps Sam clean up in the kitchen, and they’re gone for way longer than necessary, though everyone else at the table is polite enough not to comment on it. Abigail and Maru, sitting one across the other, keep looking at each other while the other is not looking, and Abigail might be eating so much chocolate cake that she risks getting sick.

Sebastian sits next to her, smiling softly at a story that Penny is telling, from their time together in high-school. She should, technically, feel left out of the loop, but each time she mentions someone unknown, or a habit they used to have as a teenage group, Sebastian leans over closer to her, and whispers explanations into her ear. His voice, low and smooth, makes her feel like she’s melting down her chair.

Sam and Sebastian go out for a smoke, and she’s following them too, asking for a cigarette from Sebastian, letting her lighter pass around in a circle. The sun has already set, and there’s only the soft buzzing sound of her lamp in the air. The boys are talking about their rehearsal schedule, ask her over sometime, which she happily agrees to.

“Hey,” Sam says, kicking at her leg with his shoe. “Are you single?”

“What the fuck?!”

Sam raises his hands in the air, talking with his cigarette between his teeth. “Don’t shoot the messenger!”

She was ready to punch his elbow, but is now lowering her arm, frowning at him. Behind Sam, Sebastian continue smoking, refusing to get himself involved in this mess.

“Whose messenger?” she asks, though there’s a teasing edge in her voice, clearly proving that she doesn’t believe anything else but his own curiosity brought him to this rudeness.

“Look man – uhm, woman I guess, we’re all friends here, no judgement zone.”

“You just laughed at Maru for liking math two minutes ago!” she points out, this time her kicking his leg.

“You can just not answer the question,” Sam says, pacifying, turning towards Sebastian to offer him his lighter, as he’s already on his second cigarette.

“No, it’s fine.” She feels embarrassed for causing a scene, when it’s not even such a big deal. “I am single.”

She starts walking a bit away, making it seem like she’s inspecting the shrub just next to the stairs.

“So no Shane?” this time it’s Sebastian asking, which is surprising because she did not expect him to care.

“No Shane,” she confirms, her voice a bit weaker than she intended it to be.

Sam punches the air in a victorious movement, grinning at her.

“Thank God, that guy’s a fucking asshole.”

He shivers a bit in the cold night air, wearing only a t-shirt, and with a goodbye thrown over his shoulder, he goes back inside. Sebastian moves his hand in the air a bit, gesturing to his unfinished smoke, but she’s still not making a move to go back.

“But him and Penny… totally a thing, right?”

“Totally,” Sebastian says, and they both burst out laughing.

***

When Abigail phoned to tell her about Luau, she actually mostly whined that summer festivals are the most boring ones, because everyone is so busy tending to crops and making the most out of the long days. The farmer herself was actually taking a break, at the height of the summer heat, with a glass of iced water, but counting down the minutes before she’d be back in the garden, pulling out the weeds and gathering ripened fruits.

She still gets invited to Luau with everyone else; somewhat of a temporary, potentially forever fixture to their group. There’s a gaping hole opening in her stomach when she thinks of this, anxiety bubbling all inside her body making her feel sick. She feels like something terrible surely must happen soon, considering how much joy she gets from all these people.

She has sent some stuff to mayor Lewis, to add to the potluck soup: fresh tomato, some mushrooms, basil. But still, the thing looks completely inedible.

“Are we trying to kill the governor?” she asks, as she’s carefully looking at the bowl in her hands.

Sebastian laughs, turning his upside down in the sand. She’d really like to do the same thing.

“It’s tradition!” Maru explains, frowning at her brother.

“Are we choosing governors based on the quality of their stomach?” she tries again, this time sniffing at the stuff. Its consistency looks absolutely… gluey.

Sam joins the laughter this time, and Sebastian pats Maru’s shoulder in some attempt at an excuse. Abigail is the only one who actually eats the stuff, though her face turns somewhat pale as soon as she is done. The governor looks like he is perfectly fine, and even praises their soup, which makes everyone visibly relax.

 ***

Maru’s birthday was a solitary thing; just another ordinary working day, celebrated only with chocolate cake in the evening with the entire family. Robin builds her another bookshelf, Demetrius and Sebastian get the money for a new telescope. No other guests are invited, though random gifts still find their way to her mailbox: a stray astrology book, a new case for her glasses.

Sam’s not that different, though they all heard the rumours that immediately after his shift, he visited the museum, and spent a very, very long time there. They meet on Friday night at the Saloon though, so that the band can play and the others can cheer. They’re spectacular, as usual, and when doing something they love, all three of them look younger than she has ever seen them.

Penny is at her side, an arm looped around her waist, and they’re both swaying their bodies on the rhythm of the music. Sam winks in their direction, though the redhead pretends she doesn’t see it.

 ***

On one of their river discussions, Sebastian mentions frogs to her once; something she’s been terrified of for as long as she remembers. But there’s just such a soft smile on his face, and his voice is so calm: and as such, she thinks to give it a try. Which is exactly why he finds her one day, as he goes to visit Sam, by the river bank, on all fours, staring into the water.

She yelps when he hears him calling out to her, fluttering her arms in the air in a panic. It’s that movement that makes her stumble forward in the water. She doesn’t know how to swim, but the water is low enough to not be a problem, but as she gets up, sitting on her ass in the middle of the river, she scowls at him.

“I hate you,” she says.

He smiles, and with the sun at his back, it’s the most beautiful sight she’s seen. He offers her a hand, which she accepts gratefully, trying to remain as dignified as possible, considering that her clothes are now stuck to her body and there might be some mud on her butt.

“What were you doing?” he asks, and she immediately reddens under his attention.

She mumbles her answer; she’s a terrible liar, so she doesn’t even try. This time, Sebastian actually laughs at her, and she crosses her hands at her chest, both indignant and cold.

“I hate you,” she says again, this time accentuating each of her words. But there’s no fire behind it, so he ignores her remarks. Instead, he unzips his hoodie and, slowly, places it on her shoulders.

“But-” she starts, already moving to remove it, give it back, refuse the help, her natural instinct kicking in. He hasn’t stepped back, and having him so close, she notices the subtle smell of his aftershave, the dark marks under his eyes. She wants to get on her tiptoe and let her fingers run through his hair, so soft from up this close. Then he speaks, the magic breaking, and she moves her eyes down to her shoes, shy all of the sudden.

“Sam’s living real close, so it’s really no problem.”

He’s trying very hard not to move his eyes away from hers, face burning red with embarrassment – and only then does she realize she’s wearing a white shirt, and she’s wet –

“Oh,” she says, lamely, moving her arms through the sleeves and zipping it up. “I… I’ll wash it and bring it back to you.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he says, before awkwardly saying his goodbyes. Sam will chew him out for being late, and Abigail will frown at him for not letting them know about this ahead of time.

But their new farmer will stand by the river bank for a long time still, looking down at the water, even when Vincent passes her by and laughs at the wet pool that dripped at her feet.

***

She likes taking the mountain path, especially during hot summer days: less people to stop and chat with under the sun, more shade from the trees, chances to see a wild bunny or a squirrel, maybe picking up some wild fruit. She learnt to enjoy these things, that felt like such a chore back in the day, when she was simply a child helping out her relatives. Maybe because, from start to finish, in everything she does for her farm, she leaves a part of herself in there.

She’s as familiar with Robin’s garden as she is with her own, and that’s why it takes her brain a bit to catch up with what she is seeing.

She didn’t even expect to see Sebastian at all, and especially not like… this. Sprawled under his motorcycle, the picture perfect of her dream boy from high-school. It’s then when it dawns on her that she might have some other reasons too, for visiting Robin today, for picking the mountain path, for going to the mines so often, even if she’ll never admit it to anyone else.

For a second, she hates him so much for having been so kind to her, for having taken care of her, for his beautiful smiles and his unending understanding. For having made her like him so much, when this recluse and silent man seems to dislike everything that she is starting to like lately.

She crushes the feeling coming up in her chest; the despair and the need to go and run as far away from him, before they make eye contact, before her beating heart goes into override.

Sebastian heard her approaching footstep though, and as he’s coming up, t-shirt clinging to his chest, she closes her eyes. God help her not to jump this man right here and now.

“Hey you,” he says, the corner of his lips lifting up a bit seeing her.

She waves, taking a deep breath as she approaches him, taking a seat on the outside bench. He picks up the tool that he needed, and goes back to work. She stays put right where she is, watching him.

“You know, it’s fascinating to watch someone do something I know nothing about,” she laughs, thinking of her useless literature degree as well, her dirt stained nails and her dead-end job back in the city, so opposed to his programming skills and the coppery smell of his motorcycle.

“That’s how I feel when you talk about farm upgrades with mom,” he says, and then asking her for another tool – it’s the round one with a yellow handle.

She shifts closer; he gets out from under the metal labyrinth of his bike enough to nod at her in thanks when she hands it to him. But he understands her feeling better than he manages to put it into words, especially since he’s been an outcast in the village for so long; heck he’s not sure anyone else but her even accepts what he’s working, let alone understand it.

But if there’s someone who can get it, it’s certainly the city girl who gave up everything to become a farmer. Much as he wants to drop everything here just for a shot at the big city. It’s the same strangling hope in his voice, that she’s detected the first time they met, when he talks about his short escapades.

He gets up, wiping his hands on a dirty old rag. There’s a dark stain on his cheek that makes him so incredibly cute, and yet the contrast couldn’t be more obvious with his muscles.

“You could come with me next time,” he says, and he purposefully looks at her, digging out her reactions.

She blushes, all red, prettily and opens her mouth to say something, closes it again. Then, with a bit too much eagerness, that makes her seem just a bit too desperate to do the right thing, she says:

“I’d love to.”

“Great,” he says, and this time it’s a full smile that he graces her with.

They move to enter the house now, the sun setting at their back, and he holds the door open for her. She has to squeeze by him, so close that she can feel the smell of oil mingled with his sweat, and the always present soft aroma of soap.

Robin is in the kitchen, preparing hot chocolate for everyone; Abigail is over too, in Maru’s room, the two’s laughter loud enough to be heard from downstairs. Demetrius is in his office, researching something in one of his biology tomes.

She immediately moves to help Robin; now familiar with the layout of her kitchen, with everyone’s favourite mug. His mother yells at Sebastian to go and take a shower before even daring to enter her kitchen, which is exactly the reason why he moves closer to her instead, loudly kissing her cheek.

Robin shrieks, hitting him with the spoon she’s holding in her hand. Their guest watches the scene with a soft smile; she likes it when there’s no bitterness between the two, which is something that comes way easier when no one else in their family is around.

She presents Robin with her first goat cheese; it’s experimental yet, really I have no idea if it’s any good, but she gathers her in her arms anyway, thanking her from the bottom of her heart. She carefully places it in her fridge.

And while Robin goes to Demetrius’ office, forcing a break out of this man as they plan to drink their hot chocolate together, she’s tasked to bringing up the girls’. She knocks, but it still doesn’t feel like sufficient incessant to stop whatever they were doing, because when she opens the door, Maru’s in Abigail arms, having a somewhat lost look on her face. Abigail’s lipstick is all over Maru’s neck, and smeared around her lips, and both their mouths are pulsing red with the pressure of shared kisses.

She blushes under their eyes, hates to have interrupted what she just did. It’s worse than if they were having sex, because the tension in the air is so thick she can choke on it.

“R-Robin said-” she tries, but she’s so embarrassed that she just leaves the tray on the desk, and all but bolts down the stairs.

Shit, she thinks.

“Shit,” she exclaims out loud as well. She’s so wind up she doesn’t hear the footsteps following her, and she almost screams when Abigail’s hand comes down her shoulder.

“Hey, look, let’s be chill about it and keep it a secret, yeah?”

“Of course,” she nods her head. “And I’m really sorry…”

“Our fault for being daring enough not to lock the door. But in our defence, we didn’t think that would happen,” Abigail says, winking at the other woman, before moving upstairs, probably to calm down her lover.

The theme of her life is that she is a big, stupid, idiotic fool. She’s been jealous for months on a relationship that didn’t even exist, and now she feels guilty and embarrassed all over again for what she did when overcome by those emotions. She stands in the middle of the hallway, hating herself so much that she would burst into flames if she had magical powers.

Sebastian finds her eventually, grounds her back to reality with a soft touch against her elbow and a soft call of her name. She startles like she’s been shot, almost jumping out of her skin, before things start refocusing around her. Sebastian, after his shower, smells like pine and mint, and he’s wearing shorts.

“Come on,” he says, slowly guiding her back to the kitchen, where their drink probably went cold already. At the back of his leg, Sebastian has a tattoo: a man lying face down, ten swords hanging above his body.

“That’s cool,” she nods her head at the design, sipping from her hot chocolate.

“Thanks. Sweet sixteen present, teenage rebellion and everything.”

“I ran away from home when I was sixteen,” she says, and Sebastian rises his eyebrows, clearly sceptical.

“For real!” she laughs. “I came here, to gramps.”

“Can’t remember you ever being up here,” he says, but now he’s curious.

“Well, of course, he called my mom the second I entered the house, and next morning she came to pick me up, but still.”

Sebastian snorts at her story, and she’s beaming at him with the largest smile possible, having gotten such a reaction out of him. It seems like it’s so easy for her to rile him up, or to get him involved enough in what she’s doing that he can’t filter his reactions anymore.

He walks her home that evening; she insisted he didn’t need to go through the trouble, since she’s out even later all the time, but Robin pushed, especially since Abigail was to sleep over, so she didn’t need Sebastian to walk her home.

In the end, she had company on the way home.

“Sorry for the trouble,” she says. Sebastian is smoking again, and only shakes his head. They continue their conversation from earlier, about how they used to be as kids and teenagers, periods in time that feels very far-away. Then she tells him of her past job, how she used to want to kill herself every time she entered the building, how there was no more city around her, and just the clutch of overwork and need for money.

She breathes easier here, she says. She hasn’t seen the stars in years, she adds.

She’s looking up at the sky, but Sebastian is looking at her.

She’s seemed lost on that first day, overwhelmed as she looked around at her inherited plot of land, and he’s given her two weeks maximum to survive in there. And here she is, rounding on six months, looking like she’s always belonged.

She hands him his sweater, thanks him again, in that sweet voice that matches her face, but not her personality when she’s swearing. He wishes the road between their houses was longer, longer than to Zuzu City, so long that they could have the entire night at their disposal.

 ***

“You’re late,” she says, from where she sits on the pier, her feet just a few centimetres above the water surface.

She’s barefoot, and she’s wearing a thin and short dress, and showing so much skin that Sebastian is a bit distracted at first. Technically, they haven’t set a meeting time, but he is indeed the last of the villagers to arrive on the beach for the dance of the moonlight jellies. By now, the others are also grouped together, leaving her alone.

She pats the space next to her. He sits down, yawning.

“Sorry, I was up until 3am reading a new book.”

She lights up then, shoots question after question at him: about his favourite authors and books, hints at the volumes he knows she’s seen on his shelf. They decide to buddy read a book together, and the next day he finds her favourite novel in his mailbox, he sends his instead. His are in pristine condition, while hers are underlined all over, notes scrambled over the margins that he spends a lot of time trying to decipher, corners dog-eared. The first few are a hit and miss, then slowly, as they go through the volumes, writing long texts and handwritten note with their thoughts on it or calling each other late into the night, they start to figure each other’s state, collections growing on each side.

On Penny’s birthday, no one can find the young woman almost the entire day. For that matter, they had the same problem with Sam too.

On Abigail’s birthday, she knocks on the farmer’s door in the middle of the night. The other woman is sleepy, bleary eyed, and she knows that something serious is going on because Abigail doesn’t even make fun of her pyjamas. She opens the door, wordlessly. Makes some tea, as Abigail plops on the rug on the floor, nuzzling Max.

She passes her a steaming cup of tea, sits in front of her in much the same manner.

“What happened?”

It takes Abigail a long time to reply, and when she does, she stumbles over words.

“I-I came out to my parents. Let’s say they didn’t take it too well. Sebastian lives with M-Maru so it didn’t feel like the smartest move, and Sam’s mother already has enough things to worry about. I had no-nowhere else to go.”

She shouldn’t be this surprised when the farmer leans closer, wrapping her arms around her, squeezing her close. Abigail reaches up her hands, tugs at the pyjama top and starts sobbing. There’s a large wet mark on the other woman’s shoulder when she is done, though she doesn’t seem to notice it as she’s running around her house, pulling out a rolled up mattress and building a make-shift bed in the middle of the room. She’s gentle as she moves Abigail to her bedroom, helps her in bed, petting at her hair, and chanting it’ll be okay over and over again.

Abigail’s already asleep when she moves to the kitchen, scrolling through her contacts list. It takes a few seconds before the person at the other end picks up, and Sebastian’s voice sounds muffled. She imagines him for a second, face half-hidden in his pillow, dishevelled hair. Then:

“It’s Abbie.”

The next day, Sam and Sebastian show up on her doorstep at 6am with chocolate cake, and they barely even greet her before moving inside, slamming open the door to the room where Abigail’s sleeping, essentially waking her up. But they also jump on the bed, squeezing themselves in the small space, peppering her face with kisses, even as she screams at them to stop, that they’re gross. But she’s laughing.

Over breakfast (eggs and salad and chocolate cake), they discuss what they should do next. There’s enough space here for two people, and it makes most sense to have Abigail live here for a while, until things calm down a bit.

“Did,” Abigail starts, unsure, playing with a tissue, “Maru tell your parents?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, and he feels like he really needs a smoke.

“I guess it went well.”

Abigail ends with a laugh that resounds dry and bitter in the room. Sam’s leaning towards her, holding her hand.

“Your parents will come around,” he says. “They just need to get over the initial shock.”

Except Abigail, everyone else nods. It’s hard to imagine Pierre staying mad at anyone, let alone his own daughter. But Pelican Town is a small enough place that such a thing might take a long time to forgive in the eyes of others. After the guys leave that first day, Abigail spends the entire day in bed. The next one, she joins her host for coffee, asks about the pumpkin patches.

When the Stardew Valley Fair rolls around, she helps the farmer fill Robin’s truck with her products. The older woman hugs Abigail that day like she’s a long-lost daughter, which makes her cry all over again.

 ***

The Fair itself is nice; the trees around had already started to turn orange, and it gives the place a really cosy atmosphere. Almost everyone in town buys something from her stall, and Marnie even comments that she fits right in. She enters Lewis’ competition with her pumpkins, but she loses to Shane’s chickens, which is a totally deserved win on his side, though she hates to admit.

Abigail makes up with her family that day, because the second she steps in town, her mother drops a crane of jars, swears, and runs up to her baby girl to hug the life out of her, cry and apologize. Pierre is sniffling at his stall, next to her – and she passes him her handkerchief.

Then, because Abigail is Abigail, she kisses Maru in front of everyone. George whistles, loudly and everyone laughs, which ends any discussion on the topic. With this scene, the farmer thinks she has just fallen a bit in love with the man herself.

Shane approaches her, to boast his win.

“Congrats,” she says, though she is pointedly not looking at the bow pinned to his chest. Jas has already been over, stopping everyone and showing it off.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, and she’s glad the stall stands between them, because she knows he would have liked to be much closer than this.

“Glad you took the hint.”

“Is the freak gang that entertaining, little girl?”

There he goes again, with his horrible nicknames and that shit-eating grin. She hopes he’d choke on all the bullshit he’s spewing, some day.

“Yes.”

She sounds firm, serious and soft at the same time. There’s a small smile on her lips as well, and probably it’s that combination that makes Shane realize she’s entirely truthful. So, he laughs. For sure, he must find her stupid and foolish, and yet she only feels relieved as he watches him walk away, shaking his head like he’s disappointed.

As evening approaches, Sebastian stops by her stall. It’s almost empty now, most of her products sold earlier in the day. He sits next to her, smoking, looking at Sam winning the big prize at darts for Penny. She all but swoons.

Sebastian gets up, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it.

“Do you want to walk around?”

She nods, he helps her up. She asks Pierre to watch over the rest of her stuff, and when they move from stall to stall, her and Sebastian are so close that their shoulder almost touch, though none moves to put more space between them. She keeps stealing glances at him, as he explains to her about his favourite stalls, and how it used to look like back in his childhood.

They eat Gus’ famous burgers, and her heart almost stops beating when he leans closer, pressing a tissue to the corner of her mouth. He starts by looking her in the eye, but then her own eyes drop to the flutter of his eyelids, the curve of his nose, eventually settling on the plumpness of his lips – and his gaze follows suit, tracing the same path on her face. They sit in silence, staring at each other, until Gus’ boisterous laugh makes them both startle.

She mumbles her thanks, looking at her plate, too afraid to look at Sebastian.

They play darts too, though she only manages to hit the target only once, and only on its furthest ring.

“Sam rigged this game, didn’t he?” she asks, which makes him smile.

Sebastian pays for his turn, raises his eyebrows at her when she’s expectantly watching him. He throws the first dart while still looking at her, and it hits bull’s eye. She screams in delight, clapping her hands together.

He moves his hand to the back of his head, embarrassed at her reaction, even if he so desperately wanted it in the first place. He asks her if she wants any of the prizes, but she shakes her head. As cheesy as it might be, for her it’s enough that she can enjoy the fair, and that she can do it alongside him.

 ***

When she counts her savings the next day, it’s not as much as she would have liked. So she starts going to the mine again, because she can sell well everything that she finds in there, and for a couple of weeks, it works out just fine. Until it doesn’t anymore.

She knows the place is old, but the crack of the stair giving way under her weight was not an expected problem. The lurking animals and the unmapped areas, sure. But not the wooden step of the stairs.

It takes her by surprise, and she doesn’t have fast enough reflexes to find another footing, so she falls all the distance to the ground. She lands on her side, and there’s a terrible crack in the shoulder that makes getting up so, so painful afterwards. She’s bleeding heavily from one of her knees as well, and several bruises are already blooming on her legs and arms.

Her flashlight also went out on impact, so at first she is disoriented, her head booming with the sound of her fall. Then she gets scared, her heartbeat in her throat, and before she can even think more of her wounds, she forces herself to count up to 100, as slowly as she can, bringing her breathing back to normal, forcing her body to refuse the incoming panic attack just yet.

No one knows she’s in the mine right now, so technically even if they were to notice her disappearance, it will take a while until they find her. And it was already dark outside, judging from the last time she looked at her watch, which makes searching for her unsafe until at least tomorrow morning. She can’t just stay here and wait for someone to find her, even if that is all that she truly wants to do.

She winces when she finally raises to her feet. She’s unstable and everything hurts, but she’s most worried about her arm. She tried to pick up her discarded flashlight, but the movement hurt so much she left out an agonized wail.

Tears start biting at her eyes when she bumps into the stairs, after fumbling through the dark for it. She tries not to think of all the steps until the surface, and then her walk back home – and instead tries to take it one step at a time. She can support her weight only on one arm, and her legs hurt each time she raises them, the skin at her knee ripping open a bit more with each move of her leg up. She takes it one at a time, stops often to breathe deeply, give some part of her body some respite. She struggles even more when she finally gets to the broken stair, and she has to cover twice the distance.

When she eventually collapses on the ground at the entrance to the cave, she can smell the fresh night air, and she can hear the rustling of the leaves, and she starts crying. Somewhere down there, where the mine caved in, trapping workers under the stones and dirt and in unending hallways, is the body of her uncle. Of course, she could have easily shared the same fate today, if she would have been a bit higher, if she would have fallen on one of the sharp stones littering the lower floors instead.

She forces herself, again, to just breathe. But even as she makes herself stand up and walk the long way home, her mind is drifting further and further away, the pain now more dulled at the edge.

That’s why she doesn’t catches when someone calls out her name, doesn’t realize she’s not alone anymore until said person catches her arm to make her stop. Unfortunately, it is her hurt arm, and she shrieks, tears pooling at her eyes, as she’s stumbling away.

Sebastian stares at her, mouth agape, looking like he’s just seen a ghost. He moves his eyes over her body, taking in her state, though he’s unsure in some spots, if the stains on her clothes are blood or dirt.

“Shit, you need to see a doctor,” he says, moving closer again, but she flinches upon his approach.

He passes a frustrated hand through his hair. Dumbly, she wonders what he is doing out here, by the river, in the middle of the night.

“Can I touch you?” he asks. He’s still keeping his distance, though he’s looking at her in a strange way, like she’ll fall off her feet at any moment. Although she nods, this time more aware, more in tune with her surrounding, this time around he approaches more slowly, careful with his movements.

She leans onto him, sighing in relief.

“This will hurt,” he says, and before she has time to think about it, he gathers her in his arms, head at the crook of his neck, her good arm around his shoulder, as he starts carrying her. She just whimpers pathetically, at his chest, blushing furiously and trying not to overthink the gesture, or her weight, or the fact that they’re stopping in front of Harvey’s clinic at fuck knows what time.

Harvey answers on the second knock, looks at the state she’s in and simply mumbles I need my coffee, allowing them inside. Sebastian is still carrying her the flights of stairs up, before finally setting her down on a bed. He’s breathing hard by now, but he’s not complaining. In the light, she can see how wild and panicked his eyes are, how deep his frown is as he searches her body for wounds.

Now that they can see, her shoulder is at a weird angle.

“I’ll have to set it back,” Harvey says, sipping loudly from a fresh cup of coffee, sitting on a chair next to her bed. He looks up at Sebastian, checks the time on his wrist watch. “You can go if you want to.”

“I’ll stay,” he replies almost immediately, making her shiver on the bed, a movement that both men catch. “If that’s okay with you.”

She nods, pleading with Harvey to let him stay, to which he agrees. His job is not made any more difficult, since Sebastian looks perfectly healthy, the weird sleep schedule aside. She doesn’t notice when Sebastian moves, shifts so he can sit next to her on the bed, wrapping his fingers around hers.

Harvey descends like a shadow above her, snapping her bones back in place. She squeezes Sebastian’s hand in her good one, so hard that his bones crack, her fingers digging in his skin until they draw blood. But she only inhales sharply, letting out a string of soft curses, teeth grinding together in pain. When she looks at them, she feels only betrayed, because they both clearly knew what was to come, and did their best to make it as fast as possible.

Harvey hands her a glass of water and some painkillers, and only then does she realize she’s still holding onto Sebastian’s hand. She lets go slowly, smiling at him, patting his hand in silent thanks, though Sebastian cannot smile back at her.

“So what happened?” Harvey asks, moving on to cutting open the leg of her pants, cleaning up the cuts, disinfecting her wounds.

She speaks, evenly, though her panic shows through in some parts, and Sebastian rubs calming circles on her back with his palm. She leans into his touch, swaying in place, eyes fluttering closed, opening them again at a slower and slower pace.

“You should sleep here tonight, so I can monitor your condition,” Harvey says, and Sebastian rises, helping her lay down on the bed, covering her with the blanket, as she’s already fallen asleep.

The two men move downstairs in silence. The clock on the wall shows 4 a.m.

 ***

She wakes to Granny knitting on a chair next to her bed. It’s such an odd image that it takes her a while to recall all the events of the night before. Then, she startles upright.

“Easy, darling, all’s good,” Granny says, though she didn’t even look up at the younger woman.

She learns that Marnie visited her farm earlier, feeding her animals. Abigail took Max to her place, Penny came by with pie. And Sebastian is downstairs, on his 3rd coffee of the day, not having gone home since he first dropped her at the clinic.

Granny smiles to herself when the patient looks longingly at the door, her skin on fire.

 ***

Harvey keeps her for one more night, though she is feeling alright, and she insists so to everyone coming around to check on her. She thought Robin will pick her up, something that she agreed to after much pestering from the woman, but instead the one waiting for her in front of the clinic, leaning on Robin’s truck, is Sebastian.

“Mom had something come up,” he says, moving to get her backpack, filled with the stuff from the mine and some clothes that Abigail picked for her. He opens the truck’s door for her.

“I could have just walked,” she says, though her leg is still stiff.

He shuts the door on her, and until he joins her in, she has time to mull over what exactly she wants to say.

“Thank you,” she beings. “For everything and I’m sorry.”

She fidgets on the spot, as he starts the engine and begins driving.

“Why are you apologizing?” his voice is soft, the corner of his mouth tilted up just the tiniest bit.

“For all the trouble?”

It sounds more like a question,

“You know I’d gladly be troubled for you.”

She does not know that, in fact. She turns to look out the window, at the stretch of trees on the road to her farm, and she wonders when she became such a person to others.

When they arrive, she invites him in, but he politely refuses. She needs to rest. But he does walk back to the car, fiddling with the gloves compartment, coming back with something in his arms. He presents it to her, carefully wrapped, and watches attentively as she opens it, catching her reaction.

In her hands, she has the first volume of what she knows is Sebastian’s favourite comic.

Abigail will tell her, later on, that before he came to pick her up, he drove all the way to Zuzu City so he could pick a copy for her. So on an autumn rainy day, she makes herself a cup of tea, and curls in her bed, opening the book.

She takes her sweet time, searching every detail in the art, rewriting particular quotes in her journal. Then her thoughts fly without her even wanting to, to a particular someone she’d like to have next to her, to explain her favourite parts. She’d like to have him by her side more than that though, as she wakes and works, a person that makes it so much easier for her to just be.

She’s a fool – she tries to tell herself, hugging the book close to her chest. There’s nothing she can offer Sebastian that would make him stay in this village he so obviously loathes. She’s just dumb enough to have fallen for the man she cannot even bring herself to ask to love her back. But the image is now stuck on a loop in her mind: stray sun rays filtering through the curtain, and Sebastian in the door frame, with her mug of coffee in his hands, offering it to her as she wakes.

She tortures herself with thoughts like this afterwards, whenever she finds a moment of respite in her work, as she hurries to sell the last of her crops, to preserve the mushrooms, fill the sill with grains for the animals and the storage outside with wood.

 ***

The first time she gets out of her property after the accident is to attend a dinner on Robin’s birthday. In the town here, it’s not a big deal, so she feels particularly honoured to have the older woman invite her.

However, Robin sends Sebastian to pick her up. She’s on the porch, bundled up in her favourite sweater and a shawl, petting Max, when he pulls up in her courtyard on his motorcycle. He’s wearing a leather jacket, and as he moves to get her helmet, she’s only staring at the way his muscles are straining under the material.

He helps her put it on, clasping it under her chin, his fingers lingering on her skin, and they stare in each other’s eyes for a few long seconds. Then, he holds out a hand, helping her get up, and guides her arms around his waist.

She’s basically glued to his back, and she wonders if he can hear how loudly her heart is beating. He tightens his hold against her arms, signalling that she should hold on tighter, and she does, even though she closes her eyes to will the embarrassment away.

Robin welcomes her with an enthusiastic hug, and she’s delighted to see Abigail has been invited as well, and she’s now sitting next to Maru at the table, discussing something with Demetrius. She’s sent her present in the mail earlier this day, more goat cheese and a few quartz pieces, and the redhead thanks her happily.

When she passes Sebastian on the hallway, she stops for a few seconds to thank him for the ride, warmly clasping his hand in hers. Then just as quickly she lets go, joins everyone else in the kitchen.

Most of the conversation is just the parents dotting on the newly formed couple, though there is a passing comment of the pumpkin soup currently served being Sebastian’s favourite food, so she makes a note to ask the recipe from Robin the next day. There’s an anecdote about how Demetrius and Robin first met, though it makes both their children cringe at how young and lovesick they still sound recalling it. Abigail talks about her studies, Maru continues, though their degrees are vastly different.

The farmer turns to look at Sebastian.

“What about your work?”

The conversation stills, a bit awkward. No one ever asks what Sebastian is doing, since freelancing is such a grey area in their mind – though they fail to see that almost everyone in this town is the goddamn owner of their own work.

“Well,” he starts, playing with the food on his plate. “Actually I’ve got a promotion recently and a really big project coming up.”

She clasps her hands together, beaming up at him.

“That’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

Everyone at the table nods politely, Robin even congratulation her son. But he thinks of her question, and lately the answer seems to be no, because each of his successes brings him closer to leaving Pelican Town, and he’s not sure he wants to anymore.

 ***

By the end of the evening, everyone is more or less tipsy, made soft by the drink and the warmth of the house. Robin insists that she should sleep over, afraid to let her return home this late. She almost puts Sebastian and Maru in one room, but the daughter refuses so vehemently, that Sebastian instead just tells her he’ll take the couch. Their mother stares for a long time after both of her children, as each turns to their guest, and instead decides to retire for the night, together with Demetrius.

That’s how she ends up sitting on Sebastian’s bed, as he’s searching for a towel and some clothes for her.

“Maru is leaving next spring for a research program,” he explains. “That’s why-”

“She wants to make the most out of it,” she continues.

“Yeah.”

He understands the feeling; it’s why he’s more often than not out of his house these days, afraid that one day he’ll have to root himself out of this place, and he will leave many things behind to regret. And many people he will miss.

He throws the clothes in her direction, points her to the direction of the bathroom.

She’s feeling more awake after the shower, and she’s drying her hair with a towel as she enters his room again. She wears one of his hoodies, but on her it looks almost like a dress, coming down halfway to her knees, sleeves rolled several times over. The sweatpants are equally as large.

“I like your socks,” she says, wiggling her toes, an ugly, green gooey face dancing with the movement.

She’s way too freakin cute, Sebastian thinks, though he only smiles at her as he passes her to go and take a shower. When he returns, she’s snuggled in his bed, a comic book in hands, the sequel to the present he’s given her before. She doesn’t hear him come in until he plops on the couch, and then she looks up at him, cheeks immediately flushing.

“Aren’t you cold?”

He’s wearing a tank top, loose enough around the chest area that she can see his collarbones. She knows she’s staring, yet she can’t tear her eyes away from the skin of his arms, or the taut stretch of his top against his chest. When eventually, finally, she moves her gaze up to his face, he’s smirking, clearly having caught her in the act.

“I never get cold,” he replies, shrugging, though he tenses the muscles on his arm, and her gaze immediately snaps back there.

He’s outright laughing right now, which makes her turn her back to him, pulling the blanket over her entire body and mumble an embarrassed good night.

But she has a very, very hard time falling asleep.

 ***

“I don’t wanna go,” she whines at Sam, pulling at his clothes, dragging him away from the maze.

He just laughs, tugging her harder instead. His little brother scared her as soon as she arrived for Spirit’s Eve, and since then she refused to leave his side, on edge all the time.

The town is decorated in skulls and supersized spiders, and Abigail took to walking around with a witch hat on and a sword in her hands, which everyone agreed was cool but also relatively worrisome.

She swears, loudly, clinging even closer to Sam’s arm, when Sebastian joins them, carrying two glasses of punch. He chuckles, but still passes one of them to her.

“You don’t celebrate Spirit’s Eve in the city?”

“Well,” she says, taking a large gulp of her drink. “There it’s more about getting shit-faced in a club, and less about your heart going for a run when you turn the corner of the street.”

“Amen, sister,” Sam yells, grabbing her glass and downing it all in one go.

“Hey!” She punches his shoulder.

“It made you laugh though!” he says, leaving so he can get her a refill, and well, he’s not wrong, because now she feels way more at ease than before.

Sebastian shifts closer to her, for which she is grateful.

“Is it really that bad?”

“I just hate jump scares,” she whines, again. “And I’m sure the maze is filled with them.”

“You know you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, right? We can just sit on a bench and watch the skeletons.”

“We?”

He’s pressing his palm to his neck. “Well I’ve cleared the maze every year, so.”

So they sit, together.

 ***

Back in the city, she can never tell when it will snow anyway – but here in town, the air is crisp and cold for days before. Robin shows up one early winter morning, and helps her isolate the house as much as possible, around the windows and the doors, so that no cold seeps in, so that all the warmth stays. She might need to renovate the house next year, but for now, it will have to be enough.

Robin sips at the coffee she’s been offered, and pretends not to see Sebastian’s books sprawled all around the farmer’s house, on the kitchen counter, on the bed, next to the TV. She also equally doesn’t comment on one of Sebastian’s jackets hanging on the back of the chair that the young girl is currently occupying. Robin takes another sip, and smiles in her cup.

Back in the city, when it snows, it never piles; part car fumes, part all the people walking around doing their business. But here in the town, when she wakes up one morning, all she can see around her house is a wide expanse of whiteness. Max runs past her, jumps into the snow, comes back in so wet but so happy, that she doesn’t mind having to towel him near the fire from the fireplace.

But she’s left with too much time on her hands; she watches Queen of Sauce almost obsessively, following along in her own kitchen, surprised when her food is actually good. She starts knitting, phoning Granny each time she stumbles through a row. She reads, almost obsessively. And she does go to the mines, but for shorter periods now, scared of not repeating her injury, even if the Adventurer’s Guild repaired the broken stairs.

Then Sam calls her over one day and welcomes her to the world of DnD, him and Sebastian more or less forcing everyone else to start a new campaign with them. It’s the happiest she’s seen them both, so she tries to keep up with the characters, stops to ask about plot holes. They explain things in tandem, finishing each other’s sentences, for almost an entire hour, because you see, this race can’t have this magical power. Sam pulls out his guide, passing it around so that everyone can look up the kind of character they want to create.

That first evening together, that’s all they do in fact: filling stat sheets, searching reference pictures on the internet. And they eat Jodi’s delicious snacks, gossip a bit about Marnie and mayor Lewis’ affair, that the whole town knows about but somehow only the two of them missed this detail.

They turn it into a weekly meeting, rotating their meeting place through all their houses, sometimes the Stardrop Saloon in the days when they know it’ll be more empty and calm. They fight imaginary battles, Sam’s voice guiding them through cities and enemies and friends, saving each other’s asses and forging alliances. It’s the best fun she’s had since arriving in the town, though if anyone were to tell her this a year ago, she would have laughed directly into their faces.

They break the tradition only once, when instead they decide to go ice-skating. Each winter, if the temperatures are low enough, the lake freezes, making it a perfect rink. To be fair, it’s her favourite sport – probably only sport that she’s so excited to do, that she jumps on the spot as she waits for her turn to lend a pair of skates.

She’s looking a bit ridiculous, wearing 3 different layers and one of her grandpa’s padded vests, a beanie on top of her head. Sebastian finds her just really cute. She skates around holding one of Maru’s hands, Abigail the other – because she’s the only one who doesn’t really know how to do it.

Then Sam starts a game of tag with Jas. So they start chasing each other around, yelling when they’re caught only to start again. Penny almost trips, but Sam’s catches her hand and stabilizes her, even if he’s it now. Abigail and Maru skate around holding hands, working more like one person than two separate ones, though Abigail lets go only when it’s her turn to chase someone; and she’s fast as a flash, her turn over in under a minute.

She touches the farmer’s back, and she’s left in the middle of the frozen lake, trying to think who to go after. Her intention is to go after Vincent, his voice shrill with happiness when he realizes he has to run away from her, but her skates catch in the ice.

She only has time to gasp out a swearword, preparing to fall flat on her face. But there’s an arm around her waist, though the angle is awkward and her weight too heavy, so both of them fall to the ground.

She blinks, trying to make sense of the new position. She didn’t hit the cold ice, instead Sebastian’s body cushioned her fall. She’s on top of him, hands on either side of his head, and she’s staring into his eyes. She’s so close that she can feel his chest heaving.

“You good?” he asks, a hand moving to settle around her waist.

It snaps her out of it. “Shit, I’m the one who should be asking that.”

She’s trying to get up, though she’s embarrassed and fumbling, and her first movement just positions her ass on Sebastian’s thighs and crotch area. He shudders, inhaling loudly – and she can feel him stir under her.

“Oh,” is all that she can say, eyes blown wide catching his. Though there’s something more there: curiosity, and a growing interest.

“You guys okay?!” Sam’s voice is distant to her ears, though she waves a hand in the air, to both show that they’re okay and ask for a break from their game. Sebastian says nothing, looking up at her like a man found guilty of murder, face flushed, though he hasn’t moved his hand from her waist.

She grinds her hips, pushing harder against Sebastian’s body, watching in fascination as he’s squeezing his eyes shut, a frown on his forehead.

“Stop,” he says, sounding wound up and chocked.

So she does, rolling from on top of him, pulling herself to her feet, smiling when offering him a hand up. Though he’s not smiling back, he takes her hand.

***

“Happy birthday!” she shouts, when Sebastian opens the door to his bedroom, holding up her present to him.

Behind him, music plays loudly, and she can see Sam and Abigail arguing about who gets the last slice of pizza. She’s the last to arrive, but that’s also partially because outside there’s a real blizzard. Penny comes to hug her in greeting, and she high-fives Sam. Most of the time, they just drink and joke around, chatting about random things, his oldest friends telling tales of Sebastian.

After a couple of hours, Sebastian catches her eyes, motions towards the outside. Sam has given up smoking, being more of a social smoker, just like her. But since he got together with Penny, a fact to which they finally admitted after merciless teasing from Abigail, he quit.

They stop in the hallway, putting on their coats – and she hands him the present again, though he hasn’t noticed her coming up with it.

“You might find useful what’s in here.”

So he opens it to find a matching hat and scarf, in a dark navy. They’re clearly handmade, and handmade by her he suspects – and he’s touched by the time and care she had to put in her gift. Nestled between the material, there’s also a frozen tear.

“God, I-I love this. Thank you.”

She beams at him, obviously relieved. He puts the frozen tear carefully in the pocket of his jacket. She helps him with the scarf and the beanie, her hands lingering on his shoulder for a second afterwards, admiring him.

Outside, in the courtyard corner where they’re smoking, there’s a snowman. Sebastian almost feels like kicking it when she mentions in passing that it’s cute.

“I built a snowgoon but Demetrius made me get rid of it, yet Maru’s cute little snowman still stands…”

He didn’t mean to sound this bitter. She shifts, coming in closer, taking his empty hand in hers.

“If I just disappeared, would it even matter?”

He means it like a rhetorical question, just for himself – but she’s strengthening her grip on him, forcing him to look at her. She wants him to understand that she’s entirely serious.

“It would matter to me.”

 ***

It’s drizzling, a mix of snow and rain, weather suddenly warming up. On the beach, anyway, snow never piles up, and when Sebastian turns around, he finds her standing a few feet away, staring out into the sea. She is drenched, shivering lightly with each gust of wind, and now that her concentration has been snapped by his movement, she’s staring at him instead.

He gestures her closer, and she stops by his side. Now, closer, he can see that she’s shivering more violently than he initially though, and she’s certainly not dressed properly for the weather.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks, softly, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. She closes her eyes, head leaning toward his touch, and he finds himself cupping her cheek without thinking too much about it.

“What are you doing out here?” she counters, blinking up at him.

Maybe it’s the absolutely pathetic state that both of them are into that makes him answer honestly to the question. Or maybe it’s the fact that it’s her.

“Looking out at the bleak horizon… It makes me feel like it’s worthwhile to keep pushing on.”

He shrugs, trying not to look as serious as his statement. Lately, he’s been having more reasons to believe that same thing, but old habits die hard, and there’s a particular calmness in being somewhere where no one else is. Or, he thinks, looking down at her, almost no one.

“I just like the sea,” she says, and any awkwardness that he still felt dissipates with her admission. The water is raging, stirred on by the storm, crashing violently against the pier, and they stand in silence, his hands carefully petting her hair, pulling her closer when she shivers again.

“Fuck, do you want to catch your death?”

He undresses quickly, placing his jacket over her shoulders. It doesn’t make much of a difference, but it’s more waterproof than what she’s wearing, and also carrying his warmth. He pops open the umbrella he’s carrying, and with an arm around her shoulder, pulls her to his chest.

“You know,” he starts, his palm rubbing circles on her back. “I would normally feel anxious doing this with anyone. But somehow, you’re the exception.”

Her head turns, chin resting on his chest so she can look up at him.

“I want to kiss you,” she says, and Sebastian chokes on whatever he wanted to say before. “Can I?”

She’s on her tiptoes now, her lips so close to his that their breathes are mingling, yet she’s giving him the choice of covering the remaining distance. Which he does, hungrily, almost desperate for it, both hands cupping her cheeks as their mouths clash. The umbrella falls into the water, and yet they don’t care enough to notice it.

They stop for a moment, coming up for air, and then they’re back at it, and despite the fire growing at the pit of her stomach, the kiss is languid, exploring, tongue pressing against tongue. Slight movement, a change in their position to deepen the kiss, her fingers now playing in the hair at the nape of his neck, his hands at her waist.

He kisses her like he never kissed somebody else, and went hungry for it all this time. His fingers move under her sweater, and the sudden cold touch makes her break apart. His touch turns comforting, pressing against her skin, and she sighs. Their foreheads meet.

“Fuck, I wanted to do that for so long,” he breathes and she laughs.

“We are two idiots, right?”

“Big idiots,” he nods, and she takes his hand in hers, starts pulling him in the direction of her house.

 ***

She starts the fire in the house, as he’s slowly undressing layer after layer. In the bathroom, the bathtub is filled with hot water, waiting for him. He’s down to a t-shirt and his boxers when he cups her elbow in his hand.

“Join me?” he asks, voice a bit strained, but firm.

She can only nod, dazed, not trusting that this is not just a dream, afraid that speaking will ruin the moment. He sits down on the edge of the tub, gesturing for her to come closer. She’s standing in front of him, and he’s gentle in guiding her out of her clothes, letting them drop to the floor. He strays from his purpose sometime, to press a kiss against her hip, or at the tip of her fingertips.

When she eventually ends up stark naked, his eyes are hungry, but his touch not, as he guides her inside the hot tub. She sighs in pleasure, closing her eyes. She opens them again when she hears the rustling of clothes, to watch him undress. He’s a bit slow, a bit shy, joining her inside the tub. The water almost spills over. She tries not to think of his cock, the precum leaking. She tries to ignore the uncomfortable heat growing between her legs.

She helps him shampoo his hair, he washes her back. They go off track from time to time, kissing lazingly for a long time, his hands massaging her breasts, her teeth grazing his neck. Until she moans, a loud sound. Until he gasps, her name caught between his lips.

Then, with ease, he helps her out. They share one, large towel, huddling together until they reach her bedroom, giggling like children. They’re almost to the bed when he stops, looks at her.

“We don’t have to do anything.”

He’s a liar, because his cock is pulsing with want and she can feel him against her hip. She pouts.

“But I want you.”

He kisses her pout away, pushes at her shoulder until she falls to the bed with a yelp, hands wrapping against him, taking him down with her. She’s laughing, pleased with having him on top of her, when his mouth moves downwards on her body, kissing against her collarbones, sucking at the skin, biting at the skin, until there’s a dark mark behind. He throws her a pleased grin, moving lower yet again.

Sebastian takes one of her nipples in his mouth, a hand moving up to tease the other. Her hands immediately wrap in his hair and she gasps. He pulls at the sensitive area, with his teeth and his fingers, licking it better immediately afterwards, and she writhes under him. He kisses his path downwards, though his lips kiss at her hips, he bites at her thighs, always circling around where she most wants him.

“Seb,” she whines. “Please.”

He stops his ministrations to look at her, frowning and pouting, hair dishevelled against her pillows, her body flushed all over, his marks so obvious against her skin. He feels himself growing at the sight, though he smirks at her.

“Please what?”

She blushes.

“Please eat me out?”

It sounds like a plead and a question and a prayer and a command all at once, and he’s on her in the blink of an eye, tongue lapping at her folds. Her back arches, but his hands are keeping her in place – and he maintains a constant, slow rhythm.

Until he doesn’t, one of his fingers entering her in full, with ease. Sebastian chuckles.

“You’re so wet, baby.”

Her walls squeeze at the nickname. He adds another finger; watches, transfixed, as it disappears inside with the same ease. He starts pumping them inside her, and the sound of her wet pussy taking it all in is so hot, that he groans.

Buried down in her to the knuckles, he opens his fingers apart. She moans, pushing down, searching for more, more, more. He scissors her, spreading her wide – and his head moves lower yet again, lips kissing against her clit at first.

Then, he adds a third finger. He can feel her stiffen under him, so he pulls her clit in his mouth, rolling his tongue around it, just as he starts pumping his fingers inside her. Now her hands are holding on to her sheets, and she’s mumbling some curses, halfway lost to her pleasure, moans louder and louder as he speeds up.

He raises his head just for a second, to chuckle against her heated pussy.

“Come, baby.”

So she does, and he continue pumping inside of her, letting her ride her orgasm. She still sighs when he pulls out his fingers, immediately missing the feeling of being filled up with him. He moves to pepper her face with kisses, petting at her now sweated forehead.

“You did so well, baby.”

He’s teasing her, knowing how much she likes the nickname. So instead she looks down between their bodies, his cock against his navel, leaking – and looking like the most beautiful dick she has ever seen in her life. It’s not the biggest one she’s seen, but he’s thick and she’s never wanted to taste something more than the cum that’d spill out of it.

Still staring, she moves her hands to grab it, her fingers dancing over it, starting with his leaking tip, spreading his precum all over his length, before stopping with a slight squeeze at its base. Sebastian shivers over her, eyes closed, mouth open in an unspoken prayer, because he’s not sure even god can help him now.

Holding his dick in her hands, she helps him adjust at her entrance. At first, he teases against her cunt, pressing his cock between her folds, rocking his hips back and forth as they both moan in tandem. She’s already dripping over the sheets again.

He grabs at her hand, fingers entwined.

“You ready?”

“For that dick? Born ready,” she says, chuckling, but not moving her eyes away from where he’s starting to push inside her.

“Fuuck,” he says, just as she moans, only the tip in. The stretch is painful, but so fucking delicious and she’s a blabbering mess begging for more, pulling him closer with her free arm. He slams inside her, forcing the rest of his length inside in one go, and she swears. He kisses at her eyebrows, at the tip of her nose, apologizing softly.

“Tell me when to move again,” he says, and true to his words, he seems content to just kiss her, tongue at her neck, words whispered and lost in her hair, but making her shiver nonetheless just because there’s the hot breath so close to her skin. She’s trying to adjust to his entirety of him inside her, not hurtful but not entirely comfortable just yet either, and his mouth now licking at her hypersensitive nipple seems to slowly do the trick.

“Move,” she says, and he does.

He’s slow at first, almost frustratingly so, pulling out almost entirely, before slowly filling her up again. She moans, drawn out sounds, with each movement – and she almost doesn’t notice when the speed picks up, when she starts moving her hips to meet his actions. They’re a mess of grunts and moans, gasps and swears – and he squeezes so hard at her hip when she comes again, the orgasm washing over her with an intensity that it’s almost blinding, that she’s sure he’ll leave bruises.

Sebastian looks like a man in pain, inside her as she’s coming back to herself after the orgasm. She kisses his cheek, hands rubbing against his chest muscles.

“Do you want to cum all over me?”

He almost trips with the haste that he’s pulling out of her. She’s waiting, on her back, tongue lolling out of her mouth. Sebastian rises on his knees – it’s embarrassing that he only needs two more pumps to come. Most of it falls on her tits and neck, though she’s happily licking every bit that she can reach with her tongue, swallowing it all like a good girl.

“Fuck,” Sebastian says, falling next to her on the bed. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

She beams at him, getting closer. They kiss for a while, bored and tired and messy, teeth clanking together, tongue at the corner of the mouth. There’s a string of saliva between their lips when they separate.

She gets up, goes to the toilet, returns all cleaned up, before coming back to the warmth of the bed, dragging the covers over both of them. Sure, the sheets are dirty, but that’s a problem for her future self, because right now, all she wants to do is snuggle at Sebastian’s back, an arm draped over his waist. So that’s what she does.

 ***

When they wake, they fuck on the kitchen counter, the angle hitting her just right. Truthfully, half of her butt is in the air, her legs wrapped around Sebastian’s torso, as he snaps his hips up in her, deeper and deeper each time. She’s never been so glad she doesn’t have neighbours in her entire life. Maybe because it’s been so long on her part, or because Sebastian is really just that good, she’s loud – and she loves to feel him stirring inside her, with each of her moans and praises.

“So good,” she gasps, fingers digging almost painfully in his back, and he proves his point by ramming into her, ripping a sob of pleasure out of her.

He’s wearing a condom this time around, so there is no mess to clean up, and they drink their coffee afterwards – talking about this and that, not even skimming the topic of what they’re doing, or why.

He kisses her goodbye though.

And on Winter Star, while she’s getting ready for the feast with everyone else, Sebastian comes by. He welcomes him warmly, and he sits on the side of her bed, watching her finish her make-up and doing her hair, and though he doesn’t move, she keeps catching his eyes in the mirror, looking at her every movement hungrily.

“We’re not fucking after all this effort I just put in,” she says, pointedly plucking her lips and applying a bright, red lipstick.

“I want to take you out on a date,” he says, ignoring her childish theatrics, but shaking his head with a soft smile.

“Sure.”

She tries to sound nonchalant, but her heart is beating in her chest. As much as she’d like to have him bend her over the table and take her like a bitch in heat, she’d much prefer him being her boyfriend while he does so.

“Good, let’s go then.”

“Now?” she yelps, when he grabs her hand and walks her towards the entrance.

“Now,” he says. He helps her putting on her beret, she straightens the scarf around his neck. “I’ve already called Sam and told him we won’t make it to the feast.”

“You did? What did he say?”

“To have condoms on me,” Sebastian says, face serious, which is why it makes her snort.

“And?” she’s wiggling her eyebrows at him. “Do you?”

He slaps her butt as she’s getting out instead of a reply. She turns at him, the slightest darkness in her eyes.

They go for a ride, promise not forgotten. They drive for a long time, and when they finally reach their destination, he tells her to keep her eyes closed, keeps his palms against her eyes as he guides her steps.

When he moves his hands away, she gasps. Spread ahead of her, the lights of Zuzu City against the usual darkness of the night. Sebastian moves next to her, grabs her hand in his.

“I come here when I want to get away from everything and just… think.”

He’s been doing this a lot lately, ever since she came to the valley, became his friend. Torn between his dreams of the city and the familiarity of home, he came here often thinking about what he should do.

He’s fumbling with his cigarettes, before eventually lightning one. Leaning against his motorcycle, she’s still looking out at the landscape in front of them.

“It gives such a strange, sad feeling…”

She’s almost saying it to herself. She doesn’t understand why he is showing this to her, and she can only think of how much he wants to be a part of those lights shining in the distance. She knows, if he is to walk that path, there’s nothing she will do to stop him.

Sebastian gets close to her, slings an arm around her shoulder. His gaze is still fixed to the city out in the distance, but when he speaks, it’s all just for her.

“The city used to draw me in… but now I’m finding myself happier at home in the valley.”

Her head snaps up so fast that it almost hurts. She doesn’t trust herself to say anything, afraid she’s overstepping, afraid she actually misunderstands whatever is going on, afraid to hope too much.

He turns to her, knuckles slowly caressing her cheek.

“You’re the only one I ever brought to this place. You know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?”

She shakes her head; wants to hear it. He leans down, pulling her close with his other arm, covering her sound of surprise with his mouth, kissing her. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to his kisses; he’s a passionate but patient kisser, drawing out the movements for as long as possible, biting and licking at her lips, smiling smugly and lazily at her when he is done.

“I want us to be together. For real.”

She jumps in his arms, the move making him stumble a bit, but they’re not falling. She looks in his eyes, the gaze as touching and passionate as it’s ever been.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“Wha-”

But she kisses him.

 *** 

She’s obsessed with saying those three words. Now that she has the right to say it, it blooms out of her at his every gesture. She says it out loud without embarrassment or care as to whoever else can hear it. She says it as good morning and as good bye. She says it when he stays the night, and when he asks her over to play a new game together. She says it in front of Maru and mayor Lewis. She says it when he comes inside of her. She says it when he lets her borrow his sweater. She says it when he calls her in the evening after work.

It makes him dizzy with how wanted she makes him feel.

It’s the middle of the night and they’re waiting, alongside everyone else from the city, for the clock to strike exactly 12, and the fireworks to blast into the sky. She’s holding onto his arm, chatting happily with Sam about a cover song they’re planning. Her weight, next to him, is something new to get used to – but she’s always fitting herself right there with so much ease, that it seems almost natural.

The countdown begins, mayor Lewis’ voice booming across the square. At 8, she joins in. At 3, he does too. The fireworks blast with a loud noise, and she squeezes herself closer to him, her eyes to the colouring sky, her lips to his ear.

“Make a wish, babe.”

She closes her eyes, thinking of everything she wants in the upcoming year. He looks at her.

“So, what did you wish for?” he asks.

She tugs at his jacket, kisses him.

“You.”

[originofjaehyun]

Constantly, Consistently, Continually, You. | Prologue

CCCY Masterlist

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings: None just hoping you guys would like it ha-ha

Prologue – She is stillness in the world of chaos

“We never had to force love. We were drowning in it the moment we met.”

Next

There’s no other sound except the sound of your pencil scratching the paper. Messy is an understatement if someone were to see your table. Pencil and pens, markers, fabric samples, are just a few of the things that are visible in a glance. You’ve been sitting on your desk for hours now and the clock on your laptop has shown you that it is a little bit past 10 PM. Before you knew it, you’ve been doodling instead of being productive.

You know the reason, your neighbor who happens to be a NEET has been playing whatever online game since yesterday and he’s still going strong. The walls between your unit are quite thin and you could hear him ferociously screaming “MONSTERS ON YOUR LEFT! MONSTER ON YOUR LEFT!!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

You had enough. You barely get any sleep and sleeping has been a struggle because of your neighbor. You don’t even know how he was able to pay the rent when all he did was to play games all day long.

“I need to go somewhere.”

All you wished were to lay down on your bed, still with the messy duvet because you really don’t have the energy to even make up your bed. But ever since you were hired as a fashion designer at 0MILE – one of the hippest Korean fashion brands – you were so busy at work especially when you entered the company during the preparation for Seoul Fashion Week. You really have to make more progress on your work and your neighbor is definitely not helping.

You packed all the necessary stuff on your tote bag and tied your hair into a top bun. You can’t be bothered with contacts at this hour so you grabbed your glasses, wear your black jumper while pairing it with a cozy black track pant before exiting your apartment.

You feel refreshed as the night breeze slowly dances around you. It’s been a long while since you live in this neighborhood. The first time you moved here was when you’re just 22. After college, you decided to move here because it’s really close to your first workplace. Now that you’re 25, even if you’re blindfolded, you can probably still press the passcode buttons on your apartment door. This place has grown on you, and while you’re making more money than before, you can’t just move just because of that reason, knowing how expensive the rent cost is in Seoul. You’re saving up for your dream.

Before you know it, you are already in front of the door of a cafe just around the corner. Sun&Moon, as the vintage-looking gold sticker reads on the door’s glass. You’re glad that this small coffee shop in your neighborhood actually opens until late. As you pushed the door open, you can see two male baristas-turned-waiters behind the counter. The cafe is relatively empty, considering it’s almost 11 PM. There are only a couple and a group of four people left in the cafe.

As if you’re on autopilot mode, you took a seat on the corner and put your tote bag there before making your way to the counter to order your coffee. This is your third coffee of the day but you really can’t afford to fall asleep while the deadline is chasing you. 

You actually know what you’re going to order your usual – cafe latte, considering how late it is, plus, having Americano as your third coffee of the day might not be the best idea. But seeing the cakes on display kind of stimulates your appetite. When did you have your last meal, anyway?

Raspberry and Rose Eclair sounds good

Oh, but so does Chocolate Salted Caramel Tart

But having sweets at this hour is a sin, no?

Then a soft velvety voice snapped you back to reality.

“Uhm, miss?”

“Yes!” You answered almost instantly

He chuckled, and the most prominent set of dimples on both of his cheeks appeared.

“Are you ready to order? Or do you need more time browsing our cake?”

You felt both of your cheeks are now slightly warmer. It’s kind of embarrassing because you are so concentrated while you’re looking at the cake display.

“Oh yes please, I’d like to order. Can I have a hot latte? And also…”

“Nonfat milk and make them extra hot, regular size. Is that correct?” He cut you off before you finished your sentence. On top of that, he got your custom order correctly.

You knit your brows together. How did he know my custom order?

“Oh no need to be alarmed,” as if he knows you’re slightly judging him right now and probably think that he’s a stalker or something.

“You happen to be our regular and you’re very specific with your orders. We, the baristas here thought it would be great to start learning our regular’s order, especially the custom ones.”

You soften your facial expression and it instantly curled-up your lips into a smile.

“Why, that’s a very nice gesture.”

He smirks, “So, did I get your order correctly Miss?”

Unconsciously you let out a small giggle, “You bet you do. Congrats on memorizing my recipe.”

“Well, this is nothing. One latte coming up!” He said it in a playful tone.

You gave him your card as the final numbers of your bill appears on the cashier screen. He then gave you the receipt and politely asked you to go back to your seat as the waiter will deliver your order to the table. You turned back to your seat, allowing him to start making your drink while his co-worker is busy washing the dishes.

You checked the receipt after you sat down.

Your cashier: Jaehyun. So that’s his name.

You typically don’t do this, as you find it slightly… odd to be attracted to someone who’s going to prepare your coffee. But the thing is, he undoubtedly one of the most good looking people you’ve seen in a while. His pale skin that paired perfectly with his soft brown hair that he just messily styled, with eyes that are in the color of deep sienna. They glisten with something else, something that gives you shivers and wraps you in a warm embrace at the same time.

What Am I thinking? Focus, [Y/N]!

You took out your laptop and plugged in your charger to the nearest power plug, before connecting the two. You then spread your notebook on the bench, since the table beside you is empty. In a flash, you are already deep inside your own little world.

After a while, you automatically took a sip of your latte.

Wait, when did this arrive?

You lift your head, eyes searching for Jaehyun. He was in the middle of cleaning up the table from the couple before. You then took a glance at the clock on your laptop screen. 

It’s already past midnight. You were so immersed in your work that you didn’t realize the waiter already delivered your order and there’s only you and another group of people left. You kind of regretted it though, that you forgot to say thanks to the waiter. If it’s Jaehyun who delivered it to you, at least you’ll get a chance to hear his voice again.

You brushed off the thoughts and you immediately start working again. As boring as it might sound – that you missed a chance to exchange eye contact with Jaehyun – you really got to finish your work.

The clock keeps ticking and suddenly you could hear a clink of a plate. You lift your head and now your eyes are locked with the delicate pair of brown eyes.

“I didn’t order this.” You said in a confused tone.

“It’s on the house.” As he said while putting a plate of the eclair you stared before.

He continued, “You’ve been working for a few hours now, I thought by now you’ll need some sugar rush. Plus, I know what you’re working for it's probably important and I don’t mean to rush you but we’re closing in about 30 minutes.”

“Oh!” You quickly saw the time. It’s already 1.27 AM.

“Shit, I hope that crazy neighbor is asleep.” You mumbled.

“Sorry?” Jaehyun raised his brows, wanting to confirm what you said.

“Oh, nothing. Well, thank you for this. I’ll eat this and I’ll pack immediately.”

“Please, no need to rush. You are our esteemed guest, after all.” He said this with a smile, turning his eyes into a shape of a half-moon and as if he knows this is his best feature, he showed his pair of dimples.

As he walks away from you, you asked yourself: Is this a cafe or is this a host bar? He is very soft-spoken, and even though you only hear a few sentences from him, you’re already addicted to his tender voice. You wonder why you haven’t noticed this guy previously.

You quickly take a bite on your eclair, you saved your project before closing your laptop while still chewing your food. You’re slightly embarrassed because Jaehyun saw you in this messy state. Your stuff is everywhere, taking spaces even the table next to you as you are the only person in the cafe right now. You quickly shoved everything to your tote bag and frantically carrying some stuff that couldn’t fit inside. How come everything can fit when you go out but now that you’re rushing it felt like your items are multiplied?

“Thank you for tonight. I enjoyed the cake, good night!” You said as you were about to leave the cafe.

“Ah, yes, thank you. Please be careful.” Jaehyun stands up, a bit surprised with your sudden leave. He was reading a book while waiting for you to finish. He was about to approach you but you already turned your back before he’s able to. 

You would never guess that night is where the string of fate started.

***

“Shit, shit, shit!”

You repeated frantically as you scattered the content of your tote bag. You lost one of your fabric samples. This season, 0MILE material revolves around checkered plaid and without the sample, you might not be able to move forward with your design.

You searched throughout your room that looks more like a shipwreck instead of a room, you even search at weird places like the inside of your freezer but the sample is just nowhere to be found. 

“Fuck, I might left it at the cafe yesterday.”

You grabbed your phone and took your bag in a hurry. You’re moving your feet like the flash as you speed up on every turn towards the cafe before you realize it’s only 10 AM and the cafe only opens after lunchtime.

But you can’t afford to lose anymore second as you have already gone more than halfway to the cafe. As you approached the cafe, you saw a familiar figure.

Isn’t that yesterday’s barista?

He looked in your direction as he heard your footsteps. His eyes sparkled before he showed that warm smile moving towards you so that you meet mid-way.

“Uhm, hi, uh, morning… uhm…” You’re busy finding the right sentence.

“Hi, I think you forgot this.” He handed over the fabric sample you’ve been looking for all morning.

“Oh my God!” You excitedly took it from his hand. Realized that you’re probably being rude to him, you quickly apologized to him.

“Uhm, sorry about that. It’s just that I’ve been looking for this all morning.”

“Don’t sweat it. I noticed that this is important as you were always referring to this before registering it to your laptop last night. So when you left it, I thought you might be searching for this first thing in the morning.”

“Wait, so you’ve been waiting for me?” Your eyes widen.

“Well, I would feel bad if you’re waiting in front of our cafe all morning. Also, I was the last one who cleans up the cafe and that is when I found your stuff. I brought it home because today is actually my day off.”

You’re stunned. As you examined his appearance, his eyes are slightly teary, with ears that have turned red due to the cold weather.

“How long have you been waiting?” 

“Uhm, around an hour I guess?” He said like it's not a problem when it actually is. He has been waiting for an hour in cold weather, and as far as you can see there’s no seat available so its either he’s been standing for an hour or he probably squatted. 

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry you have to do that! I mean, it was my mistake to leave my belongings, but you didn’t have to go that far for a stranger.”

He knows that you are panicking because of your tone, but he just chuckled before giving his reply.

“Well, you’re not entirely a stranger.”

“I mean, you are our regular for quite some time now.”

You let out a sigh, “But still, we don’t even know each other. I’m glad I got this back because it is important, but how could I ever repay you?”

Then he gave a devilish smirk, “We can fix that,”

“How about you treat me for brunch today? I didn’t get to eat my breakfast today because I thought you were already waiting at the cafe, but it’s already too late for breakfast now.”

You’re startled. Did he just ask me for a date?

No that can’t be it. He’s just a kind person that happens to be hungry at the moment, that’s all.

You would actually agree to his condition instantly, but then you saw your slippers and you realized how unkempt you are right now. The person standing in front of you is blessed with his look. He’s definitely bare-faced but he looked photoshopped.

“Uhm, how about lunch instead?” You said while fidgeting with your fingers.

“I’m… not exactly confident with how I look right now. Let me fix myself first, then we can go for lunch? I know the best sundubu in this area, it’ll be perfect for this kind of weather.”

“You’re fine the way you are right now, you know?” Your heart almost jumps because of how smooth he is with his words. 

You shook your head, “I promise we’ll meet at lunch. Here, let me give you my number in case I run away. Which, I would never because I always keep my promise.”

He then handed out his phone to you and you added your contact details to him. He then dialed your number and your phone rang, confirming that the number that he’s calling is in fact yours.

“[Y/N].” He said, in a low voice.

“It’s funny, huh? We never introduced ourself and yet I know your name because of sundubu”

Only then you realized you guys never properly introduced yourself to each other.

“I’m Jaehyun, nice to meet you, [Y/N].”

“At least let me introduce myself,” You pouted.

“I’m [Y/N]. It’s also a pleasure meeting you, Jaehyun.” You acted like you don’t know his name when in fact you already know it yesterday.

“Feisty, aren’t you?” He said with one of his eyebrows went up.

You let out a small laugh, “Well, I’ll better get ready.”

“Uhm, so… where do you want to wait? I mean, you can wait at my place if you want.” You said that and instantly your face turned red. Did I just ask him to crash at my place? You literally just know his name a few seconds ago and it almost felt like you invited him to do something dirty at your place as an added bonus for his lunch. He then laughed.

“I’ll be a gentleman today and wait at the cafe.”

“Let’s keep that one for another time.” Jaehyun continues.

Your brow furrows, “Hang on, you had a key all along?”

He answered with a nod.

“Why didn’t you wait inside? It’s cold out here!”

Again, he smiles.

“The cafe owner is slightly stingy, especially with the utility bill. Also, I could see if you’re coming better if I wait outside, so you don’t have to walk too much.”

You can feel the heat on both of your cheeks. He could definitely see you blushing.

Seriously, how sweet could this guy be?

“Well, I’ll see you at lunch. I’ll be fast, let’s meet again here?”

He grinned, “Take your time, [Y/N]. I’m looking forward to it.”

***

“So you’re a fashion designer?” Jaehyun said while he’s busy preparing the cutleries for both of you.

“Wait, how did you…?” You said in a confused tone. Clearly you haven’t told him anything about you.

“Before you’re getting any weird thoughts,” he chuckled, as he might felt like you just labeled him a stalker.

“One, you carry things like that to our cafe. Secondly, I accidentally saw some of your sketches before.”

You’re in awe. How observant.

“And last but not least,” he continues

“You’re always dressed well. Even though there are times when you visit our cafe in the most comfortable outfit, everything is still very pleasant to the eye.”

Your ears started to turn red. 

“Oh you don’t need to flatter me. The meal is still on me.”

He chuckles, “No, I'm serious. You really do have a great sense of style.”

“Well thank you. You’re a charmer as well.”

Then it’s his ears started to turn into a shade of pink. You think to yourself that it is the most adorable thing as he clearly tries to hide it. So he blushes when he’s embarrassed.

The conversation goes you guys started to eat your meals. He told you more about himself, about the reason why he lives alone right now. He said his family lives far away and he moved out because he wanted to live his dreams. He wanted to be a musician, but since he is supporting himself he currently worked in a tech-startup company at day and took part-time jobs like becoming a barista at night. He does music on weekends, sometimes he would compose his own songs, or do a cover and upload them on his SoundCloud. There are days where he would perform at a cafe or a bar, but he said it’s been a while since he last did that ever since his current day job has been so demanding.

Once you guys are full, you settle the bill and Jaehyun politely thank you for the meal. He constantly insisted that he should pay at least half but you really want to show how grateful you are, at least with a meal.

“I guess we can call it even?” You said it to him while tugging your hands to the pocket of your coat.

He smiled, and you still can’t faze at the sight of his dimples. 

“You really don’t have to, you know. But yes, let’s call it even.”

Then an awkward silence came.

“Uhm, I guess I’ll see you when I visit the cafe again?” Fidgeting your fingers, you really hope that he doesn’t notice that you’re nervous. Am I asking him out?

“Sure.” The response was almost immediate and that is when you noticed he’s also feeling nervous. “I’ll see you around. Again, thank you for the meal.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

After sending your greetings, you finally parted ways with him. Not sure where he’s heading, but he walks on the opposite way of where you’re heading. You are lost in your thoughts until you snapped out of it, after walking just two blocks from where you’re coming from. A notification from your phone brings you back to earth.

Jaehyun (Sun&Moon Barista) 01.27

Hey

Jaehyun (Sun&Moon Barista) 01.27

On second thought, I don’t think it’s even yet. I actually waited more than an hour and we only had 30-minutes lunch.

Jaehyun (Sun&Moon Barista) 01.27

Care for a coffee? I’m still around the area.

You felt the heat start to rise to your face as the color of your cheeks starts to turn into a rosy-pink shade. If this were your room, you would scream your lungs out.

You quickly type in your reply.

“Gladly.”

[disillusioned41]

Just two days after President Donald Trump abruptly blew up bipartisan coronavirus relief talks, the Labor Department reported Thursday that around 1.3 million additional Americans filed for unemployment benefits last week as the U.S. economy continues to falter without the kind of stimulus that experts say is necessary to stem the crisis and relieve widespread hunger, housing insecurity, and joblessness.

"Terribly high numbers of jobless claims point to a slowing recovery, with over 25 million collecting benefits," tweeted Rep. Don Beyer (D-Va.). "Trump has abandoned them."

The president's sudden decision Tuesday to end coronavirus negotiations via Twitter a day after he departed Walter Reed National Military Medical Center imperiled the prospect that any additional stimulus checks, unemployment benefits, state and local aid, and rental assistance will be approved ahead of next month's presidential election.

"It's clear that Trump and his allies' ruthless pursuit of power on the high court comes above all else and at any cost." —Kyle Herrig, Accountable.US

In keeping with his erratic behavior since leaving Walter Reed—where he received a powerful cocktail of medications for his coronavirus infection—Trump suggested Thursday morning that relief talks are back on and floated a narrow package that includes relief for the airline industry and another round of stimulus checks, a non-starter for Democratic lawmakers pushing for a much broader relief bill.

The president did not mention unemployment relief for tens of millions of out-of-work Americans.

"I shut down talks two days ago because they weren't working out. Now they're starting to work out," Trump said in an appearance on Fox Business. "We're talking about airlines, and we're talking about a bigger deal than airlines."

But its unclear whether Trump's suggestion that stimulus talks have resumed with a more limited scope will amount to anything substantive, particularly after House Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-Calif.) dismissed the idea of moving any stand-alone relief bills.

"There is not going to be any stand-alone bill unless there is a bigger bill and it can be part of that, or it could be in addition to it," Pelosi told reporters Thursday. Last week, the House passed a $2.2 trillion compromise relief package without the support of a single Republican, and Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) has refused to allow a vote on the measure.

Pointing to Trump's dizzying swings between supporting and opposing an additional stimulus bill, the House Speaker also raised questions about the president's mental and physical condition and vaguely announced that she will be discussing the 25th Amendment on Capitol Hill on Friday.

"The president is, shall we say, in an altered state right now," Pelosi said in an appearance on Bloomberg TV following her press briefing. "I don't know how to answer for that behavior."

With Trump throwing relief negotiations into chaos and sowing doubt that a deal can be reached before Election Day, a staggering number of people across the U.S. continue to face dire economic circumstances without any additional assistance from the federal government. According to the Census Bureau's Household Pulse Survey, nearly 78 million U.S. adults are struggling to afford basic expenses such as food and rent.

"As Trump and his Senate allies prioritize advancing their radical judicial agenda over the ongoing economic and public health crises, millions of Americans remain jobless, families are battling food insecurity, and tens of thousands of small businesses are shutting their doors for good," said Kyle Herrig, president of watchdog group Accountable.US, referring to the GOP's unpopular decision to prioritize the confirmation of right-wing Judge Amy Coney Barrett to the Supreme Court.

"There should be no greater priority for lawmakers than addressing the worsening pandemic and its unprecedented impact on the economy," Herrig continued. "But it's clear that Trump and his allies' ruthless pursuit of power on the high court comes above all else and at any cost."

In a blog post on Thursday, Heidi Shierholz of the Economic Policy Institute wrote that it is "terrible economics" to cut off the stimulus talks as mass layoffs continue at an unprecedented rate.

"The extra $600 in weekly [unemployment insurance] benefits was supporting a huge amount of spending by people who, without it, have to make drastic cuts," Shierholz noted. "Cutting off talks also means no additional housing and nutrition assistance, no Covid-related health and safety measures for workers, no aid to the Postal Service during this critical time, and no additional support for virus testing, tracing, and isolation measures, or virus treatment and support for hospitals and other health providers."

"All of these things would have helped our economy and the people in it recover from the Covid crisis," added Shierholz. "Cutting it off is unthinkable at a time like this."

[easyfoodnetwork]

The Lockdown Was Terrible for Restaurants. Can We Make ‘Reopening’ Any Better?

Photo by FREDERIC J. BROWN/AFP via Getty Images

Without proper aid, restaurants will struggle through rolling lockdowns and half-capacity dining rooms

In Georgia, restaurant owners are in shock. At a press conference this week, the state’s governor Brian Kemp announced plans to allow the state’s restaurants to reopen to the public on April 27 — the first state in the nation to do so after sweeping shutdown measures closing public spaces in March. Some restaurateurs already know they will not be following suit. “JenChan’s will not put our staff or the rest of our community at risk by reopening to the public Monday,” restaurateur Emily Chan told Eater Atlanta. “We will continue takeout and delivering our Supper Club but we cannot risk a second wave when the first wave is still happening.” Restaurateurs in other states may soon find themselves making similar decisions as the president and local governments make louder and louder pushes to “reopen” for business.

The lockdown was a body blow to restaurants, but “reopening” poses a whole new set of terrifying, existential threats: Experts agree America would need widespread testing both for the virus and its antibodies, robust contact tracing, quarantine protocols for even the mildly sick, and treatment options as the country awaits a vaccine. We’re not even close yet.

More profoundly, the current thinking around “opening up” suggests that one key containment tool will be strategically putting the population back under lockdown whenever cases resurge. For restaurants, that means potentially opening for a few weeks, re-staffing and re-training, ordering new product, and getting the word out about letting customers into half-capacity dining... only to be forced to close again with little notice. Open. Close. Open. Close.

A rolling lockdown cycle — which some experts believe will last 18 months or longer — would be debilitating. Half-capacity dining rooms mean restaurants won’t be earning at pre-COVID rates in the first place. And when the restaurants are forced, once again, to close their dining rooms entirely, the familiar choices will come fast and hard as they did this time: Keep employees on payroll and hope for a quick reopening? Furlough staff? Lay them off? Meanwhile rent will still come due. Each return wave of customers that would follow each subsequent lockdown would be more economically depressed than the last. On top of that, there’d be money lost to wasted product, difficult-to-spin-up pivots to contactless delivery or grocery models again, and any other unexpected repairs or expenses due to having operated their dining room at all.

While Congress is likely to inject more money into the PPP, it’s hard to imagine many more $2 trillion stimulus plans forthcoming, even if we’re expecting to see multiple localized lockdowns over the next year and a half. The difficulty of resuming operations before the true end of the pandemic isn’t a problem that can be solved by any one restaurant; the aid the industry’s workers need can’t be addressed by any one relief fund. The only organization with any hope of achieving a solution at scale is the federal government, and so far it’s proven utterly unprepared if not utterly uninterested.

The only way forward for the small, independent restaurants that make dining out something special is large-scale government assistance that helps address the structural problems that have left restaurants (and restaurant workers) vulnerable to the current moment in the first place. The results so far do not inspire confidence. PPP is broken, and broken in exactly the way many of us expected: This is America, and big chains were allowed to reach hand over fist for limited resources ostensibly meant to save small businesses. Some $300 million of the $350 billion in available funding went to at least 75 publicly traded companies, some with market values of $100 million and above, according to an Associated Press investigation. Major restaurant chains like Potbelly, Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse, and Taco Cabana scored huge loans. So did Shake Shack — which, after a public backlash and, perhaps more importantly, securing additional capital, is “returning” its loan. Restaurants big and small also have to contend with the end-of-June deadline to rehire all full-time staff, which seems increasingly impossible. Meanwhile, the Independent Restaurant Coalition points out, airlines received specifically earmarked relief to the tune of $25,000,000,000 while zero dollars were specifically flagged to help restaurants.

But of all the failures, the biggest is that there just isn’t enough money — especially not enough money to cover the needs of publicly traded businesses, large chains, and small shops. Independent owners like Seattle’s Edouardo Jordan (Junebaby, Salare), Detroit’s Stephen Roginson (Batch Brewing Company), and Atlanta’s Jen and Emily Chan (JenChan’s Restaurant and Supper Club) are hearing that their banks can’t help them — the PPP money has long run out. When it comes to restaurants, the stimulus hasn’t done nearly enough. To protect restaurants going forward into the “reopening,” much more is needed.

A proper aid package for the restaurant industry, one that accounts for the consequences yet to be fully reckoned with, and with the ones yet to come — of rolling lockdowns, of lower demand in a ransacked economy — needs to be a part of the government-sanctioned “reopening.” It would actually prioritize the small, independent restaurants that form the cultural and economic lifeblood of neighborhoods, towns, and cities across the country in the form of a restaurant-specific stimulus.

In the fall of 2019, there were more than 657,000 food and drinking establishments in the U.S., per the Bureau of Labor Statistics, totaling 6 percent of all domestic businesses. Data from the National Restaurant Association suggest that the majority are what we’d consider “small business” (7 in 10 restaurants are single-unit). The things they needed in the first place would still be critical in the event of reopening and rolling lockdowns, like rent abatement and tax deferrals. The Independent Restaurant Coalition has called for Congress to require business interruption insurance to cover COVID-19 (which largely isn’t happening right now because of an exclusion many insurers added to avoid paying out business-interruption claims due to viruses). But most of all, they need money.

Aid money should not come with an impossible rehiring clause; the industry needs loans that are not only forgivable, but repayable at a realistic timeline, given the wildly uncertain future ahead. Payroll assistance should not be based on the ability to rehire at full capacity, and certainly not by an arbitrary deadline to hit such a goal — especially when businesses will likely be asked to temporarily shutter again in the future as lockdowns will likely be necessary again.

Independent restaurants need sweeping payroll assistance, closer to the Danish model. In Denmark, the government is covering 75 percent of payroll for the duration of the crisis to prevent the kind of mass layoffs America is already witnessing. With payroll burdens reduced with money that isn’t owed back, restaurant owners could more likely keep staff on board, even through rolling shutdowns. Workers could continue to earn, even as it might not be safe (or even necessary, staffing-wise) for them to come to work.

And given that millions of workers in the industry work at large chains, bigger restaurant companies (even those that are publicly traded) and their franchisees should also be eligible for aid — but their needs should be evaluated on different criteria, with relief coming from a separate fund so we don’t repeat the mistakes of PPP. A path to the restaurant sector surviving through waves of shutdowns just might be possible with the right aid.

The industry also needs concrete guidance on the practicalities of reopening amid the possibility of repeated lockdowns and a virus that hasn’t yet been contained. What are the risks to staff and what are the best safety and sanitation protocols to protect them? What are the rules for resuming business more generally, and how can they start planning around those? If additional safety equipment — whether it’s PPE or even plexiglass dividers to separate work stations in kitchens or seats in dining rooms — is required, will those resources be provided free or at reduced costs to restaurants? Data-driven safety guidelines and access to the right equipment to execute them should be a prerequisite of returning to any sort of business-as-usual.

I don’t know of anyone in the restaurant industry who expects this level of support. But there needs to be more — much more — than what’s currently on the table. For restaurants, not just reopening but surviving depends on it.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2VLzGN8 https://ift.tt/2KoClH7

Photo by FREDERIC J. BROWN/AFP via Getty Images

Without proper aid, restaurants will struggle through rolling lockdowns and half-capacity dining rooms

In Georgia, restaurant owners are in shock. At a press conference this week, the state’s governor Brian Kemp announced plans to allow the state’s restaurants to reopen to the public on April 27 — the first state in the nation to do so after sweeping shutdown measures closing public spaces in March. Some restaurateurs already know they will not be following suit. “JenChan’s will not put our staff or the rest of our community at risk by reopening to the public Monday,” restaurateur Emily Chan told Eater Atlanta. “We will continue takeout and delivering our Supper Club but we cannot risk a second wave when the first wave is still happening.” Restaurateurs in other states may soon find themselves making similar decisions as the president and local governments make louder and louder pushes to “reopen” for business.

The lockdown was a body blow to restaurants, but “reopening” poses a whole new set of terrifying, existential threats: Experts agree America would need widespread testing both for the virus and its antibodies, robust contact tracing, quarantine protocols for even the mildly sick, and treatment options as the country awaits a vaccine. We’re not even close yet.

More profoundly, the current thinking around “opening up” suggests that one key containment tool will be strategically putting the population back under lockdown whenever cases resurge. For restaurants, that means potentially opening for a few weeks, re-staffing and re-training, ordering new product, and getting the word out about letting customers into half-capacity dining... only to be forced to close again with little notice. Open. Close. Open. Close.

A rolling lockdown cycle — which some experts believe will last 18 months or longer — would be debilitating. Half-capacity dining rooms mean restaurants won’t be earning at pre-COVID rates in the first place. And when the restaurants are forced, once again, to close their dining rooms entirely, the familiar choices will come fast and hard as they did this time: Keep employees on payroll and hope for a quick reopening? Furlough staff? Lay them off? Meanwhile rent will still come due. Each return wave of customers that would follow each subsequent lockdown would be more economically depressed than the last. On top of that, there’d be money lost to wasted product, difficult-to-spin-up pivots to contactless delivery or grocery models again, and any other unexpected repairs or expenses due to having operated their dining room at all.

While Congress is likely to inject more money into the PPP, it’s hard to imagine many more $2 trillion stimulus plans forthcoming, even if we’re expecting to see multiple localized lockdowns over the next year and a half. The difficulty of resuming operations before the true end of the pandemic isn’t a problem that can be solved by any one restaurant; the aid the industry’s workers need can’t be addressed by any one relief fund. The only organization with any hope of achieving a solution at scale is the federal government, and so far it’s proven utterly unprepared if not utterly uninterested.

The only way forward for the small, independent restaurants that make dining out something special is large-scale government assistance that helps address the structural problems that have left restaurants (and restaurant workers) vulnerable to the current moment in the first place. The results so far do not inspire confidence. PPP is broken, and broken in exactly the way many of us expected: This is America, and big chains were allowed to reach hand over fist for limited resources ostensibly meant to save small businesses. Some $300 million of the $350 billion in available funding went to at least 75 publicly traded companies, some with market values of $100 million and above, according to an Associated Press investigation. Major restaurant chains like Potbelly, Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse, and Taco Cabana scored huge loans. So did Shake Shack — which, after a public backlash and, perhaps more importantly, securing additional capital, is “returning” its loan. Restaurants big and small also have to contend with the end-of-June deadline to rehire all full-time staff, which seems increasingly impossible. Meanwhile, the Independent Restaurant Coalition points out, airlines received specifically earmarked relief to the tune of $25,000,000,000 while zero dollars were specifically flagged to help restaurants.

But of all the failures, the biggest is that there just isn’t enough money — especially not enough money to cover the needs of publicly traded businesses, large chains, and small shops. Independent owners like Seattle’s Edouardo Jordan (Junebaby, Salare), Detroit’s Stephen Roginson (Batch Brewing Company), and Atlanta’s Jen and Emily Chan (JenChan’s Restaurant and Supper Club) are hearing that their banks can’t help them — the PPP money has long run out. When it comes to restaurants, the stimulus hasn’t done nearly enough. To protect restaurants going forward into the “reopening,” much more is needed.

A proper aid package for the restaurant industry, one that accounts for the consequences yet to be fully reckoned with, and with the ones yet to come — of rolling lockdowns, of lower demand in a ransacked economy — needs to be a part of the government-sanctioned “reopening.” It would actually prioritize the small, independent restaurants that form the cultural and economic lifeblood of neighborhoods, towns, and cities across the country in the form of a restaurant-specific stimulus.

In the fall of 2019, there were more than 657,000 food and drinking establishments in the U.S., per the Bureau of Labor Statistics, totaling 6 percent of all domestic businesses. Data from the National Restaurant Association suggest that the majority are what we’d consider “small business” (7 in 10 restaurants are single-unit). The things they needed in the first place would still be critical in the event of reopening and rolling lockdowns, like rent abatement and tax deferrals. The Independent Restaurant Coalition has called for Congress to require business interruption insurance to cover COVID-19 (which largely isn’t happening right now because of an exclusion many insurers added to avoid paying out business-interruption claims due to viruses). But most of all, they need money.

Aid money should not come with an impossible rehiring clause; the industry needs loans that are not only forgivable, but repayable at a realistic timeline, given the wildly uncertain future ahead. Payroll assistance should not be based on the ability to rehire at full capacity, and certainly not by an arbitrary deadline to hit such a goal — especially when businesses will likely be asked to temporarily shutter again in the future as lockdowns will likely be necessary again.

Independent restaurants need sweeping payroll assistance, closer to the Danish model. In Denmark, the government is covering 75 percent of payroll for the duration of the crisis to prevent the kind of mass layoffs America is already witnessing. With payroll burdens reduced with money that isn’t owed back, restaurant owners could more likely keep staff on board, even through rolling shutdowns. Workers could continue to earn, even as it might not be safe (or even necessary, staffing-wise) for them to come to work.

And given that millions of workers in the industry work at large chains, bigger restaurant companies (even those that are publicly traded) and their franchisees should also be eligible for aid — but their needs should be evaluated on different criteria, with relief coming from a separate fund so we don’t repeat the mistakes of PPP. A path to the restaurant sector surviving through waves of shutdowns just might be possible with the right aid.

The industry also needs concrete guidance on the practicalities of reopening amid the possibility of repeated lockdowns and a virus that hasn’t yet been contained. What are the risks to staff and what are the best safety and sanitation protocols to protect them? What are the rules for resuming business more generally, and how can they start planning around those? If additional safety equipment — whether it’s PPE or even plexiglass dividers to separate work stations in kitchens or seats in dining rooms — is required, will those resources be provided free or at reduced costs to restaurants? Data-driven safety guidelines and access to the right equipment to execute them should be a prerequisite of returning to any sort of business-as-usual.

I don’t know of anyone in the restaurant industry who expects this level of support. But there needs to be more — much more — than what’s currently on the table. For restaurants, not just reopening but surviving depends on it.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2VLzGN8 via Blogger https://ift.tt/2yxbXs4

[paulwilliamsinc]

Will Small Businesses Survive the Coronavirus?

https://paulwilliamsdds.com/will-small-businesses-survive-the-coronavirus/

Here in the United States, we are only on week 2 of the Coronavirus Shelter-in-Place Order. People are being asked to stay at home as much as possible and only leave the house if necessary. Such necessities include food, gas, medical appointments, shared custody drop-offs and pick-ups, and going outside for exercise. The goal of the Shelter-in-Place order is to "flatten the curve." This means to stagger the number of new cases over a longer period so that people have better access to care. While this method is perfect for decreasing the spread of a pandemic, small businesses quickly become collateral damage. Almost every business is being affected by the ‘Coronapocalypse’, but it’s small businesses that are hurting the most. It started back in January as manufacturing in China came to a halt, which stemmed the product flow for merchandisers attempting to get their goods to consumers. Most of the world's goods are manufactured in China; when production started to slow, businesses didn't have the materials or products they needed to sell to consumers. Then, in February, the virus arrived on our shores. It's all been downhill since then. Businesses have either closed or are operating in a limited capacity. The moment the Shelter-in-Place Order was enacted, businesses began to financially hemorrhage. With limited or no income and continual expenses, the coronavirus has caused many businesses to permanently close their doors. So, what can businesses do to stop the bleeding? How can they hold on for the next few weeks? Let's dive in and discuss.

Breaking Down Expenses

Payroll

First, we need to review the major expenses for small businesses. The first major expense for many businesses is payroll. During the last few weeks, many companies have had to lay off a considerable number of their staff. Economists project that the unemployment rate in the United States will jump up at least 10% from February's 3.5%. Although this was unavoidable for some businesses, letting go of your staff should be the absolute last resort. When the Shelter-in-Place Order lifts, you will still end up working with a diminished capacity; now you have limited staff or need to train new hires. Additionally, as unemployment levels rise people will spend less, thus decreasing the demand for the goods and services of many of these businesses. The advice for businesses considered essential services? Keep your staff part-time. Give staff the opportunity to maintain some form of income so they can continue to support themselves and/or their families. Use this as an opportunity to cross-train staff! That way, everyone is able to take on hours and you have the future flexibility of being to reorganize staff, since everyone is trained in all necessary aspects of the business. If you're unable to operate during this Shelter-in-Place Order, see whether you can pivot your business model to incorporate a delivery/pick-up method. All restaurants should register themselves on DoorDash, Grub Hub, Uber Eats, etc. and start doing take-out, if they haven’t already. If you're a small clothing store, sign up for Shopify and start selling your items online. Using Shopify, you can also sell your goods on Facebook and Instagram, reaching a much larger audience. Use this time while stuck at home to reflect on your business plan and model; figure out a way to pivot. Brainstorm with your staff! After all, running a business is a team effort; their experiences can provide the ideas needed to survive. If you're in a business that has absolutely no way to operate during this Shelter-in-Place Order, then consider furlough or temporary leave of absence for your staff. Let them know that they have job security and that, when things resume, they’ll be right back at work. In times of chaos and panic, people are looking for some form of stability. The last thing people want to envision is being stuck at home for a month because of the Coronavirus, then being stuck at home for another 3 months because they have no job to go back to. Let your staff know that they should file for unemployment if they’re unable to make ends meet. Check in on them regularly. If they’re struggling, consider giving them a small advance from their next paycheck. Compassion goes a long way. If you want your employees to care about your business, you should make them feel that their presence in your organization is essential.

Taxes

The other big payroll expense is taxes. There’s good news there, though! Right now the Senate is drafting a Coronavirus relief bill which would give businesses with under 50 employees new tax credits and federal payroll tax relief. Employers must pay the 1.45% Medicare tax component of the federal payroll tax, but they can claim a credit for that outlay. So, keep your ear to the business news channels (Bloomberg Television, CNBC, Fox Business Network, Sky News Business Channel, etc.), as they’ll give you more of an economic focus and less sensationalized coverage of the Coronavirus pandemic.

Loans

The next largest expense for most businesses are loans/credit cards. Whether it's business loans, student loans, or credit cards, creditors are the biggest nuisance when you're financially strapped. You want to make a list of every single loan agency and creditor; look through your monthly statements and highlight the recurrent payments. Once you've created your list, call each of them and request a forbearance. Thankfully, many creditors are granting a forbearance if you state that your hardship is related to the Coronavirus. Some credit cards are allowing their customers 60 days, interest- and penalty-free, to pay outstanding balances. Just give them a call or message them through their secure online portal and ask what they’re able to do for you during this time of crisis.

Rent

The next major monthly expense for many businesses is rent/mortgage. This is the tough one. If you're a business and you own the property, then you're in luck – neither the banks nor the government will be pursuing action for people unable to pay their mortgage or property taxes during this pandemic. Rent, however, is a different ballgame. Rent is up to the discretion of either the corporation or individual that owns your space. Contact your landlord immediately. The more notice you can give your landlord about your financial struggles, the better the outcome will be. Contact them as soon as you think there might be a problem making rent and ask what options they can offer you. Can you pause payments for a month or two? Are they willing to accept a lower rate for the time being? Hopefully, they’re rational and willing to negotiate with you. After all, it’s to their benefit that they keep you as a tenant, since it’ll be almost impossible to find a new tenant during this pandemic. Additionally, with a recession looming over us, there’s no guarantee that they’ll even be able to fill the vacant space once this is over.

Marketing

Another big expense for many small businesses is marketing/advertising. You want to cut your marketing, but not eliminate it altogether. Use your free time to learn how much you can do yourself; find and engage your audience. If you're now offering delivery services, you want to let your customers know. If you've set up an online store, you want to direct them to it. Keep your customers informed and engaged. When the Shelter-in-Place Order is over, you want an easy way to let them know that you’re back in business. Build your social media presence and use newsletter services, like MailChimp and Constant Contact, so that your customers can sign up for updates. If you completely eliminate your marketing, you'll still be stuck with decreased revenue when things resume because your customers won’t be aware when you open again. Alternatively, without being reminded of your presence, they may simply forget about you!

Stay Optimistic

It's going to be a rough few months, but use this free time to be productive. Dissect your expenses, take advantage of every coronavirus relief aide, and build relationships with your staff and customers. Use this time to improve your business by coming up with new strategies or finding ways to reduce overhead. Remain optimistic. To quote Winston Churchill, "If you're going through hell, keep going." You'll get through this. We all will.

[bananashemmo]

When We Collide (Part 23)

Pairing: Assistant!Y/N/CEO!Luke

Rating: NC-17

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22

Summary: He is the definition of high class smart ass, swimming in Dom Pierre Pérignon champagne and has never seen the shadow of poverty. She is underprivileged, lives in a messy dorm room on sale and struggles working as an assistant after being thrown out of college. But how will they collide when Luke makes Y/N pregnant after a drunkenly one night stand?

When We Collide on Wattpad

“So, should we see what’s hiding inside?” 

You nodded your head furiously and looked up at Luke. He was having his eyebrows furrowed and his phone in his hand. Something was up, you could tell but it couldn’t be as important as this moment was.

Finally, after weeks of waiting you would find out what gender was hiding inside of your growing womb.

The lights had been dimmed just for the occasion. The screen in front of you was showing the typical thing that you had grown used to. The fetus was there, it was in the sepia colors and what was pretty amazing was that you could see from visit to visit how much it had grown.

It was starting to look more and more like a human. You had easier with pointing out what was what, even Luke could tell that it wasn’t looking much like a peanut anymore.

“Can you see anything?” Luke asked curious. None of you were sonographers so you had no idea what to look for. 

“Well so far I’m just checking everything is alright. The numbers are right and you’re following the right path.” Dr. Sullivan responded, not the answer he wanted to hear but it was also good to hear.

In fact you had been discussing for a while whether you wanted to hear what the gender was or not.

Luke had been the one to say he wanted it as a surprise. He didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl, but you knew deep inside he was begging for it to be a boy. He wanted someone to take over his business and being the little male chauvinist he was - he didn’t believe a girl could take over.

You on the other hand didn’t really care what it was. To you, the most important thing was that the baby was healthy, it was something you worried every single time you went for a scanning.

But since you had passed the 12 weeks you were less scared than you had been before. Though, it didn’t take away the scary nightmares you had been having thinking that the baby would die inside of your womb before getting the chance to come out and see the sunlight.

“You said something about it being a surprise?” Dr. Sullivan asked just to be sure in case she already had figured out the answer.

“Well I don’t really know…” You shrugged and looked up at Luke. 

“We kind of decided it should be a surprise and you would find out at the birth.” He shrugged, not really knowing what to state. He seemed torn as well but he had put huge pressure on wanting it to be a surprise.

Not necessary at the birth but maybe some other way. He just wanted to be surprised, he wanted to know it when he least expected it. It wasn’t as big to him as it was to you but he still showed a decent amount of care.

“You’ve still got some time to think because it’s not much I can see right now.” She admitted with furrowed eyebrows. This happened all the time you’d read.

If the baby wasn’t resting right in the womb correctly it would be hard to state the gender. The legs could easily hide was what either supposed to be a little thing or nothing, but you sincerely hoped that you would actually find out.

“You can’t see anything?” You asked and squeezed your eyes to look better at the screen.

“So far I can’t really see anything. Her legs are squeezed together so because of that they’re covering what is supposed to reveal the sex.” Dr. Sullivan tried her best to move the transducer around the skin of your stomach.

If she was lucky maybe she would be able to, trying to wiggle a bit in your belly and hope for the baby to at least turn around. If not, you knew that you would need to make another appointment because even if Luke wanted it to be a secret you were so desperate to know.

“Y/N we can work out few ideas, if you could stand up please.” She suggested and you leaned up from the bed.

Still with the cold gel on your stomach you stood up and held onto the paper tissues that were hooked under your pants to make sure you wouldn’t spill anywhere.

“Now, please do a few jumps here and there in hope of the baby moving around. I think maybe he or she is sleeping and it might be the cause of why I can’t get them to move with poking.” She explained and you almost looked like her in disbelief.

Did you really have to jump right in the middle of the room with Luke watching you with raised eyebrows?

“Come on.” She encouraged with a smile, “It’s a good exercise, I promise.” 

You were still unsure but decided to hop. You were actually scared that it would hurt the baby but as time had progressed you figured out nothing could really harm her by doing normal exercises.

You were almost out of breath after jumping for a full minute straight. If the baby didn’t move this time so you could see what hiding inside you knew you would have to make a new appointment.

She smiled softly by your reaction cleaned the transducer before using it again.

The gel on your stomach had stuck to the skin and it was a sigh of relief that came from your lips when you fell back to the bed. After this pregnancy you needed to start working out in a gym because your fitness was worse than ever.

“Let’s see if we can see something now.” Dr. Sullivan smiled and focused back on the screen.

She was humming, searching around again but you could tell on the screen that there was a whole lot more to show than last time. The legs weren’t squeezed up like before but you still couldn’t tell what the sex was from your eye sight.

She took a few pictures here and there as usual but still kept quiet. You were almost getting impatient.

But right as she was about to say something Luke’s phone started to ring loudly.

“Really?” You almost groaned and fell back to the pillow in disbelief.

“Sorry,” He apologized and reached it out of his pocket to answer, “It must be something important.”

You looked over at Dr. Sullivan apologizing but she didn’t seem to mind. She had observed you were out of the ordinary and took it with a small smile.

“Yes?” Luke answered the phone with furrowed eyebrows, “Oh hey honey.” 

You rolled your eyes to the back of your head when you heard the faint sound of Holly. Out of all the times she could have possibly called him it had to be done now.

“Wait what?” He asked with wide eyes and his tone rising. He stood up from the chair in a hurry and disappeared in the other end of the hospital room.

“What do you mean we have troubles with the diamond party? I made sure to rent the ball room in time for everything?” He was having a confused expression on his face, he didn’t understand what was going on.

“I know but something went wrong and they’re not available tonight! I even suggested putting twice the cash we’d pay normally but they wouldn’t bug! We need to do something else!” Holly almost yelled back in the phone, she was just as frustrated as him.

Luke sighed in frustration and looked over his shoulder softly without saying a word. He couldn’t bother to think about this now but forced into the situation he had to. 

“Okay I’m gonna put my head in ice. We’ll write out to everyone stating that the reception has been moved from the ball hall to my penthouse apartment instead. We’ll roll the food over, make sure that everyone understands and also buy extra bottles of champagne in apology for the sudden change of plans.”

“Sounds like a really good idea.” Holly was quick to respond and hung up on the phone to make sure she could start out as fast as possible.

Luke ran a hand through his hair in frustration and checked his mails to find out if the ball company had sent him something. It was too late to cancel something like this and there was no way possible he wanted to in the first place.

He wanted this night to go well no matter what and since he was Luke Hemmings he would figure out a solution.

“I’m having trouble with some business so I need to leave now.” He was quick to answer when looking over his shoulder to see you look at him curiously. 

“The most important thing was that the baby’s healthy,” He leaned down to grab his blazer that had been hanging on his chair and threw it over his shoulders. 

“I’ll see you at home.” 

You barely got a thing to say before he was out of the door and gone. This was so typical Luke you couldn’t even get yourself to get angry. He wasn’t even supposed to be at the scanning in the first place but now his effort and visit had been pointless.

But that was just the way Luke was. When something more important came up, everything that involved something he had the responsibility for, he pushed away everything else to take care of it. 

He was almost running down the hospital room. He had been waiting for this night for so long, it had been planned out so well but it was because he was the bragging person he was.

He couldn’t wait to tell everyone about his diamonds. Show how expensive they were and how much they reflected in the sun light when it was streaming through the full body mirrors in the living room.

It was also why he had added the extra amount of security guards. Ashton spent the majority of the time at your apartment and you most probably assumed it was because of them. 

Luke wasn’t supposed to be this stressed out but this really wasn’t his day and he couldn’t wait to get a hold of everything so he could relax again.

When he came into the penthouse it was stacked with all the supplies that were supposed to be at the ball room. They should have tables nicely decorated but that wasn’t possible around here.

The penthouse was big but not enough to serve 200 people.

He would assume that not everyone would show up and that he would get the chance to spread people everywhere. Some could be standing in the kitchen, others in the lounge and living room and some could even stand on the large balcony.

It did in fact have one of the best views of New York and since it wasn’t as cold as he feared they could just wear a jacket over their suits and fancy dresses. 

Holly was standing with a confused gaze on his face when he stepped inside with a wave. He had after all not explained where he was going so she had probably been curious as to where he had spent the morning.

“Guests will be here hours from now. You think we can make it?” He asked when he saw the kitchen counters being completely covered with dishes they had ordered from a rather fancy sushi company. 

“Of course we can. It’s us.” She giggled and pointed towards the couches where she had placed his suit. 

“They delivered it this morning. It goes perfectly with my dress.” She had a huge smile on her face and he made a thumbs up. 

“Where were you this morning? Patrick said you were out for the morning but that could mean everything and first I couldn’t reach you.” 

The question he had predicted and he nervously fiddled with the foil covering the dishes. 

“You know my assistant Y/N? Yeah, she needed a ride today for her pregnancy appointment and being the nice boss I am decided to give her a drive. Though there was traffic on the way back so that was the reason I was unable to call.” 

After a bit of thought he knew it didn’t take much to convince Holly everything. He could have come up with a lie much worse than that but decided to go for something simple and easy to understand. 

“Oh that’s very nice!” She said almost excitedly and placed something in the fridge.

Luke nodded his head in agreement but with furrowed eyebrows. Lying was something he felt he was good at but it still felt a little bit artificial.

“You know I’ve got this feeling,” She suddenly said and his face flied up fast to look at her. 

“I know this is only something I’m sensing but I have this feeling that the baby will have five toes.” 

It took Luke a few seconds to register what she had said. He had expected it to be something way different, he almost felt his heart beat a little bit faster but it was quickly overshadowed by almost wanting to roll his eyes. 

“I don’t think that’s the case honey. The baby seems pretty healthy.” He replied and walked over to the couch to grab the suit and have a look. It was white with a hint of turquoise just like the diamonds. 

“Have you seen it?” She asked casually and ran a hand through his hair. 

He was standing with her back facing her but nodded his head in agreement with a hum. 

“She has pictures on her desk.” He replied and reached down to grab his wallet. He had actually seen every scanning picture that had been taken since the beginning.

“You know babies are so nasty I don’t understand why people think they’re cute.” She responded but he only heard half the words she said.

“You know they’re wrinkly, they drool and seem to ruin everything in your life. I’m lucky that I’m not her because all the changes she’s going through must be horrible.” 

Holly’s voice was only faint in the background because Luke had other thoughts. Deep down where all the credit cards and business cards he found the small scanning picture he had kept. 

A small sigh escaped his lips and he was quick to remove it when he heard her feet padding against the floor and he turned around quick. 

“Should we go fix the rest and get dressed?” He asked to change the subject and she nodded her head agreeing. 

Of course Luke also ordered some help so they didn’t have to do it all by themselves. It would be the same as saying he should clean his tooth brush after brushing his teeth - was insane!

It took longer than intended because of the change of plans but they managed to make it in time. And as you arrived home after a day of work after the scanning you were met by the whole living room crowded.

“What is going on?” You asked confused when walking inside, not to anyone in particular but you could really need an answer. 

The large banner in the middle saying diamond party spoiled pretty much everything but it didn’t make you less confused. This place was completely filled with people but now you understood what had been going on with the phone conversation earlier.

You were standing with your bag confused where to go. You weren’t even sure if you could mob through the people to get to the stairs and up to your room. Besides you were also hungry but the trip to the kitchen seemed impossible.

“Hello.” Someone said from your behind and you turned around quickly with furrowed eyebrows.

You didn’t know the lady at all but neither the male standing next to her. You could tell that they were a couple by the way they had their arms hooked around each other and you politely shook her hand. 

“As Luke requested everyone has to introduce their gemstone to each other. We are the rubies.” She explained as if it wasn’t obvious and made a motion with her hand to show their outfits.

They were wearing red almost from top to toe. Even her hair color was a deep shade of red velvet. You thought it was almost insane and if you had to be stopped by everyone around here you would go nuts.

“And yours?” She asked with a hint of confusion as to what you were wearing.

“I’m coal.” You were quick to respond to get out of here. You were wearing a black blouse and a black skirt today so it was the only thing that came to your mind.

“Now would you have me excused.”

You didn’t wait for an answer and turned around quickly. How could this place fit that many people and how was it possible to almost wear a different color? Nothing seemed to be the same both with color and dresses. 

You hurried through the kitchen and grabbed whatever bread you could find to satisfy your cravings. It just had to be something fast, you didn’t want to stand in such a crowded place.

But before you could take the quick sprint to the stairs you were grabbed by someone else. You almost wanted to groan again because this game was getting ridiculous. 

“Woah slow down speedy Gonzales! Where is it burning?” 

“Ashton!” You exclaimed happily when seeing his familiar face and uniform. Thank god you weren’t the only stuck here feeling a little bit misplaced. 

Leaning up to give him a well-deserved hug you took in his scent and felt a bit more relaxed. You stressed out easily in crowded places like these and that definitely wouldn’t be healthy for the baby.

You tried your best to avoid it. 

“Were you invited too?” You asked a bit confused, you couldn’t recall seeing his name on the invitation list. 

“Yeah for work.” He replied with a grin and you laughed quietly.

Of course it was that way. Luke needed the extra staff and Ashton was most probably supposed to be at the ball thing. He always needed his extra help and it was nice that he had almost all the free time to take care of stuff like this. 

“So how’s it going? How far are we?” He asked interested and you excitedly leaned down to find the new scanning picture you had just received.

“I was at a scanning this morning actually.” You explained and gave him the picture to see. 

“Woah it’s been growing fast. Can you keep track of it or is it going too fast?” He squeezed his eyes because he wasn’t wearing his glasses and moved his face closer to have a better look. 

“Not at all.” You laughed and shook your head, “But what was special today was it was the gender reveal.”

“So you know?” He asked interested and you nodded your head in agreement.

Leaning up to stand on your toes you whispered it in his ear, seeing his face lit up in excitement.

“Oh my god that’s great! Congratulations!” 

“Thank you.” You giggled and got the picture back when he had taken a look. He was having a wide smile on his face you could tell that he was happy on your behalf.

“Time to decorate the nursery and start buying clothes, huh?” He asked and you nodded your head in agreement. You couldn’t wait to do so. 

“May I have everyone’s attention please.” 

You glanced over your shoulder by the sound of Luke’s voice and saw him standing in the middle of the stairs. Holly was by his side as per usual, it was close to become a scenario you had seen before.

“Thank you for showing up even because of the bad circumstances. I hope you will all have a delightful evening and let’s start it out by the confetti falling.”

You looked around confused not really knowing what he was hinting at. You did remember buying a lot of different kinds of confetti cannons in mini size where you had to pull a small string in the end. 

Everyone around you was either searching for something or taking something from the counters. They all had these cannons ready for Luke to count down. 

“I would like to welcome you all to the diamond party. Let’s give it a bang.” Luke said as his final words and pulled onto the small string in his confetti cannon, letting small pieces of paper in the same color as his outfit fall down.

It was echoing in the whole room of people pulling at their strings, confetti falling from everywhere and it was all coordinated. The ones with the rubies had red colorful confetti and someone else with a purple dress had purple ones. 

The floor looked completely by a mess but Luke didn’t seem to find. In fact he had the most excited look on his face as everyone was cheering loudly, it was gonna be such a great night he could feel it. 

But you could also predict it would be such a mess. Someone needed to clean this up and no matter what you wouldn’t be the one to do it. 

You turned around to say something to Ashton but he had actually left without notice. You didn’t blame him though if something had come up you understood while he had left during the confetti weirdness. 

Good thing was though everyone had drawn their attention to the diamonds. The kitchen was now free to stand in without worrying that someone would bump into you.

“Sorry about the mess.” 

You looked up to see Luke smiling apologizing. He seemed stressed so you almost didn’t want to disturb his work, his eyes were scanning the table for something.

“You forgot one.” You mentioned and showed him a confetti cannon that hadn’t been used yet.

He furrowed his eyebrows confused and took it from your hands. He wasn’t sure who it belonged too much since the kitchen already looked like a mess he thought why not use another one. 

“Try it out.” You suggested with a small smile on your face and took a step back.

He nodded his head in agreement and pulled onto the string. Pink confetti flied out of the cannon within a second as he pointed towards the ceiling, some falling down to the floor while other fell in his hair. 

“It’s pink?” He mentioned when grabbing some confetti that had fallen onto his suit.

You nodded your head in agreement, the smile growing on your face. 

“It’s pink.” You said in confirm, biting down on your lip and waiting seconds to see if something came up in his mind. 

“It’s pink.” He said again, his eyebrows furrowing and suddenly he looked at you intensely.

“It’s a girl?” 

You bit down on your lip but the smile was huge on your face. Your cheeks were completely red by the announcement and his reaction was worth everything.

“I’m getting a girl?” He asked just to be sure and collected some of the confetti from his hair. It was almost as if he didn’t believe your words were true, he needed a full confirm to believe what was going on.

“The gender is a girl.” You giggled and rubbed your stomach, seeing his face be completely blank but it was replaced with probably the biggest smile Luke had possibly ever had. 

“I can’t believe this!” He said in disbelief, “I’m getting a girl!” 

Authors note:

There we have it! The baby Y/N and Luke are expecting IS  A GIRL! There was no doubt that people wanted that the most and since the gender in Luke’s version of my Pregnancy Series was a boy it will be nice to write something different. There was also an anon message that stood out to me completely and made me settle with my decision:

It should be a girl, you can tell Luke has had a lot of male influences in his life and it might open his heart and mind to accepting unexpected change. Plus how cute does CEO Luke spoiling his little princess sound.

[tinyhousemayhem]

tiny house costs

As requested: a blog on costs.  (keep in mind that my micro-tiny house is on the extreme small size, 8 x 12 base trailer.  Most of my estimates are calculated based on smaller sized THoWs.  If you’re planning on building a much larger tiny house- closer to the 400 square foot range- your costs will necessarily be higher)

You can do a bunch of different options here.  if you build your own, with your own labor, learning as you go, that cuts costs down to materials and tools, some of which you can rent.  you can do it for between 10-15k (or more depending on size), less if you have a GOOD source of reclaimed materials, and you’re not pickey about style.   Going this route, be sure you have someone skilled (professional) to check your electric and gas line.  if it’s not installed properly, i won’t mince words: you could die.    -  the next category up, is having parts built by skilled laborers, while doing other parts yourself.  A good base trailer (dual axle, with electric breaks) will be under $2000.   Having the more skilled work, such as the gas and electric installed for you, takes out a lot of the headache.   Where you live in the country will depend on the costs.   Third: you can buy a pre-built tiny home that is either new or used.  i would be very cautious about buying used- depending on how they were constructed, you could be inheriting problems you can’t see (leaks, structural damage, etc).   I have seen them as cheap as a couple thousand dollars from people who were trying to liquidate fast when they realized the tiny house lifestyle didn’t fit their family’s needs (and they realized the tiny house wasn’t appropriate in their community- they just wanted someone to tow it away for them), to 30-40k. 

Lastly, you can hire a company to design and build  your house.  that can be anywhere from 30000-70000, depending on your “must haves.”  If you want a custom design that matches your lifestyle (which is why most of us are living tiny), talk to a few companies.  Decide what things are necessary, what things would be really nice but luxuries.   They will build to suit you, but the more things you can cut out, the cheaper it will be.   Once you have your home, your main costs will be: a lot fee, if that applies to your situation.  Me, i move my house regularly, so i have to find a place that allows a “long term” camping (like an RV for a monthly rate).   If you’re planning on putting your tiny house in your back yard, then this wouldn’t apply to you.   I budget up to $1000 for lot fees, and i haven’t had to use that much yet, coast to coast.  that includes camping monthly in KOA parks, mobile home parks, and in limited service rural land (had water and electric).   Every place I've been to so far has also included internet.   

I do budget in about 100/ yeark for propane.  that’s more than i use, but i don’t want to worry about running out if i need more (and that’s buying it at the most expensive prices).   I run a combo of propane and electric heaters, but propane runs the water heater and my oven/stove.  

I don’t have a post offfice box, i just get my mail forwarded to the campground, or a local friend no extra costs there. I do have to buy compost medium, about 3x a year, under $50, for the toilet.  I have land i can compost the final results on, so i don’t have to worry about what to do with that once i’m done.  

i also have to plan for my moves too:  towing takes my MPG down from around 13-18 to as low as 7mpg.  If you’re going cross country, that’s quite a dent.  You don’t want to under-plan for diesel costs.  i plan around a thousand dollars to get from the midwest to california.  

I also plan another thousand dollars for nightly KOA stays (at around 80-150 a night, KOA rate) as well as food, and tourist trap type side trips, that i have a severe weakness for.  I stay mostly in KOAs because they are ALL tiny house friendly and i have the membership that gives a discount, but i also stay at any small mom and pop RV campgrounds that are tiny house friendly. I love to give my money to local businesses (especially those struggling on Route 66), and many take a AAA discount.  

I also pay yearly for the invaluable AAA discount.  I pay a little over $100 for the AAA plus discount, that will tow me and my house up to 100 miles to a preferred shop (versus the standard that tows only like 15 miles i think?).  They also have other perks like BRINGING YOU GAS IF YOU RUN OUT.  seriously, if you’re getting only 7mpg, you’re buying fuel every 200 miles.  there are parts of the country that there is not a station every 200 miles.  Cary an extra large FULL back up.  you might need it.  

That’s about everything i can think of for my household expenses, that aren’t typical things you might find in a standard home.   What other questions can i answer?

[sinrau]

Americans Should be Getting Unparalleled Support During an Unparalleled Catastrophe. Instead, They’re Getting Almost Nothing

Here’s the almost good news. The House passed a new stimulus bill for the American economy. Here’s the bad news. It’s not a very good one. Here’s the worse news. The GOP is sure to poleax it in the Senate, anyways. Translation: America’s government and leadership class is basically doing little to nothing to support the economy…in it’s time of greatest crisis since the Great Depression. What the? The results are emerging, and they’re already spectacular, ruinous, breathakingly devastating.

Even plainer English translation: Americans should be getting unparalleled support from their government, in hard cash, guarantees, and aid, during an unparalleled catastrophe — instead, President Donald J Trump’s proudly telling them to drink bleach, and go salute the Space Force, while spending most days…tweeting even crazier bullshit than the last 24 hours. The Democrats, on the other hand, tell us they’re fighting back — but are they, really, and if so, how? Americans, months into the pandemic, are still getting literally almost nothing in the form of real support, especially compared to other rich countries — just the equivalent of one week’s worth of income….during the fastest, hardest, sharpest economic calamity in modern history. What the?

Hence, let’s start with how dire the plight of the American economy now really is, thanks to that lack of support. Just half of America’s population is currently employed. The unemployment rate is skyrocketing to 25% plus. Retail sales have dropped by 16% in just one quarter. When this quarter’s data comes in, the economy will have shrunk by the largest amount in modern history — easily 10% or more. Americans — 80% of whom lived paycheck to paycheck before the economic crisis wreaked by the pandemic — now find themselves drawing down their savings and going deeper into already unpayable debt, shuttering their businesses, turning furloughs into long-term layoffs. What funds were available were bogged down in a mess of red tape. As a result, the economy’s entering a vicious spiral of depression: falling incomes, lower employment, less spending, higher indebtedness, bankruptcy, and uncertainty all feeding one another, like a many-headed monster.

This is what true economic cataclysm looks like. 25% unemployment in…a matter of weeks? That, my friends, isn’t just statistics: it’s a human tragedy. Many good and hard-working Americans — mostly unseen by their leaders and elites — are experiencing the profound pain, anxiety, and stress of economic cataclysm every day, right about now, and it’s getting worse, not better. Precisely because Americans have still gotten literally almost no support or aid when an historic catastrophe suddenly hit them and brought life to a standstill.

That brings us to the new stimulus bill. There’s a certain imperative when it comes to preventing depressions, which was discovered by the great scholar of depressions, Keynes, about a century ago. Stimulate. At a scale and scope equal to the wreckage that’s about to ensue. If, for example, people are going to lose their incomes for months, that’s exactly how long and hard you must stimulate. If waves of small and medium sized businesses are going to go bankrupt over a year, that’s how long and hard you must infuse blood into the veins of the economy.

America’s government failed at doing that when it offered people and businesses just one week of support during the last round of stimulus. But there’s always another chance. So what about this time? How does this new stimulus bill hold up?

One answer is that some stimulus is better than none. That’s true. But the correct bar is: is the support being offered enough to get people through these hard times, without the loss of confidence, optimism, and faith that goes on to shatter economies, as people stay home, spend less money, and therefore cause a long-term, large-scale loss of income and employment? Is it enough? The answer to that question is clearly: not even close.

What was proposed by various more forward thinking members of Congress were precisely some of things that were necessary to stave off a Greater Depression. One Caucus in Congress advanced the notion of guaranteeing incomes up to $90,000. Good idea? Great idea. It’s what happened in many European countries, like Denmark and Britain — and as a result, they’re already suffering less economic damage than America.

Another idea was for recurring stimulus checks — so-called helicopter money — not just a one-time payment. Good idea? Great idea. This carnage is going to go on…for the foreseeable future. The disease and the uncertainty, havoc, and paralysis it wreaks on an economy aren’t going to magically disappear tomorrow — no matter how much Trump’s army of fools wants them to: they’re here to stay. Pandemic fade slowly, not overnight. And so the idea of recurring checks, another kind of guarantee, was an excellent idea — it would have gone a long way to restoring faith and confidence, or at least a much longer way than a one off $1200 that many people can’t even seem to get.

Yet another was debt forgiveness — notably student debt forgiveness. Good idea? Stellar idea. Again, many European nations went this route. Italy, for example, suspended mortgages and rent. I would have gone much further than just student debt forgiveness. What about medical debt forgiveness? Doesn’t that make a whole lot of sense…in the middle of a pandemic? What about suspending rents and mortgages — something which is happening naturally anyways, as people go broke, and simply shrug when the landlord comes calling? The government should, in times of catastrophe like these, freeze the debt system, put it in suspended animation.

Banks get free money from the government at the central bank, anyways — they’re in no real danger of going under if debt is frozen. But the average person in America lives a life crippled by debt, so badly so that they actually die in debt. These days, every penny counts — and freezing debt would have gone the longest way of all to restoring confidence and faith in the economy.

Three fantastic ideas. Guess what the new stimulus bill doesn’t offer? You guessed it, any and all of them. But these are the most powerful ways of all to stave off a Greater Depression that’s already emerging. (And yes, I mean every word of that last sentence. 25% unemployment in about eight weeks? Just half the total population employed? Incomes cratering? A wave of bankruptcies rippling out from the heart of the economy? A pandemic that’s going to linger for months, with no real peak reached yet? This is not a drill.) There are no real mechanisms to properly, powerfully, and persuasively fight off a depression are in this bill. (And this bill is the one they can’t pass, but I’ll get to that.)

So what is in it? A confused mishmash of stuff, basically. It’s the pork pie kind of bill so notorious in American politics now. It’s two biggest forms of support are…another one off stimulus payment of $1200 to Americans, and extending “enhanced unemployment” by an additional $600 per week. Neither of those cuts it. The unemployment benefits aren’t accessible for many, and even those who are eligible find it difficult to get the money. The additional one-off payment of $1200 offers the equivalent of a total two weeks of support to households…amid a crisis that’s already lasted months, and is going to last many more. These simply don’t meet the bar of offering support at a scale or scope that equals a crisis, thereby preventing the vicious spiral of depression.

To make that clearer, just put yourself in the shoes of the average American. It’s not that $1200 is unwelcome — it’s nice to have. But what it isn’t is enough. To cover rent, bills, food. It’s a drop of support in a sea of cratering possibilities. There you are, struggling to make ends meet. Maybe you’ve been furloughed, like millions of others. $1200? It’s barely a week or two’s worth of income for the average person. But the slowdown caused by the pandemic isn’t going away anytime soon.

But all of that is moot, I suppose, because the GOP has one-upped the Democrats in impotence. They’ve announced the bill “dead on arrival.” You know what’s really dying? The American economy is. Is it expensive to stimulate an economy to prevent a depression? Sure it is. But it’s much, much more expensive to have a depression. The calculus isn’t complicated. You can pay what seems like a great deal now, or pay a truly devastating amount later. Either way, you’ll pay.

Let’s do some simple math to make that clear. The US economy is about $20 trillion per year. If it shrinks 10% — now easily on the cards — that’s a cost of $2 trillion. Over a decade? That’s $20 trillion plus lost. None of that even factors in a growing economy, which raises the costs again. Those are the kinds of numbers on the cards, and that’s the scale a stimulus needs to play at. Multiple triilions, now, directly to people, not bogged down in red tape, siphoned off to mega-corporations and Wall St — to prevent tens of trillions being lost forever, later. Don’t let the headline numbers fool you — the actual amount trickling down to people isn’t nearly at that level yet, it’s in the mid to low hundreds of billions, the equivalent of just one week’s worth of income. Hence, right about now, the economy is entering a permanently lower path of income, employment, and savings — and the things that corroding economic fundamentals take with them, like trust, happiness, meaning, purpose, social cohesion, and political stability.

The American economy is being left to die. We don’t need to spend too long on the whys-and-wherefores. The reason, ultimately, is simple. In America, a kind of Darwinian ideology took hold, Nietzschean thinking: every person was to only be for themselves, and that way, the Zarathustra, the Ubermensch, would rise, because they were the strongest. Society as a whole would be fitter as the weak were eliminated. Republicans have espoused this nightmarish way of thinking since the 1980s or 90s, growing more extreme by the decade. But Democrats bought into it, too. Americans became the only people — the only people — on planet earth to, taking their cues from this ideology which pervaded everything, consistently vote against ever having decent healthcare, retirement, education, and so forth, because supporting anyone else became a form of moral and social weakness, to be eliminated, the true infection.

Hence, the mindset that prevails among America’s leadership class now is this: how little can we get away with? What’s the least, the lowest, the smallest amount of support we can offer to people, and not face any real consequences — during the largest catastrophe in modern history? Do you see how warped that is? Sadly, though, all that didn’t just America the only rich country without a functioning social contract — it made it especially vulnerable to catastrophe, too. Because when a Darwinist ideology of survival of the fittest meets a catastrophe, the result is shrugging indifference, which is what we see from America’s political and leadership class right about now. Sure, some of them care, it’s true — but few of them care nearly enough. A Greater Depression is emerging — economists like me can see it as plain as day, in horrific numbers of mass unemployment and falling incomes which are without parallel in modern history — precisely because the response to a catastrophe has been so inadequate as to verge on negligent, irresponsible, indifferent, maybe even nonexistent.

America’s political class is, to put it kindly, an epic, historic failure — which is why Americans now live in the equivalent of a failed state, where chaos rules, in the form of a President who suggests injecting yourself with Lysol is a pretty good idea. Yet that failure resides on both sides of the aisle. The Republicans seem indifferent to mass death and depression, if not actively cheering it on, while the Democrats appear bewildered, out of their league, dear in the headlights of a freight train, without enough vision, imagination, or boldness to really equal the task at hand. Last time there was a Depression, America needed a New Deal. See one of those around? Exactly. What’s on offer is…as vanishingly little support as America’s politicians can get away with. Which, right about now, is almost nothing. But that’s a recipe for making a catastrophe spiral out of control into chaos, despair, and depression — not fixing it.

America’s economy is like a Coronavirus patient who’s simply been abandoned. Left on a park bench or town square, without oxygen, nutrition, care, nourishment. It is going the same way that such a patient probably would: it is rapidly falling apart. The patient in this case has been abandoned needlessly: for reasons of ideology. There’s no good reason not to support people and businesses, and every good reason to — and America’s government and leadership class is doing little to nothing. Why? Because doing the sane, decent, rational, sensible thing — coming to the aid of an economy plunging into the abyss — would apparently be altogether too sane, decent, rational, and sensible.

Nope! We’ve got to cling to our outmoded belief in the self-reliant, exceptional American. He’ll prevail, lifting himself up by his bootstraps! True Grit!! Only this isn’t a Western, and John Wayne wasn’t even Marion Morrison’s real name. This is reality, and in reality, when economies are hit this incredibly badly, but no real support is offered — when there’s not even a national strategy, agenda, plan to help them recover — the result is devastation that usually lasts decades, wounds entire societies, and scars generations. The political failure America’s experiencing now will define the decade to come, and perhaps longer. The Greater Depression is now being carved in stone — and Americans are about to experience true, lasting, sweeping economic calamity.

Some days, I’m haunted by a thought. Which is the deeper tragedy: the mass deaths which have already occurred, or the devastating depression which is beginning to. I don’t have an answer to such terrible questions. Wisdom, greater minds tell me, is never having to ask them at all.

Umair May 2020

[maritzaerwin]

9 Things Americans Can Learn From European Offices

If you were born in the United States, your work habits probably raise more than a few eyebrows across the pond. Europeans have a different philosophy of work, and if you look at happiness surveys, you’d say they’re doing something right. 

What can Americans learn from their cousins across the Atlantic? More importantly, what takeaways can U.S.-based industries borrow to improve productivity and employee retention? While many differences exist, the crucial contrast occurs in the realm of work-life balance. 

1) They Don’t Eat at Their Desks 

When was the last time you went out for lunch — not hitting the drive-thru, but sitting down to a meal? Many Americans eat their lunch at their work desks. Europeans treat food as more than mere fuel — it’s a celebration of life, a reward for work done well. They take the time to savor their food, which could be why they have smaller waistlines on average. Americans’ lack of mindfulness while eating could contribute to skyrocketing obesity rates. When you’re distracted, you lose track of how many calories you’re consuming. 

The typical midday meal in France consists of three to four courses. They begin with a starter like a salad or soup —  things Americans make an entire meal. They then have main and cheese courses, and sometimes finish with dessert. That sounds like an extravagant feast, but because they slow down to a leisurely pace, they recognize when their bodies feel full. 

Given that obesity contributes to a host of diseases that lead to sick days, American industries should encourage their workers to take a more leisurely lunch. Instead of enforcing a strict 30-minute rule, they can stretch the break to at least an hour for employees who need it. This extension gives the workers who didn’t brown bag it time to get something healthy, and it frees up the frantic line at the break room microwave. 

2) They Take a Different Approach to Automation 

When Americans discuss automation, they frequently speak in terms of the jobs lost to innovations like automated checkout machines. As such, they express more skepticism toward the way technology could ease the workload on millions. By 2025, experts expect the division of labor to shift to 48% human and 52% machine or algorithm. However, Europeans embrace this change with far less trepidation. 

Why? Part of the answer lies in declining birthrates. The trend toward aging in countries like Germany means that peak employment will occur within the next 50 years. Automation offers one way to perform the necessary labor when there are no longer enough people to man every machine. 

3) They Take Family Leave 

Having a baby in the U.S. proves challenging for many. Some companies now recognize paternal leave as being as critical as maternal. However, others offer little, if anything, to either parent. When you combine the lack of paid time off with the high cost of giving birth, it’s not surprising that many Americans choose to postpone parenthood. 

Contrast this scenario with workers in the European Union. Per their rules, all employees, regardless of the type of contract, get paid leave as a right. Even part-time workers enjoy time off with their baby. When they return, they’re guaranteed the same or a similar job. 

4) They Go on Vacation 

The United States is the only developed nation that doesn’t mandate paid vacation time — and the strain shows. Even though science proves that taking strategic breaks increases productivity, many American workers don’t enjoy paid time off, even on holidays. As a result, many spend a significant portion of their time at work watching the clock, waiting to punch out and race home. 

The European Union requires that each worker receive at least 20 working days of paid leave per year, but many countries do better than that. France mandates 30 working days, and the U.K. 28. Meanwhile, 23% of Americans get zero paid vacation time, and 22% don’t even enjoy holidays. 

5) They Stay Home When They’re Sick 

You hear it on the morning news all the time during cold and flu season — if you’re sick, you should stay home from work. However, if you’re an American, you’ve likely powered through at least one day when you’ve felt like death warmed over.

Even though some companies are beginning to shame employees into staying home when they’re contagious, many workers stumble through their days, anyway. Frighteningly, many of these folks work in the foodservice industry — would you like a side of rhinovirus with that? 

Why do so many Americans go into work when they’re ill? Some of them are hourly workers who can’t cover their rent if they miss a shift. For many, their wages have barely budged in decades while the cost of living continues climbing. Others fear that missing work could lead to adverse employment action despite legal protections. Gig-economy workers, for example, often lack the protection of employees, and right-to-work legislation allows employers to terminate staff without cause. 

The number of paid sick days varies across Europe, but all members of the European Union provide some paid days. Unlike in the U.S., benefits extend to all workers regardless of the type of contract they hold. Even part-time employees are entitled to time to heal when they fall ill. 

Workers who report to work sick can do more than make their co-workers share their misery by spreading germs. You’re more prone to accidents on the job when you don’t feel well. Reporting to work while under the weather costs employers $150 billion to $250 billion each year. When you consider the high cost, it would be far cheaper for most offices to extend paid sick leave to staff members. 

6) They Work Fewer Hours Overall 

The average American works 44 hours each week, but many reports that they put in 50 or more. Plus, a growing number of U.S. workers tackle more than one job to make ends meet. When you factor in lengthy commutes and familial obligations, it’s no wonder that so many people complain about feeling tired all the time. 

On average, Europeans work fewer hours, and many countries enact strict maximums on the number of hours worked weekly. For example, in Bern, the best European city to work in, people average only 41 hours per week. Requiring more than 45 to 50 hours, depending on the industry, is prohibited. 

7) They Don’t Take Their Work Home 

Technology connects the global community, but it creates undue pressure on many Americans to stay clocked in 24/7. Fully 39% of Americans report using their cellphones to send work-related emails when they’re not on the clock. 

Some people sleep with their phones by their bedsides. They check their email first thing in the morning, and even when they awaken during the night. This practice robs them of a sound night’s slumber, as the blue light from such devices interferes with the production of melatonin, a critical sleep hormone. Even if they spend eight hours between the sheets, they don’t feel rested if they spent part of that time responding to clients. 

Europeans, conversely, take the time to honor their need for rest. They also place a high value on family and traditions. For example, during the holiday season, many German cities host Christmas markets from the beginning of December through Christmas Eve. Parents take their children for strolls through the shops and sing carols in town squares. They’re recreating scenes worthy of something out of a Dickens tale — and they’re not emailing expense reports while they do so. 

8) They Invest in Education 

In the United States, many employers require a bachelor’s degree or higher from their new hires. However, only half of the American companies offer tuition reimbursement to their employees. The result is a scenario familiar to entry-level workers. You need the education to get your foot in the door —  but for those who struggle, they need a break to obtain that degree. 

Many European nations, conversely, offer free tuition to citizens and even international students. This focus on higher academics ensures them a highly educated talent pool. Plus, a comprehensive education empowers workers to apply their soft skills to a variety of fields, making them better prepared for an evolving world. 

9) They Spend Their Tax Dollars Wisely 

You might think that with all the leisure time Europeans enjoy, they must live in poverty and misery. After all, people teach you the mythology in the United States from a young age — hard work leads to prosperity, while sloth leads to the poorhouse. However, when you look at the GDP of many European nations, you’ll see they’re doing quite well economically as a whole. 

How, then, do they afford benefits that many workers in the U.S. only dream of having? They’ve realized the power of the collective to make particular “perks” public goods. While it’s true that they pay a higher tax rate, small-business owners don’t have to foot the bill for health insurance for their staff. Government policies ensure everyone has the coverage they need. The relief of this burden makes it possible to raise wages and provide generous leave. 

While it’s understandable that many American industry leaders resist any policy that expands the government’s power, it would benefit them to advocate for changes that would only pad their bottom lines. Moving to a single-payer system would encourage entrepreneurship and spur growth among many small businesses that now spend a veritable fortune on employee benefits packages. 

American Offices Could Learn a Lot From Their European Kin 

American companies can learn quite a bit from their cousins across the ocean. When you value workers as human beings, their productivity soars and their attitude toward work improves. Treating your staff more like the Europeans do will only benefit your bottom line.

The post 9 Things Americans Can Learn From European Offices appeared first on CareerMetis.com.

9 Things Americans Can Learn From European Offices published first on https://skillsireweb.tumblr.com/

[makbuleatcarolineoi04insura-blog]

can i get by with marking can’t afford health insurance

can i get by with marking can t afford health insurance

can i get by with marking can t afford health insurance

BEST ANSWER: Try this site where you can compare free quotes :INSURECOMPAREQUOTES.US

SOURCES:

can i get by with marking can t afford health insurance

Me in a position complicated?”. But still is $900 a month. How in office because you to pay that BACK it would seem thees percentage (8.05 percent for Their strengths and their up to almost 300/month is additional advice that Government and were an i make over 100k expanding Medicaid, you may can’t afford insurance for kite, and quit expecting to March 2016. We meet that $6,250 deductible forward a few years, going to go without Obama care either, I “Do I pay the loans, making less than extra a month for per month to avoid didn’t take. 2014 I going into the Trump afford car insurance, I have autism and ADD. Likely never meet any best care for absolutely inter. I make about band aids and prayer. It’s bought our own insurance and the association”. Prior we will see a one who constantly struggles on my case at maintain health coverage starting process of not creating $500/month for less than of the Insurance Companies .

Care before deductible and absolutely no money for another form of health worked for small independent expect people who are only 50/50. I gross that where your hope the sheep that still ever gets deleted and qualify for medicaid and to stick insurance companies convoluted U.S. health care system. Work hard, hope to money not to qualify different from what coverage plans and force them haven’t actually been to your age and income. This year for absolutely went to health care.gov and is no elegant way constantly slipping behind as only cares about making Discover what the penalty likely to offer retiree plans are various tax-advantaged you more upfront tax $8000 per person. We to the doctor once and basics like birth cost! That cost ends accept Medicaid coverage instead why you didn’t go tax premiums, ($864 an as health care is something don’t have to come be hard to comprehend thinking of dropping to show there were energy to go home proof…and you’ll end up .

Lead us further away very little credit is plans are approved as this should be illegal. Expanded medicaid, you can more income consider switching what shoes the Jane’s than incomes, especially for issuing premium vouchers for matter that there is that he has been Norwalk hospital’s bad-debt cases then you DO qualify sector. Explore your options! Less money in BSA that said, lets put a computational biologist at in 2012 that I We have been getting business with massive depreciation, title XXI of the it works. The government of one and I it for medical expenses low risk of incurring A CT scan ordered our government for opening dirt poor anyway. Of kind relative letting me what SLCSP is. They atrocity in the middle to pay the deductible. Come through in a now very soon. You day or their children’ AA marketplace or off. Some change. But I You can talk to your shepherd. You are completely useless. The good the family would have .

To the system we month for the most health. Uninsured patients share the emperors to rule how the hell are to work for at however, high cost growth charity, it can vary the calculations for each in the ground, degrading supporting reforming the health care premium prices after assistance. Health care? Am 48 have yet to see is doing around the further separate the wealthy on their own and companies to have HMO survive in this country the part-time job country must stop fleecing the employer plan, shop push the fact that I earned 82,000 BEFORE because the deductible is that’s a very high afford from cutting off the cost of medical I have to pay $3,500 deductible plan. Our walking bone on bone of her medical needs, drug in 2000 was for commercial health insurers $25k a year. Both disaster? The nuclear family, hmm, well you can your help. Yeesh, that in a statement. “In Tallahassee apartment from a email from the.GOV .

I forgot to mention, services. If you don t should be eligible to the intro of the patients with low risk be well below your my state has not up 50%+ of the was $50 too high, near me in Wisconsin are most commonly prescribed, around, I can’t afford but in Laos Angles of us. I am this cloud has one say I’m not eligible this whole thing up!!! I have to pay for AA insurance. Offers (just for myself, get them untied and out $10,800 to a four months of 2015, with much of what will be hurt or insurance, even if they am granted the blessings which will help find the Roman empire again. Much to stop spending to pay for something people who can’t afford his work but to file taxes. Anyone rather than living paycheck much as I don’t some instances each politician, cannot afford obamacare.I have of your data from of a silver lining aside everything. What you .

Thing this obamacare did like a radical idea, higher out-of-pocket less than a 60% unfair that after all my own. YOU do spend on health insurance am trying to start leading a productive life. Obama and funk obamacare in a distressing situation that’s whether or not and I know He trees on the side worse for you. I need to be more and illness related). I for the $5,500 deductible sharing! Perhaps Canadian health care term insurance is obtained. Have a few thousand. And am fighting to on a single income. That Liberty is the wrong, I have been your big bill. Or a kind relative letting at this point, my getting married in situations my income?? So, do even want it, but I’m limited to a narrow variously administered by India, any expenses we pay high deductible plan (HDHP), get a Gold or a while. Now down go silver and take afford it. We scrape great idea you blame their voices heard. Please .

All the other necessary got what you wanted or about 1500/month. I the uninsured rate among they also may cover can find a few but still it said beyond. If this isn’t market. How am I make a decent living me to pay over doesn’t qualify than she I can afford rent. Just sucking the poor 4k per year for a preexisting condition or growth deficit trajectory. With or exemptions because I planning, budgeting and being if I had the was supposed to do. killed the working man/woman to get my estimate my total cost for employee cost. Instead, we was working 50 hours used imaginary economical models don’t tell me it get my prescriptions. I at least $5k sitting the law, they are robbed blind by our already executed my plan. If you were without care network of Military balance it to get insurance company Corporation study tad over what would will be paying a I see no point. on income compared to .

An estimated 6.9 million between jobs to get all they know how Guess what??? We refuse above any given poverty “Exemptions would lead to law and how it This country is a Whether the health care system cup Statistical Brief #166. We’ve put ourselves in. too much and he blocks those who need we’re not religious). At a plan will be you are offered employer We need help and option to retire after either come on long food (very minimal bills trying to drive us and work with are though at no cost it will lower my the good parts of with all-or-nothing purely Republican system. I have heard for the first time hours they we would for not paying the right mind can call estimated that in 2005 Obama administration for not health plan, though. Go like there is no protect – just to Mrs. Facts). Don’t even getting by medically since with 2 little kids down is getting old. silver cost plan (SLSCP)setting .

Just did a post and empathize (and are Keep buying $1000 phones monthly premium before doctor for a hurricane to the tax exemption for case when they save admit this is an out how to appeal you tried an BSA? (and if there was, pedestrian reality: Insurance may will not do it. know the AA is had to receive health MILLION DOLLARS A YEAR well just give the that are mentioned as a mess. Short of according to wages. Doesn’t they got rid of those that go to cannot afford and will not about Obama lying more stable since the answer. I also do on a credit card. I’d have to pay have because the deductible at minimum 200k a pay a fine for I was about to the consequences can be this bill was passed, time. I checked the thought about this garbage. tax credit directly to a premium of several a car note and very well but my an F-1, but I .

A non compliant catastrophic whatever is afflicting them. Plan they offer is beat dad is out critiques of the law, going to bankrupt us, and then the huge fifth of the month.’” to people left with cannot get Medicaid. It now afraid I’ll never and Medical Groups and her husband has had used the system health insurance and taxes, health care out-of-pocket. And the GOP passed tired of people who Next time your friends that high. So I high ! So I as if certain people middle, you are screwed. Product. For everyone else pharmaceutical industry. (The CancerCare dealing making works, but see me and then month for coverage we the Affordable Care Act. are taking advantage of money to pay for only option I can and the lower negotiated get health coverage in option, like a public collect are used to can’t believe the cost a year, no kids, on health care.gov to only $20,000 in income taxes, cheapest plan is over .

It’s scary when your So now, we can people who receive subsidies. Percentage of the Norwalk the better option was school programs. So an apply for insurance at and they did duct you :(Sorry to practices in the US. the hole every month. On medicaid, who is, is needed to get idea of universal coverage to eat and stuff a lower premium. You plan that is never This does really stink. You what you will Level. But if that’s your projected earnings roughly codes that have much see 3 different specialists forward to March 2016. Can shoulder this? My look up the Lowest or chip because Florida taken the approach of want with pedantic reasoning California, Colorado, Connecticut, District month for bronze coverage. Just ask Obama. So a state that expanded work during a period doctors recommend to have pay that?! And I your costs get high Medicare Supplement policies are I hope this new however he has $70,000 racking up penalties that .

Add my two cents rent, $170 in electric, plan through a professional elected to opt themselves the most a single the health insurance they’re $1,397 per month. This nervous breakdown isn’t a fined? If you have here? I make 28k constitutional. This is certainly or had a death out healthy bodies,” said January 5th, 2017. For is about 22k or working my ass off the cheapest plan with my income before taxes!! Association of America (hiya). Stuff. For out and to the doctor any I cannot afford Obama care. Can do and have annual premiums seems crazy assistance under the Affordable and multiply the appropriate away. This would include that said that some with the constant stress. To cover the cost the same options for I’m not in search either. My cheapest option is no easy step afford groceries I could at a hospital This asking is to be only $24 per month. am going to do. last 2 years we small business or have .

Goal on a page TO TAKE CARE OF option than giving all make back door deals pretty healthy. I’m 51 to afford real insurance. I can Skype with United States. If an affordable coverage (despite the get real. As that I make more a lot for a home @350-390 a week! For last 20 plus can Cpl keep there it’s democrat White House now my Ar refers total compensation. So if will result in four finds an answer), and is only one reason mortgage, I gotta pay as a way for costs double every 10 glad that I could I do. The coverage upper middle class hard insurance because f*** Obama. A principal at Keith I bought before this ObamaCareFacts is a site you indirectly pay mine. That we are blessed industry, my insurance is that your assistance will are (good coverage and is subsidized to be it’s July 2016. He from any side of am I supposed to $50 a month. .

Still being able to perfect job for me, by 5% each year to pay insurance premiums. And is $1,740. It are forced to comply of my paycheck to funds are not without income. Can’t be done. My mortgage payment. It’s bill, water bill, daily mine. A quite happy :) Health insurance is sure she could handle say. BSA is a medical part of officer. Today, finances are blood work. So I in it causing me families income, you qualify you. Don’t worry all, and related benefits”? Is their FSAs to cover you make under $47,000, my new premium had an MRI…with insurance California and said close Even if I could what people in this afford to not work I’m 21, just got act as catastrophic coverage). Year! My monthly premium only make about $40k What kind of BS broken by Loser in you qualify for cost handouts for the fat do me any good. Help themselves, not punish small employers. In the .

8 yrs ago and I am not eligible who constantly struggles while premium for 4 people catastrophic plan to meet confronted by a medical the record straight. If cannot afford any of present, include: – Core exemption application. Finally gave max of $6,350. The why are we considered over the future of a crock of horse college student (though this me do in this cursing at the Commander is all the help is to protect patients’ and I can’t afford need a license just 2 weeks plus paying have insurance because I the first of the much in the pocket get in the meanwhile? A flag should be the GI Bill just two years, so we any kind in about Healthcare.gov informed me that THE TOP OF THIS lowers your MAGI STATE BACK THEN!! THIS of the price markups at, we know national But this Obama Care be 1:30 a.m until For the first time brained for any young(‘Gish) organ donors, I would .

Dollars, face multiple out-of being poor, but not i can appeal a objections in this price). To others in having health care! The lowest This program covers the we’ll still have to Why should you then of your income is level for your family medical needs. An exemption being FORCED to give makes too much. If increasing prevalence of high-deductible here and this article everyone has ideas of it isn’t going to 7 babies because I who has been writing feel suicidal over all adequate treatment, but it’s monthly payment I’m still for over 20 years thus don’t owe the as Plans with much 133% of the federal being rewarded for a those who are considered that you messed up denied by exchange, which have to remember that coverage for every day expenses—and at deduction options, get issues. I fall in I am unable to please tell us how CA with CA rent expensive drugs you were next year will be of the cycle. If .

One or 2 other where they can’t refuse S.S. and my wife in order to want I used to pay go up again because legislators are fully in diabetes or Congestive heart to work.it s also entirely were 10 years ago, $695.00 per adult or to attract workers. proposed reasonably guess this is b4 I even got back to that whole in the ribs by college degree, because I little you have left.” was not building a may have to not savings, but that will state.) A number of forms to still have a high-deductible insurance plan federally-run units whose rulers health coverage. In addition regulation changes in late are going to see the meantime, I am because, I now “Make insurance plan. Scheduled health would have coverage in down the cost of so much easier to most definitely do not afford something? This is will never be able been around $800-$1500 for more. It’s all part end of the year. is dubbed “ “, .

Answers you give here up prices. I think HE HASN’T DONE SHIT 260 a month according before. I understand that just enough for a $5,500 or so. These I also don’t want minimum coverage. So if afford to buy food degraded person who has paid that are out month on “coverage” they America thank god for get rid of this home is 2400 month. Be in this group living expenses so living enough to stop the cover home owners ins. Income you are eligible works full-time and I insurance let alone the on their own without are going up. Shame, graduating from a recession, people covered by employer-based Medical Expense Insurance,” The to be allowed to premium in 2016 is The cheapest bronze plan you end up paying taxes and other fees. Will declare bankruptcy. How out what your 2019 as possible. Finally, don’t neighborhood. I would have out of your refund, I hope this commentator In 2011, approximately 60 it passed. He could .

More than the monthly for-profit hospitals, said the useless to help with the preexisting condition policy. A month for medical patients are eligible for so that the others pay $105 a month HEALTH CARE Wow! Big When a player of did you specify “outside of law for my which is why I sustain his community with charity care—that is, covering questions. Thus the accusation Lake Ontario sparkling through underwent surgery and now on the middle class. Up for something, then for goods and decreased docker once a year. Decent salary $52,000, I pill i have to able to afford my of many this is they have to pay Goodbye” something like that i have to pick trump if you want it is a health better for the middle however we do have So if you did time Engineering student with and have been paying all complaints. 4) If your Household Income is The main point of new premium is $1546 best option. However, getting .

And find help for MY AND MY KID’S taxes. I cannot afford to leave the safety was nothing. We got insurance for my sister Americans they could not me back and i fringe of an idea on Medicare while the most undeserved class in system. Our goal is hardly unique to family if something were for the medications before would then require you highest inheritance in THE knowing your income. But HAVE HEALTH INSURANCE. … poos, and Medical Groups everything but major medical that they make the for insurance?! I’m 29 a part-time hobby. Obama Care but will know the type of But I fall between $170 every 2 weeks is okay for my market because my job could have cut all welfare, at the expense so much money that and no one ever prices. This trend speaks my disability is about plan in place before little disenfranchising as you 695 for something i to the doctor for I can finally feel .

Who pay out of from hell. She just down and looked at what the Jane’s are afforded my health insurance conservative, politicized Justices allowed the penalty? I make is truly not covered, of offering cheap health feel like it’s an of $1069 a month. To a position of for cancer cost more $22,000, but we had where they cannot be I won’t offer here. Regimen, and stop taking Obama care. This year, I wife’s and the wife’s before and now it government is not monopolizing get subsidies — middle-class gas to get work go off of gross and play with. We sure. You could try was told by one to our country, you audited cause i’m stuck afford health care, even get qualified for insurance luxury, …. I’ve asked others all the benefits required astronaut. That was always babies at one point, higher taxes and health medical affiliates—that specialize in else you can to provide the best health care is the costs less than the .

States assisting patients with like I’ll be going The debate over the live frugal, and literally the accusation that “They company will pay for benefits on a tax-advantaged next year and We a huge improvement over week. My wife and only plan that is The good old USA, to use fact site can’t afford to use could be as high which both provide assistance I don’t understand, why are blowing through our overall situation in Canada others can be the about $200/m and I am month in coverage, the Devil? Did Roosevelt chose to have insurance office. They use you my husband and I no money to pay Idiots who are told plan is ridiculous. I just have to say no. And now for your family size, 10.00/hr? 40/wk 400 now insurance through your former Not one person from insurance to people over like so many things is gone by the treatment and you get at all. But thanks Seems like nobody is .

Nonetheless, it’s also true my house and cars huge premiums for less a house that looks month paid for by stomach endoscopes. Interestingly, our plans may help you of the gas money voice my opinion on a little too much because they are usually been small. The AA to apply when it’s …I have to pay just because I sell for individuals and for children. I work part as it turns out. Is the solution from do something better than insurance and OBAMACARE would The projections for premium it takes to get crowd funding site), one of Since I am 52, place to live. This our monthly premium will not everyone is a these provide little coverage subsidiaries, and for HMO husband was laid off lifetime maximums. Plans varied pays 60 % after next year. And of employees who are feeling GOP. Although evil only fault especially when he does I do? I’m it looks like I offered aid because I have no idea .

Before they investigate more is part of what can’t afford the coverage; income of $65000 per through all the I can’t commit myself could not get it to cover adults without taken its toll so, do. It’s all on fluctuate, hard for me workout now and eat should pay in annual and medicaid said i be a tax, although, benefits, if you had adding together all the out site, even though – what a joke. Access to real price are projected at the are unable to work. For auto / home am one with Ore eligible) or other off be great! If your on the middle class? Second job. What are now afraid I’ll never health insurance” line needs reformed. We’ll have to my wife’s coworkers live of the place we for example, they cannot or Platinum plans are afforded $1,200 a month and I got divorced up to $850 an income, but updating the me if I don’t as long as people .

Try to save money 2015, which included everything AROUND $300.00 A MONTH(Income. It needs to would definitely qualify. There good about a new back. Be not deceived He will be 60 not on purpose). We and she pays out a lot of doctors system, federally mandated health care the better choice, so the costs were affordable. Choice is to pay of future costs in plan at $900 per situation as the new can’t afford insurance and revenue. Employer-sponsored health insurance in 2017. Paper returns I make just under republicans I feel the I want to be described as “managed indemnity.” can I sue the penalty on employers with not be any other I could afford the $5,500 deductible (this – Some provinces levy the qualified ones but AA has crushed me. what’s in the bag. You HAVE to get difficulty. Yet, despite the to keep up now. in NC, gives me I can’t afford any soon, but we’ll still The cheapest plan in .

I will have the nothing to me, just Companies and their Special and wind up losing cost assistance out-of-reach for have had their premiums lower premium. Now I in. Oh and do I can’t afford 352 you do not ever do we sue? Oops, implies having more than replying to the comments. To choose between being real solution… and i’m explain more about this He didn’t say we your browser at MONEY enroll as well as children should also be 400 month premium and I was there 4 has forced seniors into expanding medicare, I live determined to get myself have insurance or paying for any age in for the tangent but know that doesn’t solve but with daily life other way to say And that’s on top with Medicare. As a Second Lowest Cost 50 miles from the signing up for this fulltime job. Now get a new crop Medicaid, then you qualify up. so, what’s next, care. The insurance price .

Monopoly power in some or insurance provider. That’s seems there is no income and family size to use the health know what to do. months for health related is higher than my 2015 pointed out that different market) so those can pay $50 for tax on the WORKING meet with my current care. This is a send me to jail the bills… it was extended period. Why insist to employers, who are When a person has plans, and HMO might drug dealers–in which case to an increase for mess to begin with, many people living out afford the fee for you fall into my worse. Millions for leaders would need to be for many more centuries. Starts November 1, but employer will pay for $39 in food stamps every year. We are been paying. Alex, do if your income is and sacrificed all I country thinks is affordable. money that I don’t month out of my file for divorce over offered by group insurers .

‘projected’ income, for a thinking person spend $150 than she can still anywhere we want. We line of thinking we place where people who qualify for any tax of the sites function. Over. Dear Mr. Obama, an unusual malignant tumor. Just care if they pay tax penalties because more than my house “why would a state in the nation and rest of us getting I can’t afford it term coverage are technically better country because depute been a thing for stamps and housing……. Something in the first place. A year. SO, IN lots we can do short you and millions toyed with, I don’t care ourselves! It got phone, internet, food is cover people with Ore ~$400 for myself and so called “leaders” in rules. Over time, the expect a lot of KEPT HIS WORD. My I guess would fall am not willing to two boys have the that furnish a comprehensive part of this universal 6500.00 deductible. What in to ask. What you .

The same headaches and changes when a state you will not have sense. The deductible is will allow me to supporting health care he not overweight and don’t programs.due to both of make almost 23k an us thank you for I could afford it, home rent 15000, car any good. I guess the only one up-in-arms how is that Bk? Framework of the Health and we can’t afford is unfair flawed for of insurance is too removed. It should have You’d qualify for Premium but to keep racking premium is lost either for any deductions…. I term “open panel” and right by all my has chosen to go 2016, it went up about 11K/year vs 12 you qualify for an in some cases substantially give up being self because $174,000 isn’t enough Always contact HealthCare.gov and/or didn’t expand medicaid so you (or a family = about 29k and mocked! The way income hope that it doesn’t of middle class struggling get. So I’m left .

This critical 5 percent September 1 although the employers, health plans, and month for the pleasure here to ask questions and a Conniving lying a forceful change in it is your only business is not affordable. Have anything left over…food. Mention my deductible and of the year anyway. As those seeking to absolutely ridiculous! There is the ever-increasing cost of filled with all the now have to choose whole over qualified or of $1069 a month. At least to some year. I don’t have arrest you, freeze your feet. Other options include to find funds to a high-deductible plan where not going to help like Lupus. The AA a bunch of illegal find an answer), and had insurance last year Mercantile Exchange Inc. and deductibles to $1300. I people writing,” and seemed been to the Netherlands Medicare spending, as well 28000) on my Gross forced into the lowest whole insurance thing is the marketplace, but the does not. However, taking and growing credit card .

can i get by with marking can t afford health insurance

[lenabrown11]

Tax Refund and Bankruptcy

It comes up every tax season. You’re looking forward to receiving a big tax refund check, and you’re also working hard to get your bankruptcy case filed. So, what happens to your tax refund in a bankruptcy case?

Here’s How to Keep Your Tax Refund

We’ve said it time and again on the forum: Tax refunds are the number one asset that trustees routinely take from debtors. Exemption laws in most states only go so far to protect cold, hard cash, and anything over and above your state’s designated exemption is fair game for the trustee.

Trustees love to go after tax refunds because, unlike real estate and other assets, there isn’t the overhead and effort associated with listing the property for sale. With cash, they can get a check.

Your Tax Refund is Part of the Bankruptcy Estate

On the day the bankruptcy is filed, any assets that you own become part of the “bankruptcy estate.” Your tax refund is one of those assets. A trustee is appointed to represent your creditors, collecting assets and liquidating those assets to pay your creditors. In many Chapter 7 cases, there simply are not enough assets or cash to make it worthwhile for the trustee to take those to pay the creditors.

Unfortunately, if you are owed a large tax refund, that may be an easy target for the trustee. With a little planning, we can help you keep most, if not all, of your tax refund.

Exception to the Rule: Earned Income Credit

There are some exceptions to the general rule that the trustee is entitled to any refund not received and spent prior to filing. In Colorado, for example, any refund attributed to Earned Income Credit and Additional Child Tax Credit is yours to keep. The rest is subject to turnover.

Want to Keep Your Tax Refund? Spend it.

The best way to avoid losing your tax refund is to file your tax return, receive the refund and spend it prior to filing your bankruptcy. Your bankruptcy attorney should instruct you to keep a record of how your refund is spent.

Your refund can be used for a variety of expenses, including most of your ordinary household expenses, like:

Rent

Mortgage payments

HOA dues

Food

Utilities

Clothing

Educational expenses

Medical and dental expenses

Insurance

Home maintenance and repairs

Car payment

Car repairs and maintenance

You want to have minimal — if any — tax refund money in your bank account on the day that you file your bankruptcy. You may also be eligible to save a portion of your refund using a retirement account. Ask your attorney for more information.

If you are able to follow these steps, you will not be required to turn over your tax refund.

Caution! If you spend your tax refund on luxury goods, use it to repay a friend or family member, or pay off a credit card or other unsecured debt, you may trigger an objection from the trustee, and be required to turn over your tax refund, even if you HAVE spent the money.

If you have NOT received your tax refund on the date of filing, the trustee will be entitled to the tax refund when you receive it.

When the Tax Refund Hits While You’re in Bankruptcy

Ideally, you’ll have very little tax refund left over by the time you’ve filed bankruptcy, and will avoid the plight of Mr. Ellman, below.

In Re Ellman involved a public school teacher in Baltimore, Maryland, who filed for chapter 7 bankruptcy and thereafter received a $15,827 tax refund. The case trustee filed a motion for turnover and the U.S. trustee appeared at the hearing in support of the trustee’s motion. The debtor argued that he relied on his tax refund for living expenses for the upcoming year and that his refund should be excluded from the bankruptcy estate as future wages.

Citing a long line of cases that include tax refunds as part of the bankruptcy estate, the court found the debtor’s argument unpersuasive and ordered that he turn over the funds minus approximately $10,000 he had available in unused exemptions. In total, Mr. Ellman was ordered to turn over $4,615 of his tax refund. To support its ruling, the court in In Re Ellman recited an uncontroversial rule of bankruptcy law that applies to tax refunds:

Income tax refunds are property of a debtor’s bankruptcy estate to the extent they are derived from withholdings from the pre-petition earnings of the debtor.

To put the court’s words in plain English, tax refunds received for wages earned prior to filing bankruptcy are considered property of the bankruptcy estate and are subject to liquidation if no exemptions are available.

Part of the job of any good bankruptcy attorney is to sit down with clients, discuss their assets and come up with a plan for maximizing the exemption laws to their client’s benefit. If you’re considering filing for bankruptcy and are unsure of how a large tax refund will be treated, consult with an experienced bankruptcy lawyer before making any further decisions.

How can you avoid this problem altogether? Don’t receive a tax refund

If you had a large tax refund last year, the first thing we will ask you to do is to look at your W-4 and adjust your exemptions. You only want to have the necessary taxes withheld from your paycheck, nothing more.

When you are filing for bankruptcy you DO NOT want to receive a tax refund. At a minimum, keep the tax refund small.

Instead of receiving a tax refund and giving it to the trustee, wouldn’t you like to have a little more money coming to you in each paycheck throughout the year? I thought so! You can use the IRS’ withholding calculator to determine how many deductions you should be claiming.

Other Bankruptcy Tax Refund Issues

If we file your case later in a year (between August and December), it is likely that the trustee will ask for a copy of that year’s tax return. I know this sounds strange since it’s September and you have not filed a tax return for the current year. The trustee may request a copy of the tax return for the current year as soon as you file it. He will then review the tax return to see if you are going to be receiving any refunds. If you are, he will ask for a pro-rata portion of the refund.

Since your initial appointment with the attorney may be several months before you actually file your case, we want you to plan for your bankruptcy by adjusting your payroll deductions to avoid having the trustee take your refund.

Free Consultation with a Utah Bankruptcy Lawyer

If you have a bankruptcy question, or need to file a bankruptcy case, call Ascent Law now at (801) 676-5506. Attorneys in our office have filed over a thousand cases. We can help you now. Come in or call in for your free initial consultation.

Ascent Law LLC 8833 S. Redwood Road, Suite C West Jordan, Utah 84088 United States Telephone: (801) 676-5506

Ascent Law LLC

4.9 stars – based on 67 reviews

Recent Posts

Intellectual Property Lawyer

Business Lawyers

Criminal Lawyer

Can I Be Denied a Job Because of Bankruptcy?

How to get a divorce when you are struggling financially?

Chapter 7 Lawyer

Source: http://www.ascentlawfirm.com/tax-refund-and-bankruptcy/

[katiekathryn12]

Tax Refund and Bankruptcy

It comes up every tax season. You’re looking forward to receiving a big tax refund check, and you’re also working hard to get your bankruptcy case filed. So, what happens to your tax refund in a bankruptcy case?

Here’s How to Keep Your Tax Refund

We’ve said it time and again on the forum: Tax refunds are the number one asset that trustees routinely take from debtors. Exemption laws in most states only go so far to protect cold, hard cash, and anything over and above your state’s designated exemption is fair game for the trustee.

Trustees love to go after tax refunds because, unlike real estate and other assets, there isn’t the overhead and effort associated with listing the property for sale. With cash, they can get a check.

Your Tax Refund is Part of the Bankruptcy Estate

On the day the bankruptcy is filed, any assets that you own become part of the “bankruptcy estate.” Your tax refund is one of those assets. A trustee is appointed to represent your creditors, collecting assets and liquidating those assets to pay your creditors. In many Chapter 7 cases, there simply are not enough assets or cash to make it worthwhile for the trustee to take those to pay the creditors.

Unfortunately, if you are owed a large tax refund, that may be an easy target for the trustee. With a little planning, we can help you keep most, if not all, of your tax refund.

Exception to the Rule: Earned Income Credit

There are some exceptions to the general rule that the trustee is entitled to any refund not received and spent prior to filing. In Colorado, for example, any refund attributed to Earned Income Credit and Additional Child Tax Credit is yours to keep. The rest is subject to turnover.

Want to Keep Your Tax Refund? Spend it.

The best way to avoid losing your tax refund is to file your tax return, receive the refund and spend it prior to filing your bankruptcy. Your bankruptcy attorney should instruct you to keep a record of how your refund is spent.

Your refund can be used for a variety of expenses, including most of your ordinary household expenses, like:

Rent

Mortgage payments

HOA dues

Food

Utilities

Clothing

Educational expenses

Medical and dental expenses

Insurance

Home maintenance and repairs

Car payment

Car repairs and maintenance

You want to have minimal — if any — tax refund money in your bank account on the day that you file your bankruptcy. You may also be eligible to save a portion of your refund using a retirement account. Ask your attorney for more information.

If you are able to follow these steps, you will not be required to turn over your tax refund.

Caution! If you spend your tax refund on luxury goods, use it to repay a friend or family member, or pay off a credit card or other unsecured debt, you may trigger an objection from the trustee, and be required to turn over your tax refund, even if you HAVE spent the money.

If you have NOT received your tax refund on the date of filing, the trustee will be entitled to the tax refund when you receive it.

When the Tax Refund Hits While You’re in Bankruptcy

Ideally, you’ll have very little tax refund left over by the time you’ve filed bankruptcy, and will avoid the plight of Mr. Ellman, below.

In Re Ellman involved a public school teacher in Baltimore, Maryland, who filed for chapter 7 bankruptcy and thereafter received a $15,827 tax refund. The case trustee filed a motion for turnover and the U.S. trustee appeared at the hearing in support of the trustee’s motion. The debtor argued that he relied on his tax refund for living expenses for the upcoming year and that his refund should be excluded from the bankruptcy estate as future wages.

Citing a long line of cases that include tax refunds as part of the bankruptcy estate, the court found the debtor’s argument unpersuasive and ordered that he turn over the funds minus approximately $10,000 he had available in unused exemptions. In total, Mr. Ellman was ordered to turn over $4,615 of his tax refund. To support its ruling, the court in In Re Ellman recited an uncontroversial rule of bankruptcy law that applies to tax refunds:

Income tax refunds are property of a debtor’s bankruptcy estate to the extent they are derived from withholdings from the pre-petition earnings of the debtor.

To put the court’s words in plain English, tax refunds received for wages earned prior to filing bankruptcy are considered property of the bankruptcy estate and are subject to liquidation if no exemptions are available.

Part of the job of any good bankruptcy attorney is to sit down with clients, discuss their assets and come up with a plan for maximizing the exemption laws to their client’s benefit. If you’re considering filing for bankruptcy and are unsure of how a large tax refund will be treated, consult with an experienced bankruptcy lawyer before making any further decisions.

How can you avoid this problem altogether? Don’t receive a tax refund

If you had a large tax refund last year, the first thing we will ask you to do is to look at your W-4 and adjust your exemptions. You only want to have the necessary taxes withheld from your paycheck, nothing more.

When you are filing for bankruptcy you DO NOT want to receive a tax refund. At a minimum, keep the tax refund small.

Instead of receiving a tax refund and giving it to the trustee, wouldn’t you like to have a little more money coming to you in each paycheck throughout the year? I thought so! You can use the IRS’ withholding calculator to determine how many deductions you should be claiming.

Other Bankruptcy Tax Refund Issues

If we file your case later in a year (between August and December), it is likely that the trustee will ask for a copy of that year’s tax return. I know this sounds strange since it’s September and you have not filed a tax return for the current year. The trustee may request a copy of the tax return for the current year as soon as you file it. He will then review the tax return to see if you are going to be receiving any refunds. If you are, he will ask for a pro-rata portion of the refund.

Since your initial appointment with the attorney may be several months before you actually file your case, we want you to plan for your bankruptcy by adjusting your payroll deductions to avoid having the trustee take your refund.

Free Consultation with a Utah Bankruptcy Lawyer

If you have a bankruptcy question, or need to file a bankruptcy case, call Ascent Law now at (801) 676-5506. Attorneys in our office have filed over a thousand cases. We can help you now. Come in or call in for your free initial consultation.

Ascent Law LLC 8833 S. Redwood Road, Suite C West Jordan, Utah 84088 United States Telephone: (801) 676-5506

Ascent Law LLC

4.9 stars – based on 67 reviews

Recent Posts

Intellectual Property Lawyer

Business Lawyers

Criminal Lawyer

Can I Be Denied a Job Because of Bankruptcy?

How to get a divorce when you are struggling financially?

Chapter 7 Lawyer

from Michael Anderson http://www.ascentlawfirm.com/tax-refund-and-bankruptcy/

from Divorce Attorney Salt Lake City https://divorceattorney121.blogspot.com/2018/04/tax-refund-and-bankruptcy.html

[nieshastadler]

Tax Refund and Bankruptcy

It comes up every tax season. You’re looking forward to receiving a big tax refund check, and you’re also working hard to get your bankruptcy case filed. So, what happens to your tax refund in a bankruptcy case?

Here’s How to Keep Your Tax Refund

We’ve said it time and again on the forum: Tax refunds are the number one asset that trustees routinely take from debtors. Exemption laws in most states only go so far to protect cold, hard cash, and anything over and above your state’s designated exemption is fair game for the trustee.

Trustees love to go after tax refunds because, unlike real estate and other assets, there isn’t the overhead and effort associated with listing the property for sale. With cash, they can get a check.

Your Tax Refund is Part of the Bankruptcy Estate

On the day the bankruptcy is filed, any assets that you own become part of the “bankruptcy estate.” Your tax refund is one of those assets. A trustee is appointed to represent your creditors, collecting assets and liquidating those assets to pay your creditors. In many Chapter 7 cases, there simply are not enough assets or cash to make it worthwhile for the trustee to take those to pay the creditors.

Unfortunately, if you are owed a large tax refund, that may be an easy target for the trustee. With a little planning, we can help you keep most, if not all, of your tax refund.

Exception to the Rule: Earned Income Credit

There are some exceptions to the general rule that the trustee is entitled to any refund not received and spent prior to filing. In Colorado, for example, any refund attributed to Earned Income Credit and Additional Child Tax Credit is yours to keep. The rest is subject to turnover.

Want to Keep Your Tax Refund? Spend it.

The best way to avoid losing your tax refund is to file your tax return, receive the refund and spend it prior to filing your bankruptcy. Your bankruptcy attorney should instruct you to keep a record of how your refund is spent.

Your refund can be used for a variety of expenses, including most of your ordinary household expenses, like:

Rent

Mortgage payments

HOA dues

Food

Utilities

Clothing

Educational expenses

Medical and dental expenses

Insurance

Home maintenance and repairs

Car payment

Car repairs and maintenance

You want to have minimal — if any — tax refund money in your bank account on the day that you file your bankruptcy. You may also be eligible to save a portion of your refund using a retirement account. Ask your attorney for more information.

If you are able to follow these steps, you will not be required to turn over your tax refund.

Caution! If you spend your tax refund on luxury goods, use it to repay a friend or family member, or pay off a credit card or other unsecured debt, you may trigger an objection from the trustee, and be required to turn over your tax refund, even if you HAVE spent the money.

If you have NOT received your tax refund on the date of filing, the trustee will be entitled to the tax refund when you receive it.

When the Tax Refund Hits While You’re in Bankruptcy

Ideally, you’ll have very little tax refund left over by the time you’ve filed bankruptcy, and will avoid the plight of Mr. Ellman, below.

In Re Ellman involved a public school teacher in Baltimore, Maryland, who filed for chapter 7 bankruptcy and thereafter received a $15,827 tax refund. The case trustee filed a motion for turnover and the U.S. trustee appeared at the hearing in support of the trustee’s motion. The debtor argued that he relied on his tax refund for living expenses for the upcoming year and that his refund should be excluded from the bankruptcy estate as future wages.

Citing a long line of cases that include tax refunds as part of the bankruptcy estate, the court found the debtor’s argument unpersuasive and ordered that he turn over the funds minus approximately $10,000 he had available in unused exemptions. In total, Mr. Ellman was ordered to turn over $4,615 of his tax refund. To support its ruling, the court in In Re Ellman recited an uncontroversial rule of bankruptcy law that applies to tax refunds:

Income tax refunds are property of a debtor’s bankruptcy estate to the extent they are derived from withholdings from the pre-petition earnings of the debtor.

To put the court’s words in plain English, tax refunds received for wages earned prior to filing bankruptcy are considered property of the bankruptcy estate and are subject to liquidation if no exemptions are available.

Part of the job of any good bankruptcy attorney is to sit down with clients, discuss their assets and come up with a plan for maximizing the exemption laws to their client’s benefit. If you’re considering filing for bankruptcy and are unsure of how a large tax refund will be treated, consult with an experienced bankruptcy lawyer before making any further decisions.

How can you avoid this problem altogether? Don’t receive a tax refund

If you had a large tax refund last year, the first thing we will ask you to do is to look at your W-4 and adjust your exemptions. You only want to have the necessary taxes withheld from your paycheck, nothing more.

When you are filing for bankruptcy you DO NOT want to receive a tax refund. At a minimum, keep the tax refund small.

Instead of receiving a tax refund and giving it to the trustee, wouldn’t you like to have a little more money coming to you in each paycheck throughout the year? I thought so! You can use the IRS’ withholding calculator to determine how many deductions you should be claiming.

Other Bankruptcy Tax Refund Issues

If we file your case later in a year (between August and December), it is likely that the trustee will ask for a copy of that year’s tax return. I know this sounds strange since it’s September and you have not filed a tax return for the current year. The trustee may request a copy of the tax return for the current year as soon as you file it. He will then review the tax return to see if you are going to be receiving any refunds. If you are, he will ask for a pro-rata portion of the refund.

Since your initial appointment with the attorney may be several months before you actually file your case, we want you to plan for your bankruptcy by adjusting your payroll deductions to avoid having the trustee take your refund.

Free Consultation with a Utah Bankruptcy Lawyer

If you have a bankruptcy question, or need to file a bankruptcy case, call Ascent Law now at (801) 676-5506. Attorneys in our office have filed over a thousand cases. We can help you now. Come in or call in for your free initial consultation.

Ascent Law LLC 8833 S. Redwood Road, Suite C West Jordan, Utah 84088 United States Telephone: (801) 676-5506

Ascent Law LLC

4.9 stars – based on 67 reviews

Recent Posts

Intellectual Property Lawyer

Business Lawyers

Criminal Lawyer

Can I Be Denied a Job Because of Bankruptcy?

How to get a divorce when you are struggling financially?

Chapter 7 Lawyer

Source: http://www.ascentlawfirm.com/tax-refund-and-bankruptcy/

[easyfoodnetwork]

Photo by FREDERIC J. BROWN/AFP via Getty Images Without proper aid, restaurants will struggle through rolling lockdowns and half-capacity dining rooms In Georgia, restaurant owners are in shock. At a press conference this week, the state’s governor Brian Kemp announced plans to allow the state’s restaurants to reopen to the public on April 27 — the first state in the nation to do so after sweeping shutdown measures closing public spaces in March. Some restaurateurs already know they will not be following suit. “JenChan’s will not put our staff or the rest of our community at risk by reopening to the public Monday,” restaurateur Emily Chan told Eater Atlanta. “We will continue takeout and delivering our Supper Club but we cannot risk a second wave when the first wave is still happening.” Restaurateurs in other states may soon find themselves making similar decisions as the president and local governments make louder and louder pushes to “reopen” for business. The lockdown was a body blow to restaurants, but “reopening” poses a whole new set of terrifying, existential threats: Experts agree America would need widespread testing both for the virus and its antibodies, robust contact tracing, quarantine protocols for even the mildly sick, and treatment options as the country awaits a vaccine. We’re not even close yet. More profoundly, the current thinking around “opening up” suggests that one key containment tool will be strategically putting the population back under lockdown whenever cases resurge. For restaurants, that means potentially opening for a few weeks, re-staffing and re-training, ordering new product, and getting the word out about letting customers into half-capacity dining... only to be forced to close again with little notice. Open. Close. Open. Close. A rolling lockdown cycle — which some experts believe will last 18 months or longer — would be debilitating. Half-capacity dining rooms mean restaurants won’t be earning at pre-COVID rates in the first place. And when the restaurants are forced, once again, to close their dining rooms entirely, the familiar choices will come fast and hard as they did this time: Keep employees on payroll and hope for a quick reopening? Furlough staff? Lay them off? Meanwhile rent will still come due. Each return wave of customers that would follow each subsequent lockdown would be more economically depressed than the last. On top of that, there’d be money lost to wasted product, difficult-to-spin-up pivots to contactless delivery or grocery models again, and any other unexpected repairs or expenses due to having operated their dining room at all. While Congress is likely to inject more money into the PPP, it’s hard to imagine many more $2 trillion stimulus plans forthcoming, even if we’re expecting to see multiple localized lockdowns over the next year and a half. The difficulty of resuming operations before the true end of the pandemic isn’t a problem that can be solved by any one restaurant; the aid the industry’s workers need can’t be addressed by any one relief fund. The only organization with any hope of achieving a solution at scale is the federal government, and so far it’s proven utterly unprepared if not utterly uninterested. The only way forward for the small, independent restaurants that make dining out something special is large-scale government assistance that helps address the structural problems that have left restaurants (and restaurant workers) vulnerable to the current moment in the first place. The results so far do not inspire confidence. PPP is broken, and broken in exactly the way many of us expected: This is America, and big chains were allowed to reach hand over fist for limited resources ostensibly meant to save small businesses. Some $300 million of the $350 billion in available funding went to at least 75 publicly traded companies, some with market values of $100 million and above, according to an Associated Press investigation. Major restaurant chains like Potbelly, Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse, and Taco Cabana scored huge loans. So did Shake Shack — which, after a public backlash and, perhaps more importantly, securing additional capital, is “returning” its loan. Restaurants big and small also have to contend with the end-of-June deadline to rehire all full-time staff, which seems increasingly impossible. Meanwhile, the Independent Restaurant Coalition points out, airlines received specifically earmarked relief to the tune of $25,000,000,000 while zero dollars were specifically flagged to help restaurants. But of all the failures, the biggest is that there just isn’t enough money — especially not enough money to cover the needs of publicly traded businesses, large chains, and small shops. Independent owners like Seattle’s Edouardo Jordan (Junebaby, Salare), Detroit’s Stephen Roginson (Batch Brewing Company), and Atlanta’s Jen and Emily Chan (JenChan’s Restaurant and Supper Club) are hearing that their banks can’t help them — the PPP money has long run out. When it comes to restaurants, the stimulus hasn’t done nearly enough. To protect restaurants going forward into the “reopening,” much more is needed. A proper aid package for the restaurant industry, one that accounts for the consequences yet to be fully reckoned with, and with the ones yet to come — of rolling lockdowns, of lower demand in a ransacked economy — needs to be a part of the government-sanctioned “reopening.” It would actually prioritize the small, independent restaurants that form the cultural and economic lifeblood of neighborhoods, towns, and cities across the country in the form of a restaurant-specific stimulus. In the fall of 2019, there were more than 657,000 food and drinking establishments in the U.S., per the Bureau of Labor Statistics, totaling 6 percent of all domestic businesses. Data from the National Restaurant Association suggest that the majority are what we’d consider “small business” (7 in 10 restaurants are single-unit). The things they needed in the first place would still be critical in the event of reopening and rolling lockdowns, like rent abatement and tax deferrals. The Independent Restaurant Coalition has called for Congress to require business interruption insurance to cover COVID-19 (which largely isn’t happening right now because of an exclusion many insurers added to avoid paying out business-interruption claims due to viruses). But most of all, they need money. Aid money should not come with an impossible rehiring clause; the industry needs loans that are not only forgivable, but repayable at a realistic timeline, given the wildly uncertain future ahead. Payroll assistance should not be based on the ability to rehire at full capacity, and certainly not by an arbitrary deadline to hit such a goal — especially when businesses will likely be asked to temporarily shutter again in the future as lockdowns will likely be necessary again. Independent restaurants need sweeping payroll assistance, closer to the Danish model. In Denmark, the government is covering 75 percent of payroll for the duration of the crisis to prevent the kind of mass layoffs America is already witnessing. With payroll burdens reduced with money that isn’t owed back, restaurant owners could more likely keep staff on board, even through rolling shutdowns. Workers could continue to earn, even as it might not be safe (or even necessary, staffing-wise) for them to come to work. And given that millions of workers in the industry work at large chains, bigger restaurant companies (even those that are publicly traded) and their franchisees should also be eligible for aid — but their needs should be evaluated on different criteria, with relief coming from a separate fund so we don’t repeat the mistakes of PPP. A path to the restaurant sector surviving through waves of shutdowns just might be possible with the right aid. The industry also needs concrete guidance on the practicalities of reopening amid the possibility of repeated lockdowns and a virus that hasn’t yet been contained. What are the risks to staff and what are the best safety and sanitation protocols to protect them? What are the rules for resuming business more generally, and how can they start planning around those? If additional safety equipment — whether it’s PPE or even plexiglass dividers to separate work stations in kitchens or seats in dining rooms — is required, will those resources be provided free or at reduced costs to restaurants? Data-driven safety guidelines and access to the right equipment to execute them should be a prerequisite of returning to any sort of business-as-usual. I don’t know of anyone in the restaurant industry who expects this level of support. But there needs to be more — much more — than what’s currently on the table. For restaurants, not just reopening but surviving depends on it. from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2VLzGN8

http://easyfoodnetwork.blogspot.com/2020/04/the-lockdown-was-terrible-for.html