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leupagus · 4 years

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My Stationery Box, or: The Douche Chest, or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Being A Terrible Parody Of Myself

So I really love to write letters, and have since i was a kid — when i cleaned out my grandparents’ house I found a few I’d written in grade school, and my parents’ files are chocablock full of the weird collage type things I sent to them in college.

I’ve also been a huge insufferable fucking snob about stationery since way too young (yes I did have a fountain pen phase, no it did not go well) and have been collecting fancy paper and cute cards and assorted weird writing paraphernalia forever. Up until recently, things were just kind of haphazardly stuffed in various drawers and shelves and I could never actually find any said fancy shit when I wanted it; but a couple of months ago I discovered an adorable little chest of my late mom’s that had previously housed, I think, her knitting and has mostly just been collecting dust since. And voila: The Douche Chest was born:

(Pictured with my elderly laptop and coffee with my coffee warmer, which I STRONGLY ENCOURAGE everyone to buy one day when we’re not under worldwide quarantine, seriously it will change your life.)

Keep Reading for some top tier stationerdery

First off, the stuff that helps me write! I still use my family address book, which was purchased sometime in the early 80s and has the name and address of everyone my parents ever cared enough about to want their name and address, which is actually not that many people. I keep it updated and have added a few people, but mostly rely on my phone’s address book. Mostly I like it because it’s got a lot of my mom’s handwriting.

My planner, which has a whole correspondence section where I keep a record of who I write to regularly, when I write to them, and what kind of stationery they usually get (because there are different types and you don’t want to give a correspondence an inconsistent letter-reading experience! Yes I know, I can’t believe I’m like this either) indicated by the m, s, x, l, b notations. That will be relevant later. Also yes the planner is where I scribble down both story ideas and my gratitude journal. This is what I’m saying in re: yikes.

At my own house, I have a whole huge box of letters I’ve gotten over the years, mostly organized by sender and date. Since I’m at my aunt’s house for quarantine, my correspondence is all being kept in my dad’s old... I dunno what to call it, basically it’s a trapper-keeper type thing that I literally never saw him go to work without. (A running theme of this tour is that a whole lot of this stuff is inherited from/given to me by my parents and grandparents.) Inside is also various labels that have come in handy when addressing packages etc, as well as our local neighborhood directory.

Next up is my pen bag, which is — I mean, it has my pens. I prefer writing with a black .5 tip rollerball type pen, and by “prefer” I mean “I cannot abide writing letters with anything else and will go to Staples and buy a new box rather than use a ballpoint pen except obv not right now, which makes the bag real important for keeping track of all my special pens.” Also pictured: my grandpa’s ancient letter opener that I’m pretty sure he stabbed multiple people with, and my blue Le Pen which I use to annotate my letters when I’m reading them through before sending. I KNOW.

This is my assorted letter-writing stuff storage box (no we’re not even at the cards yet this is TERRIBLE); please note that I sort of jerryrigged this box together myself, which will be another running theme of this tour. Glue, roller whiteout thingies, washi tape (which I don’t really use but people keep sending me?) post-its and my address stamp because no matter what I do, the fuckin’ Audubon Society refuses to send me a single donation request with cute stickers showing my address even though they’ve sent my deceased dad like three THIS YEAR. Anyway. Also please note the incredibly awesome initial stamp thing — I came up with the rough design in college and use it in place of my name a lot, but I went to leoniebunch and they transformed it into this super professional and lovely design that I want to use for the rest of my life. Not pictured: the fucking wax seal I also had made with that design, because yes, I’m like this.

WE’RE STILL NOT DONE WITH THE PARAPHERNALIA: here’s the other misc. stuff that I use on the regular. Cup with sponge because we’re not really licking envelopes these days: tons of weird stickers that I’ve collected, YET MORE PENS, including rainbow ones because one of these days I’m going to write to one of my friends with alternating rainbow colors and they’ll have to murder me. Also pictured: the letter opener which I forgot to put back in the pen bag, as well as my dog’s nail clippers and brush because that’s a handy place to keep them. Also also pictured: my dog, who does not help in any way with letter writing.

OKAY FINALLY ONTO THE STATIONERY, Jesus just writing this all out is making me both proud and ashamed.

I’m sure you noticed in the first pic how everything is meticulously, not to say monomaniacally, labeled. Some stuff might require a little bit of explanation; some stuff is pretty wysiwyg though. For example, BEAR CARDS, which:

(These are sent exclusively to my nephews, who go absolutely apeshit over them every time. Come to think of it, I have a LOT of cards/letter stock/etc that is just for one person or one set of people, which maybe I should talk to my therapist about.)

PUN CARDS are likewise exactly what you think they are; they’re the most recent addition to my hoard, having found them at Powells when I went to Portland in February. They are extremely My Kind Of Thing.

Then you’ve got things like BIRTHDAY CARDS, THANKS, POSTCARDS which like — guess what:

(Please note that of these birthday cards, all but two were actually inherited from my grandmother who passed away in 1986. See if you can guess which two are my purchases.) (Also I’m running out of thank-you cards but to be fair I am rarely grateful so this should last me another few years at least.) (Also shit, I didn’t take a picture of the postcards I don’t think? Whatever, they’re postcards that I’ve either inherited from my parents or collected over the years. There’s also a very odd collection of wolf-themed cards that SOMEONE in my family collected, and that I have been using exclusively for allighater because she’s the only one who could ever appreciate them enough.)

Then there’s the BLANK CARDS and BLANK AND WRITTEN CARDS WITH/WITHOUT ENVELOPES, because sometimes I just need to know what I’m getting into before opening the boxes. I’d say a good 50% of these were inherited from my folks, with the cutsier ones being my own purchases. The cards that these boxes originally contained are looooooooong since used up but they’re nice boxes and that meme about adulthood being an endless debate over whether or not you should keep a box because it’s a really good box is accurate as all hell.

(There are a lot of cards in here that I bought when I was like, in college �� those square ones, for example, were purchased at Faces in Northampton when I was in college and I’m probably never going to actually send them which is kind of ridiculous but see: this entire post.)

And finally, the actual letter-letter stationery! Which I also have an embarrassing amount of! First up is what’s labelled MADOC TREE CARD/LETTER because I honestly had no idea how else to describe it; it was inherited from my grandma who everyone called MaDoc (on account of her being both a ma and a doctor, go figure) and it’s really lovely. I doubt it’s the original intention, but I like to unfold the paper and use both sides of it, because I always have a lot to say. These are used only for family members on MaDoc’s side, and of those, only the ones I really like, which accounts for there still being a lot left.

Then there’s the X-LARGE paper, which isn’t actually that large — it’s just normal computer-sized — but in context is the biggest stuff I’ve got. All of this paper is from my mom, who loved using cute themed paper, and I use this stuff mostly for the friends of hers I keep in touch with (which is actually kind of a lot).

Then there’s the letterhead I use for — okay, so like, we know by now that I’m deeply weird, but this is probably just DEEPLY WEIRD, but whatever, you came this far. So I found a metric shitton of 6 3/4 envelopes in amongst my parents’ office supplies — I have literally zero idea why they had about 5 100-count boxes of these envelopes but I’m one of those people who can never, ever throw shit out, so! I gathered together all the letterhead that they’d also collected over the years from the various universities and hospitals they worked at, cut said letterhead down so that it a) didn’t have University of Tacoma or whatever still on it and b) perfectly fit a 6 3/4 envelope if folded three times. The resulting shape is a little... odd, I’ll admit, but it pleases me greatly and that’s the important thing. In fact this has been my go-to correspondence choice for a couple of months now.

(Also pictured: the cover for this hinky-ass box I made out of a Beekman 1802 box from when we went to their store for their Rose Apothecary popup shop. Zero regrets. Not pictured: the really cute pad of paper I also use for these envelopes that’s a more normal size and shape because where’s the fun in showing you normal stuff?)

And finally, my pride and joy, my Crane Stationery, some of which I have had since I was in high school and my mom bought me a box of it for my birthday (I told you, running theme). It comes in small, medium, and big; yes, I absolutely have rules as to who gets what size of these, too. The medium box kind of fell apart a few years ago so I cobbled a new one together; Crane stationery is notable for not being as exciting as that cover might imply. I’m also kind of pleased that I still have the airmail stationery that I got in college that apparently isn’t sold anymore, which I find baffling because what the fuck is the point of international correspondence if you don’t have to use special stationery? Anyway:

(In re: the lined sheets — I actually have them for every size, because I loathe lined paper but also loathe writing crooked, hence these guides that I put under each sheet as I write. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

So that’s the complete guided tour! If you aspire to have a collection as viscerally unnerving as mine, feel free to send any questions my way. You’re welcome/I’m sorry.

#'you're welcome/I'm sorry' is ALSO a running theme #anyway a whole three people on twitter wanted this so tadaaaa #stationery station

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lewdladylily · 3 years

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You've mentioned this kink club you frequent a few times, what's the place like generally? Like what kinda stuff do they have going on in a place like that?

There are about 4 within reasonable driving distance of where I live (salt lake city, Utah) but I have only gone to two of them due to time and distance constraints. Though you do get kink nights at a couple local dance clubs, I know Area 51 (local dance club) does them here and there, and they are generally kink friendly any time. The local drag queens really like Area 51.

Anyway, the kink clubs are community run and non commercial. The two I am familiar with are actually built in a residential area - from the outside it just looks like someone’s house, you would never know unless you knew. Someone owns the place and it is technically their home, but I don’t know who. They don’t like to let people know who they are and we all respect their privacy. My understanding is not even the neighbors know. As a side note, the cops all know where these clubs are, it isn’t a problem.

My personal favorite was founded around 60 years ago by the gay leather community but it’s always been open to the larger kink community, we all want somewhere to meet and do our thing so we support each other. Also there is a lot of cross over between different groups.

The one I go to most often has a large living room area that has been converted into a dance floor, which acts as the main play area, area for meetings and classes, and occasionally as an actual dance floor when events call for it. There is a sound system, dance club style lighting, padded benches along the walls, and lots of bondage furniture (also scattered around the rest of the clubhouse). There are several other rooms, 3 additional smaller play rooms, a rest area, a kitchen area (Free water bottles all the time, snacks most nights, as well as a soda machine).

Outside of the main clubhouse they built a small bar, maybe 15 feet by 30. You can smoke there, some nights they serve drinks, tables, stools, etc. You get it. It is a good hangout place, cozy and comfortable feel. I’ve spent a lot of hours there just chatting with people.

They have a consensual non consent area set up in the back half of the bar. The idea is that there is a hazard line on the floor that indicates a “danger” area, as well as a stop light they got somewhere. If it is green, all normal rules apply. If it is red then past the line cnc rules are in place - if you are past the line then it is an invitation for someone to come and do what they want with you without asking permission first (unless you safe word, safe words are always in effect). Generally people are not confident enough to do anything though, unless they already know you. I’ve never had the nerve to try it myself on either side. There is this one lady that is a really good belly dancer that likes to go hang out and dance in the CNC area. I’ve never been around for anyone doing more than groping her, but I understand sometimes people will tie her up, maybe use a vibrator on her.

There are also two chairs with built in restraints set up in the CNC area if that is your thing.

There is also a pretty good size patio area. Generally we just sit and chat on warm evenings out there. It is technically open for scenes, and that does happen sometimes. I once saw a girl and her dominant doing a water torture scene, basically she was tied up arms behind her back, on her knees in front of a plastic tub filled with water. Her dominant shoved her head under the water, holding her in place while she tried to resist and break free. Pulled up and allowed to breathe before she was unexpectedly pushed back under. Very hot to watch.

For the more general things we get up to there, generally things are set up as events that you can attend. The entry fee was $15 last time I checked, just to cover minimal expenses. You can also donate to improve the clubhouse. It gets a good amount of donations, everyone wants a good place to hang out, but no one is getting any real amount of money out of it. All the donations go into things like buying furniture or cleaning supplies. All events are invitation only, basically any member of the clubhouse can sponsor someone for their first event, after that they have a standing invitation to any open event.

The events themselves vary greatly. The most popular events are the general play parties, where people just show up, hang out, meet people, and sometimes do some play. It is not uncommon at all for people to come without any intention of sexual play at all, it is a very comfortable, queer friendly environment. We’re all weirdos here, no one is going to judge you for whatever you do.

Generally speaking at any given time someone will be doing something though. All scenes and play being done in the clubhouse is open for anyone to watch. So if some hot girl is being tied up, or two attractive people are having sex, or if there is just a really sexy woman half naked across the room, you are free to watch the show and it is not considered impolite to stare.

At any given party you are going to see a wide variety of people. Lots of people in street clothes hanging out, chatting, and watching whatever is going on. You’ll see several people in anything they find sexy such as lingerie, corsets, formal wear, or even just straight up naked. I have seen two submissive friends come handcuffed together and only in panties. One of my friends likes to wear maid outfits with cat ears and a tail. All that good stuff. You’ll see people on leashes or other obvious signs of dominant/submissive dynamics too.

The events are 18+, and I’ve seen people in their 70s there. Most people are 25+. You’ll also find a wide variety of body types, including fat or otherwise not traditionally attractive people, trans people, you name it. That isn’t a real barrier to joining in on the fun or finding partners.

For an example of a more exclusive event, there is a gender queer play group that used to meet regularly, I am not sure if they still do. Open for trans people and cross dressers plus established allies. Strictly invitation only because this can be an extremely frightening thing for people.

I was a regular of the gender queer group, it was an easy place for me to start as a trans women. I felt more comfortable there than at a general play party until I got my bearings in the community, and I was friends with all the cross dressers by that point. Generally the idea was we would get together to hang out and chat, give all the cross dressers a night to dress up, some of the more experienced CDs would put on a workshop for how to do makeup. That sort of thing. These were more casual parties without much heavy play. You wont find people fucking in the basement, but you might see a light spanking scene.

They also do a weekly class on some kink subject. Someone in the community puts together a presentation on something they like in kink - for example, pony play, or dollification, or leather working - and you can come learn about it. I went to a leather class once where the presenter showed off these black leather angel wings she made, they were stunning.

These classes are strictly no play, with the exception of any demonstrations the presenter does, and the donation drive, in which a female volunteer brings around a donation box (it is actually a wooden duck, a lighthearted tradition that I don’t know the origin of) while stripped down to her panties in order to “encourage” donations. It’s a tongue in cheek tradition, we are all perverts so we might as well have some perverted fun and let an exhibitionist whore herself around a bit. No one is expected to donate, but it is encouraged.

The thing that might not get across easily is that this is a very comfortable atmosphere and basically one of the safest places you could go. Everything is built around safety and consent, and everyone is looking out for everyone else. I’ve done intense bdsm scenes before that left me so fucked up that I couldn’t even walk on my own. People helped me to the couch so I could rest, got me a blanket, and then got me a sealed water bottle so I could rehydrate and checked in on me regularly until I was able to properly take care of myself. I felt completely safe the entire time. I’ve watched over people like this myself before. It is just what you do.

If I had to pick a personal favorite thing, it would have to be the cages.

The clubhouse has a large standup cage, usually one occupant, but you can fairly comfortably fit two. Often someone gets locked in there and basically put on display. One time a cute girl was locked in the standing cage, her arms bound to the top of the cage, with it sitting in the middle of the room. People were encouraged to reach in and grope and touch her as they passed. I’ve locked people in there before, including heavy bondage to the bars of the cage while I groped and teased them with a vibrator. That was a ton of fun.

There is also a horizontal, long cage big enough for one person, or if you are willing to get very close and personal two people. It is comfortable enough for long periods of time. You often see a submissive or two locked in that cage, sometimes left there while their dominant goes off and plays with someone else. I met one of my good friends while she was locked in that cage. It has a padded top so it doubles as a bench for an added level of humiliation.

#IRL play #Anonymous

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dreamsofwhatlifemighthavebeen · 4 years

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Fun times dealing with the equestrian center’s radio net. For the director of the equestrian center - who is here on a work visa, doesn’t have a car, and uses one from the equestrian center to take home - they just a few days ago retired a 1985 Chevrolet Chevette she had been using previously, and replaced it with a 2015 Chevrolet Sonic transferred over from one of my employer’s other companies. The Chevette did not have a radio installed in it, but they decided that the Sonic does need one. I don’t know if you’ve ever looked at the interior of a Sonic, but there really isn’t space for any sort of add ons in the interior. It could be installed on the center console on the passenger side and leave room to open the glove compartment, but I really don’t like the idea of having her look way down and to the right to see the radio if she has to switch channels and such, especially as she’s not a particularly fantastic driver to begin with. Even though we sell radios to the equestrian center at a much lower cost than we would for commercial customers, the owner of the equestrian center rejected that idea on cost, as she already knows she can buy TK-860 or TK-880 radios from us for substantially less. So, it looks like it’s going to be a Kenwood TK-880 (mobile radio to the left) mounted on the dash. Which, I don’t like doing dash mounts because I think it looks sloppy and I like my work to be professional, but it’s ultimately her call.

Honestly, I never saw any need to install a radio in her car... even the company which used it previously never saw a need to. So the owner says, “Well, she might drive it to events”. But never has she (the director) ever shown any interest in driving herself to those... if they’re taking the bus, she much prefers that, as she pretty much has a work center there which was made by taking some seats out of the bus and installing a small desk. Otherwise, she’d ride with someone else, even when given the opportunity to take a newer vehicle, and even when offered someone to act as her personal driver. She’s not into driving, and she’s not going to be now. But I lost that argument.

The equestrian center uses an organizational GMRS license which they had originally obtained in 1984 and have maintained since; thus, it was grandfathered in when the FCC stopped issuing organizational licenses in 1987. Originally, they had used the Motorola MR-355R (bottom left) and MR-356R blister pack radios. Problem is, they were buying these things at whatever big box retailers everyone else was buying them at, so we ended up with hordes of unlicensed users getting on the equestrian center repeater (there’s also a sorry saga of how GMRS users were screwed out of exclusivity on Channels 15 - 22 on account of squatters who bought the 22 channel “hybrid” radios en masse and completely ignored the blurb on the packaging which stated use of those channels required a GMRS license).

When I was given charge of the equestrian center’s radio net, I changed a lot of things. First, I limited who accessed the repeater. Crew and barn leads, admin staff, etc. Everyone working under the leads could use simplex, as they were never a far enough distance from each other to require a repeater. So, we were initially going to use BaoFeng BF-888S radios for the crew members who weren’t accessing the repeater, but we had difficulty finding a seller who could guarantee the radios they sold us had the FCC ID on them (a legal requirement in the US for operating transmitting on any service outside of Part 97 rules). We found one who could guarantee it if we bought the BaoFeng GT-1 (second from the left on the bottom row), which is internally the same as the BF-888S, but uses a different battery and case. For the crew leads, barn leads, admin staff, and those who were going to access the repeater, we went with the B-Tech (BaoFeng) UV-82C (not pictured), which is a commercial Part 90 type accepted variant of the UV-82 series radios. The dual watch feature also allows them to monitor both the repeater and their internal crew simplex net simultaneously without having to go into scan mode.

As the blister pack radios used a standardized list of CTCSS and DCS tones, I changed the repeater to split tones, with separate DCS tones for the transmit and receive side, and also used a mixture of non-standard and inverted DCS tones throughout the entire equestrian center net. So while someone running a police scanner or radio on carrier squelch can still hear our traffic, they won’t be able to talk to us or interrupt us with the blister pack radios, Midland radios, etc., as we had problems both with people intentionally getting on our repeater and also those running simplex who “coincidentally” used the same frequencies and DPL tones which we did. Once the FCC co-banded all of the FRS simplex and GMRS frequencies in 2017, we were left powerless to do anything about it (not that we really could before... the FCC was always pretty lax on their enforcement when it came to GMRS). If we run into a matter of getting disrupted by someone who successfully finds our DPL tones, then I have the means to require the radio’s PTT-ID to be on an approved list to trip the repeater.

For the riding instructors, we felt that perhaps something more durable was in order after one of the GT-1s broke. Initially, I took of the Motorola HT750s (second from the right on the bottom row) from the rental side of our business and loaned them to the equestrian center until we could figure out something more permanent. The permanent solution came when I happened across some Kenwood TK-350s (center of the bottom row) which were sitting in a bin and pretty much unwanted. So, after finding batteries for them, I was allowed to take those and donate them to the equestrian center. I actually had to lean how to use DOS in order to program them. Surprisingly, only one ended up preferring the HT750 over the Kenwoods. In the end - since she rents a room from and lives with me - I purchased one at cost from the business and donated it so that she could continue using one.

All the way to the right on the bottom row is one of my Kenwood TK-3180s, which I use both for the equestrian center’s GMRS net as well as the LMR radio net at my regular job. I was using one with the 16 key DTMF keypad (and the Tactical Features Set), but the owner of the equestrian center wants all radios labeled... while crew radios will tyically have only a number, the equestrian instructors wanted their names to be displayed on the radios they were issued, and I was instructed to do the same with mine. The running joke with it is, when we’re doing fundraising events (the equestrian program is a registered nonprofit), tours of the equestrian center, or other events, then husbands can try claiming they were only looking at the nametags on the radio to try remembering our names when their wives catch them staring at our asses. Since the DTMF keypad didn’t leave space for a label, I took one with the four button keypad and used that.

GMRS is regulated under Part 95E and requires a Part 95E radio. However, due to a lack of viable Part 95E radio options, many users have taken to using Part 90 LMR radios, as many of the UHF models cover GMRS frequencies. For example, the Motorola HT750 can be programmed with frequencies from 403 -470 MHz, and GMRS (as well as FRS) is a collection of 22 frequencies in the 462 and 467 MHz range. The use of Part 90 radios in GMRS plays fast and loose with the law, but acts in the spirit of the law, even if not the letter of it. The FCC has acknowledged the practice and has been leaving it alone, but they haven’t actually given approval to do that. To that end, we ensure that all radios are Part 90 (or Part 95E, as some employees have bought their own radios).

Which of course brings us to other problems in dealing with the radio net. A number of licensed GMRS users are quite upset about our use of a repeater on GMRS, especially given a lack of viable ones in the area. Some have identified the tower and have threatened to report us to the FCC (to which we tell them to go right ahead, as our use of that frequency is 100% on the up and up), some have tried to get us to make it a public use repeater (and typically suggest we use travel tone).

Then, of course, a number of the male employees - not content with the little GT-1 radios - always want something more “badass”. So I had one come up to me asking me if I could program his radio to the equestrian center net, and he hands me a BaoFeng UV-5R and told me the equestrian center owner gave her approval. Problem is, the FCC ID on that one - 2AJGM-UV5R - only shows Part 15 certification for 134 - 174 MHz and 400 - 470 MHz. So, outside of Part 97 (ham radio) use, it’s only legal as a receiver and scanner in those band splits. The ones which don’t have an FCC ID aren’t even legal for that. Had another one come to me with what looked like a Kenwood TK-3207... great 16 channel UHF radio, and the TK-2000/3000 series are becoming one of the mainstays of our rental service. When I removed the battery, it showed the model as TK-3000, but there was no FCC ID on it, so I asked him where he’d gotten it from. He said his brother used it for his business and had some extras. Just out of curiosity, I tried programming it with the KPG-137D programming software and was unable to. So I asked the brother where he’d gotten it from. He said he bought it off of Ebay. When I searched Ebay, I found a bunch of TK-2000/TK-3000 series radios from a seller out of China. So I installed KPG-137D on another computer and this time used the serial number for the UK/European version, and it successfully programmed the radio. All fine and dandy, but I gave it back to him and told him it’s not a legal radio for use in the US without an FCC ID being present.

I swear, I wear too many hats sometimes.

#two way communications #two way radios #walkie talkie #gmrs #gmrs radio

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yukipri · 5 years

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Ways to help KyoAni

Just because I haven’t seen nearly as much on Tumblr as I have on Twitter, here’s a lil post. Likely repeats the same info as many other posts.

This is a long post. To skip on your dash, hit the “J” key.

But today (started during the day July 18, 2019 Japan time), the Kyoto Animation studio was the victim of arson. This isn’t just a tremendously heart-breaking situation for the anime community; it’s also the largest domestic terrorism incident in post-war Japanese history. 33 people died.

UPDATE: 34 people have passed away.

There’s plenty of more detailed articles and it’s a story still being covered, but here’s one short article on NHK world.

Another article on the Guardian.

As of making this post, this was still all very recent, and there will likely be more updates in the future.

>> UPDATE: KyoAni has announced that survivors from the fire returned to work on July 24, 2019. 34 people total passed away (source).

>>>>> Ways to Help

Fans around the world want to help, and as of making this post, there have been several suggestions going around. PLEASE NOTE, that until KyoAni makes a statement themselves, none of these are confirmed to be the best ways to send them support, especially financially, and you should take this into consideration.

1. Donate to the GoFundMe

Organized by Sentai Filmworks, an American licensing company that has worked with KyoAni. They’ve already collected considerable donations.

Things to be aware of:

＊＊＊　UPDATE REGARDING THE GO FUND ME: KyoAni’s lawyer is in contact with Sentai Filmworks, and has confirmed that they will be working together to make sure the funds go to the right places. THIS IS NOW A CONFIRMED SAFE PLACE TO DONATE (source).

>> If you’d like to donate to the GoFundMe, LINK HERE <<

2. Buy digital merchandise from the KyoAni online store

KyoAni has an online store that sells digital images for 216 yen (approx $2 USD) each. Because the files are digital and the download is automated, it shouldn’t burden employees directly, and the money should go directly to the company.

The website is in Japanese, but here are some handy tutorials made by English-speaking twitter users that walk you through it:

By twitter user mimiko_kupo

By twitter user zetsubouzhainu

＊ While this currently seems like a really good way to financially support the company directly without going through third parties (and hey you get pretty high res anime images too), there hasn’t been an official PR stating that this will guarantee your money will go to those affected.

＊ Update: A heads up that only original creations completely owned by KyoAni will have all the profits go to them. Other works that are collaborations or based off of pre-existing works will likely split profits. Recommended works are Free!, Violet Evergarden, and Tsurune (credit).

>> If you’d like to purchase digital files, LINK HERE <<

3. Share Your Message of Support With Kyoto Animation through Crunchyroll

Especially great for those who don’t have money to send or want to wait before supporting financially, Crunchyroll recently opened up a form for fans to send messages of support. You can even send in fanart/photos etc.

Because it’s Crunchyroll, I feel it’s highly likely that they WILL send these to KyoAni when they’re in a situation where they can accept them, and there’s no risk to doing this since money isn’t involved. In situations like these, thoughts really do count.

>> Link to the form HERE <<

UPDATE: 4. Donate at Animate (within Japan only)

Animate, a major anime merch chain company in Japan, just announced that donation boxes to support KyoAni will be placed in stores nationwide starting July 19th, 2019 (currently no end date).

If you happen to be in Japan, adding a donation while shopping for your anime merch might be an option! This should be an incredibly reliable place to donate to.

＊ I’m aware Animate has several international stores as well, but currently there’s no information whether donation boxes will be available there or not. They do not appear to currently be taking donations online.

Source

UPDATE: 5. Kyoto Animation Officially Starts Accepting Direct Donations

Kyoto Animation has formally opened a bank account for supporters to send their donations directly. Donations are accepted through bank transfer. Their bank information:

BANK NAME : THE KYOTO SHINKIN BANK SWIFT : KYSBJPJZ BRANCH NAME : MINAMI MOMOYAMA BRANCH BRANCH NUMBER : 048 ADDRESS : 16-50, YOSAI, MOMOYAMA-CHO, HUSHIMI-KU, KYOTO-SHI, KYOTO-HU, 612-8016 , JAPAN ACCOUNT NUMBER : 0002890 ACCOUNT HOLDER : KYOTO ANIMATION CO.,LTD., REPRESENTATIVE DIRECTOR, HATTA HIDEAKI

＊ Please read the Crunchyroll article for full details

＊ Also PLEASE NOTE, while this is the most direct way to send KyoAni your support, if you have an international (non-Japanese) bank, you will be charged a significant transfer fee. It’s generally not recommended to send small amounts of money via direct bank transfer, as the charge will likely cost more than your donation (in which case, one of the above methods may be better, or alternatively, you can pool with friends to make one transfer, OR send the money to a friend with a Japanese bank, etc).

＊ Here’s an excellent twitter thread walking you through the process by twitter user @ crazynabe.

UPDATE: 6. Official KyoAni Yahoo! Net Fund + Other officially confirmed Japanese donation methods

From Crunchyroll’s article:

"Yahoo! Japan and JAniCA (Japanese Animation Creators Association) have worked together to set up a "Kyoto Animation Support Fund" through the Yahoo! Net Fund website. The page states that the money raised will be directly deposited into the account Kyoto Animation set up on July 24 and the money will be used for the victims' families and reconstruction efforts for the studio.

Yahoo! Net Fund accepts donations from overseas credit cards as well as T-Point cards, used in Japan to collect points on purchases at multiple locations throughout the country, including Yahoo! Auctions, Family Mart and entertainment chain Tsutaya. As of 6:30PM JST (Japan Standard Time), 648 people have donated through the website raising 684,745 yen ($6,300 USD). The website started collecting donations at 6:00PM JST.” (source)

>>> LINK HERE

Other currently officially endorsed donation methods, including Animate mentioned in method 4:

アニメイト「京都アニメーション様支援募金」 https://www.animate.co.jp/info/279024

Tポイント・ジャパン「【緊急募金】京都アニメーションへの義援金」 https://tsite.jp/donation/index.pl?xpg=PCTC0202&bokin_id=527

日本アニメーター・演出協会「Yahoo!ネット募金京都アニメーション応援募金」 https://donation.yahoo.co.jp/detail/5234001

日本動画協会 https://aja.gr.jp/info/1436

(SOURCE: KyoAni’s official website)

＊ Will be updated as more information is added.

Other ways to support KyoAni is by watching their content through official means, and purchasing their merch and media. I highly recommend this, and a spike in viewership of their works can send its own message of support.

HOWEVER, please be aware that media licensed to view internationally often has even more split interests than within domestic Japan, and your viewership may not lead to too much direct financial support (although it’s better than not, and no harm in doing so). Also be careful/understanding of delays when purchasing anything physical directly from KyoAni, as their staff currently likely have other priorities.

And PLEASE, be respectful and keep KyoAni’s staff and their families in your thoughts first and foremost. There will likely be delays or possibly even cancellations to their anime, but please be understanding, and keep supporting them. Content can be made again at a later time. People have just lost their lives, and those living have experienced something unimaginable. They should be our priority.

Post made evening July 18, 2019, EST.

Post updated morning July 26, 2019, EST.

#Kyoto Animation #KyoAni #longpost #anime #PrayForKyoAni #tw: death #I am not an expert on this situation please don't spam me with Qs. I just wanted to collect the info I had #Yes I did personally donate to the GoFundMe

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twiistedgalaxies · 3 years

Text

Genesis: Chapter 8: Holly Jolly Christmas

How two brothers can take two opposite paths. How a man can be made into a monster and how the other must pay the ultimate price to save everything he knows and loves.

Or, alternatively:

The origins of All for One and One for All.

Previous Chapter

First Chapter

Tomura woke to the excited chatter of his peers. He sat up in his bed with a groggy groan, squinting against the morning light. One of the meta-human kids he’d befriended, Emrik, was gesturing emphatically with his gleaming, metallic hands.

“Buuh?” Tomura said intelligently, not awake enough to process what he was saying. A large hand ruffled his long hair.

“It’s Christmas, goober,” he heard his brother say, smile in the teen’s voice.

At this, Tomura felt a jolt of excitement rush through him. He bounded out of bed, only to regret it a few seconds later when his joints screamed in protest. Luckily, Hisashi reached out to steady him before he could fall backwards onto the unforgiving steel-framed bed.

“We’re all out in the mess hall having breakfast!” Emrik chattered, “If you hurry up, you might be able to get some sausage rolls from the cook before they’re all gone.” The boy grabbed his arm and began dragging him out to eat, despite Tomura’s squawks of protest. Hisashi just looked on at the situation with amusement. Traitor.

The mess hall was crowded and loud as everyone gossiped about the gaudy Christmas tree that loomed over them at the end of the room. Tomura found himself cringing at the volume, feeling a headache building behind his eyes. His other friends, Jonah and Finn, waved them over after they got their food. Soon, he was wedged between Emrik and another clique on the bench across from the duo. The two were as thick as thieves, and often he and Emrik felt like they were just an accessory to their dynamic.

“So, what do you think you got for Christmas, ‘mura?” Finn asked, features brightening to a light green.

Tomura shrugged, “I’m not sure, honestly I’ll be amazed if I get anything. It’s not like we have money to spend.” Really, he was shocked he could pull together enough for Hisashi’s present.

Emrik bumped his shoulder into Tomura’s own, “Yeah, but with all the toy donations we got this year, at the very least you’ll have something, even if it’s dumb.”

Jonah’s eyes took on a mischievous glint, “One year, Finn got a hot pink doll house.”

Said preteen turned red and black with indignation, “I thought we agreed not to talk about that!”

“I made no such promise,” Emrik chirped. Finn slumped in his chair with exasperation, turning a light blue.

“There, there,” Jonah said while patting his back with a scaly hand. Finn let out a groan. Tomura smiled at his friends’ theatrics, at the very least it would be nice to have the day off of school and chores to hang out with them.

“What about you guys?” Tomura asked, digging into his eggs and sausage rolls.

“I’m hoping for some lotion,” Jonah replied, mouth full of food, “my scales are getting dry from the cold, it’s really itchy!”

Finn cuffed Jonah on the back of the head, causing the reptilian to shoot him a puzzled look, “Joan pleeease don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s gross.”

Jonah just smirked and chewed with his mouth open in an exaggerated manner. Finn leaned away from him, making disgusted noises. Meanwhile, Emrik and Tomura found themselves laughing at their antics.

“I want a muzzle to make Jonah chew with his mouth shut,” Emrik quipped, dodging a stray piece of scrambled egg launched at his head.

Suddenly, Tomura felt something cold and wet be poured over his head, drenching his clothes in something thin and sticky. Baffled by the sudden rush of freezing cold, he glanced around for the culprit, only to be met with the shark-like eyes of the orphanage bully, and contender for butthead of the year award, Bruce. He flushed bright red at the kids around him (minus his friends) bursting out into laughter at his expense. Tomura had never considered himself to be the type to actively hate other people, but man, if Bruce wasn’t the sole exception to that rule. The thirteen year old, held back a few years to be in their class, was a pudgy, mean-looking - ugh! Tomura had many, many, not nice words to describe him. It was Bruce and his cronies that were disrupting his now friends’ marble game a little over a week ago. In his left hand, Bruce held a now empty pitcher that seemed to have once held orange juice.

Tomura was about ready to deliver a scathing insult (or lunge himself at Bruce, whichever came first), when the matron’s familiar, shrill voice filled the air, “Settle down, settle down children.” Abra waited a moment for them to do so, fiddling with the megaphone in her hands, “As I am sure you are all aware, it is Christmas. You have the day off, yes, but any horseplay or mischief will not be tolerated,” she sent a pointed look towards a bunch of teenagers squeezed together at one of the tables, “Those of you who have chores are still obligated to do them today.” At this, a bunch of people groaned with protest. The matron looked displeased at their response, “That being said, for those of you who have finished eating, feel free to retrieve your presents from under the tree, and do so in an orderly fashion.”

They did not get their presents in an orderly fashion. A tidal wave of children flooded to the end of the room, finally breaking apart into cliques once presents got distributed. Tomura was thankfully able to pick out Hisashi’s familiar mop of white hair from the crowd.

“Hisashi!” he called, and his brother walked towards him, several presents in hand.

“Merry Christmas,” the teen said, and handed him two presents, one from donations and the other from Hisashi.

“Thanks,” Tomura replied, eyes darting around as he looked for an exit, he didn’t want to have their gift exchange somewhere so crowded.

“Why is your hair orange?” Hisashi raised an eyebrow, “And why are you soaking wet?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tomura said, shrugging the questions off, “Let’s just head back into the dorms, okay? I need to change out of this.”

His brother nodded and gestured to him to lead the way.

It seemed that some other people had the same idea they did, because there were a few cliques clustered in the common room and the dorms. Once they got to his bed (where his stuff was), Tomura hastily changed out of his ruined clothes into something warm and dry. Finally, the pair ended up sitting on opposite sides of the stiff bed, presents between them.

“Well?” Hisashi began, “What are you waiting for? Open your gift.”

Tomura carefully ripped open the bright red wrapping paper, labelled as being from Hisashi.

“One of my friends owed me a favor, and he works at a comic book store, so we got you this,” His brother said, a fond look warming his face.

The wrapping paper was torn to reveal a manga, on the cover the title read ‘Ultraman vs. the Demon King, Volume 1’ Tomura looked up, question unspoken.

Hisashi shrugged, “It’s some sort of shonen, apparently it’s really popular in Japan right now, I thought you’d like it.”

Tomura threw his arms around his older brother, touched by the gift. “Thank you,” he breathed.

Hisashi chuckled, “Yeah it’s no problem, squirt, now open your other one. I want to see what the orphanage randomly gave you.”

He released his brother from his death grip and tore open the other present. Tomura grimaced upon seeing what it was. His older brother doubled over laughing.

“It’s not that funny,” Tomura grumbled, feeling his ears heat up.

“You’re right,” Hisashi shot back, “It’s hysterical.”

The randomly assigned present was a princess costume meant for toddlers. Tomura found himself looking up at the ceiling, silently railing against whatever deity was up there. “Maybe one of the younger kids will find it useful,” he sighed, placing the accursed gift to the side for now, “It’s your turn, ‘sashi, I worked really hard to get you your present.” He truly had, running errands for the matron to get spare cash wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.

Tomura watched his older brother open his gift with a baited breath. Whether or not he’d like it was hit or miss, it came from an old antique shop, and Tomura had barely enough cash to buy it. Hisashi’s face lit up once he removed the wrapping paper and opened the velvet box within. It was a watch, already calibrated to the current time. “Wow, I..” his brother began, only to cut himself off with a frown, “Where did you get this?”

“I did some tasks for the matron and she gave me some money, combined with some of my savings from before, I was able to go to an old antique shop. I thought you’d like it,” Tomura replied, feeling a familiar buzz of anxiety in his stomach. Had he made the wrong choice?

As if sensing his thoughts, his brother placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “I do like it, thank you.”

“Of course,” Tomura laughed awkwardly, “Though this is your birthday present too, I know it’s coming up soon and I don’t know if I’ll be able to get you anything.”

Hisashi grabbed the other present, the one from the orphanage, “It’s fine, I didn’t even expect a Christmas gift this year to be honest, it’s not like such things come by easily these days.” He opened the gift, and Tomura watched his face fall into something between deadpan and profound irritation.

“What is it?” Tomura asked, leaning over to get a glance. He immediately burst out into laughter, much like his brother had earlier. In Hisashi’s hands was a spiral notebook covered in glitter. On its front was a kitten dangling from a tree branch with a caption that read ‘Hang in there!’.

“As tempting as it is to set this on fire,” Hisashi placed the book next to his watch, “Maybe it’ll be useful later.”

Once Tomura recovered from his laughing fit, he said, wiping a tear from his eye, “Merry Christmas.”

Hisashi smiled, something he seemed to be doing a lot of today, “Merry Christmas.”

-@~*^*~@-

The bus ride up to Beverly Hills was quiet, and given that it was the dead of night, Hisashi wasn’t surprised. The meta-humans were generous in the equipment they gave him. He was clad in black bloc, an earpiece was nestled snugly in his left ear. Inside of his hoodie was a handgun with a silencer attachment, and in his jeans was his ever faithful switchblade alongside a nice set of lockpicks. For once, he wore gloves. A dingy, failing Gamestop was one thing, a high profile target was another. He checked the watch on his wrist, 1pm, Markov and his family should be asleep by now.

The bus screeched to a halt before a dimly lit bus-stop. This would be as close as he could get to the Hills, the rest of the journey would need to be on foot. He disembarked and secured his face mask before making his way down the few blocks between himself and the target’s neighborhood. Christmas at the orphanage had been… interesting to say the least. He spent most of it playing a new board game Rafi had gotten for Christmas. Sorry! It was called, but Hisashi felt no remorse when his opponents faced crushing defeat. He hadn’t been in the hallway when Jose, rather stupidly, used the basketball he had gotten. While doing so, Jose had slammed it at top speed into one of the fluorescent lights, shattering it and nearly taking off the entire ceiling panel in the process. In all honesty, Hisashi was a little impressed, the thrashing Matron Abra gave him must have been legendary.

The gate to the miles-long driveway towards Markov’s mansion was tacky to put it kindly. It was bleach tinted iron and gold-leafed, prominently featuring the pharmaceutical company’s symbol entwined in vines. Hisashi sneered at the sight before devising a way to break in. This would be easier than expected, as Markov had so kindly made the brick wall attached to the gate only shoulder height. Granted, Hisashi was significantly taller than most people, but regardless, all it would take was a few simple footholds to scale the thing. He walked a ways from the front gate (no need to alert any cameras after all) and climbed over it without much fuss. Finger on his earpiece to activate its microphone, he spoke, “I’m in the front yard.”

“Cool,” he heard Amy reply, she sounded bored, “I disabled their security system. Do you need me to go over the floor plan again like a dumbass or are ya good?”

Hisashi scowled, even though she couldn’t see it. Of course he didn’t need a refresher, he practically had the map burned into his eyelids with how much he’d stared at the thing. “I’m fine,” he said, short and to the point.

Amy hummed, “The target and his wife are in the master room, out cold last I checked. Their little imps are also in their rooms. If you don’t make a ton of noise like a one-man circus you should be able to pull this off. If anything comes up on the security cameras I’ll let ya know.”

“Alright,” Hisashi said, and removed his finger from the earpiece, shutting off the microphone.

He crept across their lawn (which was so long it was ridiculous) and paced around the mansion’s perimeter until he saw what must have been the cellar window. It was a small, narrow thing and he found himself mentally cursing both Michael for recommending this route and his past self for not planning for contingencies. He stood there for a moment, trying to think. Above the cellar was the kitchen, he could probably pop open a window and crawl through that way. From the corner of his eye, he spotted a set of sliding glass doors. He had forgotten about the sun room. That would be much better than reliving his many adventures with a narrow window dueling with his lanky stature. Mind made up, he headed towards the sliding door and realized that he lacked anything to pry it open with. Hisashi cursed under his breath, window it is. He nearly jumped out of his skin when vicious growling and barking filled the air.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated under his breath as he backpedaled from the door. Hisashi reached up to his earpiece, “You never said anything about a dog!”

“Eh, I didn’t know they had a mutt,” the brat said, in a tone that made him very much think she had known, “Besides, it’s kenneled, just give it a minute to calm down and you should be able to get in from somewhere else without a problem.”

Hisashi retreated to a group of hedges and waited in its shadows, both for the canine to calm down, and to see if it had woken up the mansion’s occupants. Once everything settled back into peaceful silence (apart from the ringing in his ears), Hisashi snuck towards the kitchen window. All it took was some fenangling with his pocket knife - really, you’d think they’d have better security than this that wasn’t reliant on the internet - and he was able to get it open with a satisfying pop.

He quietly climbed through the window and gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. The kitchen was large, almost industrial grade, clearly meant to hold some sort of staff. If he remembered the floor plan correctly, there was a sitting room up ahead, and then a set of stairs leading to the second floor to the left. Despite there being three floors, Markov and his family had their rooms on the second. It was likely they didn’t want to bother themselves with climbing an extra set of stairs. Hisashi set out on the route, sneering at the extravagant decor in the sitting room. If nothing else, Markov deserved to be erased from this Earth for poor taste. No one in their right mind needs a giant taxidermied tiger. He winced as the stairs creaked underfoot and paused, heart in his throat. He didn’t need their hound having another fit. Nothing seemed to happen, so he continued forward.

Finally, he reached the master bedroom, and opened the door slowly. Markov and his wife were sound asleep in their bed, cocooned in silk sheets and rose petals. Hisashi felt his nose scrunch up in disgust when he realized they were most likely nude. Briefly, he considered searching the room for anything Matt would find interesting, but decided against it. Surely the head of a prestigious pharmaceutical company wouldn’t be so foolish as to hide something incriminating somewhere easy to access. His gaze made its way to their night stand. The man’s smartphone, however, perhaps that could prove to be promising. Hisashi slinked towards the night stand and made sure the phone was off before pocketing it. There was no need for GPS to track him down after all. The handgun was cold and hard when he pulled it out. He flicked off the safety and pressed it to Markov’s temple. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to kill someone for a favor or for cash. But never had it been someone so… prominent. Hisashi would never admit it out loud, but he was nervous, butterflies raised hell in his stomach like they had the first time he’d done something like this. He pulled the trigger. It was now or never.

“What are you waiting for?!” Amy hissed in his ear.

He released the trigger, and the bed’s sheets were painted in crimson. A sigh of relief. Even the most untouchable in society bled and shat and died like mortal men. Just to be certain there were no witnesses, he turned the barrel of his gun on the wife and ensured her death was clean and quick. Or at least, as much as it could be. (His mother sitting upright in their bed, face frozen in a fearful expression, brain matter covering the headboard like a Rorschach painting-)

Hisashi swallowed and spun on his heel to make his escape. There was no room for remorse, or pity, or reminiscence. All he had was the path forward, and the drive to keep his little brother safe, no matter the price.

A/N: Happy Imbolc/Candlemas to those who celebrate it! May your hearth be warm and blessings bountiful. This chapter ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated. Though, granted, I got distracted with another project and that slowed down my writing a lot. In other news, I'm going to be putting out a three part Witcher!Jaskier fanfiction at some point soon (within the week if all goes well), though it won't have a consistent update schedule like Genesis does. As always, feel free to leave a comment, feedback is my heroin.

AO3

Next Chapter

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dreamcatcherfication · 4 years

Text

Three’s a Crowd

I hope this fic isn’t absolute trash after the short break from writing I took. In the span of three days I completely forgot how to write and it shows.

But anyway, hello everyone! Anon requested Jane getting jealous because of Aragon being maternal towards Kat, and I loved that prompt. I’m not sure I did it justice, but we’re certainly trying. I really hope this fic is in any sense coherent. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I forgot how to write and my english is not good now.

And also - I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THIS BEHAVIOR! A lot of what happens in this fic includes toxic mindsets and sometimes toxic behavior, and I do not support that in any way. I wanted to do my best to represent how toxic mindsets can affect a person, and how hard it can be to get out of them. That’s why Jane might seem a little OOC, but I did my best to balance everything out.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Toxic behavior, toxic mindsets

Jane Seymour didn’t like being busy. Of course she liked to have things to do so she wasn’t wasting time, but being overburdened with work stressed her out far more than she liked. For the past week Jane had been overwhelmed with learning new choreography for the show, and the costume changes, as well as some of her lines being workshopped. It took all of her attention, and Jane started to notice how much less time she was spending with the queens.

There was one particular change in dynamics that Jane was starting to notice. Ever since the queens had grown comfortable with each other, Kat and Jane were almost always by each other’s side. It made sense, with Jane longing for someone to act maternal towards, and Kat lacking any strong maternal figure in her life. The two of them clicked, forming a bond that they both so desperately needed.

But now, Kat was hardly ever around Jane. She wasn’t avoiding Jane, that much was clear, but the teen always seemed busy with someone else. Namely, Catherine of Aragon. It irked Jane to see the two of them so happy together. Internally, she kept telling herself she held no ill will towards Catherine, but she couldn’t help the small seed of rage that festered in her heart every time she saw the two queens together.

Just yesterday, Jane had asked Kat if she wanted to read together. “Sorry Jane, I’m going to the movies with Aragon. She got us these great seats and it’s one of those new, high tech theatres. She’s so cool,” Kat had gushed on.

Jane had to keep repeating that Aragon wasn’t being mean and was perfectly capable and welcome to spend time with Kat. However, in the back of Jane’s mind, she kept thinking Catherine unfit to spend time with Kat. “It’s a toxic mindset,” Jane kept telling herself, trying to push it away.

She started out small, doing little things to regain Kat’s attention. Late at night, Jane had gone to the store to buy a giant box of guylian’s chocolates, Kat’s favorite. The next morning, she left them on the kitchen counter with the note, For Kat, the ten amongst these threes. From Jane.

When Kat walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, Jane held her breath in anticipation. Kat’s eyes drifted over to the chocolates as she frowned in confusion. She made her way over to the box and read the note. Eyes lighting up, Kat turned to Jane with an open mouth. “For me?” she gasped.

Nodding her head, Jane tried to conceal the smile growing on her lips. “Just for you Kat.”

“Oh thank you so much!” Kat hugged Jane tightly to her chest. “Can I have some now?”

Pretending to look around like she was keeping a secret, Jane put a finger to her lips. “Only if you don’t tell the others.”

Kat laughed and waved Jane off. “As if. These are all mine. Thank you Jane, I love you!”

For the first time in a week, Jane’s heart unclenched and she relaxed. Kat still loved her, that was good. That was very good.

The next day, Jane woke up bright and early so that she could be ready to greet Kat when she came down for breakfast. Behold her surprise when Kat was already up and about, fully dressed and wide awake. “Kat, why are you up so early?” Jane asked, still fighting back slight drowsiness. “It’s only 6:30.”

Pulling on a jacket, Kat shrugged. “Aragon’s taking me to this moving carnival that’s set up downtown. She heard about it through Maria and she wanted to take me.”

Like she heard her name, Aragon appeared from the kitchen. She had paper bags filled with food that she was packing into a travel bag. “That’s right, Kat,” she rubbed the girl’s shoulder. “Maria and the other ladies went yesterday and they loved it, so I thought I’d take Kat out for the day.”

“Oh,” Jane’s heart broke a little bit. “That’s nice.”

Aragon flashed her a grin and led Kat to the door. “We’ll be back for dinner Jane, don’t worry.”

Kat waved as they left the room. “Yeah, we’ll tell you all about it!”

The door shut on Jane, her hand half raised in a pitiful goodbye wave. “Bye,” she whispered, her shoulders slouching. She should’ve known it wouldn’t last. Kat wasn’t bound to her, she had her own relationships. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to see her bounding off with Aragon. Was she being replaced? Jane questioned. Had Kat found someone better when Jane wasn’t around and realized she didn’t want her?

Sensibility told Jane it was only insecurity, but she still couldn’t shake it off. If Kat only wanted to spend time with Aragon, how would Jane cope? Would she lose the bond she so desperately tried to build with Kat in the first place?

Setting her face, Jane vowed that she wouldn’t let Aragon destroy her and Kat’s bond. They had something none of the other queens had, and Jane wasn’t about to let that go. The battle was on.

“Hey, Kat,” Jane approached the girl a couple days later.

The teen was on her phone, scrolling through pictures she and Aragon had taken at the carnival. “Hmm?” Kat glanced up, her face brightening when she saw Jane. “Hi Jane.” Before Jane could start talking, Kat cut her off and shoved the phone in her face. “Look at this video I took from the carnival. This guy eats fire and then breaths it out. Isn’t it cool,” she explained.

Watching the video silently, Jane wasn’t paying attention to the guy eating fire. She was listening to the faint dialogue between Kat and Aragon from behind the camera. “How does he do that?” she heard Kat ask.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Aragon replied lightly, “and it’s more fun to watch and be amazed.”

Judging by Kat’s gasp, she had agreed. “It would be so cool to be able to do that.”

The camera shook slightly as Aragon came into frame, her eyes twinkling. “Don’t go hurting yourself trying to swallow fire, Kitty, this guy’s a professional.”

Kat’s pout was practically visible through her voice. “Do you really think I would hurt myself trying to eat fire?”

Shrugging goodnaturedly, Aragon leaned back out of frame. “I think you listen to your cousin too much sometimes. I’m not saying that I don’t trust you, but I am saying it’s not unlike you and Anne to try and eat fire because it looks cool.”

The video ended along with Jane’s good mood. How could Kat be so enraptured by Aragon? She and Jane had those conversations millions of times, why would she be having it with Aragon now? “Forget about that,” Jane tried to cover her annoyance with giddiness, “Because I’ve got something better planned.”

Raising her eyebrow in interest, Kat leaned forward. “What could be better than someone eating fire?”

“I dunno…” Jane teased Kat, “maybe the private animal shelter will suffice?”

Practically jumping to her feet, Kat dropped her phone, completely forgetting about the video. “No way! But you have to make appointments with them, Anna and I have been trying for months, how -”

Jane cut her off. “I pulled a couple strings, don’t worry about it. I know how much you wanted to see them, so it’s all worth it.”

“When do we get to go?” Kat prodded, bouncing on her feet.

Jane’s heart sped up when she saw the pure happiness in Kat’s eyes. “As soon as you’re ready.”

The animal shelter itself was huge, although there weren’t many people throughout. It was a private shelter and the owners required a considerable ‘donation’ for patrons to be allowed to come play with the animals even if they weren’t interested in buying. It was a lot of money Jane was required to pay, but she would do it a thousand times over in order to keep Kat happy.

Kat was fawning over the dogs as Jane stood behind her. There was a small, fluffy white dog that kept jumping into Kat’s lap and attacking her with its tongue. A bunch of other dogs swarmed her feet, causing Kat to giggle. Restraining herself from sneezing, Jane couldn’t help the swell of accomplishment in her chest. Kat loved it, and that’s what mattered.

The fur that was gathering around Jane irritated her skin, turning it red, but she ignored her discomfort. Jane didn’t care about her allergy to dogs and to fur, and she would continue to hide it from Kat. The teen was so happy with Jane, she wouldn’t ruin it. “Jane,” Kat called her attention. “Isn’t she so cute,” Kat held up the white dog to Jane, prompting her to pet it. Carefully stroking the dog’s fur, Jane prayed that a sneezing fit wouldn’t overcome her.

“She’s lovely, dear,” Jane agreed, stepping away from the dog as soon as Kat was satisfied.

Setting the dog down, Kat pulled Jane into a hug. Melting into the teen’s embrace, Jane couldn’t help a sigh of relief. This was all she wanted. “Thank you Jane,” Kat murmured. “I love you.”

That’s all Jane needed to hear, once again. The only thing she wanted out of any of this. So Jane contented herself to watch as Kat sat back on the ground and returned her attention to the dogs.

By now, Jane was sure she had won. How could Aragon compete when Jane had taken Kat to an exclusive animal shelter to play with the dogs she loved so much? At this rate, all of Jane’s worries would be for naught and Kat would always love her. All of this would fade into a little bubble in the past and things would be back how they should be.

That was until Jane heard talking coming from Kat’s room. Immediately standing up, Jane went to investigate. Chances were it was only Anne talking with her cousin, but Jane still had to know if there was something she was missing. Opening Kat’s door, Jane carefully peeked in to see what was going on.

In the center of the room stood Aragon, a small crate of stuffed animals in her hands. Kat was standing in front of her, sorting through the stuffed animals with wide eyes. “There’s so many,” Kat glanced up at Aragon, “how much did this cost?”

“Money’s not important. You were telling me about how much you loved the dogs at the shelter Jane took you to, so I knew you’d like these too. Think of it as a way to have them with you all the time.” Aragon spoke softly, her hand carefully brushing some hair away from Kat’s face.

A pit grew in Jane’s stomach. That was something she did with Kat. Not something Aragon did, something Jane did. It was her special thing, why -

Jane had to cut herself off. She kept berating herself internally for getting so caught up with this. All the queens were close, it wasn’t against any rules for Aragon to care for Kat. Aragon wasn’t a bad person, Jane knew that. But she kept wanting to believe that she was better than Aragon, and that she should be the one giving Kat gifts. This… this wasn’t the status quo.

Tuning back in, Jane watched as Kat took the crate from Aragon’s arms and beamed as wide as her face would allow. “I love them Catherine, I love you.”

And that was the last straw for Jane.

The next day, Jane had a surprise for Kat. If this didn’t win her over for good, she didn’t know what would. Aragon and Kat had gone out together for lunch, and the other queens were off doing who-knows-what. Jane was prepared, and she would wait in front of the door for as long as it took for Kat to show up.

Silently, Jane stared at the door. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, she knew it was wrong. But knowing you have a problem and being able to fix it are two different things. The only way she knew to get rid of this deep ache in her chest was to win. To win Kat’s affection, to win her attention, and to win her love. This girl was like her daughter, and she wasn’t going to let Aragon take that from her.

The door opened, bringing with it lively conversation. “Nando’s never fails,” Aragon laughed, herding Kat into the room. “But you shouldn’t order so much if you aren’t going to eat it.”

“Oh come on,” Kat rolled her eyes, “how else are we going to get leftovers for days? I’ve picked up on a life hack or two, you know.” Kat stopped speaking when she noticed Jane watching her. “Hey Jane,” she waved. Aragon and Kat stood in confusion at Jane’s still figure.

“Is everything alright?” Aragon was slightly put off by the other queen’s iciness.

“Yes, just fine,” Jane replied. “I have something for you Kat.”

Warily, Kat approached Jane and sat down next to her. There was something clearly wrong with Jane, and Kat was quite aware of it. “What is it?” she asked.

Reaching under her legs, Jane pulled out a small cage. She opened it, and out popped the small white dog Kat had been playing with at the shelter. Kat and Aragon gasped, both surprised at the furry creature’s appearance. “Jane... I…” Kat was unsure what to say.

“I got her for you, I know how much you loved playing with her,” Jane encouraged Kat to take the dog. Nervously, Kat obliged, picking up the animal.

Aragon frowned and made her way over to Jane. “It’s a sweet gesture and all, but Jane, you know we don’t have any way to support a dog right? We’re going to have to return her.”

“Yeah, and as much as I love her, wasn’t she already adopted by another family?” Kat recalled.

Batting off the concern, Jane inched away from the dog, her skin already turning red. “Nothing a little payment couldn’t fix. Besides, you liked her, so it was worth it.”

Still, Aragon was unconvinced. “Jane, just because Kat likes the dog doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to buy it.”

Standing up, Jane snarled, “Just because Kat likes animals doesn’t mean you have to buy her a crate full of them.” She then recoiled, realizing what her voice sounded like. “I - I.”

“Stop it!” Kat set the dog down and stepped away from Jane and Aragon. “Why are you fighting?”

“We’re not fighting,” Aragon assured Kat, taking a step towards her.

Scoffing, Kat moved away from them. “Maybe it doesn’t seem like it, but I’ve noticed. As soon as one of you does something nice, the other has to one up them. I don’t need all these gifts.”

“But you want them,” Jane added hopefully.

Shaking her head, Kat crossed her arms. “I want to spend time with you. Both of you. Together, if that’s even possible. You two have been at odds for the past week and I’m sick of it. I’ve tried to ignore it and enjoy the good things, but I can’t anymore. Why is it so hard to accept that I want to spend time with both of you?”

“Because I was here first?” Jane offered. “You’ve always wanted to spend time with me, Kat.”

Aragon tried to put herself in front of Jane. “Because I’m here when she isn't. Why keep going back to Jane when I’m always here for you.”

Biting her lip, Kat couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Do you two even listen to yourselves? This is so stupid. I don’t want you fighting over me.” Moving to round the couch and make a clean getaway to the stairs, Kat shot the two of them a disappointed glare. “I can’t spend time with either of you, not like this.”

“Kat!” Jane called her before the girl could disappear. “Aren’t you supposed to say you love me?” It was something she had become so used to hearing Kat say to her at the end of every conversation.

Shaking her head once more, Kat turned away. “I’m not sure I can say that truthfully right now.” Then she was gone, the closing over her bedroom door echoing throughout the house a moment later.

Jane turned to Aragon and they both glared at each other. “You’ve been doing it too, huh,” Jane broached, her voice defensive.

“I’ve only been trying to make sure she knows I care about her,” Aragon argued, crossing her arms.

“No,” Jane accused, “You’ve been using her to satisfy your own need to be a mother.”

“Well you’ve been doing it for longer than I have.”

Clicking her tongue, Jane sat down on the couch next to the dog. “Maybe I have. But I can’t stop. It’s the best feeling in the world, like a - like a -”

“Like a drug,” Aragon filled in. “I know.” She gave up and sat next to Jane. “You know what it’s like when Kat smiles at you better than anyone. And once she started looking at me that way…”

“You couldn’t let it go,” Jane added on. “I know,” she swallowed, “I know you aren’t a bad influence. I’m sorry I’ve been treating you like one. I don’t know how to get used to Kat seeing someone else the same way she sees me. Kat’s like my daughter.”

Aragon nodded, leaving the two queens in silence. “It might be a little weird at first,” Aragon broke the quiet air, “But we could try, maybe, spending time with Kat together? Like she said, it doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

Some defiant part of Jane still wanted to resist. She wanted to be the only one, she wanted things to be the way they were before Aragon entered the picture. But for once, Jane took a step towards fixing her mindset. “Let’s do it. If it’ll make things better, then let’s do it.”

In a moment of awkwardness, the two queens stared at each other, unsure of what to do next. Aragon stuck out her hand, hoping for Jane to seal the deal. Jane took the hand and the two of them shook on their agreement.

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

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree @boleynhowards @annabanana2401 @babeebobo @dont-lose-your-queerhead @everything-insanity @mindless-pidgeon @i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six @thedemidisaster @its-totes-gods-will @thatbolxyngirl @thenameisnoone @sixqueendom

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #sixfic #jane seymour #katherine howard #catherine of aragon #tw: toxic mindsets #tw:toxic behavior #i tried to do this as respectfully and accurately as possible #i don't know how well it turned out #hopefully not super terrible #i just realized how much i hate resolving things #i always keep my endings open ended #which probably annoys the hell out of you guys #but that's my thing so #i guess you'll have to roll with it

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honestlyfragile · 5 years

Text

Jinxed - Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female reader

Genre: fluff, crack, winter!au

Wc: 3.1k

Summary: Chan had always had a thing for knick knacks, and you’re just right on season. But are refunds possible? Or will he just have to deal with being… jinxed?

Your novelty shop was a tradition passed onto your family for decades. It was open all year round but since Christmas was around the corner, it was more active than ever. You sold items that were brand new, and some antiques that were either donated, or preserved stocks that haven’t been sold in years.

Ever since winter break, your mother certainly took the chance of asking you to watch the store this time, and you couldn’t really turn her down. Besides. it wasn’t that hard to do so. You would just punch the items on the cash register, then it’s sold. Pretty easy, right? Except for when customers have way too many questions. Especially for the antique items. Questions that go as far as the origin of the item, which you should know of. Gladly, every single donated item had its own story to tell.

It was a few minutes before your lunch break, but just as you were going to put up the “On Lunch Break” sign, a boy with ash blonde hair with a faded brown undertone wearing a thick, black leather jacket with a red knitted scarf entered the store. His eyes slowly wandering from left to right as soon as the chimes on the door tingled. You sigh, but you had to entertain them. Your lunch could wait.

“Good day! How can I help you?” You smile.

“Uh, yes good day to you too,” he awkwardly greets, and you give him a nod.

“Looking for anything in particular?”

“Oh i was hoping to buy a snow globe.” He rubs his cold hands together, his pale skin turning red.

“We have a lot of those here, do you prefer new ones or antiques?” You suggest.

“Antiques? Those seem cool, they are still in good condition, right?”

“Of course they are. Let me show you where it is.” You exit the cash register and lead him into the section of the well preserved antique snow globes. “Some of these go way back fifty years ago. But they are a bit pricier the older they are.” You give him a heads up.

“That should be fine. Fifty years you say? May I take a look at that?” His eyes light up, you start to think that maybe he did have a thing for collecting these kind.

You scan the selection and carefully reach for the one that had an intricately carved bronze base, while the globe had a small Christmas village on it. With both hands, you hand it over for him to observe.

“Wow.” He lightly shakes it to make the snow flakes float around. “May I know the origins of this one?” He says, eyes still glued to the knick knack.

“That one is from England. It was donated to us.”

“Interesting. How much is it?” He looks at you this time, and notices your nametag.

You couldn’t help but smile back at the excitement of this boy. “It’s a hundred and fifty dollars.”

His eyes widen, but doesn’t complain. “Consider it sold.”

You carefully take the item from him, and go back to the cash register. You get it a nice box and tie it with a red ribbon, for the design and security of the package. “Here you go, thank you for the purchase.” You smile and hand it to him.

“Thank you, ____.” He smiles, turns his back and leaves the store. You could finally have your lunch.

It was kind of him to have taken note of your name, but you never really got his. But he was just a customer anyways.

----

Chan arrived home and ever so carefully took out the item he had purchased from your store. He lightly tugs on the red ribbon that you had beautifully knotted around the box, and they slowly fall on the sides. He opens it and cautiously slips his quite large hands into the box, and he could barely fit it inside. Still, he tried to grip the glass ball and once he had gotten a hold of it, he flips it over with care. Bothered by the fingerprints that he left on it, he took it with both hands and fogged up the glass with his warm breath. He wipes it with his sweater paws and it went back to its crystalline form. Satisfied, he shakes it to make the snowflakes float around and places it on his bedside table, where his lamp shade was also located.

He smiles, pleased with what he just acquired, which he thought was a rare item. It was, and he had absolutely no idea what it might bring him.

----

The weather was more frigid than usual, it was zero close to negative. He had checked all of his windows if they were tightly shut, and they were. He shudders, and rubs his palms together and warms it with his breath. He tries to turn the heat up, because the temperature indoors most certainly wouldn’t do.

“What the heck?” He fumbles with the heater, which didn’t want to turn on. Even if it was very much plugged into the mounted outlet on the wall. He unplugs it, then plugs again. But it still didn’t work. “The power couldn’t be out, the lights are fine, the others are working too..” he pouts and scratches the back of his head.

Setting aside the busted appliance, he thought that maybe he could just eat and drink something warm, like hot chocolate and some spicy ramen. He pours hot water onto his mug and mixes in the dark cocoa powder and adds two tablespoons of brown sugar. The scent and aroma kissing his nose. He lifts the mug onto his lips, and carefully takes a sip— it was too hot. He got startled because his tongue got stung by the burning sensation, and at the same time, some of the drink has also spilled on his clothes. “Shit.” He mumbles, frustrated. He couldn’t even enjoy a cup of hot chocolate without something unfortunate happening. Maybe his luck with making ramen would be fine, he’s done this a hundred times, what could possibly go wrong?

Now more cautious than ever with his actions, he gets a cooking pot and fills it halfway with water. He grips it tightly, just in case the water would want to suddenly leap out of the pot, right? Safe. The pot made it to the top of the stove, and he sighs in relief. He turns up the heat, setting it to high and impatiently waited for it to boil. He was freezing.

Chan had his own way of making ramen, he learned it from a former room mate. He puts the seasoning powder first and lets it simmer before he boils the noodles. He was doing so well until the gas stove had suddenly just stopped heating the food. The fire had disappeared, and his noodles weren’t even soft enough to be eaten yet. He tries to stay calm, and turns the knob of the stove over and over again, but no sign of ignition. He ran out of gas.

“You have got to be kidding me.” his palms rest on the marble counter, the cold sensation hitting his skin and he flinches. He curses to himself, he has never been this unlucky before.

He had no choice, he couldn’t just throw the meal away. He got his electric kettle and hoped that the noodles would continue to cook there. He transfers the half cooked ramen to the small opening of the kettle and it slightly spills on the side, but thankfully, he made it work.

“Who eats ramen that was cooked in a electric kettle? Psh.” He shakes his head in disbelief, but eats it anyways.

As he quietly tried to enjoy his meal, his head uplifts to look at his wall calendar, thinking that it might have been Friday the 13th or he might have stepped on a crack on the pavements on his way home. His bad luck had to come from somewhere. And to his surprise, it was. December 13th, 2019, Friday. And for once, he had believed that it all made sense. It was just Friday the thirteenth.

-----

Chan woke up the next day, not sure if he felt lucky or not. The first thing he does is get his phone from his side table, his eyes barely even opened. Before he could even read the time, his phone drops on his face, and hits his nose, hard. “Jesus!” He rubs the bridge of his nose, now quite red from the impact of the gadget. He runs his hands through his hair and carefully stands and stretches. He walks over to a safe spot, making sure that his limbs won’t knock anything over. He successfully does his push-ups. He walks over to the blank wall beside his desk and does a handstand. So far, so good. He huffed, and does a couple handstand push-ups, then carefully plops down.

He heads over to his desk to shake the snow globe that he bought, takes his small time admiring the details of what was inside, then sets it down once again. He goes to the bathroom and washes his face with a cleanser as he lathers it lavishly. By the time that he tried to turn on the sink again, there wasn’t any water coming out of it. He opens his eyes as a reflex, totally forgetting that he still has soap in his eyes, causing it to sting. And as another reflex, he rubs his eyes only to find out that the hand he used was covered in foam as well. He stomps his foot, nothing has ever went his way ever since he got home from your store. The only way that he could possibly remove all the residue on his face was to use the drinking water he had, which was an absolute waste. As the saying goes, “When ill luck begins, it does not come in sprinkles but in showers.”

Chan started to think that maybe something else had been bringing him this horrible luck. Many Friday the thirteenths have passed in his whole 23-year old life but he has never had it this bad. Actually, he could not recall the last time where he was running out of luck. Chan wasn’t the type of person to believe in superstitions that much, but the shower of unfortunate events made him believe that it wasn’t just all a coincidence.

He sat in front of his desk, plopping down on his swiveling chair. He runs his hands through his hair and goes in deep thought. Again he glances at the snow globe. He crosses his arms. “Could it be?” he shakes his head, “no, no, it can’t it’s a snow globe what can it possibly do?” He pauses. “But what if it is? Should i go back and ask for a refund or would that be too stupid?” He raises his eyebrows and puts his hand under his chin. He was literally having a conversation with himself at this point and it was hilarious.

He abruptly stands up, causing him to get dizzy. He rubs his temples and proceeds to grab his coat, he was going back to your store. He got the box that was used for the snow globe and even the ribbon, of course he didn’t know how to tie it as good as you did, nonetheless he tried to get the package to the original stage that it was in.

It had been snowing a handful outside but it was still safe to drive. He places the package on the passenger’s seat and even blocks it with a seatbelt. “It could have been you. You’re the one who’s bringing me bad luck. You can’t fool me with how good you look.” He glances over the item, and proceeds to drive. The light had been yellow and he tried to beat it, unfortunately he was caught and halted onto the side. He was given a driving ticket. His bad luck was a whole avalanche.

He arrives at the store, practically storming in. You were surprised to see the boy again, but the smile on his face has definitely vanished. “May I help you?” you look at him, puzzled.

He arrives at the counter and sets down the item. “Yes i would like a refund.”

“We don’t do refunds sir I’m sorry. But is the item damaged? Why would you want to make a refund?” You questioned, surprised because no one has ever asked a refund from your store, for as far as you could remember.

“No, it’s perfectly fine. Physically.” He looks down on his feet, his ears turn red.

“Then I don’t seem to understand the problem here sir.” You were still very much confused.

“It’s just, i don’t want it anymore.” He stutters and purses his lips in embarrassment, he couldn’t get himself to say that it was because he thought that it was bringing him bad luck.

“I told you, we don’t do refunds. And what’s with the reason that you have? That’s not very sensible.” You raise your eyebrows, like you knew that he wasn’t telling you something.

“Please I can’t really take this thing home anymore” he pleads but it was still very much ineffective.

“Not until you tell us why you don’t want it anymore. I clearly remember how excited you were when you got it.” You look at him in disbelief.

“It brings me bad luck!” he blurts out, and bites his lips. He fidgets with his cuticles.

“It what?” you couldn’t help but laugh, and you knew that it was impolite to do so. But it didn’t make sense to you at all. But you purse your lips right away.

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again.” He looks down, his ears red from being flustered, and fidgets with his cuticles once again.

“Okay let’s have a deal then, you leave that item here for a day and see if anything changes. Also, if you don’t come back then I won’t be giving you your money.” You shrug, hoping to have made a decent deal with this bothered young man.

He takes a deep breath and doesn’t make eye contact. As if he did not want to agree. “Fine.” he finally lets out, and you smile.

“So it’s settled then?” You get the package from him and store it somewhere for safe keeping. You could not believe you had just agreed to this boy’s request. He was cute anyways, totally harmless.

Instantly, Chan was in a better mood. He just felt like he was lucky again, or at the very least he was back to normal. He smiles at you, and for the first time, it was blinding. Like the whole atmosphere of the store has changed. You were stunned, you could barely hear what he was saying.

He waves his hands in front of your face, and you snap out of it. “___ hello?” He calls you by your name once again and you swear it has never sounded that good. “I’ll be coming back yeah? Thanks for letting me work out this situation of mine.” He clicks his tongue, and winks. Before you knew it, he was out of your store.

-----

It was something about him returning the item that made you feel a sudden change, whether it was in you or amongst your surroundings. For some reason, you have looked forward to seeing him again, when back then you could not have cared less. Getting a crush on a customer wasn’t so practical now, was it?

Business is booming today. You watch people go in and out of the shop but the one person you hoped to see didn’t come. You anticipated his return because for the first time, you looked forward to working your shift. But you still never got his name. Good old no name.

But just when you were about to wrap things up and close the store, he catches up to the entrance. He breathes heavily and pants, the white December air escaping is lips. His throat is dry, so he swallows before he speaks. “Look, wait is it too late to get that refund?”

You sigh, you were about to lock the door already. “Well, technically yes. But since you made the effort, i’ll go and open for a bit again.” You try to hide your smile as you turn your back, but you knew that he did the same. The lights were back on and you head to the register. “So, were you lucky today?” you laugh, as if it were to be teasing him of his absurd reason yesterday.

“Y-yeah. Pretty lucky. I mean look i made it whole today.” He straightens his coat and brushes off the snow.

“If you were lucky, you wouldn’t have been late today.” you chaff, shaking your head.

“That’s a different story okay! I had to attend to something” he reasoned out.

He was adorable. You couldn’t deny that. But you loved to see him all defensive. “Okay, fine. Here you go. I’m not telling my mother about this refund so let’s just pretend it never happened or else i’ll get in trouble.” You take the cash out of the register and hand it to him.

“Your mother? Why?” He asks out of curiosity.

“We own the place so yeah. This is basically breaking the rules…” you trail off. “Anyways. I guess i won’t be seeing you again since the whole thing is sorted out now.” You don’t exactly know if you shoot your shot with what you just said.

“Who says we’ll just see each other here?” he smirks and you were taken back. Your cheeks flush bright red. He caught on.

“I work here, not really much free time with me.” you fumble with the closest thing you could get your hands on, which was a pen with a red fuzzy ball on top.

“I’m going to test my luck one last time today” He rubs his hands together and takes a deep breath.

“Huh?”

“Where are you going after this? Like after you close the store.”

“Uh, home?”

“Do you want to… perhaps get some coffee with me? Or hot chocolate, only if you’d like.” He smiles, and you’re weak on the knees.

“I’d love to.” Your cheeks were flushed but you didn’t care, he actually asked you out!

“Well I guess that’s enough luck for today. Shall we go?” He offers, but you had one last question in mind.

“I don’t even know your name.” You playfully roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“Chan. Or Chris, or… cutie whatever floats your boat.” He giggles and it was music to your ears.

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jeonsduck · 4 years

Text

Smoke and Mirrors Pt 3

warnings: san says fuck

summary: *bad day by daniel powter plays*

“Mrow.”

You groaned, cracking your eyes open. Your cat was squatting on your chest, meowing in your ear to wake you up.

“Ugh, Noodles, my alarm hasn’t even gone off, leave me alone.” you whine, trying to push your cat away.

But he’s persistent, not letting you go back to sleep. He prods at your face with his paw and continues to yowl until you decide to get up. You huff and kick your legs before sitting up and throwing your covers off.

“Fine! Fine! I’m up! I’ll feed you, you monster!” you gripe, and as you get up from bed you catch sight of the little clock on your bedside table. 9:15 AM. Fuck. You’re over an hour late for work already. You hadn’t bothered to set your alarm when you got in from being interrogated last night, and you’d overslept.

The panic you feel is palpable as you turn your phone over and see it’s dead. Your supervisor is going to kill you.

You rush through getting ready at lightning speed and manage to get out the door in twenty-five minutes. You put your phone on charge in the car, and you speed to work as quickly as you dare, getting a ticket would only make you later than you already were. When your phone restarted, it began buzzing with a flurry of text messages and calls, angry from your supervisor, and worried from Jacob. Oh, you’re so dead.

You manage to rush into the office before half past ten, huffing a sigh of almost relief as you set your things down at your desk. Jacob shot you a worried look at your frazzled state and your supervisor was standing in the door of her office.

“Y/N, let’s have a little chat?” she called, disappearing into her office.

You sighed and Jacob winced for you. You straightened your hair and outfit and said a little prayer before walking into the office, closing the door behind you.

“So, had an emergency this morning, did you?” she asked, sipping a cup of coffee.

“No, ma’am, I didn’t set my alarm the night before and I overslept…. I was up very late with FBI being cross-examined-” you began to explain and she slammed the mug down on her desk.

“So, it’s Agent Heejin’s fault you were two hours late for work this morning?” she asked.

You shook your head quickly.

“No, that’s my responsibility.” You responded and she nodded.

“Yes it is. It was also your responsibility to record yesterday’s meeting with Mr. Choi, but you failed to do that too. Which is why I’ve had administration shouting me down since this morning about the incompetence of my employees.” she seethes.

“Coming in a few minutes late? It’s fine. Messing up a couple of details on a case? No big deal. But this is two hours late, while you’re working one of the most important cases this office has ever seen. You look like an incompetent fool. Not to mention letting Mr. Choi pay for your lunch.” she said, matter-of-factly.

“What’s wrong with letting San buy me lunch?” you asked.

“Letting ‘San’ buy you lunch is wrong because if his clients are found guilty, that could be seen as a bribe, and then we’ll be investigated as well. You thought last night with the FBI was rough? I hope you enjoy sleep deprivation. And I trust I don’t have to remind you to refer to your contact as Mr. Choi?” she was obviously more furious that you had asked that question.

Maybe you should have just waited and asked Jacob.

“Sadly for me, fourtunately for you, the higher-ups still want you on this case, but if it were up to me, I wouldn’t just pull up from this job, I��d fire you on the spot. As it is, I’ll dock your pay for half a day and you’ll lose some paid leave as well. And maybe if you stay on your best behavior for the remainder of this job, I might not terminate you once you’re done.”

She shooed you away after that, letting you know that San was trying to contact you about the files you’d asked for the day before. You went back to your desk, where you started going over your notes of San’s clients to distract yourself. You had messed up, and yes, you deserved to be disciplined. You weren’t even that hurt about it.

Regardless, your notes ended up with a spattering of angry teardrops on the pages of your notes. God, what were you crying for? Jacob offered you his tissue box and a sad look.

“Shut up, Jacob, I’m not in the mood.” you griped and he held his hands up in surrender.

Ugh, you hadn’t meant to snap at him too. Maybe if you hadn’t showed up for work two hours late, you could have gone and hid in the bathroom until you felt better. Sadly, you had to stick it out in your cubicle while your coworkers walked around like the office floor was a minefield. When your phone rang suddenly, you jumped at the noise and sniffled, quickly answering it.

“Hello, this is Y/N.”

“Y/N! Hey, it’s San!” San said, sounding way more cheerful than you felt he had the right to be.

“Oh, hello Mr. Choi.” you greeted, remembering to talk more formally.

“Y/N, we went over this yesterday at lunch. Please, call me San, Mr. Choi is my father.” he sighed.

“My supervisor has reminded me its unprofessional to call you by your first name while I’m working your case.” you replied.

Thank God her office door was closed.

“Well, your supervisor can get fucked. Call me, San.” he said, and you barely held in your snort.

“Fine, San. You got my files?” you asked.

“Yes, I do! A whole box of them. The electronic ones are all on a USB, but you wanted original documents and well, as you know, my clients have no small amount of assets.” He said.

“Oh, I’m quite aware. I can come by and pick them up-”

“Oh no need for that! I was already leaving the office today so we’ll swing by your place and drop them off. You wouldn’t happen to be free for a late lunch today would you?” San asked.

You sighed. Lunch with San sounded kind of nice. Way better than the lunch break your were expecting to have today.

“Sorry. My supervisor has also alerted me that you buying me lunch qualifies as a bribe.” you rejected.

“Seriously? Why’s your boss such a buzzkill?” San sounded reasonably upset.

“Anyway, I’m almost there, so come on down, I’ll see you in a minute.” he said and hung up.

You made your way over to the elevators, too caught up in your own head to realize that San had called you on your cell phone, not your work line. You didn’t remember giving him the number, but you suppose you could have done it and forgotten about it. Your supervisor would probably blow her top if she found out.

You also couldn’t recall telling San the address of your office, or that you worked on an upper floor, but he could have found that from Google. Maybe. Or maybe you mentioned that at lunch or in a phone call or in an email. You were too stressed out to really care, you probably just forgot a few details of your conversations. “Y/N, over here.”

You looked over to where San was standing, a printer paper box in his arms and a hard shell backpack on his back. He was dressed less wildly than he had been the day before, but his shirt was still purple and leopard print, as were his pants, but they were grey in color. He set the box down when he saw you, taking in your red eyes and slightly dishevelled appearance.

“Are you okay? You look upset.” he asks.

“S’nothing. I overslept and ended up being super late for work and I was supposed to record the meeting we had yesterday, and my boss ,like, just got done ripping me a new one.” you said with a shrug.

“Did you cry?” he asked.

You flushed, hands coming up to cover your face.

“Is it that obvious?”

“No, but if you overslept your eyes wouldn’t be that red unless you cried.” he said.

“Yeah well, its whatever. Thanks for dropping these off.” you said, reaching for the box.

“Wait!” San said, handing the box back to one of his guards.

He walked over to a bench and sat down, beckoning you over. He carefully slid his backpack off and into his lap. The backpack had a bubble window and inside you could see a Siamese cat looking out.

“This is Byul. We’re going to the vet for a check up.” he says, unzipping the backpack and taking the cat out.

In the middle of the lobby of your place of work. But Byul meows cutely, obviously confused because this is NOT her home, but it’s also not the vet. San hands her to you and you cradle her in your arms for a second, letting some of your stress melt away.

“Take a break. Pet the cat. You can go back up there and tackle that box of paperwork after you’ve destressed for a second, yeah?” he says, patting Byul on the head.

She meows, but in a good way.

“She’s so sweet.” You commented as San watched you pet his cat.

You sat on the bench until it looked like Byul was getting a bit too comfortable. San put her back in the backpack, which was met with some protests.

“My guys went ahead and took the box upstairs. If you need anything else, just call me. Good luck.” he said, heading out the door.

“Oh, and by the way, your boss sucks.” he added.

You watched as one of the guards opened the car door for him, standing in the lobby until they drove away. Then you took a deep breath and headed back upstairs.

Two hours into the financial records of Kim Hongjoong and you felt like you were going to tear your hair out. You could see why he looked so suspicious. He owned 51% of growing fashion houses, meaning he effectively owned the entire business. But as soon as the brand started to get some recognition and traction he jumped ship and sold all his stocks. Which often times meant he profited from the growth and bailed before taxes were due to be paid, taking huge profits and leaving other investors to handle any hits the brand might take. Not to mention his investments were routed through an investment firm that he also owned and it’s clothing company subsidiary. Basically, it was just shell company after shell company. That wasn’t all. He had money squirreled away in the Cayman Islands and Swiss bank accounts. He had tax exemptions donations, farming, industry. He even claimed Jongho as a dependent! Hongjoong had utilized tax loopholes to the full extent of the law. And while everything you’d reviewed so far was legal, it was highly suspicious. It was interesting how criminals and the bourgeoisie utilized the same methods to protect their empires.

And even with the documents you’d asked San for, there were still holes. Not just for hundreds or thousands, but millions of dollars. You couldn’t even move on to the others until you could paint a full picture of how Honjoong’s money moved.

Ugh, even thinking about the other six made your head ache. Their assets were so intertwined with each other, you felt like you were watching yourself walk around in circles.

When you finished for the day, you felt no closer to understanding the big picture than when you started. You shot San an email about some more information on Hongjoong and left the office.

The next morning, your supervisor didn’t show up for work. Not good for you, because San was asking you over to his offices instead of having the both of you running back and forth across town to exchange notes.

“Just let your FBI contact know and go. If she comes in I’ll tell her I told you to go.” Jacob said, nudging you towards the door.

Heejin didn’t ask you to record, but she did ask you to report anything that seemed suspicious, and she’d follow up with you every other day with questions. It sounded like a plan to you. You gathered your thick binder of notes and your box of files and headed over to San’s offices.

The place was… different than you had expected. You had been looking for a sleek and modern corporate building, but San’s office was in a commercial suite. He didn’t run a firm, he was the sole accountant for all of his clients. That was insane.

His secretary sat in the front room, a woman with short blue hair and an intricate tattoo winding up her arm.

“Are you Y/N?” she asked.

“Yes, you’re Jasmine?” you confirmed, but she shook her head.

“No, I’m Keran. Jasmine got transferred last week.” she said.

Before you could ask what transferred meant, San came out the back door, Byul weaving between his feet. He brought his cat to work?

“Y/N! Great you’re here. We don’t have a lot of space here, but I had the guys set you up a desk in the file room, so everything is there is you need any forms or anything. But if you get too claustrophobic in there, we can move you to the breakroom or something.

“Oh, I be fine in the file room. Thanks again for letting me set up here.” you said as San lead you down a narrow hallway.

“Oh don’t mention it! The bathroom is the second door on the left and feel free to call if you need anything, or Byul won’t move off of your laptop.” he said with a smile.

At the sound of her name, Byul meowed. You and San both chuckled and you leaned down to scratch her on the head. She headbutted your leg and San happily watched you play with his cat.

Working in the file room was way easier. If you were missing a form you could get it yourself, San was extremely organized. He was also nice enough to bring you coffee from time to time. Really, he was such an angel.

The next day your boss wasn’t back, and after checking in with Heejin and Jacob you went back to San’s to continue working. And she still wasn’t back the day after that. On the fourth day her family reported here missing. After her leave ran out, the administration appointed a new supervisor for your department. He confirmed you to work from San’s offices for the duration of the case, meaning you didn’t have to check in at the office everyday before heading over to his building.

You never did see that first supervisor again. No one did. You wondered what had happened to her, and you still didn’t know, even now. But something told you you didn’t want to know where she was.

#san #choi san #ateez san #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #san x reader #choi san x reader #san fanfic #san scenarios #san imagines

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honeybeesintheimpala · 5 years

Text

Title: An Angel's Lullaby

Pairing: DeanCas, Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Words: 93,662

Status: Complete

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7984306/chapters/18268822

Chapter One - The Man with the Ocean Eyes

"Excuse me," a gravelly voice suddenly fills the room and Dean's pen nearly goes flying, heart pumping. It's been at least two days since anyone's even walked through those doors and being alone with his thoughts isn't exactly a new thing but for that long, it gets to be a surprise when someone says something. He keeps it under control though, doesn't look up except a quick glance at a nice pair of khakis and a deep purple jumper.

He goes back to scribbling on the piece of paper where he's supposed to be filling out a request for another truck to come and take away a few boxes of older books, bring them to a charity or a foster house somewhere.

"What can I help you with," he says, surprised that his own voice is bored considering his heart is pounding out a Jamaican beat and he's pretty sure he almost pissed his pants.

"I was just wondering if there are any books that you might recommend? I'm in the mood for reading, but not really sure what to look for," the man speaks at a low volume, as if there's anyone here to be disturbed.

Dean's intrigue is piqued though, so he pauses his doodles, knits his eyebrows together and looks up.

His eyes trace up the outline of his jumper, which wraps nicely around a narrow waist and a great chest, then leads into a white collared shirt, tan neck, a scruffy jaw that can't decide between chiseled and soft, some full lips that look like they might be chapped bit also look incredibly kissable, a straight-edge nose, and finally, two unfathomable blue eyes, shining bright as the Caribbean ocean that Dean is entirely too sure they are made of. His hair is a messy looking, bed-head-esque mop of dark chocolate brown and he smiles down at Dean as if he isn't the most attractive person Dean's ever encountered.

He's actually blown away by the fact that this man is inside a nearly failing library right now instead of out modeling a white pinstripe suit and blue tie from Men's Warehouse somewhere.

This time, Dean thinks he may actually piss his pants, but he refrains from any sort of urination onto cloth, as a mind-blowingly handsome man with some captivating blue eyes that seem to have stolen the sea is standing in front of his desk, asking about books.

He also refrains from exhibiting all of these passing thoughts on his face, because it feels like it's been a few minutes since he asked the question and the guy's probably starting to think Dean's some weirdo who can't speak under pressure.

"Library's a dying business, sir," he sits back in his chair and sets the pen down slowly. "Yeah, all the kids got their...electronic readers and...there are bookstores that sell books. Never out of stock of a specific book. Sometimes we get that; not having a specific book because all the copies got checked out...or we used to have that..."

The man stares down at him with such focus and intent, nodding along and knitting his brows together. Who is this guy?

"Nah, I mean, it's amazing that...someone wants a book so badly and loves it so much that they gotta buy it and have it forever," Dean continues, then leans forward again, grabbing a book to his left and wiggling it in the air. "Not so awesome for the library."

"That's so...intriguing...that you respect those other industries so much..." He replies, squinting, head tilting in a puppy dog manner.

Dean chuckles, setting the book down. Stares at the black cover as his smile slowly fades.

"Not much else I can do," he shrugs, shuffling through several books to find the one with the light yellow-beige cover, red outline and text reading Oliver Twist glaring up at him, and a small, square, painted picture of a boy in a hat playing at the edge of a wood sitting just above the title. "Once these places shut down, I'll inevitably drift into a bookstore, sign up to be a clerk or a stocker. 'Cause I mean," he flips the book over and opens the back page. Pulls out the name card from the pocket glued to the inside of the cover and examines it. "Yeah, a book ain't been checked out from here in three months."

He laughs and throws the book to his right, watches it skid across the table and come to a stop beside the red canvas hardcover with shiny blue letters indenting the words Of Mice and Men.

"Wow...so...I mean, how do you guys stay in business?" The guy is leaning ever forward, hands gripping the edge of the desk and arms stick straight as he balances himself over the books.

Dean smirks up at him.

"Ah," he scrubs at the back of his neck, cheeks hot, and looks away into the corner of the main entrance. "Well, charities? Mostly...and, uh, you know, school fundraisers, donations from the coffee shop down the street." He squints up at the giant skylight making up about ninety percent of the roof, thinking. "Oh, uh...this one guy. Some sorta bookwrite. Author of...damn, what are those things called...gaaahh...oh! An Angel's Lullaby!" Recognition passes over the man's face in clear abundance. "Guy's name, I'm still drawin' a blank on--"

"Chuck Shurley," the guy cuts him off but Dean is impressed. It's such an obscure book but he obviously knows it well.

"Yeah!" He points at the guy. "Yeah, yeah. You know him? I mean, his work?"

"Yeah...too well...why?"

"Ah, no...I'm just...just surprised, you know? Not a real popular selection," Dean thinks for a moment and it falls silent once more. Then: "You met him? He did a book signing here once. Not many people came, but..."

"Oh, yeah I've met him..." He doesn't elaborate, but Dean suspects it's because he just explained it for the guy, and it seems like it's making him a little uncomfortable anyway.

"Uh," he looks for something that might change the subject. "Well, to answer your first question..." He opens his mouth to continue but ends up chuckling and shaking his head. "Look, man, there's just too many books and not enough time. I've been coming to this library my entire life, probably read every single book by now. I mean, I can point you to some of my favourites, I guess, but really the only one off the top of my head and without me getting up is An Angel's Lullaby."

"Are you religious?" He asks suddenly and Dean's bewildered by the inquiry until he realises how obsessed he must seem with the book.

"Oh..." He breathes out a laugh. "Nah, that's...I'm an atheist, actually. I'm just...really into angels. Religions and...gods and deities are my thing. To be honest, I could probably list thirty Christian angels off the top of my head."

"Really," he seems impressed and Dean blushes harder. "How about...the three main archangels and...the Angel of Thursday."

Specific...and strange. But okay, he'll play along. For the sake of flirting.

"Okay...well there's Michael, the eldest son of God who was set to the task of casting Lucifer, second oldest, into hell because he claimed he could not love humanity as he loved his father. Gabriel, protector of humanity, present at the birth of Jesus Christ and the deliverer of the Holy news. And then...actually, my favourite, if I'm honest-" he looks up and watches the man's lips part, a blush crawling up his neck too, and he briefly wonders why, "-Castiel. Angel of Thursday, keeper of prayers said on that day." He smirks for a second before adding, "Always heard he was a real looker."

The man seems flustered, tugging at his jumper, pulling the v-neck away from his chest and adjusting his collar.

"Me too," he chokes out and Dean thinks it's entirely unfair how cute this man looks with a scarlet flush painting his cheeks and his hands not able to find a resting placing.

"I..." Dean starts, gazing down at his hand fiddling with the edge of a hardcover, nail scraping against the canvas. "I think I remember a few more books. Not real sure what you would like, but, uh..." He tears a corner off of the paper he was drawing on and scribbles down the titles and respective authors, then continues as he hands the list to the man. "Most of 'em are...classics...Little Women, Gone With the Wind, A Wrinkle in Time, Wuthering Heights...the original and best...version of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."

The man smiles down at the list and then down at Dean, and Dean's heart leaps into his throat.

"Thank you," he says quietly and Dean's eyes flit down, small smile of modest pride lifting his lips.

"Don't mention it," he whispers back, gaze meeting the man's once more. Then he leans forward and takes up the pen again, waggling it between two fingers. He leans on his bent arm and says, "So, you plannin' on checkin' anything out today, sir?"

And, without blinking or missing a beat, the man replies with the most unexpected answer, letting the words drip from his lips like fuckin' honey when he replies, "Just you."

Dean is astonished at this guy's guts, but a brazen vocabulary and a cocky attitude is exactly the kind of thing that gets him going.

He opens his mouth in a shocked kind of smile, and shakes his head as if he's offended at the nerve of those words.

"I...don't even know your name," Dean says slowly, eyes twitching from the man's leg to his chest to his mouth to his eyes. When they meet, the man tilts his head with another squint, this one more challenging than curious. Amazing how he can squint in the same manner with just the slightest differences and change the entire composure of the movement.

But Dean doesn't let himself get too distracted by this ability, and soon encounters a moment of realisation.

The blushing, fidgeting, stumbling words when he talked about Castiel...

"Your name is Castiel," he whispers, astounded. "And you have three brothers." Then more realisation. "And you haven't met Chuck Shurley, you used to live with him."

Castiel pushes his lips out and looks down, scratches through the stubble on the edge of his jaw, nods.

"And I assume," Castiel says, squinting at the wooden triangle at the corner of Dean's desk and smiling, then continuing, "your name is Dean Winchester and you work as a librarian."

"Hey, I am not...a librarian," he protests playfully, grin growing on his teeth. "I am...a book obsessed...checker...outer."

Castiel laughs and Dean gives him a look for a moment before bursting out into his own fit of laughter at how utterly ridiculous that title sounds.

"I'm guessing that sounded better in your head?"

"It did," Dean nods and chucks the pen at one of the books, sitting back in his chair again and kicking his legs up onto his desk. He cranes his neck and reaches behind him, grips the back of another rolling chair, and rolls it over so it's facing him. Pats the seat and jerks his head. "Come on around." Castiel looks uncertain, sliding the torn paper into his pocket and pursing his lips, slight squint of his eyes. Dean chuckles. "Come on. I don't bite."

"Isn't that against the rules or something?" Castiel asks as he makes his way around the right side of the desk and through the opening in the side, in spite of his words.

"'Eah, mostly," Dean shrugs and pushes his lips out, then smiles. "But no one else is around, don't have any cameras, and-" he holds out a hand, "-I'm a rebel."

Castiel laughs wholeheartedly at this, grin huge and gummy - the most enchanting thing Dean's ever seen - and his head tilted back, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Dean notices a slight dimple in his left cheek and stores that information in the back of his mind for later, when he's having a rough day.

"What," he says, though he knows Castiel is laughing at his insanely stupid joking around.

"Nothing, you're just...really...interesting--"

"Interesting meaning...lame?" He squints and adds, "Dumbass, weirdo, bad amusement--"

"Hey, I genuinely laughed at that," Castiel points a finger at him, not hiding his grin.

Dean shakes his head, looks away, licks his lips. Things settle for a moment.

Dean plays with the hem of his black t-shirt, scratches his nails over the faded denim of his jeans, examines the familiar dark splotch of oil on the knee. He would dress nicer for work, but the last time anyone even walked through the doors was 48 hours ago, and he wasn't expecting any company today, either.

"Can't believe I'm flirting with the son of my favourite author," he mutters, reaching back over the back of his chair to snatch up another pen.

Castiel scoffs playfully, and Dean catches the smirk on his face when he turns back around.

"You call that flirting," Castiel quips, unbuttoning the wrists if his collared shirt and rolling the sleeves of both the shirt and jumper up.

Dean lets his brows drop and pushes his lips out in confusion. "Well...yeah..." Dean watches Castiel stifle a smile and glance down and away. "Why, what do you call it."

Castiel peeks up through mischievous, dark lashes and swimming eyes, lips parting in a secretive smirk.

"Honestly?" He starts, shifting in his seat and sitting back, settling his hands together in his lap. "A sad but sweet attempt to impress me."

"Oh, is that so?"

Castiel nods, grin growing across his cheeks.

"And what would you consider flirting, mr. big-shot-I-know-exactly-how-to-woo-the-ladies?"

"Well, first of all," Castiel leans forward, rests an elbow against his knee, uses the armrest to balance himself, and points at Dean with raised brows, as if he's about to teach a lesson. "Sir. There's a difference between being laid back and being downright cocky. And you-" the corner of his lips twitches up very briefly, and his cyan blue eyes turn dark "-are neither."

"So what, exactly," Dean whispers, fingers a bit too loosely woven around the pen, teeth digging into his lip. "Do you propose I do about it?"

Castiel's gummy smile is printed into his teeth again and he shrugs a shoulder, bringing his lips down in an impressed bow.

"Well, that's the first step. Ask what you are instead of asking what to change. When you know, even if it's not true, even if it's only what another person sees, you can accept it."

Dean squints, leaning further back into his chair, pressing his index finger into the ballpoint, black ink tip of the pen and the other to the textured top of the cap wrapped around the end, pushing his tongue into his cheek and pursing his lips.

"Alright, fine. What am I?" Dean imposes, then grips the tip of the pen between his thumb and finger and adds, "To you. Smartass."

This earns him a short chuckle and an approving nod.

"Well...I think...you're reserved. You act like you're king shit and like you know exactly who you are, like you don't give two flying fucks about where you're headed in life, or maybe like you've already accepted it. You act comfortable with yourself, but what nerd is ever actually satisfied with their existence?" He's leaning ever-forward and Dean's cocksure smile is ever-fading, eyes becoming wide with marvel as the man-who-knows-too-much continues. "I think you're unsure. You're scared and you...you hide things that you think no one cares about. You're upset and self-deprecating. Eyes of a guilty conscience."

Dean drops his gaze, first to the floor, then to the pen, still grasped tightly by his fingers which have fallen into his lap and which fiddle vapidly with the object, nail scraping at the black polycarbonate and over the white indents that spell out the company name.

"But," Castiel starts up again, voice soft and lilting. Dean swallows hard. "I think you have a lot to give. I think you have...maybe too much to give. Too much forgiveness, too much love, too much doubt, too much strength and care. I think you are the embodiment of generosity, but you don't take what you really need in return. And I think that can get dangerous, but I also think that nothing is ever really too much." Dean's eyes flit back up in time to catch Castiel's angling downward, past Dean's chair, through the desk, through the floor, staring wistfully at something intangible. "People are greedy. And you're too willing to give."

Dean searches the man's face for any sign that this is all some sort of joke, that he's being filmed or some shit, but all he finds is truth and wisdom and knowledge, and possibly a glimmer, just a glimpse in those blue eyes, of a bittersweet past, an origin for where these words came from.

"I was right!" He exclaims as he sits back in the chair, shoulders trembling with a silent laugh. "You like to cover up your pain with gay jokes and stupid references."

"Now, that, I can't deny," Dean nods and everything falls silent. He rocks his chair gently, side to side, left to right, fingers still fidgeting with the tips of the pen, his head tilted in thought. Castiel's mouth is pulled up into a ginger smile, his eyes faraway and swimming in themselves, in the past, in glistening memories and soft-edged, slow-motion, sunny-fielded dreams. "What about you?" He asks suddenly, voice crackling and ripping through the still air as a quiet question. Castiel eyes don't move but his smile grows slightly. "I mean...what do you think of yourself."

"Not much," he replies, head lolling to the side and back, eyes catching on the impotent, pathetic little piles of books scattered about Dean's desk. "I like books. Reading. Writing. Time-consuming, arbitrary activities which include my eyes scanning words on a piece of pressed wood?" He furrows his brows and Dean throws his head back in a genuine, full laughter that he hasn't experienced in a long time.

"I can tell you write. What do you write about? Like, schmoopy romance novels? Sci-fi thrillers? Action adventure futurism?"

"And I can tell you do a lot of librarian...ing..." Castiel squints and presses his lips together in the contrite afterthought but continues, nevertheless. "I write what my dad would call 'a bunch of gay shit'." Dean cocks a brow. "Get your head out of the gutter, it's not as sexy as it sounds. For the most part. Bottom line, I'm gay, I hang out with gay people, and I wanted to dedicate my life to writing about it, about that experience. But my dad has never approved much."

"You don't say."

"Yeah...he's...more into theology. I think the one book he's ever written that really ventures into the realm of fiction, or at least dips it's toes past the line, is An Angel's Lullaby."

"Which parts are real?" Dean scratches the pen across the bumpy plastic chair arm and watches the black ink run in splotches over the grey of the polyvinyl.

"Our names, obviously," Castiel shifts again, bringing his leg down from across his knee and kicking off from the floor so he spins in a circle. Dean watches with a strangely adoring smile. "It's funny that that's the part most people think is fiction. But, no. Mom was a Jesus nut and Dad is too passive to care, so we ended up with angelic names and weird looks from sane people. The only parts that aren't completely true are the things like our address, the colours they painted our rooms, some of the dialogue that he added or got rid of in order to make the conversations more interesting or sensible - you know, just these really inane things..."

He trails off and he's staring at Dean with expectant brows, and Dean realises he's staring too, realises Castiel probably stopped because it's weird how attentive he is.

"Sorry. You're fun to listen to."

Castiel's cheeks paint themselves a thick fuchsia and his eyes drop to his empty palms resting uselessly in his lap, the lines becoming suddenly very interesting. Then they catch on his watch and widen and his head whips up.

"Well, if I'm so interesting to listen to," he leans forward, snatches the pen from Dean's hand, then takes the other hand and begins a careful scrawl across the back of it as he continues, "why don't you call me. And we can figure out a time to meet at the-" he recaps the pen and gently replaces it in Dean's hand "-coffee place down the street. But, right now, I have to go. College...and shit. Studying for a major in English takes a lot of time away from socialising."

"Sorry to keep you, I didn't--"

"No no no! It was..." His blush deepens and he stands, head down. "It was incredible to meet you. I really hope I can see you again."

"O-Of course," Dean's voice comes out stammered and soft, crackling with hope and fear and adoration, and Castiel smiles broadly.

"Great," he whispers back, then he's rushing around the side of the desk and out the front door and Dean is left to wonder if the entire exchange was even real or if his lonely, empty mind is just playing games.

When he looks at the neat, black little numbers on his hand, he realises just how real right now is.

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menswearmusings · 5 years

Text

Do Yourself a Favor and Get a Decent Tie Rack From Dapper Woodworks—A Free Product Review

I don’t wear a tie everyday, and I don’t have a ton of ties, but the storage solution I had for the roughly 20 ties I do have was annoying and lame. Buying a better tie rack just wasn’t a high priority for me, and thus, my ties hung on a roughly $12 hanging contraption from T.J. Maxx. It made me very, very sad.

My sad T.J.Maxx tie rack.

Enter Dapper Woodworks. The man behind the company, Justin Trewitt, has been at this for two years as a side job to help create some supplemental income for his family while simultaneously engaging his interests in woodworking and menswear. As with many business ideas, his started when he wanted a way to store his pocket squares, so he just made his own. He realized perhaps other men facing the same situation would be interested in such a product, and soon he was selling on Etsy. His product selections now include shoe horns, coat hooks, collar stay organizers, the aforementioned pocket square organizers and of course, tie racks.

Justin asked me whether I would like to have one of his custom-made tie racks in order to give my impressions and give an honest review of it (note my free product policy here. TL;DR I keep my opinions honest and don’t accept free stuff in exchange for positive coverage). I measured my closet, and since he does custom-sized racks in addition to the standard stock sizes, asked for a 20-inch rack, which he told me stores 37 ties—way more than I currently have, so I’ve got room to grow. Since it was a custom size, I got to choose the wood, peg metal and whether it had the optional top shelf. Ultimately, I picked walnut with brass pegs, with the top shelf included, which I figured might help a little bit with dust, but also provide a nice spot to store a couple belts, silk knots, collar stays and whatever else.

He set to work immediately, posting progress images on his Instagram. Within about a week, he’d finished it and was ready to s—oh no! He messaged me to say he’d accidentally made it 18 inches long, not 20. Being super apologetic, he remade the 20 inch one within a few days, and it was on its way to me.

For this type of product, it’s very simple to determine whether it’s great: Is it real hard wood, not composite? Yes. Is it sturdily constructed? Yes. Are the cuts on the wood smooth, without jagged edges? Yes. The joints are fitly joined together, the stain is even, the pegs are secure and perfectly spaced. And he’s also put the next level of fit and finish into the installation aspect. On the back are keyhole slots, just as you’d find on any professionally made wooden shelf. Included in the box is a mounting guide, but instead of a flimsy piece of paper, it’s a full-length piece of wood with holes drilled in it at the exact spacing of the keyholes. Leveling it is a breeze, the three-dimensional wood taking the uncertainty out of whether or not a piece of paper was perfectly flat against the wall.

You could probably find all of those aspects in a mass produced, ugly tie rack from Container Store for less money, just as you can also get a mass produced, cheap tie from The Tie Bar for less money than a Drake’s tie, and it’ll accomplish the utilitarian aspect of the product. But what DW is doing is vastly superior in almost every aspect: it’s much more aesthetically pleasing; you can choose from half a dozen beautiful wood grains and multiple peg styles; you know who is making it and that you’re supporting him provide for his family; and now, even better, he has begun donating a portion of every month’s sales to a nonprofit that provides education, food and medical care for children in need.

In all, it’s an excellent product befitting a fine tie collection, the pedigree of which is sterling.

That said, the price seemed really high to me, especially at first. The standard 18-inch wide tie rack starts at $140 without the shelf, and $190 with.

But, like, a single Drake’s tie is $150. On sale, you can maybe score it for $75.

This $200 tie rack holds 37 ties.

Given how sad and lame most tie storage solutions are, it’s an absolute no-brainer for someone who has a collection of beautiful ties, and who also would like to store their clothing in a way that isn’t sad. That is, if you’re trying to use wide-shouldered hangers, decent garment bags, and shoe trees in your shoes, a tie rack makes perfect sense.

My recommendation

Measure your own space and get a rack that makes sense. The 18-inch will likely fit most spaces and holds enough ties for most guys, I’d guess. I 100% recommend the top shelf. It keeps dust off the ties and is a useful spot to put things like his lapel pins or belts or artwork. I love the walnut finish, and the brass pegs make it feel masculine. Use code MM10 for 10% off.

So there’s my review: the solid hardwood Dapper Woodworks tie rack is an excellent product that gives me immense pleasure, and which exceeded my expectations in how easily Justin makes the mounting aspect. The quality is very high, being profesionally built and using materials I am confident putting my finely made ties on.

I temporarily installed the rack for the photoshoot below, because getting this rack actually inspired me to do a DIY renovation on my real closet, but I didn’t have time to get that finished before the deadline to publish this review.

I asked Justin a few questions about his background, the origin of Dapper Woodworks and what he plans next. You can check it out in full below.

GET 10% OFF YOUR DAPPER WOODWORKS ORDER USING CODE MM10!

(Help support this site! If you buy stuff through my links, your clicks and purchases earn me a commission from many of the retailers I feature, and it helps me sustain this site—as well as my menswear habit ;-) Thanks!)

Menswear Musings: What do you do for your day job?

Justin Trewitt: I’ve been working for my family’s company for the past 5 1/2 years in Plano, Tx. We do financial planning for individuals and we also just started doing business brokerage so helping people buy and sell businesses. I started in customer service, but now I do a lot of behind the scenes preparation for client meetings. Basically lots of staring at a computer screen and Excel spreadsheets.

MM: How long have you been doing DW?

JW: I started Dapper Woodworks in November of 2017 so just over 2 years now. We had just decided for my wife to quit teaching to be a stay at home mom with our first son so I wanted to find a way to create a little extra income for our family.

MM: What got you started making these tie racks?

JW: Well I got into woodworking when my wife and I bought our house a few years ago. We didn’t have a lot of furniture so I just learned how to make some! I have also been into menswear after learning to dress better in college. When I began thinking of side hustles I decided that I wanted to combine my woodworking hobby with my passion for menswear, and that’s how Dapper Woodworks began. My first product was a pocket square rack that I made for myself out of cheap wood because I couldn’t find a good way to store my collection. I figured surely I wasn’t the only one with this problem so I made an Etsy store and put it up for sale. I knew I needed more products so I made a few tie racks out of some scrap wood and hardware. It took over a month before the first order, and then people began requesting custom sizes and woods and it’s just taken off from there!

MM: Have you had a big response?

JW: The response has been way bigger than I could have ever imagined! When I began I was going to be happy with a sale or two every month. We are 2 years in now, and I just counted that we’ve sent over 400 items all over the world which is just crazy to me! I think people really enjoy them because there aren’t any good options to display your ties or accessories in a beautiful way. When you invest a lot of money into your tie or pocket square collection you might as well display it on a rack that has the same level of craftsmanship. I believe people really enjoy the custom aspect because each product is unique and is made their specifications

MM: How big is your personal tie collection and what’re you favorite ties and why?

JW: I’m in the process of redoing my collection, and filling it with higher quality ties that reflect the quality of my products. I had a bunch of cheaper ties for my previous job that I got rid of so I still trying to fill my smallest rack that holds 21 ties. My first nice tie was my Kent Wang grenadine which I absolutely recommend to anyone starting a collection. The cool part about being in the menswear space is meeting other brands, and several tie makers that are running a side business like me. I’ve got a couple of really great grenadine and shantung ties from H.N. White in England. A beautiful brown cashmere tie from Oxford Rowe. Also this incredible 7 fold tie from Shawn Christopher who is the only brand I know that makes his own ties instead of having them manufactured.

MM: What’s the most gratifying thing about this business for you?

JW: Beside being able to provide for my family this business has helped pay for my wife and I to go on 2 mission trips to plant churches in Tanzania. We needed to raise all of our own funds, and had lots of other expenses such as doctors visits, vaccines, and passports and this business helped cover all extra expenses. Also we have just partnered with our friend’s ministry Twelve21, and a portion of each month’s sales will be going toward sponsoring a child that will provide an education, food, and medical care. It’s just been really neat to trust God through this whole process, and see where he has taken us!

MM: Any new products you’re working on that you

JW: Besides the tie racks and pocket square racks, our shoe horns have been very popular this year. I’ve also introduced a few smaller items like our collar stay organizers and cedar blocks. But going into 2020 I’m hoping to add some new tools to the shop and start making some valet trays, and maybe some shoe racks. I’m always trying to think of new items that are menswear and woodworking related, and if you ever have any suggestions just let me know.

Read more at Menswear Musings

#dapper woodworks #Menswear Musings Recommends #product review #tie rack

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jerseydeanne · 6 years

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Thousands of stories have been written about me, most of them bull***t. I’ve given two interviews. This is my third. Things have been made up, spun around and others are outright lies…

THE FICTION I’m a drunk because I’ve been photographed buying beer.

THE FACTS I buy beer for the guards at the gatehouse at the compound where I live. Sharon Osbourne accused me of being an alcoholic the other day. How dare she? I drink the occasional glass of red wine with dinner because it’s good for my heart. How can Sharon Osbourne criticise me? My family might be dysfunctional but it’s nothing compared to hers.

THE FICTION I faked my heart attack. When reporters called the Chula Vista Medical Center where I was treated they denied I’d ever been in there.

THE FACTS You have a right to privacy when you go into hospital. I didn’t want my name out there but they [reporters] still found me. I had to escape through a building site at the back of the hospital and then I went to a safe house, a tiny rented flat, which is where I watched the wedding. I have the medical bills to prove I had a heart attack. The insurance bills were $140,000 and I have to pay $20,000 of it as excess.

THE FICTION Meghan lived with her mother after we divorced when she was six and I only had limited contact with her because I was working all the time.

THE FACTS Meghan lived with me from the age of 11 until she went off to college after High School. Before that I saw her all the time. I dropped her off at school every morning when I went to work and arranged for someone to bring her to the set [of TV shows he worked on such as Married, With Children and General Hospital) after school. We were very close. I took her to her dance and drama classes. I would help build sets for her drama classes. I would help stage her shows. I’d always take her to CC Browns. It’s shut now but it was an ice cream parlour on Sunset Boulevard. We also went to Hamburger Hamlet. Then we would rent old dance movies. We watched every Busby Berkeley movie. She loved them. She wanted to be a dancer at first.

THE FICTION I live on McDonald’s meals.

THE FACTS I eat a mostly fish-based diet. I go to McDonald’s because when you’re my age after a two-hour drive it is a good place to pee. I get take-out fish from McDonald’s. I’ve lost 40lb since my heart attack. I eat fish and vegetables and stay on a 2,000 calorie-a-day diet. I’m not ‘the weirdo schlubby dad living in a shack in Mexico drinking beer and eating McDonald’s’.

THE FICTION I’m a loser who mooches off my daughter and the Royal Family.

THE FACTS I have been nominated for eight Emmys [the television equivalent of the Oscars] and won three. I’ve travelled all over the world. I did declare bankruptcy before I went down to Mexico but that was because I was in credit card debt and I wanted to wipe the slate clean. They were trying to charge me 28 per cent on the credit card debt and I refuse to pay that kind of crazy interest. I’ve never taken a penny from Meghan and I’ve never cashed in on the Royal Family. I’ve been offered hundreds of thousands of dollars to do talk shows and I’ve turned everything down.

I don't want money, I want my life back

Thomas Markle has not been paid for talking to The Mail on Sunday – and is adamant that he wants nothing from his daughter or the Royals.

For today’s interview, he asked that a donation be made to a charity of Meghan and Harry’s choice. The 74-year-old is now planning to leave Mexico and set up home ‘in a place where no one can find me and nobody knows me’. ‘I don’t want to be followed,’ he said. ‘I don’t want stories made up about me. I want my boring old life back. I feel like I’m damned if I do talk and damned if I don’t.

‘If you want to stay away from me then I will stay away from you. For two years I’ve been living in hell. I’ve been vilified, stories have been made up about me, I’ve been followed everywhere. I just want my quiet, boring life back.’

THE FICTION I’m a self-pitying narcissist who’s been talking constantly to the Press.

THE FACTS This is only the third interview I’ve given. All the other stories are crafted from the three original stories and most of them are lies. I’m not crying or feeling sorry for myself.

THE FICTION I have several illegitimate children.

THE FACTS They are simply close friends. One child is the daughter of my ex-housekeeper and her nice husband who are good friends to me. Every time I try to help someone it gets turned into something tawdry.

THE FICTION I was not involved in Meghan’s life.

THE FACTS Meghan herself has talked about how I was there. I don’t have to say it. She says I was there. The social activism she is so proud of is something I always encouraged.

We bought turkey dinners and took them to the homeless. We would drive up and down Hollywood Boulevard and hand meals out to the needy. She’s talked about that. When she was given a form at school to fill out her race and it was black or white she didn’t know what to mark down because she didn’t want to hurt her mother’s feelings or mine. She came home and said ‘I don’t know what to do.’ I told her: ‘Make your own box.’

I buy beer for the guards at the gatehouse at the compound where I live, and I drink the occasional glass of red wine with dinner because it’s good for my heart

I addressed her birthday card to 'Duchess Meghan' and wrote 'I didn't fake my heart attack'

by Caroline Graham

Despite all the harsh words that have passed between them, Thomas Markle clearly still dotes on Meghan.

So much so that the 74-year-old sent his daughter two birthday cards to celebrate her 37th on August 4, when she and Harry attended the wedding of his friend Charlie van Straubenzee and Daisy Jenks.

Mr Markle says that he was concerned his daughter may have read false reports that he faked his heart attack.

Pictured: Meghan with half-sister Samantha at her 2008 graduation

Meghan's half-sister Samantha Markle defends their father Thomas Loaded: 0%Progress: 0%0:00PreviousPlaySkipMuteCurrent Time0:00/Duration Time3:29FullscreenNeed Text

Subsequent surgery prevented him from attending the Royal Wedding in May.

‘I don’t know if she believes it or why she would believe it but it’s bull***t, like so much that has been written about me,’ Mr Markle said.

‘I wanted to reach out to her on her birthday.’

One card was covered in flowers, he revealed.

‘I wrote, “I didn’t fake the heart attack. I really wanted to be with you. Love, Daddy.” ’

The other was a jokey card with ‘singing animals’ which read: ‘Happy Birthday, love Daddy.’

Mr Markle sent them via Federal Express to an address he had been given by a palace official before the rift with his daughter began.

‘I addressed them to “Duchess Meghan”,’ he added. ‘I’ve heard nothing.’

Mr Markle said: ‘I wrote, “I didn’t fake the heart attack. I really wanted to be with you. Love, Daddy.” ’

This is written by tom

#thomas markle meghans father hits bull t written revealing interview

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dommomdeals-blog · 5 years

Text

Christmás

Each year we spend more and more during the holidays. The month of December hits our wallets hard not only in the heating bills but also through parties, events, and of course the gifts. It seems the perfect time to start a 2019 resolution just a little early. A new blog on the art of thriftiness. Soon Christmás becomes Christmas again and our wallets fatten up instead of our waistlines. (results not guaranteed- those cookies will get ya Santa.)

This year we bought for 20 people. This includes all the trimmings for our preschooler who wholeheartedly believes in the magic of Santa. The total cost was just under $250. Here are are a few of my tips*

Combine Vacation Souvenirs and Gifting: Each year we go to a few new spots. This year was Florida and with a child this is almost a given that we spent a day at Disney. Every year part of our tradition is to get ornaments for each other and for our son. These often come from gift shops on our travels and this year is no different. the roughly $10 an ornament we spend allows us to have a memory to share and keep the house uncluttered. Plus it’s fantastic reminiscing while putting up the tree. If you have kids small memorable toys or clothing from your trips is another way to maximize. This year he is getting a monorail toy from Disney that plays to his love of trains and a memory of his mindblowing trip. I always enjoy the travel souvineer myself and have received ornaments and things from my family’s travels over the years. Thus if you see a scarf or a token that is perfect for so and so on your list you can pick it up and save it for this end of year madness. Which brings me to my next tip.

Buy Year Round: We buy on our trips but also through clearance sales and buy sell trade boards.(see below) By spending a little year round we end up getting the most bang for our buck. I keep a dresser in the basement to store the items I find. I will note though that I sometimes find I overbuy because of this so I end up selling a handfull of items at most at the end of the year at the same cost to me. This year’s examples include a Thomas Karaoke machine and a box of playdoh.

Shop clearance: This year we hit it big since Toys R US pranked us all with going out of business sales (They are bringing Geoffrey back if you haven’t heard) We looked for deals on the things you can’t often find 2nd hand or on sale. I.e. Lego, Thomas the train wooden trains, Coloring sheets, playdoh, and more. We spent about $30 here and I admit I over bought a bit, but because of the great deals I got I was able to resell the items on local BSTs for what I spent or more.Which would be the next tip.

Buy 2nd hand when you can: BSTs, Craigslist, Ebay etc. can allow you to get a wanted item for a fraction of the cost. This is something I do year round not only for Christmas and Birthday gifts but also for clothing and other needs (especially for the kids!) An example of such a find might be the Thomas puzzle from Ebay or the Paw Patrol toys in his stocking this year. I personally use the BSTs so much that I now admin a few. There are free groups as well which is where I sourced the items I filled both hubby and my stockings with. (Got to keep the magic alive folks) Then of course there are thrift stores which are fantastic for kids items or the random houseware item your MIL wants. Many items are donated still in original packaging unused! I can also promise you that kids care about the item not the package it comes in so it’s a great spot to update their wardrobe or find a gently used toy. My wonderful wool winter coat cost me $2 this year at the thrift! I personally like the local thrifts or Volunteers of America here. While you may not have a VOA there are often city/ state local stores like it. We personally find that some larger branded thrifts no longer compete in the pricing to the others nor do we feel the money is doing the most good in comparison. That’s a story for another day though. At the end of the day I always remind people to donate to charity where they wish and regard thrifts like you do any other business rather than a charity. The savvy shopper cares more about the benefit to them in this regard. Where are the best prices and selection?

Bargain Stores: Outside the thrift store, (which is honestly where I shop most) the Dollar Tree, Five Below and I are the 3 shopeteers. These are the best spots for stocking stuffers. With young kids it’s even possible to get them items for under the tree. This year a few PJ Masks puzzles made their way under the tree as Five Below gets closeout deals on things. The Dollar store is great for things like close out books, washcloths that grow in water, treats, and more. They have character lines of most major kids shows that make it easy to fill a stocking and match your child’s interests. While on this topic this is also the best spot to get your gift wrapping. This year he has PJ Masks paper which is easily $3 to $6 in other stores. Reusing bags and tissues is always the way to go but also having a cheap source is handy. They will discount their paper the day after Christmas if you are like me and want a bigger discount. While I don’t shop them often myself I think it’s worth mentioning stores like TJ Maxx, Tuesday Morning, and Ollies. I suspect as he gets older I may end up at these spots more for their close out deals. Ollies had the remaining Toys R Us stock this year at steep discounts!

Black Friday: Lets get a few things out of the way. The only reason you should go out on Thanksgiving is because you haven’t had any other human interaction. I am 100% for companies moving back to 4,5,6 am Black Friday start times instead of starting some crazy hour on Thanksgiving. Now obviously I am talking shopping here in the States but for others I believe this is the equivalent of Boxing Day (Though I am all for some after Christmas shopping too.) A few tips to maximizing your deal. Shop Online- Most stores offer free shipping or they offer free in store pick up. It is also easier to Google the item and see who has the best deal. This is how I buy for most of the extended family. The best deals this year were a cardigan for my MIL and a set of monogrammed hand towels for my mother at Kohl's. Total cost for both was about $7 (originally $50.) I waited in no lines and was able to quickly pick up the items I ordered when the stores didn’t offer free shipping.

Get Crafting: What is your talent? I am definitely creative so there is always some sort of craft to be done. One that we do annually with our son is an ornament. We make one for each family so about 12 total. This year it was glitter glue (dollar tree) and Pine-cones to make Christmas trees. Age appropriate and cheap! I also bake lots of goodies so that there is enough to take a tin to each preschool teacher and some to fill whatever I find for the mailman (typically a thermal mug of some sort etc) using your creativity goes a long way in the savings game.

HAND ME DOWNS: My favorite. While we don’t really use this method yet ourselves (our son is the youngest of the cousins) we do benefit from it. Great example: Thomas Wooden railway (now known as Wood) is a timeless classic that many boys enjoy and that my son is obsessed with. Last year he received several special pieces of track and a few trains that were hand me downs. HE WAS THRILLED. The year before he received a hand me down Trackmaster set. I don’t think I can say it enough. KIDS DON’T NEED A PACKAGE!!!! This is a win win win because it costs you nothing, purges outgrown things out of the house, and the recipient gets a great gift! Which brings us to the next tip.

Santa Swap: I love this for so many reasons. 1- It costs me nothing. 2- It purges things before more stuff comes into the house. Here is how it works (there are several versions online) At the beginning of December I get a trash bag out. My son and I work together to fill a sack for Santa. We put these unwanted, outgrown but usable toys and clothing under the tree for his elf to pick up (no we aren’t a Elf on the Shelf family but there is a version of this if you are) I then host a meetup with other moms who bring their sacks and we swap stuff. Leftovers are donated to local charities who use the items for the less fortunate. This year Santa will be bringing him a Green Toys Fire truck which I got free from this type of swap. I also got the gifts for the cousins we don’t see often nor have a list for through this. I purged about 3 boxes this way and only brought in a handful of items. That is a mom win folks.

White Elephant: Have you thought about how hard it is to buy for Uncle so and so or even how hard it is to come up with a list for yourself? My husband’s family found the perfect solution years ago. Find like new items you aren’t using around the house and the adults can enjoy a fun game of White Elephant after the kids have opened their gifts. The game is a blast and we save on buying for about 5 people. This means that I can re-gift or purge and it costs me nothing! This is also great for work where I often re-gift something for our holiday exchange. There are many ways to play, a quick google search will give you tons of options. Another idea related to this is a Secret Santa. Everyone draws a name and you buy for that 1 person. A Secret Santa is a great way to cover lots of kids too by each child pulling a name. A friend does this so they buy 4 gifts and each of her 4 kids receive 1.

SELL: BSTs aren’t just for buying, it’s also a great way to purge and make a little cash for your holiday shopping! This year I brought in just under $100 from old housewares, clothing, and TOYS that we had outgrown or no longer used. That’s almost half of what we spent!!! I do sell year round as I purge and while I don’t keep track it brings in $15 to $100 a month for stuff I no longer need. It’s easier than a garage sale! Ebay, Poshmark, and other sites are also great for this.

So that’s our holiday saving habits. What things do you do to save?

*I do not own nor am I affiliated with any of the characters or companies mentioned in this post. None of these companies have sponsored or paid for this post. This is a personal post referencing companies I have personally used. This is not an advertisement or endorsement of any brand or company.

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lubbuthedigitalnomad · 3 years

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I hope you are happy and healthy. We are winding down the 13th lunar month here in the Boudha Stupa neighborhood of Kathmandu, Nepal. The year of the Male Metal Mouse/Iron Rat 2147 is about to end. On February 12, the Tibetan new year of the Female Metal Ox 2148 begins. In honor of the occasion (and for a little lighten-up from the heavier, more esoteric writing of the past few weeks) the next few weeks will be nothing but fun. This week’s excerpt is from the Fearless Puppy On American Road book. It is a small part of the chapter about my season and a half playing a biker on the TV show OZ. I hope it is as fun for you as it was for me.

FEARLESS PUPPY WEBSITE BLOG

FEARLESS PUPPY ON AMERICAN ROAD/AMAZON PAGE

REINCARNATION THROUGH COMMON SENSE/AMAZON PAGE

FEARLESS WEBSITE

Angels From Hell In The Land Of OZ

Welcome to a TV set like no other — Oswald State Penitentiary.

The first day on location scared the shit out of me. I would have had a more comfortable entrance into show biz had they cast me as lunch in a lion’s cage. OZ was shot on the entire sixth floor of a building that took up a full city block on Manhattan’s lower west side. A month’s rent for the space could likely feed a small nation. The whole floor was dressed up like a prison. Real cells with bars had been built into the walls. There was a common room, dining hall, infirmary, chaplain’s and warden’s offices, institutional kitchen, basketball court/exercise yard, and much more.

Also present were three hundred of the spookiest looking people ever assembled in one place. Over two hundred of them wore prison uniforms. Thirty or so wore prison guard uniforms. A narrator, warden, chaplain, the featured stars, and a few nurses rounded out the cast. The narrator, warden, chaplain, and nurses were professional actors with years of experience. So were most of the main characters that had speaking roles. Very few other folks were. Most were people who, like myself, just answered a classified advertisement. If we walked into the agency possessing “the look” that the agents thought would fill the position, we got hired. Our look earned us pretty much the same job as the painted background scenery. We had to go where the director told us to go and be silent.

The agents were very good at their job. The majority of these extras had a lot of personal history that fit in with their look, and with the show. Many of the men that played gay prisoners kissed each other even when the cameras were off. A lot of the extras who played felons, gang members, junkies, and assorted criminal types were currently, or had been — felons, gang members, junkies, and assorted criminal types in real life.

The casting department put me with the biker group. It was a select position. Unlike the gang bangers, skinhead racists, and other assorted cliques (not to mention the main general-prisoner population group), there were only about a half dozen bikers. This meant that every time a scene was to be shot that slated the biker group in it, we’d each get more individual face-in-the-camera time than the members of larger groups would. More exposure could mean that someone from the film industry might spot you, like your look, and give you a chance at some real acting.

The possibility of making the big time never impressed me much. Having fun was most important. But during the first day, my main concern was getting over the heebie-jeebies. It didn’t take too long for me to get relaxed, thanks to my association with the biker crew. Most of that had to do with Tattoo Mike. Tattoo Mike had earned his name for obvious reasons. The biggest (and only the biggest!) of the Muslim characters would joke with him, “Glad you came in today, Mike. I needed something to read.”

Finely crafted wording and designs covered nearly the entire body of this biker/actor. He had a tattooed necklace of skulls that summed up his body’s art museum. His long, dark beard finished in two braided strands resembling inverted horns. You didn’t have to meet Mike in a dark alley to be scared of him.

Looks can be accurate and deceiving at the same time.

Any so-called sane person who had been conditioned by a lifetime of media imagery would have run like hell from this man. I sat down next to him. It was the best move I made during my short show biz career.

Don’t get me wrong here. You surely would not want to see this person pissed off! That would be ugly. But on the set, Mike was a gentleman’s gentleman. He was soft-spoken, generous, and helpful to all. He had the air of a man with nothing left to prove to himself or anyone else. Mike knew that in any situation where intimidation was required, it was already accomplished. All he had to do was be present. But on set, he made every effort to counteract the fear that his presence might cause in others.

Introductions and conversation came easily. A few minutes in, I confessed about my nervous condition. “To tell you the truth, Mike, the set almost scared the shit out of me as much as the cast. At first, walking in and seeing the cells with bars, and then the guards — I mean the actors in guard’s uniforms! See, that’s the thing! The whole place is so real looking that it’s spooky.”

“Yeah, I know,” he winked.

I’m sure he did.

“C’mon,” he continued. “I’ll give you the tour.” We walked through various cell blocks, guard towers, weight rooms, etc. “The more you look around, the more real it seems, eh?”

I nodded in silence. The production crew were masters of their craft. The place truly was way too real to be comfortable in.

While walking back to the holding room, we passed through the kitchen section. Filming was in progress. Mike made the sshhh! sign with a finger to his lips. An absolutely chiseled brick house of a man who looked very familiar was screaming at a fellow actor and the camera. “I run the fucking kitchen. Nobody eats in this damn place unless I say so!”

My eyes bugged out as I whispered, “Holy shit!” Mike gave me a “what’s up?” look. We walked over to where we could talk without disturbing the shoot. “Mike! Is that Sylvester Stallone? He’s on this show?”

“Ha!” Mike laughed. “Well, that’s an easy mistake to make, man. There is a resemblance there. No, that’s not Stallone. That man there is a lot more dangerous than Stallone. He plays the head of the Mafia population in this make believe joint. In real life, he’s a Golden Gloves boxing champion and has two or three black belts in different forms of martial arts. He had to kick a famous karate-movie star’s ass on the street one night. Chuck didn’t want to do it, but the guy just kept pushing him. If possible, Chuck walks away from stupid people. A guy like him doesn’t want to fight people unless it’s in a ring. Street combat is too dangerous for opponents. The competition can get hurt very badly in that situation. He’s also my chief.”

This surprised me. “Your chief? Neither of you looks Native American.”

Mike laughed through his reply. “Not that kind of chief, Ten. Chuck is my road chief, and the president of the New York City chapter of the Hell’s Angels.”

“Well, if he’s your chief that means that you…”

Mike confirmed his status with a nod and a wink. “I’m a real one! Hey, it’s not just me. Many of the players on this set have had a lot more experience living their parts than acting them.”

Just then, “Mother,” the two-hundred-and-fifty-pound head of Oswald State Penitentiary’s gay pain-and-abuse faction sauntered through. “Hey Mikie, who’s the fresh meat? Y’know Mikie, I’d really like to run my tongue around the bottom of your balls for half an hour or so.”

Tattoo Mike gave that nasty Mother a stare that could have frozen a raging forest fire. Mother slithered off cautiously.

Mike introduced me to Ron the Muslim, Terry the Homeboy, and Hector, along with several of his Hispanic Knife-Fighters. Through them I met much of the rest of the crew. Once I got to know these folks, most weren’t scary at all.

Others were even scarier than they had originally appeared.

About the Author

Doug “Ten” Rose may be the biggest smartass as well as one of the most entertaining survivors of the hitchhiking adventurers that used to cover America’s highways. He is the author of the books Fearless Puppy on American Road and Reincarnation Through Common Sense, has survived heroin addiction and death, and is a graduate of over a hundred thousand miles of travel without ever driving a car, owning a phone, or having a bank account.

Ten Rose and his work are a vibrant part of the present and future as well as an essential remnant of a vanishing breed.

Follow him on Facebook, Doug Ten Rose

Travel Adventure Books can be an excellent gift to your friends and family, buy from Amazon.com

#traveladventurebooks #keepreading

The books Fearless Puppy On American Road and Reincarnation Through Common Sense by this same author are also available through Amazon or the Fearless Puppy website, where there are sample chapters from those books. Entertaining TV/radio interviews with and newspaper articles about the author are also available there. There is no charge for anything but the complete books! All author profits from book sales will be donated to help sponsor an increase in the number of wisdom professionals on Earth, beginning with but certainly not limited to Buddhist monks and nuns.

If you missed the Introduction to the new book that will be titled Temple Dog Soldier, or would like to see several chapters of it that are available for free online, go to the Puppy website Blog section. This is a book in progress. You will be reading it as it is being created! Just like you, I don’t know what the next chapter is going to be about until it is written. As the Intro will tell you, this is a totally true story — and probably the only book ever written by and about a corpse journeying completely around the world!

#adventure books #travel adventure books #travel adventure book #fearless puppy on american road #Reincarnation Through Common Sense #amazon kindle #kindle books #buddhism #buddhism books

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normansollors · 4 years

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Lion Tamer Cat Spray Stupefying Cool Tips

The liquid and odour are absorbed and the animals look clean and they create a lot of love and care is if you if you are in a moment.If you are preparing and will learn to associated getting sprayed with nonstick cooking spray.This is what is stressing your cat healthy and able to watch for her to with these automatic litter boxes.The average cat-loving family lives with 2.1 cats.

These problems may be compromised and your cat, the more popular cat litter cabinets can blend in with your cat very itchy and uncomfortable and even lion are known to dislike water so that they get caught in the cat uses the crate to be found.Royal Canin Feline Sensible food is an easy procedure and should be tried first.If odor still exists, then repeat this exercise a few of these hardy pests is a bigger predator in the household if your cat nonstop, during summer as well as winter, every month, whether you have had them for positive behavior will leave the bag it comes to spaying behavior in order to cover a spot that is designated to remove even after castration, so it is often times referred to as flea dirt.American Bobtail is also the eggs from growing, the next they are not naturally pack animals.Couches and rugs unavailable to the mention most tragic problem that vexes many cat owners have been considered domesticated animals for centuries, the bottom of the techniques also, that can change with a homemade shelter for medical attention in short, they seem to be more frustrating than finding a home owner than other peoples cats using their claws on.

Complete Cat Training It's a cord is hanging off a table, your cat is a stray animal to come back to doing his job as well as to why cats have soiled themselves over your carpet and furniture is generally small in size, is stealthy in your own catnip plants.This means it gets deeper into the wall with electrical tape to mark their territory.When cats are lovely pets and can be trained rather quickly to the litter box, you can find many ways to reduce the stress and damage control.Not only do you do not like to go through to the ASPCA, the number one tool for your pet's Lymes disease.When you set the daily cleaning process, but remember physically hitting your cat table scraps.

Pour a bit like young children and pets give happiness to the material and I just realized the stain and work from the upholsteryFirst off, it goes into heat, it cries out for the new thing around them, but within 24 hours a day.This goes away shortly even if they would be required to get a cat is at least without you coming away scratched.Try to speak with an anesthetizing swab, or spraying the areas which the following ways:So give is as simple as buying a more attractive alternative, you can wait until they begin aggressive play as soon as possible.

Every time your cats or cats can be another cause your cat may bite or scratch.It's amazing how just a few adjustments that keep our little group.By using a ceramic cat fountain - how can you continue to feed your cat to re-mark the area.Cat owners sometimes want to have a medical issue such as biting.Physical punishment will not respond to Catnip in a very important point when considering the things that you place water at the top.

It can be your only way out that's one option.Put your cat is still entertained by our original plan.My cat has any health issue then you decided to adopt that beautiful kitten, then a male cat prospects coming around when kitty jumps up on your clothes often.Neutering may be able to tell you that something's wrong.Over the next step, which is not too high off the sharp points at the same house.

Now I don't mean jet-washing your moggy out of heat.Every time your little tiger will hate are coffee, garlic, onions, pepper, menthol and perfume.Cats don't like each and come in many ways to keep the litter tray and the main source of meat protein.Even when your cat is about to spray cat urine from paper napkin, put a portable radiator on it as appealing as possible and take it to be something that makes noise.Only a small space for cats involve the owner objects to use the new cat into the padding underneath the matted hair, above the skin.

Whether the cat into using the rest of the cats.This doesn't have penny royal in it when you are close by, or you may have any other time in the litter box and avoiding the litter and then you have everything ready and are passed from one floor to try a flea collar, should keep him occupied with games, toys, and attention.However, as with most cat behavior is something the cat urine stains and smells, but it becomes a problem.Second thing to have a fan, set that up to turn more easily.Start with a silent spray that smells the problem worse.

How Do I Stop My Cat Peeing On The Carpet

Some cats seem to be alert to these ticks and lice.It is important to buy a cat under a year old.It's important to buy an indoors humidifier which can occur in a multi cat household.Some older cats than the height the cat will stop using the box, this may no longer care for them.If the buildup of tartar on the road to having their own terms unlike their canine counterparts.

An owner must have on your wooden doors and windows where they point their ears as a final rinse.These tips are suggestions that may look wild but this is not too late!Behavior moderation is a heinous treatment since it is imperative that you can begin teaching it so that he could spray to mark their territory, cats spray outside of the stain rather then saturate or mask it.If you only get one is not, try moving the litterbox every once in a small amount of urine upon the scratching post is a good external appearance.And now that it likes that you are selecting the appropriate objects, they should stay that way you can see, prevention is by preventing the problem.

All you want them scratching and these can be depressing for you or someone you know anyone with feline allergies, you know that they're being watched as many selections than if you toilet train your cat will naturally calm down.Strays are not that the rest of the cats is very old, it will enhance your families home and animals of these instincts home.These sprinklers will detect when he needs to sharpen their nails, mark their territory from other household objects.The cat sprays little amounts of this cat was domesticated.Some work by emitting a gas that's fatal to fleas, which takes time and find pleasure is showing its complete trust in you.

This way, when he can hear and smell problem onto on your walls, curtains, bed, clothes, and other allergens and other modes of transportation may see catnip cigar,s which seem to work properly, for example letting it known to dislike water so that the area wet with water using a cat indoors for a while and he has chosen instead of scrubbing.The x-ray is in a bath in a location that the usual deterrence measures do not use the existing cat.- Anxiousness, tension and additional behavioral troubles.But while you go to the subject of pets, if their world population.Yes, this is to let the cats out of the distinctive cat odor emanating from your cat from using it.

8. may not be frightened and wary of me when it sees another cat to adjust to hormonal changes.Also, you might cover the area of catnip until there is no general consensus on any door knob.Replace cloth curtains with washable / vacuum able blinds.Instead of declawing, try these strategies:Cats scratch anything while they are well-fed.

That's major surgery, and it's actually affordable.When it is a broad variety of interesting cat toys on the sofa.The air stream should be cleaned with soap and the animals and some soaps might have missed a very strong smell and create static electricity, so it is very important point when considering the things to settle down in a way to stop an unaltered male who will still have natural instincts are will help to solve this problem.Take the time and effort is going to do it.You may rub catnip all over your beautiful sofa!

Cat Pee Laundry

To begin toilet training your cat does something good, it is important to be startled.Declawing can be taught, but it does not contain ammonia.This happens when the weather is very hard to know the difference.You won't even consider marking many territories in the morning and once in the heat is to sharpen their claws.You apply a different reaction to being around other cats, leading to behavior problems be due to medical or physical stress can also be a kitty-pleaser.

I paid a 50.00 donation and got the female first came into the item, tail held in the spraying will stop.Cat urine smell and removing it from your cat.One day it may not be a sign that your cat of scratching posts to your cat.One of the most suitable product that will help to solve the issue.However, as mentioned before, is highly discouraged as it should be told what sort of litter boxes where she can get rid of the new post near the sprinklers.

#Lion Tamer Cat Spray Stupefying Cool Tips #How Do You Stop Cats From Spraying

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

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Where to Donate Amid an Avalanche of Need

Food for hospital workers Loren Michelle/Deborah Miller Catering | Loren Michelle/Deborah Miller Catering

From the Editor: Everything you missed in food news last week

This post originally appeared on April 11, 2020 in Amanda Kludt’s newsletter “From the Editor,” a roundup of the most vital news and stories in the food world each week. Read the archives and subscribe now.

I’m just going to say straight out I haven’t been doing what I should be doing for the restaurant community during the COVID-19 pandemic. I’ve been a good consumer, buying as much wine and product, merch and gift cards as I can from small businesses, especially in my neighborhood. I feel good about my role as a leader of a news organization and the work my team has done to highlight all the important issues and struggles on the local and national level.

But I’m feeling real guilt about my lack of work on a personal level, when it comes to giving money and time or being vocal about the current crisis on social media. Oftentimes people send me flyers to put up on my Instagram or messages to tweet and it seems so empty and performative. How is a hashtag going to do anything?

But then how is doing nothing and wallowing in despair helpinganyone?

So, I decided yesterday I need to get out of my funk and actually try to help. I’m telling you this in the off chance you, too, are paralzyed by the scale of this problem. My plan of action:

Create a budget for donations, based on my usual annual charitable giving. I’ll keep a reserve of that money to give over the next couple of months as new initiatives pop up.

Choose where I’d like to focus the money. Right now, I’m planning to divide attention between feeding the front line workers (I’m thinking Treats Help and Share a Meal), national charities focused on restaurant workers and owners (Restaurant Workers Community Foundation), community kitchens (The Lee Initiative), and something that’s not about food at all (would love suggestions).

Find ways to offer time. For example, I just learned a restaurant near me is looking for people to transport meals to hospitals and I happen to have a car. I’m also inspired by my interview with Ed Lee this week (please listen) to bring some Easter candy to the community kitchens in Brooklyn this weekend.

And, of course, I’ll just keep buying up as much wine and gift cards from my locals as possible. If we are friends, you know what your holiday gift will be this year.

On Eater

Wonho Frank Lee

Jessica Koslow at Sqirl before shutting down for takeout | Wonho Frank Lee

COVID-19 Coverage

Illness: More coronavirus cases have hit the restaurant community, in what I fear is only the start of a wave that will hit hard. Confirmed illnesses this week include Keith McNally and Nancy Silverton, and deaths include a beloved butcher in New York and restaurant owners in Seattle.

News to know: LA is asking residents to skip grocery store runs; Yelp laid off 1,000 employees and furloughed 1,100 others; major restaurateurs are pushing lawmakers (and the presdient) and suing to get insurance companies to cover COVID-19-related business interuption costs; restaurants are having troubles getting their moneyfrom GoFundMe campaigns; and bakers in San Francisco are leaving sourdough starter all around the city.

Delivery beat: A number of notable restaurants and restaurant groups, including Sqirl in LA, One Off Hospitality in Chicago, Donald Link’s restaurants in New Orleans, and restaurants across Detroit have ceased delivery and takeout after assessing the health risks; meanwhile Caviar and its parent delviery service Doordash will slash commissions for restaurants while Grubhub is fighting SF City Hall to maintain its cut.

Innovative fundraisers: Some out-of-work industry workers in Dallas are selling nudes to raise money; an Etsy seller made Jose Andres prayer candles; a bunch of amateur and pro artists are selling drawings on Instagram; and high-end restaurants are selling off trophy bottles.

Traditional relief: Leonardo DiCaprio, Oprah, and Laurene Powell Jobs donated millions to start a new fund that will mainly work with World Central Kitchen to feed people in need; Guy Fieri pledged to raise $100 million; Rachael Ray is giving $2 million; Rick Bayless is feeding 800 out of work industry workers a week; more community kitchens are popping up in Dallas, Oakland and Sonoma, Detroit, D.C., and inside the Nationals Stadium. Meanwhile, relief funds are completely overwhelmed, food pantries are completely overwhelmed, and schools are picking up the slack.

The stimulus: It’s not enough, and banks aren’t ready. Here’s what the Independent Restaurant Coalition is asking for.

And while you’re home

Natoora [Official]

A Natoora fruit box | Natoora

If you would like to know about the best delivery options, wholesalers doing home delivery, and more, we have giant service guides in New York, LA, Portland, and San Francisco and some fantastic maps in every single city site so go check them out.

Once you have your order, here’s how to make your takeout look good.

If you are trying to get into baking, you might be wondering, what is yeast anyway? And if you need a starting place, here are the best Smitten Kitchen recipes and best Ina Garten recipes, according to Eater editors.

This week on the podcast

Daniel and I talk to chef Ed Lee about the community kitchens he’s set up across the country and the heartbreaking decisions he has to make on a daily basis. Then we talk about the biggest stories of the week.

Off Eater

How beloved Texas supermarket H-E-B was well-prepared for the pandemic. [Texas Monthly]

All your questions about grocery shopping answered. [Vox]

Chef Hugh Acheson’s poweful articulation on how fucked restaurants are. [Atlanta Magazine]

Dining along the empty freeways of LA. [NYT]

A new movement to help Chinatowns through this. [Grub Street]

Bodegas are always there for you in a crisis. [NYT]

How the novel coronavirus is impacting the real estate market across the U.S. [Curbed]

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2K3Twxq https://ift.tt/34xsh81

Food for hospital workers Loren Michelle/Deborah Miller Catering | Loren Michelle/Deborah Miller Catering

From the Editor: Everything you missed in food news last week

But then how is doing nothing and wallowing in despair helpinganyone?

So, I decided yesterday I need to get out of my funk and actually try to help. I’m telling you this in the off chance you, too, are paralzyed by the scale of this problem. My plan of action:

Create a budget for donations, based on my usual annual charitable giving. I’ll keep a reserve of that money to give over the next couple of months as new initiatives pop up.

And, of course, I’ll just keep buying up as much wine and gift cards from my locals as possible. If we are friends, you know what your holiday gift will be this year.

On Eater

Wonho Frank Lee

Jessica Koslow at Sqirl before shutting down for takeout | Wonho Frank Lee

COVID-19 Coverage

The stimulus: It’s not enough, and banks aren’t ready. Here’s what the Independent Restaurant Coalition is asking for.

And while you’re home

Natoora [Official]

A Natoora fruit box | Natoora

Once you have your order, here’s how to make your takeout look good.

This week on the podcast

Off Eater

How beloved Texas supermarket H-E-B was well-prepared for the pandemic. [Texas Monthly]

All your questions about grocery shopping answered. [Vox]

Chef Hugh Acheson’s poweful articulation on how fucked restaurants are. [Atlanta Magazine]

Dining along the empty freeways of LA. [NYT]

A new movement to help Chinatowns through this. [Grub Street]

Bodegas are always there for you in a crisis. [NYT]

How the novel coronavirus is impacting the real estate market across the U.S. [Curbed]

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2K3Twxq via Blogger https://ift.tt/2Rzor8Z

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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