#and putting my discomfort in this review would be like going to a restaurant and seeing steak on the menu and going 'umm how dare you i dont

[kim-bobbae]

54. “I made reservations.”

I miss him so much and I hope he’s resting up, I just want to take care of him and be his comfort person TT

“To be really honest, I have no idea what he’s busy with until I see a recording or photoshoot of his on my schedule, and then I’m summoned to do his hair and makeup,” You laughed. “At this point I think it’s a relief he renewed his contract with AOMG instead of signing with H1GHR, don’t you think?” 

“I’m right, he really is the dad that’s never home,” Wonjae chuckled, tugging lower on his beanie. 

You were in the car on the way back to the AOMG headquarters after Wonjae’s photoshoot where Pumkin had dropped by in support since it was his first ever solo shoot for W magazine when the topic of Jay came about as you guys discussed the responses received from the interview they had done that was uploaded just a few days ago. With how busy Jay had been and how rare it was to see him around at the AOMG headquarters, their questions on what he had been up to very naturally fell on you because who else would know better if not for his girlfriend, right? 

Wrong. You had absolutely no idea either. 

Yes, there was the H1GHR compilation – you knew that much – but so did everyone else. The fact that you didn’t know much more than that surprised them, to say the least. 

“Do you want me to nag at him a little and drop him a hint or two? I could do that,” Pumkin offered. 

“Oh please no, I don’t think he’ll be too pleased if he finds out I’m whining about him to you guys behind his back.” 

“Not exactly, we’re the ones asking you about him,” Wonjae rebutted. 

“Yeah, when was the last time you guys went on a date?” Pumkin asked. “Don’t count the ones where you guys order delivery from the office or his studio, those aren’t counted.” 

“Why not? Those are dates…” 

“I see where the problem lies now,” Wonjae snickered. 

“C’mon, you guys are making this a bigger deal than it actually is,” You remarked. “We’ve been dating for years now, we’re past that.” 

A few days passed since then with nothing really out of the ordinary except for a dinner with your friends that you’ve managed to fit into your schedule after clearing an important deadline. With a couple of music releases coming up, you were attending meetings with different artists, talking to them about their ideas and concepts, proposing hairstyles, make up and clothing that would be suitable for their music videos and teaser images. 

While the job did sound manageable, the very act of browsing endless collections of the latest fashion releases was extremely time consuming, and squeezing in a short conversation or two with Jay via text message was, in fact, pretty much the norm these days with the both of you being so busy. Not that you minded – you just got used to it. 

And so did he. 

You understood though, really. You understood that he was a busy man and while you were important to him, he simply could not afford to put you in the center of his world. But he tried, and he did all he could to show you that. Yet, with that workaholic nature of his and all the people he had to put on for, work would always be his priority. 

It was just hard facing up to it last week when you tried your luck at getting some affection by cuddling up to him while he was reviewing some tracks during the ten minute window that the both of you were left alone in the studio – you couldn’t help it, it’s been a whole month (!!!) – only to earn a ‘I’m working, babe’ in a tone you don’t usually appreciate. He apologized, of course, realizing that he had hurt your feelings from the way you retreated quietly to another room, but it did enough to keep you from attempting it again for the remainder of the week. 

“Dinner tonight?” 

A message notification flashed across your screen. It was Jay. 

You didn’t think much of it though and readily agreed to it. For a split second, you wondered if Pumkin had a part to play in this and the smirk on his face as the receptionist walked in to the office towards you with a bouquet of roses in hand only confirmed your suspicions. 

“Looks like someone sent you flowers,” She said, handing it to you. 

Now Jay wasn’t really one who’d be into these flashy, romantic gestures, especially in front of his employees, and the number of heads that turned towards your direction with knowing smiles on their faces made you understand exactly why. 

Take a longer lunch break to get ready if you need to, I’ll be at the office at 7pm to pick you up.

You raised a brow at the formalities as you read the message on the card. Having been together for years, being on the receiving end of this somewhat grand gesture all of a sudden needed some getting use to again but with everyone’s attention on you and the extremely elaborate bouquet, you quickly set is aside, an embarrassed smile the best you could muster in response to their reactions before you got back to work. 

Consumed by your pile of work, you had completely lost track of time since then but it wasn’t hard to tell that it was already 7pm from the way your colleagues peeped curiously from behind their desk dividers, stifling their excited giggles and from their reaction you could already guess that Jay was here. It wasn’t every day that they could catch a glimpse of their boss’s love life, after all. 

“Ready to go?” He asked, and what ensued was a moment of confusion the second you turned around to face him. 

He was all cleaned up in a black tee shirt and dress pants, hair styled back and you were pretty sure those were some new shoes from his two hundred deep sneaker collection while there you were, in a pair of skinny jeans and oversized sweater and it was obvious that you guys weren’t dressed for the same occasion. 

You hesitated, “…last minute schedule to attend to?”

“No…I’m taking you for dinner?” He mused, gesturing to the flowers. “I made reservations.” 

“Yeah but…you didn’t tell me that I had to get dressed up,” You replied sheepishly. 

“I did,” He laughed. “You just didn’t take me seriously.” 

“You said ‘if you need to’,” You argued in a hush whisper. “Plus, the last time you picked me up we had tacos at the diner just down the street.” 

For a while he stared at you, and so did everyone else and in all honesty, it was getting slightly embarrassing by now. Thankfully, Jay caught on your discomfort from the way you played with your fingers and bit on your lips as you waited for his reply. 

“It’s okay, we’ll sort this out,” He reassured in a soft voice, grabbing the bouquet in one hand and yours in the other. “Let’s go.” 

“Where are we going…?” You asked once the both of you were in the car. 

The fact that one of his managers wasn’t driving you guys and that he was instead driving his Bentley for the first time in ages did explain something about what he had planned but for now, everything about this made you nervous. This was so unlike him – excluding the first year of your relationship, that is. 

“We’re going to your favorite Italian restaurant,” He explained. “But I guess we should drop by your place to get you dressed up first, huh?” 

“Sorry about that,” You murmured, and he couldn’t help but titter at the way you stared down at your outfit with a sigh. 

You wasted no time and tossed your bag aside upon reaching home, making a beeline towards your wardrobe and immediately started sieving through your dresses. Despite the rough start, you had to admit that this was rather exciting. Heck, you couldn’t even remember the last time the both of you had a proper date night and the fact that he had taken the time to plan this amidst his schedule? Damn you were about to dress the hell up. 

You hastily put on the dress that you had picked out, a fairly new one from the few that you had saved up for rare occasions like these, then scurried to the living room where Jay was waiting. 

However, the sight of Jay burying his face in his hands looking absolutely worn had you somewhat stopping in your tracks. 

He was seated on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his lap as he squinted at his cracked phone screen. His brows furrowed as he tapped away at what sounded like a new message notification, then brought his phone up to his ears as he listened to what probably was a demo of one of the tracks off the album. Sure, he was dressed up, absolutely stunning, but how stressed he looked was definitely not a good look on him and at this point you weren’t sure how you’d feel about dinner if his mind was going to be miles away, back in his studio. 

“Wow,” He beamed upon noticing you then set his phone aside as he stood up. “You look beautiful.” 

“I could say the same for you, too.” 

“You okay?” He asked, cocking his head upon noticing that you seemed to be distracted in thought. 

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Come here, let me help you with that,” He smiled, noticing that the back of your dress was unzipped. 

But as he placed his hand on the zipper, you reached around to tug on his fingers, then turned around to face him. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Why don’t…we just have dinner at home today?” You suggested, observing his reaction carefully. 

“Why the sudden change of mind...?” 

“I don’t know,” You sighed. “I mean, you seem really caught up with work, and I love that you took the time to plan a date, but I’m not sure if I can sit through that pretending that I am not seeing for myself how exhausted you are.” 

“No, no it’s fine,” He insisted. “I’m taking the night off to spend it with you.” 

The both of you glanced at his phone as it beeped again and then back at each other, and you could almost tell how he was already itching to respond to it. 

“I’ll cook us dinner, and we can postpone this date until after the album is released,” You told him. 

He looked at you, not quite sure if he was allowed to give in to you, especially after the little episode in his studio last week that had also been due to his work. 

“I’m not mad, I promise,” You giggled, reading him like a book. “Let’s stay in tonight.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, go get your MacBook from the car and carry on with your work while I cook but all I ask for though...” You started. “Is for your undivided attention after that. I’ll cook a stew if it gives you more time.” 

He exhaled deeply, taking a step towards you and pulled you in for a long embrace, “How do you always manage to make me feel better even though I’m the one who screwed up?” 

“You didn’t screw up,” You said, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. “You tried, and I appreciate that.” 

“That makes me feel worse...” He replied, cupping your face and stroking your left cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, smiling, “It’s no big deal, this is just one of your busy phases. Once the album’s released, I’ll have my boyfriend back. Easy.” 

“I’ll make up for it, alright? I promise,” He said, then leaned in to kiss you sweetly. 

“Seems like the only way to get kisses nowadays is to let you work, huh?” You taunted. 

“Baby…” He whined, the littlest pout creeping to his lips. “Let’s not go back there.” 

“I was kidding,” You sniggered. “Now give me another one to shut me up.”

#Jay Park #park jaebum #park jaebeom #jay park scenarios #jay park drabbles #AOMG #aomg scenarios #aomg reactions #khh #khh scenarios #khh imagines #khh reactions #100 ways to say i love you

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Seventeen

Previous Chapter Here

Warnings: Strong language and an air of discomfort.

Notes: I hope this reads OK as it’s quite dialogue-heavy.

Tags: @kelbabyblue @jennmurawski13

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

The night shifts weren’t all bad. From time to time, they were even as good as “pretty straight forward”. They proved especially useful when trying to finish patient notes and random admin that always got left to the very end of the shift. Perhaps they’d endure a tidy-out of the stock cupboards if the crew was feeling generous. Since O’Brien had taken up his post at the hospital years earlier, he had insisted upon mandatory training updates for the ER units every three to four months (the national average was about once a year) so the team were regularly reminded not to set fire to their computers and not to leave boxes in places people could trip over. You’d be surprised how often both those things happened in an emerging crisis. 

“I swear he thinks we’re idiots half the time.” Complained Jack, his head now glued to the palm of his hand. Jack was hurtling towards an early retirement thanks to an ever-increasing distrust of the corporate environment ER departments found themselves in. We trained to save lives, he’d say, not file stat reports. He was so right, it hurt. 

The crew was sat round the reception desk. The ER was empty except for a local homeless man the team allowed in from time to time to sleep off his latest drunken adventures. 

“Who doesn’t know how to bend their knees when lifting something heavy?” Jack asked again. 

“Ryan for one.” Sarah joked, pointing her cold cup of tea towards the fellow nurse in question. Ryan was a tall and skinny guy, not dissimilar to Alexander Skarsgard in the right light but with less charm although he had left a few of the interns swooning of late. Shanna quite liked him, too. 

“One time, Sarah. One time and I suffered for it greatly.” Ryan remarked, spinning a full 360 in his swivel chair. “Did you tick ‘agree’ or ‘strongly agree’ for question eleven?” 

“Oh, if you don’t tick ‘strongly agree’ even if you only ‘agree’, they mark you down a couple of percentage points.” Entered Audrey, slamming down a pile of files on the desk beside Sarah. Their nightly routine just got more interesting. “Just get it over with. It’s not worth the effort. It’s just O’Brien being obsessed with stats again. He turns everything into a competition. I swear it’s unhealthy.”

Ryan looked momentarily confused before returning to face his computer screen. He re-read the question for the fifth time and rubbed his eyes in resignation. Something about 3am made this far too complicated. 

“When did you even find time to do this, Aud?” Jack asked, turning back to Sarah and Audrey in time to witness their shared look self-satisfaction. “I’ve been sat here for half an hour and am still only part way through the first section.” 

“I logged in at home earlier.” she responded before catching Sarah’s quizzical look. “Well, Michael did most of it for me.” 

“Fucking hell!” exclaimed Jack, chucking his pen on the table, giving up. “Got no chance then, have I? Michael’s a bloody genius. Hey, how much for him to do mine?” 

“Normally I’d say $100 but he’s pretty cheap these days.” shrugged Audrey. “Probably a fancy cigar would do.” 

“He still grumpy about the you-know-what?” whispered Sarah to her friend when the guys started joshing between themselves. 

Audrey leaned back on the desk beside her and took the mug from Sarah’s hands to take a sip, grimacing slightly at the sweetness. For some reason, Sarah had to have at least three sugars in her tea if she was drinking it post-midnight. It helped to keep her more alert apparently. She didn’t drink it like that at any other time of the day. “No more than usual. Seems like we’re both unlucky in that department at the moment.” 

Sarah smiled at her in acknowledgement, lips thin before biting the inside of her cheek. 

Following their last meet-up, Chris had been decidedly quiet. Too quiet almost. It was weird. He hadn’t messaged her. He hadn’t called or visited their apartment except to collect a parcel he had left. Sarah has been out for a run at the time and had felt silently glad to have missed him. He hadn’t updated his twitter and there had been multiple sports events occurring that would have guaranteed a humblebrag or five. Shanna had pledged to buy rib-eye steaks for a Saturday night meal during a Celtics game and he had cancelled at the last minute citing an interview he had conveniently forgotten. Even Audrey thought it was weird. If anything was guaranteed to get his attention and bring him out of whatever funk he was in, it was the promise of sports and a ‘Grade A’ barbeque. 

Shanna merely put it down to his laziness or him having something better turn up. Scott had started replacing Chris around their apartment, wanting to get some of his own distance from the tricky Zach situation and it helped her feel better knowing he was at least in touch with him if Shanna wasn’t. He was evidently still alive. 

Sarah decided to swap a couple of daytime stints to partner up with Audrey for the nights. She needed the comfort of working with a good friend to calm her down from whatever ledge her anxiety had placed her on. 

“You know that he’ll come back, right?” Audrey interrupted her thoughts. Maybe Sarah spoke too soon. “Haven’t you got that birthday thing for Lisa coming up?” 

That trip was a couple of weeks away yet. She was trying to bank some reasonable excuses but everything sounded lame in the cold light of day and Lisa was never going to accept her not coming as well. Surely things would have smoothed themselves out by then? 

“This won’t just fix itself, hun, you’ll need to speak to him eventually. And the sooner the better.” 

It was like Audrey had a hotline straight into Sarah’s psyche. It was unnerving at the best of times. Sarah knew she was right of course. It’s just, a little bit of distance would be a good thing, right? Even Chris himself had offered that advice from time to time, and stressing herself out at this point almost seemed counterintuitive. 

“I reckon you could go in an hour or so if you wanted.” Audrey offered, nudging her friend with her elbow to bring her back into the room. “It’s dead out there.”

“I hope not.” Sarah joked, trying to lighten the mood. “We’d be shit at our jobs if that was the case.” 

Audrey laughed for the first time since Sarah could remember that day. It was moments like this that reminded her of why she enjoyed working alongside her so much, and why she didn’t mind if it resulted in overtime. 

“You wanna take patient referrals while I take the EPRs?” 

“How can I refuse an offer like that?” Sarah picked up the dozen or so documents sat in front of her and grabbed the nearest chair. Audrey told her she’d put the kettle on and nudged the guys still glued to their screens. Ryan had pretty much given up logical thinking and was now ticking random boxes. Jack was cursing under his breath. O’Brien was going to be in for a real treat when he could finally tabulate the responses. 

It was nearing 6.20am when Sarah and Audrey finally packed up to go. Matt and Stephanie had just arrived to take over for the morning, bringing a fresh perspective for the day. There wasn’t much for them to catch up on so it should be a smooth few hours at least. Sarah even ran a mop through the staff locker room as an added gift – Steph was a notorious clean freak – nearly tripping Greg up in the process. 

He’d been on leave for the past fortnight and his hair was a little longer than she remembered. A five o’clock shadow graced the lower part of his face and it suited him more than she thought it would. He had kept up with the informal tie-less attire and he seemed to be, dare she it, enjoying himself. 

“God, I’m so sorry.” She held her hands up in a mock mea culpa. “I was just gonna put it away before heading out. It was a stupid place to leave it.” 

“Did you not take the Health and Safety refresher?” he joked, rebalancing himself and trying to play down the redness creeping into his cheeks from the embarrassment of temporarily losing his footing in front of her. 

“You gonna rat me out to O’Brien? ‘Cos you know as well as I do that he doesn’t need yet another reason to know he’s right.” She shifted the mop and bucket and placed them back in the supply closet before reaching for her bag again. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He moved passed her before turning to face her again. “Tell you the truth, I ghosted the last couple of tabs myself. Who knew there were so many ways to ask questions about standing in elevators?” 

Sarah rolled her eyes in acknowledgement. “Yeh. I can’t wait to have the team meeting when he realises we’ve all pretty much done the same thing. That’s gonna be fun. I might finally take some of my holiday.” 

“Yeh, good plan. Hey listen,” His words stopped her in her tracks, feet from the exit. “Um, I know it’s been a while but I was wondering if you might want to reschedule that tennis match some time? Or if not, we could get some dinner or something? There’s that new sushi place on Reagan Street. It’s meant to be really good if you fancy it?” 

She was indeed familiar with that very restaurant thanks to the glowing reviews she had been unable to avoid since it opened. Audrey had only mentioned it a mere thousand times in her presence. Word was that bookings were now months in advance so she wasn’t sure how Greg was hoping to find a table unless he wanted to make plans with her in November. Given the number of commitments he always appeared to have going on, it wouldn’t be completely outside the realm of possibility. 

“Wow, I thought that place was fully booked?” 

“Yeh, it is, but I went to college with one of the investors and he’s promised me a one-off.” 

Of course he did. Sarah bit her bottom lip to stop herself from chuckling out loud, imagining Audrey’s face when she would inevitably find out. To be honest, she was genuinely surprised he was still showing a minor interest in her. When she finally made eye contact with him, his earnestness was practically shining. Had he always had perfect skin?  

“Um…” That was a good start, she thought. 

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal if you’d rather not.” He helpfully pre-empted her awkward rejection but she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “I’ve been meaning to go is all and I knew you liked sushi and figured it might be fun? They have live Jazz on Sunday nights.” 

When did he find out she liked sushi? And live Jazz? Just how much had Audrey told him about her? 

Realising she probably looked perplexed, she shuffled her shoulder strap back up onto her shoulder and tried to relax the awkwardness setting in between them. It was still quiet and no one was within earshot that she could figure out of her peripheral vision. 

“It’s not you, Greg, I promise. It’s just, I’m not really looking to get into anything right now. With anyone. Plus, we work together and…I’m sorry. I hope that’s OK?” 

“Hey, look, I promise it won’t be awkward. There’s absolutely no expectations from me and if you change your mind, just let me know, yeh? I literally know no one else who likes Sashimi so I can’t waste my only chance to get a table.” He chuckled and she felt more at ease. 

“If it’s any consolation, I’m a pretty crap date.” She smiled at him as she edged herself down the hall, putting space between them both literally and figuratively. “You wouldn’t be missing out.” 

“Oh, I doubt that somehow.” He returned her smile. “I’m serious, though. Just let me know. Anytime. No expiration date.” 

And with that, she had been left dumbfounded by two men in the space of a single week. 

* 

It would have been easier to get the early morning bus home at this time, as tired as she was starting to feel. She hadn’t slept well in the last few days and she had a creeping nausea from the lack of proper rest. The walk and crisp, fresh air might do her some good. It was practically full daylight even at this hour, and it was sometimes fun to watch people on their own way to work, huffing along, trying not to drop their coffees. 

The out-of-town school bus passed her a few minutes out from her apartment and as she rounded the corner, she got this weird sense that someone was watching her. Another corner turned and she could see her building in the near distance. Still, she couldn’t shake it. She stopped, pretending to fumble for her phone in her pocket and turned around swiftly to see a sweaty Chris stop a few steps behind her. 

It took her a moment to register it was in fact him, his beard fuller and a Red Sox cap pulled down low over his eyes. He had sweats and sneakers on and looked like he was on a run. Honestly, if someone else had spotted him from this distance, they would have worried he was going to attack her. 

“Hey,” she said, turning to fully face him. “What are you doing out at this time?” 

He didn’t respond at first. He shuffled from one foot to the other before grounding himself and taking a couple of steps towards her. Again, he shuffled back a step like he was rethinking his move. She didn’t appreciate seeing him like this, so unsure of himself. 

“Five months out from filming some pre-shoots so figured I’d make a start.” He finally spoke. Not a really a smile but he at least sounded OK. 

“Cool.” She said, nodding back at him. “Um, I’m not sure if Shanna is awake yet but do you want to come inside for some water or coffee?” 

“Yeh, that’d be great. Thanks.” 

She turned to continue walking on. For a few long moments, he stayed walking slightly behind her. A couple more strides and he had decided to catch up. The last time it had taken this long to walk this same street, she had been so drunk she had narrowly avoided falling into her neighbour’s front garden. 

“Five months? You’re not that out of shape.” She tried to make a joke. It was the only thing she could think of. Audrey would be eye-rolling like a champ if she could see them now. 

Chris knew she was trying to make small talk now so he decided to indulge her. It was a fair response, he thought - he was doing OK - as he followed her up the stairs deliberately keeping two or three behind her in an effort to keep it casual. 

“Oh, y’know. I fluctuate pretty easily. A few pizzas here and there and it’s game over.” 

They walked into her kitchen and she had been right in assuming Shanna was still asleep. Unless she had awoken really early but that was highly unlikely, unless there was a sale at Ted Baker she didn’t know about. 

He lingered in the doorway while she searched the fridge for a bottle of water. Grabbing one from the back, she turned to hand it to him expecting him to be within an arm’s reach from her but he had been distracted by something down the hall before turning back to her. Gratefully, he accepted it and walked into the kitchen to take up his usual spot leaning against the counter. 

“Sorry, did you say you wanted a coffee?” She offered. 

“Nah, I’m good. Can’t really take caffeine until this afternoon.” 

“Sorry. I always forget how strict it is.” She apologised, offering him a sympathetic smile. 

He took a long swig from the bottle, not breaking eye contact from her. “No need to apologise. You OK? Night shift?” 

“Yeh. Pretty quiet, thankfully.” 

“I’ve always meant to ask but what is it like, a night shift? I can’t work out if it would be worse or not.” 

She understood what he meant and laughed. “It can go either way to be honest but it’s been quiet the last few nights. Nothing crazy. I caught up with some paperwork, so…” She shrugged again, acutely aware of how boring she must sound. 

He nodded at her. “Aren’t people supposed to be crazier in the summertime?” 

“Well, kids are around more and families tend to spend more time together, so…” 

The apartment was unnervingly quiet now which was weird. She could hear the uptake in traffic outside which provided some relief that perhaps he couldn’t hear her heart beating out of her chest. She could make out some small sweat patches on his hoodie and it did something to her that she wasn’t expecting. Shaking the thought from her head, she turned to switch the kettle off. 

“What?” He asked. 

She jerked her head back around to face him. “Huh?” 

“You were thinking of something. Your neck just went red.” He smiled, tilting his head at her and relishing the look of surprise making its way over her features, knowing he’d caught her out. 

That was news to her. She knew she had “tells” but a red neck was not usually one of them. How come no one had ever told her about this? 

“I can’t tell if you’re joking with me or not.” She inquired, playfully narrowing her eyes at him in an effort to lighten the mood. 

He shrugged a shoulder at her, a smirk starting to cross his fine features. Joshing with her was good. She’d take that. A small step in the right direction. 

“Sometimes, it’s really obvious. You get it when you’re embarrassed about something, or when you try to lie. I’d never really noticed it before, but...” He paused. His expression started to turn more thoughtful and she wished he’d just continue to make fun of her instead. 

“Guess I won’t be playing poker anytime soon.” She finished the thought for him. 

“Yeh, no, you’d be rubbish at that. Just terrible.” He took another swig from his bottle and waited for her to throw something at him. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

The room went quiet again. She stirred her mug of coffee and offered him another chance at one which he politely refused although his discipline was waning slightly now he could smell it. 

“So this is fine.” He said after a couple of minutes, nodding in a slightly exaggerated manner. He looked out of the kitchen window. “We can do this, right? No awkwardness. No embarrassment. Just normal, everyday conversation.” 

“’Course,” she nodded in agreement. 

“Start as we mean to go on, right?” 

She nodded again. This felt like a trap and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Chris had a knack for saying and doing two different things at the same time, an intimidating ability that often put people on edge if he thought it would serve his purpose, whatever that may be. Probably the actor in him. When you called him out, he would aggressively defend himself which only served to prove the point you were making in the first place. 

Scott was the only one, truly, who knew when it was happening. It had taken Sarah years to get to a similar position but now, she wasn’t sure she was remotely close to it. 

“It’s as good a starting point as any, I guess.” She shrugged again, sipping from her cup. 

“So there’s no need to ignore me then.”  

“I haven’t been ignoring you, have I?” 

“You tell me. I’m just pre-empting it is all. I’m just saying we can still interact, you and me, if we need to. Like, it doesn’t always have to be in social settings with other people around.” He took a final drink from his bottle and turned to locate the recycling pot stashed away in the corner. Even with a mundane task, he always looked cool doing it. 

“So don’t worry about it.” 

“Alright then. That’s good to know.” She shot him a raised eyebrow which he caught and returned with a sly smirk. “I’m just trying to be sensible. We have to get this right or else there’s no point.” 

“I know, I get that, too.” If he wasn’t attempting to be serious before, he was now. He had a hand on his hip and seemed to have grown a few inches in height. “What do you think I’m trying to say?” 

“I…think I’m on the backfoot again and it’s weird.” She held a hand up in defence. 

“Hey, I’m just doing what we agreed, OK? I’m just following your rules.” 

“They’re not rules.” She struggled to regulate the volume in her voice in case she disturbed Shanna. “And you’re making it sound like I’m controlling the situation when I’m not. We both agreed on this. There’s no point being difficult about it.” 

Was he being difficult? Yes. Obviously, he was. He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling but happy definitely wasn’t it. Things were out of sorts and he hadn’t been able to eat carbs or sugar for four days so the withdrawal symptoms certainly weren’t helping. He should go easier on her. She was doing the thinking for the both of them. He should learn to be more grateful for that. 

He scratched the back of his head and let out an audible sigh in frustration. “I’ll try harder, I promise. We’ve got that cabin thing coming up with Mom, so…I promise I’ll be good.” 

He imitated the scout salute and she smiled at him, a smile not quite reaching her eyes. 

* 

Another night shift and Audrey and was starting to get suspicious. No one willingly switched for a night shift. For one thing, there was a disproportionate amount of recovery time. A couple of night shifts often took in excess of a week to recover from; a week that a nurse definitely did not have to spare. 

“He been buggin’ you?” she asked, finally growing tired of the silence. 

“Who?” Sarah looked up from the cabinet. “No, not really. We haven’t really spoken.” 

“So why are you ignoring him?” 

“I’m not ignoring him! Why does everyone think that?” 

“Who’s everyone?” 

Crap. Audrey had her there. Sarah open and closed her mouth without a sound coming out. She took a breath. “He’s not bugging me. He’s not. I’m just trying to limit the times we’re in the same place at the same time.” 

“Huh, you’d think he would at least allow you to have peace in your own home.”  

“Well, to be fair, he hasn’t been around all that much, but…at least I don’t have to worry about him showing up unannounced. It’s stupid but I feel way more awkward about him than I thought I would. It’s like I can’t even stand to be under his gaze.” 

Audrey glanced at her friend, wishing she could offer some words of comfort. Even for someone as verbose as she normally was, she was finding it a struggle. Sarah wasn’t much looking for words of comfort at the given time either. She was all too aware of the predicament she was in and how much responsibility laid at her feet. In her mind, waiting it out was the only logical solution she could come up with. The only logical solution that didn’t require more conversations with someone who could feasibly run rings around her “theory” that if they just stayed apart for a little while, they would suddenly and magically forget about the past couple of months. 

They stayed filing documents in silence again, the air seemingly getting thicker. 

“You ever spoken with someone and it’s like they’re thinking the complete opposite of what’s coming out of their mouth?” Sarah huffed while shoving the cabinet drawer closed. 

“Not really. That person’s usually me.” 

“But why?” she asked. “Why can’t you just be normal?”  

“I mean, it’s not my go-to response of course. It’s normally reserved for occasions when I am trying to indulge someone because I know they’re talking bullshit. Like, when I know Mike has been gambling but he tries to deny it? It’s just easier to figure him out that way.” 

Sarah froze to the spot, looking at her friend. She breathed a heavy sigh and turned to lean back on the table behind her and crossed her arms. She stared at her shoes for a second. 

“Chris is a smart guy. I’ll give him that.” Audrey muttered loudly so she was sure Sarah could hear. 

“Give me something! I’m your friend here.” She implored her before chuckling to herself at Audrey’s face and her own apparent lack of self-awareness. 

“You know what I think? You’ve probably got withdrawal symptoms from the all the amazing sex you’ve had and now you’re sulking. I think you should get back on that horse and let him fuck you again. That’s what this is.” 

Sarah eyed her friend again. For once, she would love to hear someone tell her that she was right. “That’s really not helping, y’know.” 

“And this is?!” Audrey’s shriller tone cut through the dry air, smacking Sarah right in the face. “Honey, this isn’t healthy. You hiding out in the hospital and treating it like your own solace is not healthy at all. I love you but you are your own worst enemy.” 

“Alright, thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you for your unswerving efforts to be honest with me at all times and not, like a normal pal, be comforting in any way.” Sarah comically bowed to her friend before considering leaving the office. She would have followed through with the idea as well if it wasn’t for the cosy warmth of O’Brien’s office versus the coldness of the ER department thanks to a leaking pipe. “It’s difficult. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna fall out with you, Audrey.” 

Audrey just smiled at her. “I don’t know why you think you have to be the beacon of morality all the time, Sarah. Take a look around. No one else is. We all out here just trying to live our lives as best we can and a part of that is taking advantage of moments of happiness when we find them.” 

Something about what Audrey was saying did resonate with her but comparing two months of happiness with Chris to ten years with Shanna was not something she could in good conscience do. Shanna was her security blanket. She provided a comfort of living with someone with shared life experience, of knowing how little you thought about yourself because you were given up as a baby. Honestly, from the very first day they had met, Sarah felt lucky to know her. 

Yes, Shanna could be immature at times. Maybe a little selfish. She would often get carried away with trivial things and wasn’t the most reliable person, but what Sarah got in return was worth that and more. Her family enjoyed highlighting the maternal care Sarah would have to provide to someone who was seven months older than she was, but honestly it didn’t matter. 

Maybe this was one of the rare occasions where Audrey was wrong. 

Chris was a fling at best, Sarah told herself, when she was lying in bed struggling to fall asleep. When she was cold and missing his arms around her. They were both having shitty times and they both got something out of it. That was what Chris had said himself at the very beginning. 

Chris 08.15am: You home? Shanna said you were working late again 

It was like he knew she would be thinking about him. 

Chris 08.17am: I really dont want u ignoring me all the time. This is hard for me right now as well 

Fuck. 

Sarah 08.21am: I kno. I’m so sorry I made you feel like that :(

He didn’t respond. She thought she saw the tell-tale three dots of him writing something but nothing appeared. Giving up on sleep, she got up and headed into the kitchen. Shanna had left her some bacon in the fridge and a fresh bread bun on the side so she turned on the grill and set about making some coffee. 

She felt strangely awake for this time and the apartment was nice and warm from the bright sunshine streaming in from all corners. Maybe a run would help. Or a cold shower.  

Chris 08.44am: I wanna be honest with u but I dont think u want that 

Chris 08.45am: so what do i do?? 

Fuck knows. 

Chris 08.51am: Can I come over? 

Sarah 08.54am: that’s not a good idea 

Chris 08.55am: cos you know what will happen? 

Chris 08.56am: what does that tell you?? 

She was sure he was nursing some kind of hangover or, quite possibly, he was still a little bit drunk. There were two responses she could give, she figured. The first would be her usual denial and perhaps an excuse that she was busy or working later than planned. The second, and ultimately the one she opted for, was to agree with him. 

Sarah 09.05am: I know what it tells me. That’s why I’m saying you shouldn’t come over 

Another three dots followed. There was only so many times they could go around and around in circles and as much as Audrey’s words made sense to her, it felt like she had to make the effort to regain some normality. 

He didn’t respond. She stared at her phone for an age but nothing came through. Maybe he got the message? Maybe he had fallen asleep. She was both relieved and suspicious; Chris wasn’t someone who backed down from an argument when he thought he was right. He had said as much himself. 

She turned the grill off, having lost her appetite. A run might make more sense and could help clear her head. 

She couldn’t sit around waiting for Chris to make his next move. 

*

#Chris evans #chris evans fic #evans fic #fanfiction #clear the area #sarah bernette #chris evans x original female character

[urlology]

How Netflix Reinvented HR

https://hbr.org/2014/01/how-netflix-reinvented-hr

by

Patty McCord

From the January–February 2014 Issue

Sheryl Sandberg has called it one of the most important documents ever to come out of Silicon Valley. It’s been viewed more than 5 million times on the web. But when Reed Hastings and I (along with some colleagues) wrote a PowerPoint deck explaining how we shaped the culture and motivated performance at Netflix, where Hastings is CEO and I was chief talent officer from 1998 to 2012, we had no idea it would go viral. We realized that some of the talent management ideas we’d pioneered, such as the concept that workers should be allowed to take whatever vacation time they feel is appropriate, had been seen as a little crazy (at least until other companies started adopting them). But we were surprised that an unadorned set of 127 slides—no music, no animation—would become so influential.

Netflix culture slide deck

People find the Netflix approach to talent and culture compelling for a few reasons. The most obvious one is that Netflix has been really successful: During 2013 alone its stock more than tripled, it won three Emmy awards, and its U.S. subscriber base grew to nearly 29 million. All that aside, the approach is compelling because it derives from common sense. In this article I’ll go beyond the bullet points to describe five ideas that have defined the way Netflix attracts, retains, and manages talent. But first I’ll share two conversations I had with early employees, both of which helped shape our overall philosophy.

Crafting a Culture of Excellence

The first took place in late 2001. Netflix had been growing quickly: We’d reached about 120 employees and had been planning an IPO. But after the dot-com bubble burst and the 9/11 attacks occurred, things changed. It became clear that we needed to put the IPO on hold and lay off a third of our employees. It was brutal. Then, a bit unexpectedly, DVD players became the hot gift that Christmas. By early 2002 our DVD-by-mail subscription business was growing like crazy. Suddenly we had far more work to do, with 30% fewer employees.

One day I was talking with one of our best engineers, an employee I’ll call John. Before the layoffs, he’d managed three engineers, but now he was a one-man department working very long hours. I told John I hoped to hire some help for him soon. His response surprised me. “There’s no rush—I’m happier now,” he said. It turned out that the engineers we’d laid off weren’t spectacular—they were merely adequate. John realized that he’d spent too much time riding herd on them and fixing their mistakes. “I’ve learned that I’d rather work by myself than with subpar performers,” he said. His words echo in my mind whenever I describe the most basic element of Netflix’s talent philosophy: The best thing you can do for employees—a perk better than foosball or free sushi—is hire only “A” players to work alongside them. Excellent colleagues trump everything else.

The second conversation took place in 2002, a few months after our IPO. Laura, our bookkeeper, was bright, hardworking, and creative. She’d been very important to our early growth, having devised a system for accurately tracking movie rentals so that we could pay the correct royalties. But now, as a public company, we needed CPAs and other fully credentialed, deeply experienced accounting professionals—and Laura had only an associate’s degree from a community college. Despite her work ethic, her track record, and the fact that we all really liked her, her skills were no longer adequate. Some of us talked about jury-rigging a new role for her, but we decided that wouldn’t be right.

So I sat down with Laura and explained the situation—and said that in light of her spectacular service, we would give her a spectacular severance package. I’d braced myself for tears or histrionics, but Laura reacted well: She was sad to be leaving but recognized that the generous severance would let her regroup, retrain, and find a new career path. This incident helped us create the other vital element of our talent management philosophy: If we wanted only “A” players on our team, we had to be willing to let go of people whose skills no longer fit, no matter how valuable their contributions had once been. Out of fairness to such people—and, frankly, to help us overcome our discomfort with discharging them—we learned to offer rich severance packages.

With these two overarching principles in mind, we shaped our approach to talent using the five tenets below.

Hire, Reward, and Tolerate Only Fully Formed Adults

Over the years we learned that if we asked people to rely on logic and common sense instead of on formal policies, most of the time we would get better results, and at lower cost. If you’re careful to hire people who will put the company’s interests first, who understand and support the desire for a high-performance workplace, 97% of your employees will do the right thing. Most companies spend endless time and money writing and enforcing HR policies to deal with problems the other 3% might cause. Instead, we tried really hard to not hire those people, and we let them go if it turned out we’d made a hiring mistake.

Adultlike behavior means talking openly about issues with your boss, your colleagues, and your subordinates. It means recognizing that even in companies with reams of HR policies, those policies are frequently skirted as managers and their reports work out what makes sense on a case-by-case basis.

Let me offer two examples.

When Netflix launched, we had a standard paid-time-off policy: People got 10 vacation days, 10 holidays, and a few sick days. We used an honor system—employees kept track of the days they took off and let their managers know when they’d be out. After we went public, our auditors freaked. They said Sarbanes-Oxley mandated that we account for time off. We considered instituting a formal tracking system. But then Reed asked, “Are companies required to give time off? If not, can’t we just handle it informally and skip the accounting rigmarole?” I did some research and found that, indeed, no California law governed vacation time.

So instead of shifting to a formal system, we went in the opposite direction: Salaried employees were told to take whatever time they felt was appropriate. Bosses and employees were asked to work it out with one another. (Hourly workers in call centers and warehouses were given a more structured policy.) We did provide some guidance. If you worked in accounting or finance, you shouldn’t plan to be out during the beginning or the end of a quarter, because those were busy times. If you wanted 30 days off in a row, you needed to meet with HR. Senior leaders were urged to take vacations and to let people know about them—they were role models for the policy. (Most were happy to comply.) Some people worried about whether the system would be inconsistent—whether some bosses would allow tons of time off while others would be stingy. In general, I worried more about fairness than consistency, because the reality is that in any organization, the highest-performing and most valuable employees get more leeway.

The company’s expense policy is five words long: “Act in Netflix’s best interests.”

We also departed from a formal travel and expense policy and decided to simply require adultlike behavior there, too. The company’s expense policy is five words long: “Act in Netflix’s best interests.” In talking that through with employees, we said we expected them to spend company money frugally, as if it were their own. Eliminating a formal policy and forgoing expense account police shifted responsibility to frontline managers, where it belongs. It also reduced costs: Many large companies still use travel agents (and pay their fees) to book trips, as a way to enforce travel policies. They could save money by letting employees book their own trips online. Like most Netflix managers, I had to have conversations periodically with employees who ate at lavish restaurants (meals that would have been fine for sales or recruiting, but not for eating alone or with a Netflix colleague). We kept an eye on our IT guys, who were prone to buying a lot of gadgets. But overall we found that expense accounts are another area where if you create a clear expectation of responsible behavior, most employees will comply.

Tell the Truth About Performance

Many years ago we eliminated formal reviews. We had held them for a while but came to realize they didn’t make sense—they were too ritualistic and too infrequent. So we asked managers and employees to have conversations about performance as an organic part of their work. In many functions—sales, engineering, product development—it’s fairly obvious how well people are doing. (As companies develop better analytics to measure performance, this becomes even truer.) Building a bureaucracy and elaborate rituals around measuring performance usually doesn’t improve it.

Traditional corporate performance reviews are driven largely by fear of litigation. The theory is that if you want to get rid of someone, you need a paper trail documenting a history of poor achievement. At many companies, low performers are placed on “Performance Improvement Plans.” I detest PIPs. I think they’re fundamentally dishonest: They never accomplish what their name implies.

One Netflix manager requested a PIP for a quality assurance engineer named Maria, who had been hired to help develop our streaming service. The technology was new, and it was evolving very quickly. Maria’s job was to find bugs. She was fast, intuitive, and hardworking. But in time we figured out how to automate the QA tests. Maria didn’t like automation and wasn’t particularly good at it. Her new boss (brought in to create a world-class automation tools team) told me he wanted to start a PIP with her.

I replied, “Why bother? We know how this will play out. You’ll write up objectives and deliverables for her to achieve, which she can’t, because she lacks the skills. Every Wednesday you’ll take time away from your real work to discuss (and document) her shortcomings. You won’t sleep on Tuesday nights, because you’ll know it will be an awful meeting, and the same will be true for her. After a few weeks there will be tears. This will go on for three months. The entire team will know. And at the end you’ll fire her. None of this will make any sense to her, because for five years she’s been consistently rewarded for being great at her job—a job that basically doesn’t exist anymore. Tell me again how Netflix benefits?

“Instead, let’s just tell the truth: Technology has changed, the company has changed, and Maria’s skills no longer apply. This won’t be a surprise to her: She’s been in the trenches, watching the work around her shift. Give her a great severance package—which, when she signs the documents, will dramatically reduce (if not eliminate) the chance of a lawsuit.” In my experience, people can handle anything as long as they’re told the truth—and this proved to be the case with Maria.

When we stopped doing formal performance reviews, we instituted informal 360-degree reviews. We kept them fairly simple: People were asked to identify things that colleagues should stop, start, or continue. In the beginning we used an anonymous software system, but over time we shifted to signed feedback, and many teams held their 360s face-to-face.

HR people can’t believe that a company the size of Netflix doesn’t hold annual reviews. “Are you making this up just to upset us?” they ask. I’m not. If you talk simply and honestly about performance on a regular basis, you can get good results—probably better ones than a company that grades everyone on a five-point scale.

Managers Own the Job of Creating Great Teams

Discussing the military’s performance during the Iraq War, Donald Rumsfeld, the former defense secretary, once famously said, “You go to war with the army you have, not the army you might want or wish to have at a later time.” When I talk to managers about creating great teams, I tell them to approach the process in exactly the opposite way.

In my consulting work, I ask managers to imagine a documentary about what their team is accomplishing six months from now. What specific results do they see? How is the work different from what the team is doing today? Next I ask them to think about the skills needed to make the images in the movie become reality. Nowhere in the early stages of the process do I advise them to think about the team they actually have. Only after they’ve done the work of envisioning the ideal outcome and the skill set necessary to achieve it should they analyze how well their existing team matches what they need.

If you’re in a fast-changing business environment, you’re probably looking at a lot of mismatches. In that case, you need to have honest conversations about letting some team members find a place where their skills are a better fit. You also need to recruit people with the right skills.

We faced the latter challenge at Netflix in a fairly dramatic way as we began to shift from DVDs by mail to a streaming service. We had to store massive volumes of files in the cloud and figure out how huge numbers of people could reliably access them. (By some estimates, up to a third of peak residential internet traffic in the U.S. comes from customers streaming Netflix movies.) So we needed to find people deeply experienced with cloud services who worked for companies that operate on a giant scale—companies like Amazon, eBay, Google, and Facebook, which aren’t the easiest places to hire someone away from.

Our compensation philosophy helped a lot. Most of its principles stem from ideals described earlier: Be honest, and treat people like adults. For instance, during my tenure Netflix didn’t pay performance bonuses, because we believed that they’re unnecessary if you hire the right people. If your employees are fully formed adults who put the company first, an annual bonus won’t make them work harder or smarter. We also believed in market-based pay and would tell employees that it was smart to interview with competitors when they had the chance, in order to get a good sense of the market rate for their talent. Many HR people dislike it when employees talk to recruiters, but I always told employees to take the call, ask how much, and send me the number—it’s valuable information.

In addition, we used equity compensation much differently from the way most companies do. Instead of larding stock options on top of a competitive salary, we let employees choose how much (if any) of their compensation would be in the form of equity. If employees wanted stock options, we reduced their salaries accordingly. We believed that they were sophisticated enough to understand the trade-offs, judge their personal tolerance for risk, and decide what was best for them and their families. We distributed options every month, at a slight discount from the market price. We had no vesting period—the options could be cashed in immediately. Most tech companies have a four-year vesting schedule and try to use options as “golden handcuffs” to aid retention, but we never thought that made sense. If you see a better opportunity elsewhere, you should be allowed to take what you’ve earned and leave. If you no longer want to work with us, we don’t want to hold you hostage.

We continually told managers that building a great team was their most important task. We didn’t measure them on whether they were excellent coaches or mentors or got their paperwork done on time. Great teams accomplish great work, and recruiting the right team was the top priority.

Leaders Own the Job of Creating the Company Culture

After I left Netflix and began consulting, I visited a hot start-up in San Francisco. It had 60 employees in an open loft-style office with a foosball table, two pool tables, and a kitchen, where a chef cooked lunch for the entire staff. As the CEO showed me around, he talked about creating a fun atmosphere. At one point I asked him what the most important value for his company was. He replied, “Efficiency.”

“OK,” I said. “Imagine that I work here, and it’s 2:58 PM. I’m playing an intense game of pool, and I’m winning. I estimate that I can finish the game in five minutes. We have a meeting at 3:00. Should I stay and win the game or cut it short for the meeting?”

“You should finish the game,” he insisted. I wasn’t surprised; like many tech start-ups, this was a casual place, where employees wore hoodies and brought pets to work, and that kind of casualness often extends to punctuality. “Wait a second,” I said. “You told me that efficiency is your most important cultural value. It’s not efficient to delay a meeting and keep coworkers waiting because of a pool game. Isn’t there a mismatch between the values you’re talking up and the behaviors you’re modeling and encouraging?”

When I advise leaders about molding a corporate culture, I tend to see three issues that need attention. This type of mismatch is one. It’s a particular problem at start-ups, where there’s a premium on casualness that can run counter to the high-performance ethos leaders want to create. I often sit in on company meetings to get a sense of how people operate. I frequently see CEOs who are clearly winging it. They lack a real agenda. They’re working from slides that were obviously put together an hour before or were recycled from the previous round of VC meetings. Workers notice these things, and if they see a leader who’s not fully prepared and who relies on charm, IQ, and improvisation, it affects how they perform, too. It’s a waste of time to articulate ideas about values and culture if you don’t model and reward behavior that aligns with those goals.

The second issue has to do with making sure employees understand the levers that drive the business. I recently visited a Texas start-up whose employees were mostly engineers in their twenties. “I bet half the people in this room have never read a P&L,” I said to the CFO. He replied, “It’s true—they’re not financially savvy or business savvy, and our biggest challenge is teaching them how the business works.” Even if you’ve hired people who want to perform well, you need to clearly communicate how the company makes money and what behaviors will drive its success. At Netflix, for instance, employees used to focus too heavily on subscriber growth, without much awareness that our expenses often ran ahead of it: We were spending huge amounts buying DVDs, setting up distribution centers, and ordering original programming, all before we’d collected a cent from our new subscribers. Our employees needed to learn that even though revenue was growing, managing expenses really mattered.

The third issue is something I call the split personality start-up. At tech companies this usually manifests itself as a schism between the engineers and the sales team, but it can take other forms. At Netflix, for instance, I sometimes had to remind people that there were big differences between the salaried professional staff at headquarters and the hourly workers in the call centers. At one point our finance team wanted to shift the whole company to direct-deposit paychecks, and I had to point out that some of our hourly workers didn’t have bank accounts. That’s a small example, but it speaks to a larger point: As leaders build a company culture, they need to be aware of subcultures that might require different management.

Good Talent Managers Think Like Businesspeople and Innovators First, and Like HR People Last

Throughout most of my career I’ve belonged to professional associations of human resources executives. Although I like the people in these groups personally, I often find myself disagreeing with them. Too many devote time to morale improvement initiatives. At some places entire teams focus on getting their firm onto lists of “Best Places to Work” (which, when you dig into the methodologies, are really based just on perks and benefits). At a recent conference I met someone from a company that had appointed a “chief happiness officer”—a concept that makes me slightly sick.

During 30 years in business I’ve never seen an HR initiative that improved morale. HR departments might throw parties and hand out T-shirts, but if the stock price is falling or the company’s products aren’t perceived as successful, the people at those parties will quietly complain—and they’ll use the T-shirts to wash their cars.

Instead of cheerleading, people in my profession should think of themselves as businesspeople. What’s good for the company? How do we communicate that to employees? How can we help every worker understand what we mean by high performance?

Here’s a simple test: If your company has a performance bonus plan, go up to a random employee and ask, “Do you know specifically what you should be doing right now to increase your bonus?” If he or she can’t answer, the HR team isn’t making things as clear as they need to be.

At Netflix I worked with colleagues who were changing the way people consume filmed entertainment, which is an incredibly innovative pursuit—yet when I started there, the expectation was that I would default to mimicking other companies’ best practices (many of them antiquated), which is how almost everyone seems to approach HR. I rejected those constraints. There’s no reason the HR team can’t be innovative too.

A version of this article appeared in the

January–February 2014

issue of Harvard Business Review.

#Business #work

[darkstar6782]

1.19: Provenance - My Rewatch Review

I love the character of Sarah Blake so much! If there was one character from this first season that I would have picked to be a recurring character, it would have been her. She’s so matter-of-fact about the whole ‘ghosts are real’ thing, she is willing to call Sam out on his white-knighting, she’s smart and funny and fearless—everything that I look for in characters that I want to relate to. I also really liked what she brought out in Sam, and what his relationship with her, as brief as it was, tells us about who Jess may have been as a person and what his relationship with her was, and what it might have been like if he had chosen to tell her about the supernatural. I think this is important at this point in the story, because, for all that Jess is the driving force behind Sam’s desire to hunt and find his dad and track down the demon that killed her and his mom, we still don’t really know anything about her, or understand truly what Sam lost by losing her, other than the vague outlines of ‘girl that he loved’. As the audience, to some extent we are seeing Sam in much the way that Dean does, with no real idea of what he is going through, and this episode finally gives us some glimpses into his personal pain while also opening him up to the chance to heal. And in Sarah, we see the potential behind his relationship with Jess, and it hurts all the more to think that he lost a person that could have been a good partner and confidant when it came to his big family secret. Which is why it also hurts every time I get to the end of season eight and watch them bring Sarah back just to kill her. She was such a great one-time character with so much potential; she didn’t deserve to have her story end like that.

Another highlight of this episode for me has always been the special effects. The subtle use of movement in the painting, the way that it appears back in its frame after being burned, and the creepy effects on the ghost girl’s face are all perfectly executed, and it all works perfectly together to make this episode truly scary. Especially with regards to the moving painting effects, if they had looked cheesy or less realistic, it would have really undersold the horror of the story, especially when it came to the twist at the end. But they nailed all of the effects in this episode perfectly, which really added to the creep factor.

I also always find it interesting that the boys didn’t even try to blend in at the auction. It’s not like they didn’t have sufficient warning, given the cars that they parked next to, and it’s not like we haven’t seen them try to blend in by wearing suits before, but they walked into this black-tie event and started snooping around in full view of everyone without even trying to pretend like they belonged, a few transparent lies about who they were and why they were there aside. Sam was doing his best to project an air of ‘we’re supposed to be here’ even if he didn’t look it, but Dean wasn’t even trying. It used to strike me as odd and out-of-character, but now I see it more as a particular disdain, specifically on Dean’s part, for conspicuous wealth. And given their background, growing up essentially homeless and on the fringes of society, his attitude doesn’t surprise me in the least. The fact that he and Sam support themselves by hustling pool and stealing credit cards tells me that they see money as little more than a means of survival. The things that matter most to them in life don’t cost money, and I get a very real sense that they wouldn’t really know what to do with it if they had it. Even Sam’s discomfort in the restaurant where he took Sarah on their date spoke volumes to this fact, and it makes me wonder once again if he ever felt like he fit in at Stanford either, because a school like that caters as much to the extremely wealthy as it does to the best and brightest. It’s always a thing I have admired about this show, though; it knows exactly how these boys grew up, and what it means for them to live the life they live, and a bit of hand waving about their finances in the future aside, it portrays their lifestyle honestly, and uses episodes like this one to provide context for that reality, and doesn’t put the ‘Hollywood’ veneer over everything when it comes to their financial situation, the lifestyle that it affords them, or the contrast between them and people who exist in a different financial strata from them.

#supernatural #1.19 provenance #spn rewatch #tgpcSPNr #the great pre-convention spn rewatch

[ronyxfic]

Educating the Victim - Act VI, Chapter XXII

Pairing: -

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: alcohol, discussion of mental illness.

CHAPTER 22: Impulse

 It was getting late. Pearl caught the clock in the corner of her eye just as her belly let out a loud rumble.

She entertained the idea of skipping dinner for far longer than she should have. The idea of potentially running into Greg was daunting.

But she’d barely eaten all day, and she needed to be better than that. So with a sigh, she resolved, at around 10pm, to go down to the kitchen. Surely it was late enough that she wouldn’t encounter anyone.

 Greg was in the living room, assembling what appeared to be a box of records. He glanced up as he saw her descend the stairs, and offered a smile. "Oh, hey, Pearl! You still up?"

 Pearl resisted the urge to grimace. “Hi, Greg,” she said. “Uh, just getting some food. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

 "You can stay in my hair. I've had to accept things getting tangled up in it." He looked a little taken aback, frowning despite a kind tone. "I was figuring that maybe we could get to know one another since you're gonna be here for a while."

 “Uh...”

Pearl hesitated and turned to face him instead of darting into the kitchen, out of sight. “I mean, sure, I guess. It’s late now, though, so not today. I should probably head to bed anyway.” The temptation to turn tail and go back to her room was hard to resist. “I’m just gonna make some food first.”

 "Oh, alright!" Greg didn't seem to catch the discomfort in her voice. "You free tomorrow evening? I could dig out some board games from storage. Hey, we could do halfsies on a pizza!"

 “Oh. Uh. I think I’m over at my friend’s place tomorrow.” No plans had been made, but Amethyst was probably down, and Pearl didn’t want to make concrete plans with Greg.

 "Oh, okay! My week after that is a lil sketchy. I got some gigs that haven't been given a time yet. How's about you text me when you're free?"

 “Oh! Yeah, that would work. I have exams now, though, so I don’t know when I’m free.” The answer was probably never. “Anyway, gonna make food now. You, uh, want anything?”

 "Oh! Sure, fetch me a root beer." He gave her a big smile. "Can't wait! I'll try to dig up something interesting for it. What games do you like?"

 Pearl stuck her head out of the kitchen. “Anything, really,” she said, “I guess stuff you can play with two people.”

Bless him, he was really trying.

Pearl was not in the mood to socialise with Rose’s partner, though.

 "I can accommodate that. What are ya making?"

 “Oh. Just some toast.”

 "Okay! Lemme know how we're doing for bread. Rose said she'd send some money for shopping next week." He resumed flipping through the records, and rearranging their order in the stack.

 “Okay,” Pearl said, feeling like this particular interaction was over. Well, that was something, at least.

 --

 There was a curt knock on Rose's door. Marigold's voice seemed rather quiet "Rose? I was wondering if you wanted to go and eat. I'm not sure when the restaurant closes, but I think it's best to go sooner rather than later."

 Rose, who just got done freshening up, opened the door. “Oh, hey! I was just about to go out and look for food. Have you found your appetite?”

 "Yes. It might help with the mood and... it would be foolish to go looking for Roxy without sustenance."

 Rose checked her phone. “It’s eight now,” she said. “Where should we go?”

 "Hmm." Marigold looked to the door. "Downstairs?"

 “Might as well,” Rose said. She grabbed her purse. “You ready now?”

 "Yeah." Marigold walked to the door. "You have a key?"

 “Yup. Let’s go.”

A few moments later, they found themselves by the restaurant, where a very sheepish waitress told them in heavily accented English that they stopped serving food at eight.

 "Okay. Change of plans." Marigold clapped her hands together. "Why don't we go to some place outside? I'm sure it could be lovely."

 “... yeah, okay,” Rose said. “Do you know if there’s any places nearby?”

 Marigold awkwardly rubbed her arm. "I don't know if I even want to leave. I'm nervous about bumping into her."

 “We’re just going out for food. What are the odds of us running into a wanted criminal at a quiet restaurant while we’re just having dinner? It’ll be fine.”

 Marigold was silent for a moment before nodding. "I suppose you're right. Want me to Google what's nearby?"

 “Yeah, sure,” Rose said. “Or maybe the staff here have recommendations?”

 "You could ask," Marigold said, tapping on her phone.

 “I’d feel awkward, after earlier,” Rose said. She then spied some leaflets in a familiar language. “Oh, hey! This has a map of the town, with restaurants and recommendations!”

Her eyes flickered over the symbol indicating a casino. Only one in the entire town.

 "Anything good? My internet is being a bit spotty."

 Rose skimmed the reviews. “This one sounds nice!”

On the map, it was dangerously close to the casino. “Though, maybe not. Uh. There’s another one that looks like it’s really close to the hotel. Here?” She showed Marigold the map, pointing to the restaurant she’d scouted out.

 Marigold tilted her head. "Hm. I like the look of the other one. Maybe a walk might help my nerves."

 Rose bit her lip. Nothing’s going to happen. You’re going to the restaurant, not the casino.

“Alright then,” she said.

 "I take it that I won't have to spend the night babysitting your drunk behind." Marigold nudged her playfully as she walked out of the door.

 “Oh, absolutely not. I’m not having any alcohol. ...maybe some wine with dinner, but that’s all, really.”

 Marigold cocked a brow. "Alright. If you say so."

   The restaurant was about fifteen minutes away. It was loosely populated, and they managed to get a table near the window.

“Now here comes the real challenge,” Rose said as the menus were being brought. “These aren’t in English.”

 "Oh, no!" Marigold laughed. "I do suppose we'll have to hope we see something familiar."

 Rose had a look at the menu. “Well, I know what ‘pizza margherita’ means,” she said, “maybe it’s not that bad after all. Oh, they have lots of wine.”

 "Pollo is chicken, yes?" Marigold glanced at her own. "I wouldn't mind some pasta."

 They ordered their food, and Rose couldn’t resist ordering one of the red wines. It was just one glass.

“So, do you think we should go out to look for her tomorrow?” she asked after the waiter was gone.

 "Yes. Absolutely." Marigold swallowed, her face displayed signs of distress at the thought. "We only have a few days. Any hour we don't use is an hour closer for interpol."

 “Very true,” Rose said. Their drinks came, and Rose had a sip of the red wine. “Oh, that is delicious. ...I’d offer you some, but you’re teetotal, aren’t you?”

 Marigold sipped at a flute of fizzy water. "I'm alright, thanks. It's nearly been six months since I stopped."

 “Impressive. I should probably stop as well. But wine is so good.” Rose had another sip.

 "That it is." Marigold put her glass down. "A couple of glasses tended to get me just the right kind of adventurously tipsy. It's the spirits that cause trouble."

 “Well, they’re good if all you want is to forget everything,” Rose said. “Like last night. I knew it was a bad idea, and I did it anyway.”

 "Tell me about it. Funnily enough, all I ever drank with Roxy was shot upon shot and barely remembered anything in the mornings."

 Rose grimaced. “I know we had this discussion earlier, but she must’ve done it on purpose. She did it with me.”

 Marigold glanced away, touching her neck in an awkward way. "Yes, it's been on my mind a lot."

 “Are you worried that something... bad might’ve happened that you don’t remember?”

 "Yeah. I suppose I am." Her voice was dry.

 “Hmm.” Rose frowned, had more wine. “Really, we can’t go from here without Roxy. She’s the one who’s got the answers, and without her, you’ll never know what happened.”

 "Oh yes, that'll really help us to get her to give herself up peacefully." Marigold rolled her eyes. "'Oh, hello, Roxy! Long time, no see! Could you come with us? Also, did you do things to me without consent while I was blackout drunk that night ten or so years ago? You know?' That'll go really well."

 “Well, finding her would be a place to start,” Rose said. “Everything else will have to wait. And... honestly, I have no idea how to talk to her. I mean, there’s kind of an entire unfinished court case between us.”

 "I guess that's why I'm here!" There was fake jubilation in Marigold’s voice. "To talk to her..."

 “Well, what would you say?” Rose said. “Say, you run into her tomorrow morning while out to get lunch or something. What do you say?”

 Marigold laughed. "What would I even? Hm... 'Hello, Roxy. There's an interpol search on you. Come with me if you want to live.'"

 “Huh, sounds a bit like blackmail to me. You sure that’ll go down well?”

 "It's the truth, isn't it?"

 “I suppose.” Rose sighed.

The waiter brought over their food, and Rose hesitated, looking at her pizza.

 "What's wrong? It looks good." Marigold grabbed a fork and poked at a large plate of spaghetti.

 “It does. I’m just not that hungry.” It wasn’t technically a lie. Rose sighed, then decided to elaborate. “I... she always made me feel guilty about eating. And it’s been five years and I’ve gotten so much better, but all of this shit has just brought everything back up. In some ways, I still feel like she’s watching me, criticising every bite I eat.” She swallowed. “It’s pizza. High calorie. I... I should just eat it. I can’t believe I’m still letting her control me like this.”

 Marigold frowned, and then gently put her hand on Rose's. "It's all alright. You should still eat. If anything, you need the calories after vomiting up everything yesterday and barely eating today. Besides, if you really want to spite her for making you feel this way, surely eating should be the best way forward."

   Rose sighed once again. “Intellectually, I agree with you. It’s just... hard.” She reluctantly took a bite.

“Actually, never mind, this tastes fantastic,” she said after a few minutes. “God. Italy, right? I’m never touching Domino’s again.”

 Marigold chuckled tenderly as she withdrew. "I do understand the difficulty, though. The media and all that doesn't help us ladies with our self image, either. I've seen a lot of girls go through eating problems in my school."

 Rose nodded. “Yeah, absolutely. Pearl being one of them, of course. I’m sure you know about that, with her being Aurora’s sister, and all.”

 Marigold looked away. "Yes. But I only heard about the whole ordeal after she'd been taken to hospital."

 Rose grimaced. “Poor girl. You know, it was the reason I got close to her in the first place. I noticed she had problems... and having gone through it myself, I just wanted to help.”

 Marigold couldn't quite meet Rose's eyes. "Yes, I remember you saying so. I would have gotten involved sooner if I hadn't been such a drunk scumbag."

 “Well. You’re better now. And so is Pearl. That’s what matters.”

 "True. She does look a lot better these days." Marigold gave a nod. "Goodness. I was so cross with her when she returned to retract her statement about you."

 “Yeah, I remember her saying you weren’t happy. But I’m still glad she did it.” Rose finished her glass of wine. The waiter appeared by her side, and Rose let him refill her glass.

 Marigold watched her. "I thought you weren't going to get as drunk. Not trying to control you or anything, we just can't afford to waste more time hungover."

 “Two glasses won’t get me that drunk,” Rose assured her. “And I’m stopping after this one.”

 "Alright." Marigold resumed eating her pasta. "My god, these portions are huge."

 “Do you think we can take the food away if we don’t finish it? It would be a shame to waste it.” Rose, who had eaten about half of her pizza, picked at the rest, looking worried.

 "That depends if you want to ask. I have... a thing with embarrassing myself in front of foreign waiters."

 Rose sighed. “Maybe not, then. I don’t speak Italian.”

She hesitated, then picked up another slice.

“Do you think we’re wasting time here?” she said spontaneously.

 "I suppose. But we do need to eat and rest."

 “I spent half the day asleep. If I hadn’t been hungover, we could probably be on the hunt for Roxy right now.” Rose grimaced. “Maybe we should go after her tonight.”

 "Um. I mean... We don't exactly have our equipment and I'm not exactly... emotionally prepared for this." Marigold swallowed.

 “You’re never gonna be emotionally prepared. I just... look, we’ve got Interpol on our asses, right? And Azure wants us to get this done as soon as possible. We really don’t have any time to lose, don’t you think?”

 Marigold glanced around the room anxiously, her eyes widening. “Are... are we really going to do this now? Oh God. Okay. Where do we even start? That casino?”

 “It’s only two streets away. I noticed it on the map before. Here.” Rose pulled out the map and showed Marigold. “This is where we are. And the casino is here.”

 “Oh, goodness. And so it is.” Marigold wiped at her brow and let out a nervous laugh. “Alright. Sure. If you’re so motivated, then we could certainly give it a shot. Should we go back home and fetch our equipment? Oh... I don’t even know how my tazer works...”

 “Well, we probably won’t even run into her. But we can just scout out the casino. It’s good to familiarise ourselves with the battlefield before the battle starts.” Rose had a spark of fire in her eyes. “I – I don’t know, it’s probably a bad idea. But I just can’t wait any longer. We’ve been here for more than a day already. I just want to get something done, you know?”

 Marigold put her cutlery down. “Okay. When you put it that way, I guess it won’t be so bad. I’ve not been inside of casino for a long time, I guess I’m somewhat nervous.”

 “You got a history with casinos?”

 “I had a...” Marigold coughed awkwardly. “Gambling problem.”

 "Oh. I see." Rose shot her a look. "Will I need to keep an eye on you or something? Are you gonna be okay?"

 "Oh, no. I doubt I'll start spending any money in there if we're just taking a peek." Marigold tried to wave the anxiety off, but her face remained tense. "I might just get a little bit overwhelmed with the noise."

 "Well, we're just having a look around. I doubt we'll be staying long." Rose gave her a smile that was meant to be encouraging; she wasn't quite sure how it turned out. "Alright. Do we need a plan for this, or are we just going in?"

 "We're just looking around, Rose." Marigold sighed, curling her fists. " We need to stop overthinking this."

 "Okay then. Are you done with your food?"

 It no longer looked as appetizing. Marigold frowned. "Yeah. It was delicious."

 "Okay. Let's pay and go, then. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get out."

 Marigold opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. "Alright, then. Goodness. I can't shake off this odd dread." She pointed to her stomach. "Right here. A big knot."

 "Yeah," Rose said, "me too. I mean... this is real. We might see her. We probably won't but... we might."

 "We could make a pact to just stay in our hotel room for the next week and say we just didn't bump into her?" Marigold offered. It was impossible to tell her level of sarcasm.

 Rose raised an eyebrow.

"Are you chickening out on me?"

 "It was just a suggestion."

 "A bad one. I need justice. Azure needs justice. And the girl that got shot. We can't just bail on this." Rose stood up, a grim expression on her face. "Have you got everything?"

 "I do. Oh, here's a waiter!"

A few minutes later, the two were outside. Marigold found her hands trembling despite the sweet, warm air that hung atop them. She suddenly found it claustrophobic to be outside.

"Which way?"

 "This way, I think." Rose pointed. As they turned the corner, the bright colours of the casino became visible.

"There." Rose's voice was soft.

 "There." Marigold's voice shook, just barely. "We can't be scared now."

 "Who's scared?"

Rose took a bold step forwards. The casino got closer as they walked, and her heart fluttered.

 Marigold looked around. The casino stood out in the quaint village, with large pillars decorating the front. The doors, large, were open enough to reveal the interior, from which music emanated.

Even the colours were taking her back. She sighed, finding it hard to properly finish her exhale. "Not me."

 "Let's go, then," Rose said. She took a deep breath and stepped inside the casino.

She was immediately a little overwhelmed by the sounds, the bustle. It was busier than Rose would have expected; her eyes darted around frantically, looking for a flash of pink hair.

 "Remember what we're in here for. We're just scouting. Tonight isn't for confrontation." Marigold pressed at her.

 "I know. I'm just... looking." Rose couldn't tear her gaze away from the crowds. "What if she's here?"

 "Then we avoid her and contact Azure immidiately."

 Rose breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. "She's probably not even here. Shall we have a look around?"

 "Yes." Marigold stepped forward, trying hard to avoid the set of loud, colourful slot machines. "I'll go check out the card tables."

 "Okay. I assume you know how to play all of these." Rose hovered close by, trying not to get too distracted.

 "I'm not here to play." Marigold shot her a scowl.

 "Oh, no, I wasn't suggesting..." Rose immediately backed off. "Sorry."

 Marigold didn't respond, and instead shuffled further inside the casino. She stopped to view a water feature in front of high panels of glass that seperated the section from the rest. "This is so unnecessary."

 Rose barely spared it a glance. “It’s what you do when you’ve got too much money, I guess,” she said. “So... what do we do now? Scout out the place?”

 "Sounds good." Marigold nodded. "I'll handle the... slots, I guess."

 Rose nodded. "I might head over to the bar. ... damn, it would be useful to have Azure's equipment to communicate. Have you got your phone on you?"

 "Should do. Ah, yes. But the reception is down."

 "Ah, damn." Rose looked around nervously. "There's no sign of her. Maybe we should go back."

 "Oh no, you brought us here. Now I'm determined." Marigold sniffed. "We're just looking around."

 Rose clenched her teeth. "Fine," she said. "I'll go to the bar. Meet at the exit in... twenty minutes?"

 "Sounds good." Marigold nodded, looking around. "This place gives me the willies."

 "Yeah, me too. Might get something to drink just to take the edge off." Rose sighed. "I'll see you later."

 "Just don't make it a repeat of last night." Marigold swore under her breath as she began to walk to a row of slots, observing the area past the entryway. She pressed through a small crowd past a table.

She realised she was having trouble breathing as she recognised the intricate game of bridge before her.

But no sign of Roxy. It was a table of men, somewhat well dressed, quieter than the more intoxicated gaggles of people.

The air felt too heavy. She envied the sparkling glasses in the room.

   Rose made it to the bar and settled on one of the stools with a heavy sigh.

The bartender spoke to her in Italian, a smile on his lips.

"Uh... I'm sorry, I don't speak Italian," Rose said, suddenly feeling kind of stupid.

What are we doing here?

"Oh, okay," the bartender said in accented English. "Can I get you a drink?"

Rose definitely needed one. "Rum and coke?" she asked.

"No problemo." The bartender winked at her. "I can help you with your Italian too, if you want."

Rose blushed. "Uh, thanks, but I'm not staying long," she said. Hopefully.

 The bartender clicked his tongue as he poured a cola. "Oh? Why not stay around for a while? Have you had enough of the casino noise?"

 Rose’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“I’m only passing through,” she said. “I’m... here with my...” She hesitated. What was Marigold to her, now? Her boss? Colleague?

“Friend,” she decided. “And we’re looking for someone, and we’ll probably leave once we find her.”

"Oh? Anyone I could help find?" He blinked, sliding the glass over.

 “Maybe,” Rose said. “We heard she comes here sometimes. About this tall, very pretty...” She blushed. “Middle aged. Possibly pink hair, though she might’ve changed it since I knew her.”

 He ground to a still before picking up a glass to wipe. An anxious look appeared over his face. "Hm, yes. I may have seen someone like that around. Your friend, you said?"

 "... yeah, something like that." Rose straightened up. "So you've seen her?"

 "Not tonight, but yes." He looked around and leaned close. "Look, bella. I like you. Don't get mixed in with this. It's dark business."

 Rose held his gaze, her heart fluttering. "What do you mean?" she said softly.

 "Avoid this mafia stuff, yes?" He gave a little nod, perhaps to encourage her. "I only see one or two of her close women stick around for longer than a month. Tourist types always seem to be... excited until they learn how far it all goes."

 Rose's heart sped up, and even though the bartender was cute, it wasn't because of his closeness.

Of course Roxy would get involved in the mafia. Fuck. I need to tell Marigold.

She looked around, anxiety in her belly.

"When did you last see her?"

 "Last week." He looked to the casino. "She does card games usually. That's all I can let you know, I'm afraid."

 Rose breathed. She could hear the blood rushing through her ears.

"Thanks," she said, "you've been very helpful. If I stick around for longer, maybe you can help me learn Italian."

Her flirtatious smile was forced. She knocked back her drink. "Could I have another one of those?"

 He returned the smile, a little more relaxed. "This one is on the house."

 --

 Marigold found herself frozen in front of a selection of slot machines. They were more colourful and loud than she remembered. Some even had electronic screens and flashy gimmicks.

The coins in her pocket felt surprsingly heavy all of the sudden.

"This truly is a recovered gambler's worst nightmare," she murmured. The noise in the hall was so loud she barely heard her own sound.

One game. One game wouldn't hurt. She only had about twenty euros as cash on hand.

"One game."

Before she knew it, her fingers were placing a coin into the slot at the top of a machine slightly taller than her.

 Rose had finished her drink and found herself waiting at the arranged time, itching to go. Her conversation with the bartender had left her with a deep pit of dread in her stomach, and she didn't want to stay.

After a few minutes, she made her way to the slot machines, where she saw Marigold and quickly made her way over to her.

"Marigold," she said, "we need to go."

 Marigold nearly jumped. She didn't, however, turn around. "Alright. Sure. Just a couple of minutes. Did you check the whole perimiter?"

 "No, but we need to go. I talked to the bartender, and he says she's in the mafia, Marigold." Rose took a moment to breathe. "God, you got stuck at the slots, didn't you?"

 Marigold turned to look at her, eyes wide.  The purse in her hand was nearly empty. "Oh, good Lord! Is she here tonight?"

 “No. But I don’t feel safe here. We need to go back and let Azure know. And get our stuff. I don’t want to encounter her without any of our gear.”

 Marigold huffed. "Get a grip, Rose. If she's not here, she's not here.  But fine, you make a good point. I've only got a coin left, anyway. One last game and we can head back."

 “Okay. Fine. I need to pee anyway. Serves me right for drinking, I guess. Do you know where the toilets are?”

 "Oh! I think I saw a sign just past that odd fountain, past the front."

 “Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

As Rose walked through the casino, she had to force herself to walk slowly. She deliberately didn’t look at the faces in the crowd.

She’s not here. She isn’t here, so stop stressing. This is bad for your heart.

She found the bathroom after a few minutes of searching, and once the stall door shut behind her, she let out a deep breath that she hadn’t realised she was holding.

It’s okay. I’ll be out of here soon. We’ll leave and regroup and tell Azure and then, when we actually see Roxy, we’ll be prepared.

And then, almost as an afterthought: I hope Marigold is okay.

 The door to the bathroom opened, and several other women came in, chatting in fast, hushed Italian.

 Rose ignored them. They were probably just here to enjoy their evening. There was no need to get suspicious. She's not here.

She took a deep breath, and then another. She'd finished her business on the toilet. It was time to go find Marigold and return to their hotel.

 A faucet was rushing. A figure in a suit before Rose was washing her hands, her hair silvery from the back. The suit was well fitted, pinstripe.

 Rose stepped towards the sinks and washed her hands, not looking at the other woman, lost in her thoughts.

 The woman turned to face her.

A little yelp of surprise echoed in the bathroom. 

And then silence.

 And Rose finally turned, acknowledging the woman next to her.

Her mind went completely blank in shock, and for a moment that felt like eternity, she only stared.

She’s here.

#steven universe #su fanfic #su yellow diamond #su rose quartz #su pearl #greg universe #su pink diamond #su human au #educating the victim #etv act 6 #illustrated #animated #sfw

[cathariis]

‘ i need you. ’ (for like all our ships bc?? do it)

send  ‘ i need you. ’ for my muse’s reaction.

lottie & berend.

lottie knew that this was causing damage between them. every day he would yell at her, unsure as to why he was being targetted for robberies left and right. although she knew the answer, the female could not let him know the truth. it was killing on her on the inside, seeing her boyfriend beginning to behave in a way that almost reminded her of her father –– angry and resentful. lottie has done what she could to calm him down but it would only back-fire on her. even with the alcohol keeping her numb during the interacts, she still hid in the restroom while he slept to sob. she didn’t want to seem weak during his time of need, but it was starting to feel like as if it was too much for her to handle. lottie remained in the bathroom, doing her best to remain silent until there was a knock on the door. “lots… i need you.” berend spoke, his tone of voice sounding like himself. standing up quickly with tears running down her cheek, she opened the door to see him, looking defensive. lottie took her in his arms, holding him close and refused to let him go. “i’m sorry.” she whispered, pedaling kisses on his temple. “i’m so sorry.”

ryder & parker.

ryder didn’t know what to call what they were doing. were they dating? were they simply fucking and that’s it? he knew that he felt an attachment towards parker but ryder had learned early on not to push certain things. even he would get freaked out over the thought of giving this a label. either way, ryder enjoyed the time they spent together, hacking and fucking. his hues were focused on the monitor in front of him, taking a bite out of the mcdonalds they got delivered a while ago. he heard parker say those words but didn’t put two and two together. “what, did you hit a firewall or –––” his head lifted up, seeing the female beginning to remove her top and it caused him to chuckle. “well shit, give a guy a little more warning.” let’s say, he got dessert early.

xavier & eric.

xavier didn’t realize that this was beginning to get too far, even for the likes of him. for most of the time, he could handle anything that was thrown at him and keep on moving. however, with the case of eric and this current home situation, xavier didn’t know where to turn to. he hid this fact well from his gang members but it was still a discomfort. xavier had been staying at his apartment for the last week, not wanting to leave although he knew that perhaps he is overstaying his welcome. because of this, he had begun to pack his few belongings back into his suitcase before he heard the other speak. turning around to face him, his shoulders shrugged, lips pressed together in a tight lip. “as in sex or emotionally because i don’t feel like figuring it out right now.”

zora & jorie.

nobody knew about their office romance that had begun to bloom. it wasn’t a messy situation, they were allowed to date but the pair were overthinking it. they’ve been on dates here and there, even took the time to learn about each other’s bodies as a wave of experimenting. zora couldn’t get it out of her head the way they behaved in her apartment. the sight of jorie’s hands on her skin, figuring it out together was something she could never forget. the brunette had been distracted by her thoughts, only snapping out of it when there was a sudden door closure. turning around, she saw jorie with a look of nervousness. with her brows furrowed, zora was about to ask if she was okay when the other suddenly blurted those words out. her cheeks tinted red, eyes widen as she looked down for a moment to the ground. the female knew that she felt the same and looked at the female, taking in her beauty before stepping closer to press a kiss to her lips, pushing her against the door to make sure the handle was locked.

thomas & india.

it almost felt like christmas morning whenever he was around india. thomas never knew what he was going to get and that was enough for him. for the first time since claiming their relationship, thomas slept over the night. their conversations went well into the early morning hours and he didn’t wake up on time for work. while he was ready to rush and get there late, making an excuse up, india whispered in his ear and pulled him back into bed. five minutes later, he called in sick and spent the day at her home again.

zora, jorie & eric.

the current case against xavier and the entire mafia behind him came to a stand-still. zora was working day in and day out to make a possible connection that didn’t criminalize eric in any way. it was hard for her not to put her emotions into this, considering that somehow they started dating –– jorie, eric, and her. they had been trying to peel her away from the home office all day, even going as far as to remove the highlight she held and off her desk too. “we need you.” they said, causing a brow to rise from zora. “if it’s for dinner, we could have ordered in.” well, that wasn’t the case and she put the connections together, seeing the look in their eyes. “you could have also started that without me. i would have come once i heard the moaning.”

xavier, alexa & eric.

xavier felt as if he was on top of the worlds. a fiance and a boyfriend, sharing the same bed and he got the best of both worlds. yes, it sounded cheesy but it was the truth. he returned home to see that eric was already making himself comfortable on top of his fiancee, both of them calling out saying that they needed him. with a smirk, he started to strip away the layers of clothing he wore to join them.

melody & elijah.

the female had learned to expect nothing from elijah other than the information she asked for. even with their time in bed together, she didn’t think he would willingly come to her private office, jacket covering his middle with caused a rise of the brow. “what, you tried jerking off and couldn’t finish?” she questioned, noticing the look in his eye to see that it was true. “well, i have an hour. better make me cum or else.”  

otto & antoni.

otto has grown to know that antoni likes to have attention on him at all times. he didn’t mind, considering that the blonde disliked the spotlight on him unless it had to do with his cooking. still, he didn’t expect him to show up at the restaurant after closing hours when otto was reviewing the totals of the day. his brows raised at the male, knowing full well that there was no excuse for him to give. in addition, otto did miss him throughout the day, despite having seen him in the morning. moving his chair away from the table, he gave a grin to the other and patted his lap, a cue for antoni to sit on him. it only took them ten minutes to get each other’s clothes off and have fun on the table. thankfully nobody else was in the restaurant and he knew the security codes to delete the footage. 

xavier & alexa.

those were the type of words that he liked to hear first thing in the morning. sleep was still in his eyes but it quickly escaped him once alexa got on top of him. “shit, you’re ready to go.” he laughed, hands moving up her smooth thighs as he quickly closed his eyes for a moment. “come sit on my face, let me have breakfast first before i fuck you fully.”

zora & eric.

sometimes it felt like a crazy rollercoaster that they somehow managed to get on but never off it completely. only the individuals from their class knew about their friends-with-benefits agreement, despite denying it the entire time they were in the academy. they figured that they couldn’t be placed in the same department but to their luck, they ended up becoming partners and had to learn to be civil for the sake of the work. to zora’s surprise, they formed a friendship and even got called work husband and wife, which she didn’t mind despite dating jorie. however, they still kept most of their personal life separate from their work life. that was until eric showed up unannounced at the girl’s apartment, making word vomit of everything that has happened in the last year with their current subject, xavier. he asked for help, saying that he needed her and her blood boiled –– not for the secret but for the treatment that eric got from the pair, alexa, and xavier. “i swear to god if either one of them shows up here, i will murder them without a second thought.”

#richcsse #tba. — lottie & berend. #tba. — ryder & parker. #tba. — xavier & eric. #tba. — xavier & alexa. #tba. — zora & jorie. #tba. — zora & eric. #tba. — thomas & india. #tba. — zora jorie & eric. #tba. — xavier alexa & eric. #tba. — melody & elijah. #tba. — otto & antoni. #not flagged — nsfw.

[wildflower8281]

Curating the Noise

I am one of those people. You know them. We have to turn down the music in the car, or the volume on the tv if you are having a conversation with us. We have to close the door of our room or office, if there is noise happening outside. We look at you with painful, squinty eyes in crowded, loud restaurants, hunching as close to you as possible, straining in agony to hear whatever you are saying. I am one of those people and always have been, yet only recently have realized a.) that not everyone is like this (!) and b.) that it’s ok to ask for what I need.

The Concert Effect

It is not any kind of medical condition that I have. I do believe it’s something related to my introvert and hsp brain wiring. I’m sure there are scientific articles written on this, but I’m just sharing what it feels like in my own experience. It is as if my ears and brain do not discern one noise from the other, in terms of which is the primary input (a conversation for example) and which is the background (ex: music.) They both come in at full volume and blend in my ears! What most people may experience only in a concert-like setting, namely really loud music and straining to hold a conversation with the person next to you, is what it feels like for me to be in a car talking with someone who also has their radio on. Not in terms of volume, but in terms of two forms of auditory input happening simultaneously at the same decibels, of which you cannot discern one from the other. It literally feels like both things hold equal weight in my ears and they come into my auditory system each in totally full effect and I strain to separate them easily. Another example would be a DJ mixing two songs simultaneously, creating a very discordant situation in your ears.  It is a very uncomfortable sensation and when it’s not monitored, takes heaps of energy to focus on the primary input, which is usually a conversation.

The Shut Down

The typical consequence if this situation goes on long enough is that I will just tune out of everything and stop engaging, usually simply out of exhaustion. It just becomes way too strenuous and uncomfortable to try to discern the primary input and ignore the secondary input, that I just stop straining. This happens a lot in cars with other people or even with Lyft drivers. Very frequently, I have to ask Lyft drivers to turn their music down because they are trying to chat with me (which, Dear Lyft Drivers, is not necessary!) and they keep their music on regular volume. I’ve asked drivers like 3x to continue lowering their radio until I can finally hear just them speaking. I do it in group car rides where there are various voices, plus music going on. I do it at dinner tables with mixed conversations happening. 

This is also why larger social gatherings are usually not enjoyable (many reasons for us introverts, but this is definitely high on the list for me) - there is usually various auditory things happening all at once: music, laughter, voices, conversations near and far, clanking of kitchen or bar things….It’s like being on a bad trip for me and I just avoid those situations as much as I can. (Fun fact: going dancing is an exception here. When I go out to go dancing, most of the night is just listening to music and dancing. There is very little chatting and what little there is is tolerable for the overall enjoyable effect of good music and dancing time!)

Curating

I’ve learned to curate my noise levels in most ways in my life and it has definitely helped. Some practical things that I always do are:

*Working with my office door closed. My coworkers know I am there and available, but it’s so much easier for me to speak on the phone with clients and think or work in general, if I’m not having extra audio-input from office conversations or music.

*Checking out the layout of new restaurants. When going somewhere new, I try to look at the layouts of restaurants or cafes to make sure the tables are spaced out and I read reviews, specifically looking for comments on ambiance & noise or music. I prefer quiet eateries with plenty of breathing room between tables, so that I can have the pleasure of eating out, while enjoying intimate conversation. Loud restaurants - either with close people or loud music - can totally ruin the entire experience for me and I will just shut off because the energy needed to listen to any actual conversation exhausts me. This also happens in any group meals with mixed conversations - I usually just default to observation mode because it becomes auditory overwhelm again.

*My house is usually silent. The only times I put music on is when I’m working out or cleaning, and even then, only if I’m in the mood. I can spend an entire weekend in my house, in total silence (except for netflix and nature) and be totally happy. This truth is not foreign to any fellow introvert.

*At the front desk, I turn off the ringer. This allows me to converse calmly with anyone who walks into the Art Center and not be jarringly alarmed every time the phone rings. If I’m alone, I can see the green light flashing and pick up the phone. If I am with a human, I can remain focused fully on their needs. (Fwiw, I am always scandalized by anyone who holds a conversation at full volume in our lobby while they see I’m on the phone. To me, it’s like the concert situation all over again, but I understand that many humans don’t have the sensitivity I have and have no clue how jarring it is to hear their conversation in full volume coming into my ears, while at the same time having a client also talking into my ears on the phone!)

*Avoiding crowded places or events. Any place that is crowded inevitably has various lines of auditory input happening, usually music, voices and other noises like cooking, cars, etc. I will go to the occasional concert or street event if the event is worth the discomfort to me, but very rarely and only for like 1-2 hours tops. It’s difficult to enjoy the music/food/event and converse comfortably at the same time for me, unless we can find a quiet spot to have some seclusion from the noise. Usually, I just avoid these events and prefer to spend 1-on-1 time with said persons in a quieter situation. I am also someone who generally prefers connecting 1-on-1 with someone, as opposed to experiencing an event, when it comes to how I recreate and recharge and enjoy. Also, typical introvert quality.

*Asking for what I need. This has taken time for me to learn, but now I just don’t care and I ask. In many cases my friends, family, drivers, waiters have been able to lower the volume on things to a level that is more comfortable for me. I also am not afraid to share this sensitivity and explain it to people anymore. This is how I am and I would like to fully hear you and engage in our conversation, so can we turn down the music?

So, thanks for reading! Know that there are probably many people in your life who have this sensitivity and maybe just rarely ask for what they need. Know that it’s ok to ask them, to ask anyone, if music is too loud or if crowded places are not their thing. There are more of us than you think out here, curating our noise levels so as to engage in a full way with those who we love and the world around us!

(Photos: Unsplash)

#introvertlife #infj #hsp #highlysensitive #introvert #extrovert #friendship #boundaries #curatenoise #askforwhatyouneed #ponderings

[lotsofdogs]

Dinosaurs, Doughnuts and Lake Nights

Hey, hey, hey! How are things going with all of you today!? I hope you had a great weekend.

With sunny skies and temperatures in the mid-80s both Saturday and Sunday, it felt like the first official weekend of summer in Charlotte!

Saturday

Early Friday morning I wasn’t sure what the weekend would look like for us since Chase was sick on Thursday but by late Friday morning he was fever-free, energetic and back to acting like his normal self. I’m not sure what was up last week but the 24-hour fever that kicked in on Thursday seemed to pass quickly and our two days of rest at home seemed to do the trick. When Chase woke up on Saturday morning (at 5:45 a.m. – phew!), he seemed 100 percent normal and after double checking his temperature, we figured we were in the clear to commence with weekend fun!

We really wanted to take Chase  to see the new Tyrannosaurus exhibition that opened last weekend at Discovery Place Uptown and after reserving tickets for the 9:15 a.m. slot, we drove into the city to begin our dinosaur adventure.

I am one of the biggest fans of Discovery Place and Discovery Place Kids (we’ve been members of both since Chase was a baby and plan to be for years to come) but this exhibition was unfortunately a bit disappointing. I admittedly think a lot of this had to do with Chase’s age, but the exhibit wasn’t very extensive and we were in and out in about 15 minutes. Chase is SUPER into dinosaurs and the T-Rex is by far his favorite so we had really high hopes but I think the dark lights and growling dinosaur noises put him on edge from the beginning.

Chase thought the excavation station was pretty neat and we spent some time using tools to look for dinosaur bones but all in all, Chase was waaay more into the usual Discovery Place museum attractions than this exhibit.

One thing that did impress us was the way Discovery Place included dinosaur fun throughout the museum to go along with the temporary exhibition. Chase loved flipping through dinosaur books and playing with the giant dinosaur toys in the children’s area!

We spent a solid two hours at Discovery Place before breaking away and driving to NoDa, Charlotte’s historic arts and entertainment district, to walk around and grab doughnuts at Reigning Donuts, one of our local favorites.

Ryan and I were both victims of social media jealousy and felt left out when we realized we missed National Donut Day on Friday so we celebrated a day late with half a dozen doughnuts. Since doughnuts are one of Chase’s favorite foods, he was more than excited to join in our sugarfest!

We arrived home just before 1 p.m. and while Ryan settled Chase down for his nap, I immediately headed back out and drove up to Epic Chophouse in Mooresville for my friend Jess’ baby sprinkle. Jess is due with a baby girl at the end of July and it was so much fun to celebrate her little one on the way, dig into delicious food and chat with some of my friends. It was quite dark in the restaurant so I didn’t snap any pictures that turned out well but it was a beautiful sprinkle!

By the time I made it back home, Chase was up from his nap and Ryan, Chase and I did a little dinner prep for the birthday dinner we were hosting for our friend Ben. We made a big spread that included marinated flank steak with chimichurri (both recipes are go-tos for us when we host friends and come from Juli Bauer’s Paleo Cookbook), roasted sweet potatoes and broccoli, pico de gallo salad and berries with coconut cream. Plus ice cream for dessert because that’s a nightly necessity for me right now. It was great to catch up with Ben and celebrate his special day!

Sunday

Sunday morning began bright and early and I kicked things off with a little meal planning while a batch of peanut butter baked steel cut oatmeal baked away in the oven. Once everyone was up and fed, we headed out on a family walk before church. I made sure to bring my favorite basketball along on the trek!

Sunday was one of those random days of pregnancy where I just felt really GOOD. It was so nice and a welcomed reprieve from how I’ve been feeling lately! I wasn’t too tired, no nausea kicked in and I wasn’t overly uncomfortable until I tried to go to sleep at night. It was awesome! (That is NOT a hint for our baby to stay in there for too much longer. I definitely don’t envy late deliveries at all and can totally see myself looking back at this post at 41 weeks pregnant wanting to smack myself! Sunday was just one of those surprisingly good pregnancy days where I didn’t feel as much physical discomfort as usual so it was pretty sweet.)

We made it to the early morning church service and of course I cried when we sang “Reckless Love” because that’s what I do whenever I hear that song. Phew!

(I think the above not-so-great pic was the first pic Ryan, Chase and I have together with my belly. Yeesh!)

After church, I dropped Ryan off at Ben’s house because they had plans to work out together and then Chase and I drove to ALDI to pick up groceries for the week ahead. Meal planning made the trip a breeze and we arrived back home with a bunch of goodies!

Here’s a glimpse at our meal plan for the week:

Monday: Chicken Taco Skillet (served with tortillas, diced tomatoes and guacamole)

Tuesday: Perfect Roast Chicken with Sweet Potatoes, Carrots and Onions (and possibly creamy mashed cauliflower if I’m feelin’ it)

Wednesday: Winter Chopped Salad

Thursday: Frittata and Blueberry Banana Protein Pancakes (Breakfast for dinner!)

Friday: Wing it!

Ryan made it home from the gym right before Chase went down for his nap and while he read him some books, I got a jump start on typing up this blog post and responded to a few work-related emails that were nagging me in the back of my mind.

Once Chase was awake, we took advantage of the gorgeous sunny weather and made our way onto the lake for some early evening swimming and boating.

The lake water is slowly warming up and it felt so good to splash around and swim with my crew!

We docked briefly at Hello, Sailor where we filled our boat up with gas and ordered burgers, fries and watermelon to go to eat on the boat as we made our way to a little beach to drop anchor for a swim.

(Can you tell I was on a mission for a better family photo after realizing the church pic from earlier in the day was the only one I have of us with my bump? Ha!)

This was actually the first time Ryan got to witness the glory that is Chase’s new puddle jumper and he was just as psyched as I was the first time I saw Chase have a ball in that thing!

I swear Chase could swim for hours and hours in his puddle jumper and would have had we not needed to get him home to unwind a bit before bed.

Chase ended up going to bed on the later side of the evening so Ryan and I followed suit and climbed into our bed right after we put him down for the night. I continued reading The Identicals by Elin Hilderbrand which I’m 99 percent sure is my first novel by the incredibly popular author. I was in the market for a quintessential summer beach read and based on the Amazon reviews, this one seemed to check all the boxes. So far it’s light and easy and entertaining but some parts make me want to say, “Okay, get on with it already…” I’m about a third of the way through it and am enjoying it enough that I find myself looking forward to reading it at the end of the day, so I’ll keep on keepin’ on.

I hope  you all had a great weekend and enjoy an even better week ahead! Thanks for stopping by PBF today!

[Read More ...] https://www.pbfingers.com/dinosaurs-doughnuts-and-lake-nights/

#health #fitness

[shiraglassman]

Jamaican lesbian romance rec

Review originally posted on The Lesbrary. Bliss by Jamaican-American author Fiona Zedde is a finding-your-place story as much as it is a love story; or you could say it’s a love story between a woman and the self she’s supposed to be or the type of life she’s supposed to be living. It’s also highly erotic, reveling in the sensuality of its characters’ bodies, but in a respectful and almost reverential way that elevates ordinary body parts to a sort of glowing, visceral divinity.

Bliss Sinclair, a Jamaican-American woman who goes by Sinclair in honor of her dead mother’s surname, has been living a fairly tropey “money can’t buy you happiness” existence as a high-powered accountant on the gazillionth floor of a fancy building. She doesn’t really have friends who mean anything to her and she tolerates her boyfriend’s affection because it’s what you do. Lesbian identity is sitting on her emotional front porch stoop playing on its phone but she hasn’t quite had the courage to open the door yet.

When she finally does get a chance to figure out that she’s really only attracted to women, she gets taken advantage of by a woman who is pushy and misleading. The inevitable happens, at which point she heads back to Jamaica for an extended vacation to see her father and meet his new wife and kid. She quickly winds up introduced to the local lesbian community and has to learn everybody’s old drama as she’s also getting used to being around her family again.

I found most of the supporting characters and the relational world Zedde sets up for this story really appealing–there’s an immense sense of interconnectedness that includes the dead characters we never get to meet in person as well. Zedde also gives us a rich, vivid, and easy to picture world of tropical plants, Jamaican food, what kinds of things there are to do in Jamaica if you’re there on vacation, and what kinds of jobs the locals do. Whiteness hovers in the background as a clueless, absent employer but is never really present on-screen.

There is a lot of sex in this book, but there are also a lot of scenes of the main character playing tourist on beaches and historic buildings, going to parties or restaurants, enjoying time with her family, etc. I just feel like if I had been counting the sex scenes I would have run out of fingers (and yes, I phrased it that way on purpose :P )

This is not a book that ignores the violent reality that anyone visibly queer in Jamaica may encounter, but because Zedde is writing from the inside and not from the point of view of some privileged white non queer writer, both the book’s scenes of attempted sexual violence from the hands of multiple strange men are:

1. foiled, completely and utterly

2. take up a very brief space in the narrative; they occur over the course of a page or two, are fended off, are processed emotionally with tears or a day of quiet or whatever else is necessary, and then we move on

3. they are not intended as a rejection of Jamaica. This is important. Over at @writingwithcolor, we all get questions from people outside various marginalized groups trying to write about the ways that group mistreats vulnerable folks within its own LGBT community. I prefer to leave this narrative to people in the overlap of both groups, because comparing what Zedde writes to what some of these privileged writers write you can see the difference – at one point, one of the Jamaican lesbians even says “you have to love Jamaica anyway.” This is home; the food, the culture, the scenery, the history, the music. The problem is recognized but it’s not enough to drive them out and away into other places that may very well be just as physically dangerous.

I found the main character herself more appealing as a person than any of her love interests, honestly – obviously the first one was pushy beyond belief, but one on the island came on really strong as well and I had to just believe in Sinclair’s immense attraction to her being what wore down her initial “I have a broken heart and you come on super strong, meep” feelings.

Another topic about which Zedde writes much better than a privileged person trying to write about a marginalized community further marginalizing its LGBT members, is Sinclair’s father’s reaction to her lesbianism. I was stunned at how well this was pulled off because I’d never seen a character come around so realistically and so quickly. He’s upset, but a few pages later he dials it back and says that a lot of his upset is probably unfair. Can white, non-queer people trying to write about “oppressive” non-white or non-American parents please take a lesson from this book? 

Anyway, aside from that issue I thought it was a great and realistic and familiar depiction of what happens when a parent who loves their child has discomfort with their choice of partner or sexuality but is trying to work around it. We don’t see too much of that in LGBT fiction; I’ve seen a lot of either ultra-acceptance (realistic for some of us, and even those who aren’t need some wish fulfillment) or ultra-disgustingness (cathartic and important to write from the inside; tragedy porn and sometimes not even written in a way that rings true, when writing from the outside.) A family that invites a girlfriend over for dinner and no horrible “I knew you’d ruin the evening!” argument happens even though one of the members feels negatively about the idea of a gay daughter is another way to be realistic, and belongs on the page. And it’s not like you as a reader are constantly made aware of his negativity, either. 

Some choice quotes, so you can get a feel for the book’s snappy dialogue and evocative descriptors:

Sinclair: “Do you come downtown often?” First girlfriend: “If you’ll let me, I’ll come at least two times today.”

Waitress: “Can I get you two anything to drink today?” One of the main characters, about the other main character: “Some manners for her.”

Island love interest about the first girlfriend: “If she was worth half your sighs she would have been here with you on her knees apologizing for hurting you.”

Description of main character’s young stepmom: “short reddish hair that stood up around her head like a tamed flame”

Overall, the story tells itself; it flows really well and makes you want to keep reading. This isn’t the kind of book where you read a paragraph and then have to read it again because you didn’t catch what happens. In other words, Also, kudos to Zedde for using the phrase “maggot-white penis” to refer to a naked white guy in a BDSM club, because it reminded me of those posts pointing out how nobody talks about whiteness with the kind of evocative overscrutinizing detail usually afforded to darker skin in fiction.

Trigger warnings: two foiled attempts at sexual assault by multiple men in the Jamaica half of the book. The second time the women beat up the men pretty badly; it’s over quickly and you can skip the second time if you nope out for a couple of pages when they get to a place in the woods with tons of pretty tropical flowers. 

Also, the first girlfriend’s behavior is borderline abusive in the sense that she puts Sinclair in situations she doesn’t want to be in and basically demands a veto as negative consent instead of asking if things are okay beforehand, and I’m talking big deal things like surprising her with orgies or kink clubs. Sometimes they are okay and sometimes they are not and Sinclair takes steps accordingly each time. Plus, she’s the kind of person who says “You’re an incredible fuck. Yet you’re so naïve. You’re like my lost childhood. My virginity.” which I know someone who had that said to them in real life and I've always found it super creepy (so does Sinclair.)

#jamaican #lesbian books #wlw #sapphic #femslash #bliss #assault attempt mention #kink mention #consent issues mention #consent #qwoc

[come-join-themurder]

67 Short Pieces of Advice You Didn’t Ask For

I read this list today (link in the title) and I couldn’t NOT share it with my followers. Some sound advice here, guys! [I bolded the ones I strongly agreed with lol]

1. Ignore 1-star and 5-star reviews of books, hotels and products. The 3-star reviews will answer all your questions.

2. When you’re a host, use that experience to learn how to be a better guest, and vice-versa.

3. If you want to be fit, become someone who doesn’t skip or reschedule workouts. Skipping workouts is always the beginning of the end.

4. Learn keyboard shortcuts. If you don’t know what CTRL + Z does, your life is definitely harder than it has to be.

5. Become a stranger’s secret ally, even for a few minutes. Your perception of strangers in general will change.

6. Get over the myth that philosophy is boring — it has a history of changing lives. It’s only as boring as the person talking about it.

7. If you’re about to put down a boring a non-fiction book, skim the rest of it before you move on. Read the bits that still appeal to you.

8. Ask yourself if you’ve become a relationship freeloader. Initiate the plans about half the time.

9. Notice how much you talk in your head, and experiment with listening to your surroundings instead. You can’t do both at the same time.

10. Reach out to people you know are shy. It’s hard for them to get involved in social things without somebody making a point of including them.

11. Learn the difference between something that makes you feel bad, and something that’s wrong. A thing can feel bad and be right, and it can feel good and be wrong.

12. If you need to stop for any reason in a public place, move off to the side first.

13. Before you share an interesting “fact” on Facebook, take thirty seconds to Google it first, to see if you’re spreading made-up bullshit.

14. Clean things up right away, unless your messes tend to improve with age.

15. Consciously plan your life, or others will do it for you.

16. Be suspicious when someone uses the words “Justice” and “Deserve” a lot. Be suspicious when you use them yourself.

17. Get rid of stuff you don’t use. Unused and unappreciated things make us feel bad.

18. Expect people to get offended sometimes when you try to tell them what to do. Even if you think it’s good advice :)

19. Once in a while, imagine what it would be like if you really did lose all your data and had only your current backups.

20. Spend as long as it takes — five or ten years even — to move towards a line of work that feels well-suited to you.

21. Rediscover board games. They’re still tons of fun.

22. Try making small, humble presents instead of buying big ones, and see how different it feels for both you and the recipient.

23. To eat fewer calories, eat a lot slower than normal and see what changes.

24. Watch experts peform their chosen art whenever you get a chance. There’s something really grounding about it.

25. Avoid arguing about politics, except for entertainment value. By the time it’s an argument, nobody’s listening.

26. Ledger all your income, purchases and expenses, at least for a whole month. You can’t help but discover wasteful spending. It’s like giving yourself a raise.

27. When someone disagrees with you, try to understand what needs and fears are behind their stance. Yours probably aren’t much different.

28. When driving, pretend the other drivers are all friends and relatives. It makes the driving experience friendlier, and often hilarious.

29. Don’t act while you’re still angry. Anger makes the wrong things seem right, and remorse lasts way longer than anger.

30. Understand that what’s dangerous and what’s illegal are always going to be different, and need to be. It doesn’t always make sense to criminalize something just because it can be harmful.

31. Don’t be late. Everyone hates waiting for late people.

32. Read Richard Carlson’s classic Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff.  Or read it again if it’s been a while. Fifteen years after I first read it, I can’t think of a more helpful book.

33. Be aware of the complex, systemic nature of the world’s biggest problems, and our habit of framing them as simple ones with clear villains and victims.

34. When you’re with a loved one, pretend momentarily that they’re actually gone from your life, and that you’re just remembering this ordinary moment with them.

35. Make of point of sitting and chatting with at least one local whenever you travel. It will transform your view of the place. [It’s easy to meet a local resident for coffee using couchsurfing.org]

36. Experiment with meditation. It gives you tools to mitigate nearly every thing human beings complain about — fear, boredom, loss, envy, pain, sadness, confusion, and doubt — yet remains unpopular in the West.

37. Give classical music another shot every few years.

38. Read a bit about some of the “isms” you normally dismiss — socialism, capitalism, conservatism, feminism, anarchism. There are probably more good ideas there than you thought.

39. Be wary of declaring yourself a “_____ist” though. Making an identity out of your beliefs is bound to make you less objective.

40. Picture yourself at your own funeral. Imagine what they are thinking.

41. Donate clothes that you don’t feel good wearing.

42. Practice opening up to minor discomfort when it happens — really letting yourself feel it instead of resisting it. Everything becomes easier to handle.

43. Listen to Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” slowed down to 33 rpm, at least once in your life.

44. Don’t make jokes about people’s names or bodies, even if you think they would laugh.

45. Make a point of enjoying the walk across the parking lot.

46. Understand the concept of “privilege,” but don’t use it as a slur. Use your privilege for good.

47. Don’t limit your compassion to people who don’t cause any harm (because there are none.)

48. Be aware of the intoxicating effect of bad moods. A bad mood usually means things are better than they look.

49. Once in a while, imagine that this moment is the very first moment of your life, and then build a future from there.

50. Go to your city’s low-key ethnic restaurants instead of flashy chain establishments — not to “help out the little guy” but because they’re better and cheaper.

51. Avoid being the least sober person in the room, unless you’re the only person in the room.

52. Go to New York, at least once.

53. Consider keeping a bucket list that you take seriously. They stave off complacency.

54. Remember that you’re essentially no different from prehistoric humans, except that you have tools and advantages they would find ridiculous.

55. If life ever feels like it’s too loud and busy, go hang out at the library.

56. Never hide from truths about your financial position. If you’re afraid to know your bank balance, you have a problem bigger than money problems.

57. If you think dancing isn’t for you, try it again sometime.

58. When you’re about to buy something, think about what feeling you’re actually after. Ultimately we only want things because of how they promise to make us feel.

59. Floss every day. You can fool yourself but you can’t fool your dentist, or your teeth.

60. Be extra kind to people while they are at work, especially servers, clerks, and tech support staff.

61. Whenever you’re being contradicted, try not to get caught up in being defensive. You’re either right, or you get to learn something new today.

62. At least consider taking religion’s five central no-no’s seriously: don’t steal, don’t lie, don’t kill, don’t harm people with your reproductive urges, and don’t drink so much that you forget the other four.

63. Own at least one plant. They’ll never judge you, but they’ll let you know if you’re being careless.

64. Try not to let a week go by without having lunch or coffee with a friend.

65. Do 30-day experiments for fun and sport — try out a new way of doing something for a while. Even if they’re train wrecks you always learn something about yourself.

66. Appeal to your friends for their expertise. You get good advice, they feel valued.

67. Write people letters. Everyone loves getting letters.

#Helpful #advice #unsolicited advice #random #come-join-themurder #non-soa #personal

[shellyscribbles]

Excerpt from Blackout: 6

             Kaitlyn looked through the peep hole, he looked different, but it was Wyatt.  She opened the door. He turned and presented her with a bouquet of flowers.  There were daisies, day lilies, and a few other flowers she didn’t recognize. She accepted them with a smile.

             “You look great.” He smiled.  

             Kaitlyn stared at him a moment, “You shaved.”

             “Yeah, thought I’d try the clean look for a while,” he stroked his chin as he spoke.  “You don’t like it do you?”

             She wrinkled her face, “I liked the beard.”

             He shrugged, “Well, it’ll grow back.”

             “Come in for a minute so I can put these in water. They’re pretty. Thank you.” She dug through her cupboards to find a suitable container since she didn’t have a proper vase to put them in.  She settled on a tea pitcher.  

             “Alright.” With the flowers now in water, she grabbed her purse.  “Where are we going?” She asked as she locked the door once they stepped outside.

             “Tony’s Italian restaurant.  I’m not from here, but the reviews on it were good.” He looked at her with a hopeful smile.  She was frowning again, “What?  Is it not good?”

             “No, it is pretty popular, I just don’t pay for Italian food.” She shrugged as he guided them to his car.

             “Well, you aren’t paying for it.”

             “I just mean its some of the cheapest food to make at home, why pay to have someone else do it?”

             Wyatt stopped, “Alright, at some point, I am taking you to my town and showing you why you pay for someone to make Italian food right.”

             “I guess you’ll have to order for me.”

             When they reached the car, he walked to her side to unlock and open the door for her.  She smiled, thinking to herself that he was trying too hard.  It was nice though.  She could be in this situation with a much different person.  

             “So how are you feeling?”

             “Hmm?” Kaitlyn turned her attention to him, she had been absorbed in the activities of a child in the car beside them.

             “With the pregnancy, how are you feeling?  Do you have morning sickness and stuff?” He hoped the conversation wouldn’t get too deep; he had just used most of what he knew about pregnancy.

             “Some.  It’s not too bad.”

             “That’s good.”

             They remained mostly quiet during the drive save a few more feeble attempts made by Wyatt to engage Kaitlyn who, feeling vulnerable and uncertain of her choice remained aloof.

             “I’ll get your door.” Wyatt said rushing out of his seat.

             “Is it broken? Or do you think I am?” She mumbled more to herself than anything.

             “What?”

             “Your door handle works right?” She said.

             Wyatt smiled, “Yes, the door handles all work.  I am trying to woo you, dear.” He offered his arm to her which she accepted with a suppressed smile and shake of her head, “What?  Is it too much?”

             “Its movie stuff.” She scrunched her nose up.

             “Well that’s kind of our life now.  We got drugged, married, and pregnant in Vegas; I might as well try to add something classy to it.”

             “I got pregnant in Vegas.” She corrected.

             “Oh, I feel pregnant my dear.” He said with a note of sarcasm.

             She laughed, “Oh, do you?”

             “Yep.  This is modern man nesting.” He pulled the door to the restaurant open and stood aside for her.              “You spoil me like this the first date, what will I think when you stop?” She was beginning to enjoy the banter.

             “Just as long as you remember I did it at some point.” He smiled.

             “Right.”

             Having never been inside the restaurant, Kaity took in the design and decoration as they followed the host to their booth. It was a rounded both with a single curved bench.  Kaitly groaned internally.  The banter was fun, but he would probably try to be overly romantic in a setting like this. It was probably why he picked it.

             Kaity picked up the menu.  She didn’t recognize as many of the dishes as she thought she would. Maybe there was more to an Italian restaurant than spaghetti.  

             “I thought I was ordering for you?” Wyatt teased. He had stayed a respectful distance from her, contrary to what Kaitlyn had anticipated.  He hid it well, but he felt trepidation now that he had gotten her out on a date.  He had to impress her.  He didn’t seem to be doing a good job.

             “Right,” she closed the menu and crossed her hands over it, “What am I getting?”

             “Do you like Eggplant?” His eyes ran over his own menu.

             “I’ve never tried it.  Is there meat involved?”

             “There is cheese involved.” He watched to see her reaction.  It was not promising. “Alright,” he thought a moment, “Oh!  What about pizza, have you had actual Italian pizza?”

             She smiled, mildly amused, “I have had pizza.”

             “Not like a pizza joint pizza, but Italian pizza. The best pizza is from Italian restaurants.”

             “Alright.  Do they have a supreme type pizza?” She opened the menu again.

             “Yeah I think so, it’s the Mario’s special I think.” He smiled as he saw she was much keener on this idea, “I bet a white wine would go really good with it too.” He continued smiling, but he could see he had lost her somewhere.

             “Wine?”

             “I’m not trying to do anything, I just, Italian food and wine, it goes.” He scolded himself for even suggesting drinks.  Of course, she didn’t want to have a drink with him after how they met.

             Kaitlyn watched his reaction with some confusion. “I can’t have wine.”

             “Right, ‘cause the baby.  You’re pregnant, so you can’t have wine.  That’s right.”

             Seeing his embarrassment, she turned her attention to her water, “It’s really nice in here.  This mural is beautiful.  I wonder how much it cost to have someone paint something that size.”

             Wyatt jumped gratefully at the change of subject, “Right?  That would take a lot of time.  Lots of paint.”

             Before their discomfort could grow into something painful again, the waiter arrived to take their order.  After some confusion about whether or not they would share the pizza, their order was placed and they were left to each other once more.

#blackout #blackout excerpt #story time #writing #wip #first draft #rough cut #Wyatt and Kaitlyn #first dates #first date #blackout excerpt 6

[wanderingheartana]

— ✗ SCRIPTED. — ✗ Time Period: Late September, 2014. — ✗ TW: Mentions of a serious illness and depression. A month ago, she’d been planning her next trip at the tail end of the one she’d been currently having. She’d been thinking about the sights she could see, reviewing the language and repeating phrases to herself while she was doing her daily activities and building up her excitement for it. She’d been thinking about the different culture and the ways she could immerse herself in it. As was customary for, she had decided to spend a night or two at home in the palace with her parents with her next trip coming up. It was a means of going on about the different royals she’d meet, talk about getting to know their people. Which of course was her way of getting her parents to settle down and believe she still had any interest at all in the throne. It was her way of keeping them off her back about marriage alliances and taking on more responsibilities. As long as they thought she was acting more like a diplomat than a nomad, they didn’t make her stay home. But this time had been different. After the last time she’d gone out, she’d convinced the royals who’d been hosting her to go do some of the activities in the main parts of the town they resided in. Activities that weren’t conventional for royals by any means. It hadn’t seem to upset them, but word had gone back to her mother and father about her comfort with the commoners, her lack of the eloquence and respect for her own title. She’d gotten a mouthful as soon as she’d gotten home. Her parents were furious. They told her she wasn’t just degrading herself, but respecting all royals who had come before her, those who had struggled to get power and change their country for the better. They laid into her, even going as far to talk about the shame they were bringing about them. She felt guilt, that much was true, but not enough for her to want to stop. When she had been coming back from the edge of death, what kept her in the realm of the living was traveling. It’d brought her back to life, and she told her parents that much. They didn’t like it. They told her it was time to stay home for a while. Instead of fighting with them, she decided trying to sneak off in the middle of the night was the answer. It definitely wasn’t the right one. When she got caught, she got another earful. And they finally told her their plan for her. There had been a new program for Royals who’d lost their way, and they’d been reluctant about putting her or her brother in it, but with her lack of respect for her title, they knew she needed it. And with that and a phone call, she’d been enrolled. Within a week she had been shipped off to the place. It’d been a month since then, and Ana had adapted to the schedule, but it didn’t mean she liked it. She was certain her and the others of their small program were all in complete agreement that the place – while presented with the best intention – was a glorified, dressed-up prison. She hated every minute she spent there. They were barely allowed out, restricted by curfews and early wake ups. Even their meals were planned. It was too much like before, when she’d been on practical house arrest after first coming back to the hospital. She had even gone back to her coping strategies from then. A lot of which included isolating herself in her room her parents had decorated like the one back home and burying her nose in a book. Or going out to the courtyard or garden when she thought she might spiral into a black hole if she stared at those four walls anymore. It was far, far too much like home. And not in a good way. As much as she understood the teachers, guards, janitors, chefs and even the headmistress were just doing their jobs, it didn’t make the fact that she was a prisoner to her royal life any easier to swallow. After a morning of classes that included the most boring parts of the history of her country and an etiquette class, she was finally dismissed for lunch. Even if the food was prepared in a flashy style and was consider high end, she would have preferred sampling dishes from street vendors and local restaurants like she always did when she was travelling. It wasn’t as if she knew how to cook and fend for herself when it came to that aspect anyway. She’d fetched herself a salad, a vegetable wrap and one of the tarts being served with dessert before heading to a seat in the back of the cafeteria, as close to the door as she could get. Usually, the royals all left around the same time and she hated being stuck in the crowd between them all, so she tried to eat quickly and head out early to read before class. Staying true to her usual schedule, she started eating as soon as she sat down, sitting somewhat stiffly and keep an eye on the other students in the cafeteria. She was in the middle of stabbing at the spinach leaves in her bowl when she spotted a man walking her way. He was familiar, one of the other royals and he was in a few of her more generic classes, not that he ever showed up. From what she heard of the gossip from other royals, he was a hard ticket. She wasn’t sure of the extent of it, since she was usually only overhearing the gossip and never quite searching for details, but she could put it together. She knew how they’d all been raised, she also knew she’d just as likely be just another princess blowing all the money she had on dresses and tiaras if she hadn’t gotten sick like she did. So she certainly tried hard to not to judge those who simply behaved the way they’d been taught to. Ana highly suspected the man was on his way out, but much to her surprise, he wasn’t. Instead, as if he didn’t quite know what he was doing he sat right down beside her. She had spent seven years out of the circuit. She wasn’t raised alongside the other royals. And they hadn’t forgotten it. Even if her presences at the palaces and dinners and parties had become more frequent after she’d gotten better, she wasn’t one of her peers. Most times they just ignored her now that they’d realized she wasn’t much into the things they were. But he wasn’t, for some reason. “Hello,” she said, trying to hide her awkward nature. She might have been able to easily converse with commoners, but royals like hers? She’d forgotten the language a long time ago. Sitting up a little straighter, she did her best a covering her stiff posture and her clear discomfort. This seemed to amuse him. A lopsided grin formed on his lips. This only made her more uncomfortable. Most people sized her up, trying to decide if she was a threat, or if perhaps she was prey – at least most royals did. None of them smiled at her liked that. They usually dismissed her pretty quickly. And she was inclined to agree with such an assessment. Though her appearance had improved, and her thin, frail body had filled out, the dark circles under her eyes had gone away, and her hair had grown back, she was still different. She still had the ugly scars, she still was paler than others, and her body was still thinner than it might have been if she hadn’t been sick once. It was hard to see herself as beautiful with all that. And she didn’t think other people would either. Having him smile at her like that, it was confusing, because people didn’t smile like that at people at her. “My name is Ryder Brooks, and you’re Anastasia,” he introduced himself, as well as making it clear he knew her, holding out his hand. Warily, she carefully took his hand, shaking it light. In a fluid motion, he took her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. Her cheeks flushed a red color and she looked down to hide it. Nineteen years old and blushing like a school girl. Internally she scolded herself. “Anastasia Deutch, yes,” she commented carefully, trying not to seem too overly awkward. All the while she was lecturing herself about how stiff she likely seemed. How was it she could carry on the most complex conversations with the people she met on the street but could barely hold her own in a room full of the people that she was considered one of? “I have to admit, I’ve seen you in our general history class a few times, it’s hard to ignore someone so beautiful,” not missing a beat, confidence radiating off of him, he delivered the sentence without a hitch. Something she’d never been able to do with another royal. Once again, she was looking down at her tray, her hands now interlocked on her lap, fidgeting nervously. Her face was red once more. Even though she didn’t want it to be, and didn’t quite trust the man in front of her. Maybe he was just someone who decided she was open and vulnerable enough to get in some sort of marriage alliance. “I’m sure there’s people in our class far more distracting,” it might have gotten her point across if she hadn’t pretty much stammered her way through the whole sentence instead of delivering it with the cold ease she’d wanted it to come out with. “I’m inclined to disagree. The others are looking for the attention, always sitting in the front, talking in class or answering every question they can. Everyone does it in a different way. But not you. You sit in the back, trying to blend in with the others. You don’t want to be noticed. But you’re worth noticing,” he seemed amused by his initial observance of her. And he wasn’t necessarily wrong either, aside from the last part. A fact that made her far more uncomfortable. “I just like the seat,” she tried to dismiss the truth in his words. Deception was something she was good at. Pretending she was still interested in the throne, telling her doctors and parents she was feeling much better to get them to stop hovering – lying had become a skill set that was necessary if she wanted to live the life she wanted. But she was a lot more believable when she wasn’t an awkward, flustered mess. An amused chuckle left him. She let her green eyes look up from her salad – where they’d been glued as she tried to get that blush to fade – she took him in, as carefully as possible. He was handsome, but he wasn’t necessarily dressed up and styled to each and every strand out of place like most royals usually were. He was more rugged in a way. His face was still clean shaven and his hair probably had some sort of gel in it, but every bit of him was designed to look a certain way. With a well-defined jawline and bright blue eyes, she’d have a hard time admitting he wasn’t handsome. A thought which just made her feel more heat rising to her cheeks. Thankfully, he didn’t point it out – a small mercy on her part. “I suppose you’re not the type for dancing are you?” He asked with that little lopsided grin taking over his features again. “What do you mean?” She asked, thankful for the change of subject, as confused as she was about it. At least this one didn’t make her feel like she’d turn to the shade of a cherry tomato. “The Black and White Ball that’s coming up, I’m guessing you’re not planning on going,” he motioned to one of the posters on the wall behind her. She glanced back at for a moment. It was elaborately designed, featuring a flashy display of photos. She tried not to sigh. “No, it’s not really my thing,” she told him. Every time she’d gone to one of those events back home, she had been bored out of her mind during every minute. It was hours of time she had to spend standing perfectly straight under hundreds of layers of fabric as she talked about all the plans for her country – none of which were actually her ideas but instead ones her parents planned on pushing. Especially after she was just recovering, she’d hated them. Her parents would often have her spending time with a boy her age they’d deemed fit for her to one day wed. A boy who held her at arms-length and tried to ignore her short hair while clearly eyeing another girl that was much prettier. Just the idea of another of those events made her want to crawl out of her skin. “I didn’t think it was. Usually it’s just a bunch of social climbers staking out every chance they can get to show off all the many things they own and try to make the scripts coming off their lips seem natural,” he seemed amused by this. That comment took her aback. Most royals didn’t ever talk about other royals in such a way. The social climbing thing maybe, but usually the scripted laws and inspirational ideas were never brought up. It was like a secret they all knew but never mentioned. It kind of shocked her he’d do such a thing. “That’s an unpopular opinion,” she stated carefully, her instincts telling her to be careful with what she said, even though the better part of her was inclined to agree. She scanned him over again, trying not to look too much like she was trying to figure him out. He was a royal, but he didn’t act like one. “You’re right, it is. But there’s so few original thinkers in this world I find it important that the few who are blessed with such gifts use them,” he remarked, his smug nature showing a bit. He clearly thought himself to be one of those original thinkers. Even though she wouldn’t admit it at risk of stroking his ego, she was inclined to agree. At least out of the people she’d interacted with so far. Or maybe they shared such thoughts too, but were just better at hiding them. “You know what is good at those events though. The food. Dessert and candy bars make the events tolerable.” She grinned a little at that, memories of her childhood of indulging on cupcakes all night during the event and dancing off her sugar rush with her parents and the children her age playing in her mind. Sure, she’d have a bad stomach later, but it didn’t stop her from doing it all over again next time at the parties. “Right again,” she said, not as much awkwardness in her comment this time, thankfully. “And while all those tasty treats will probably be served as desserts for our upcoming meals the following day, they won’t be quite as good after sitting out for the better part of night,” he trailed off. “You’re probably right,” she said carefully. Maybe if he’d been just another person like those she usually met on her travels, she might have picked up on what he was saying, but he was a royal, and she was fairly unsure of what he was getting at. Much to her confusion, he reached for the flower centerpiece sitting on the table. Just another decoration meant to try and imitate a fancy hotel or the palaces back home. She’d noticed they always had fresh flower arrangements on every table. Today it was a medley of roses and baby’s breath. With ease, he picked out one of the white roses. “What are you doing?” She asked him. She wasn’t sure if he would get a scolding for such a thing or not. She didn’t think any other royal had ever thought of doing such a thing. Though, they were likely all tossed out after the day was done anyway. It was probably better off with whatever he planned to do it. Instead of answering right away, he held out the rose to her. She blinked a couple of times before reaching out uncertainly, taking it from him. “I’m asking you if you might be able to put up with the politics and overdressed princes and princesses at the ball in favor of the cupcakes and the company,” he said to her rather smoothly, a full grin on his lips. It took her just a second longer than it would usually would to realize what he was saying. And by then a full-fledged blush that /definitely/ made her resemble a cherry tomato took over her face. “I’m asking, if you’d do me the honor of going to the ball as my date,” he clarified, proud as ever of himself. Anastasia was pretty blown away. It wasn’t like she hadn’t gotten such questions before, but none of them had been built up to by a conversation about more than just basic politics, or by someone who looked like he did. She tried to resist the urge to curl up in a ball to hide the pathetic blush on her face. Nineteen years old, she reminded herself. Maybe it was the shock, or maybe it was the fact that she was genuinely impressed with him, but the words left her lips before she could stop them. “Alright,” she stammered out, making her red she was sure. She definitely felt like going to hide somewhere. As if he was determined to make her as red as possible, he stood up and gave her a bow that she could tell was a mock of what was consider appropriate by the amusement on his face. “I will see you at the ball then, Princess Anastasia,” he winked at her, and without another word, turned around and left the cafeteria, leaving her in what she was sure was a state of shock.

#solos