#said stuff including: big drinking jar of wine

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

I have done prettier altars before, but this year's distinguishing feature is how maximalist the set up is and how I am literally running out of space on the mantle to put his stuff.

[marbleheavy]

here are some of my Nico headcanons that nobody asked for!!

He collects things. Not just Mythomagic stuff like he did as a kid, but cool shells, and rocks, and weird glass figurines that everyone else thinks are terrifying, and books. He’s got them in jars or lined up on shelves and he just has so many things (Because for so long he had so few things that actually belonged to him that didn’t have to serve a very clear purpose, so now he just wants to keep whatever he’d like)

He reads SO much as an adult. A lot of it is nonfiction because he’s trying to catch up on what happened in the world while he was pulled out of it, but a lot of fiction too (not really fantasy though, that’s too close to home) and a lot of poetry. He can recite poems from memory and will just randomly quote them sometimes and it should be pretentious but it isn’t and his friends think it’s amazing (cue dramatically saying "till love and fame to nothingness do sink" anytime he's told he has to wait) (Also, he will rant about why Ted Hughes sucks at any point in time)

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again!! He is a Dungeon Master! He’s got a binder for all the notes for his current campaign and a notebook for ideas and special highlighters and pens that he only uses for D&D. Also, dice are definitely one of the things he collects and he keeps them in those clear, plastic bead containers with dividers and they’re sorted by number of faces and also ~vibes~ (for example, do a backflip D20 and life or death D20)

leather jacket Nico di Angelo? seen, respected, and appreciated. CARDIGAN Nico di Angelo? underrated! He has a couple oversized cardigans with buttons and big pockets that he adores. The first one he ever had he definitely stole from Will but now, whenever he comes across another similar one, he buys it. The pockets are filled with rocks and worn, mass-market paperbacks and pens. (Basically, I’m leaning hard into English Major Nico with his annotated books and glasses and cardigans) (Also, cardigan Nico and flannel Will but sometimes they swap)

He definitely cuts his own hair in the bathroom and he's gotten very good at it. He's had a range of haircuts, from long hair to a mullet to the shaved sides and fluffy top, but he always ends up back with a shaggy mop that Hazel likes to put little braids in (or sometimes pull the very back of it into two little pigtails) and with bangs that always end up in his eyes.

Sorry to reiterate the same point that's been made forever, but his wardrobe is pretty dark-toned. Obviously black, but he does like a good jewel tone, perhaps a maroon or an emerald. Anything really bright was either a gift or belongs to Will someone else. Also, gendered clothing means nothing to him. He wears what he wants to wear and he thinks it's cool as hell when he's wearing a skirt while sparring and it flares out dramatically as he twirls.

He's kind of picked up modern slang but he also uses a lot of slang from pretty much every decade he missed. It's also a 50/50 chance he's using it incorrectly. (examples include: 1) Leo says something that is definitely supposed to be funny and Nico stares at him, utterly emotionless, and says "Gag me with a spoon" in an alarmingly monotone voice, and 2) Anytime he says something snarky to Jason or Percy he starts it with "hey bestie..." and honestly, they're both just touched Nico called them "bestie" at all)

He adores Studio Ghibli movies and can be found humming the Ponyo theme song anytime he goes swimming (Will standing on the shore, looking around for Nico and he eventually spots him in the water. He wades out to Nico, all sunglasses that shouldn't look so cool and golden hair and chest, and just greets him with "Hey there, Neeks, how's my fishie in the sea?" and Nico can't decide if he wants to drown himself or kiss Will on his stupid mouth)

Speaking of movies, shortly after the Giant War, all of his friends (the Seven, Reyna, Will, probably Lou Ellen and Cecil, too) showed up at his cabin with blankets and snacks. They each brought their favorite movie or movies they think he needs to see to catch him up on the modern age. At first, he acts disgruntled that they're all there but he very quickly settles into the blanket fort Annabeth constructs and is quietly very grateful and excited that they cared enough to do this for him. They're all holed up in his cabin for a full day until they've finished every movie. (Percy brought Finding Nemo, Annabeth brought Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, Piper brought Scott Pilgrim vs The World, Jason brought Captain America: The First Avenger (and Nico definitely says "that's gay" when Steve and Bucky say there "Until the end of the line" shit and everybody absolutely loses their minds), Hazel also is behind on movies but she brought either a very scary movie or Moana, Frank brought A New Hope (though he considered Brother Bear), Will brought Spirited Away, Cecil brought Back to the Future, and Lou Ellen brought The Princess Bride)

He can play the piano! He gets a piano for the Hades cabin and on nights where he can't sleep and the nightmares are really bad, he plays piano.

He will cry if he hears I Will by Mitski or Wasteland, Baby by Hozier, for different reasons but also kind of not (he wants to be loved)

Also, Nico and Dionysus being buddies! Nico jokingly says he'll host a bacchanal if Dionysus excuses him from certain camp activities and that's how Nico and friends end up wearing togas around a campfire, all very hesitantly holding cups of wine they aren't actually going to drink. It is definitely not a bacchanal, it's just a bad toga party (barely) but Dionysus accepts it and decides Nico is a Good One.

(Yes I did very badly make this stupid meme that somebody has definitely made a variation of before)

This is definitely not a complete list of headcanons but it's what I've got so far!

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Mobster!Steve Rogers - Pt. II

PART 1 

(Or you’ll be super confused.)

Y/N got lost in the painting before her. There was a tall flute of champagne in her grasp, but she had been getting so engrossed in the artwork that she kept forgetting she even had it.

It was Thursday night after work. Almost all of the galleries in New York would have open receptions that included free wine and hors d’oeurves. Y/N had a bad day at work, and decided to treat herself and try to calm down with art and alcohol.

Her eyes glanced around the gallery as she moved on to another painting. This gallery was definitely swankier than the others in the area. Y/N even had to stop her jaw from dropping when she overheard a potential buyer ask for a price and the curator gave a number in the thousands, as if it was no big deal. Well, Y/N guessed it wasn’t a big deal to the rich.

“Hi,” a voice said from behind Y/N.

She slightly jumped – not enough for anyone to notice – and turned around.

There was an older man smiling expectantly at her. He was well dressed and clearly one of the people at the gallery who could actually afford the art.

Yet everything about him felt off, sleazy. He was too confident, too sure of himself. It wasn’t charming. It was off putting.

“Hello,” Y/N replied with indifference before taking a sip of champagne.

“I’ve been trying to look at the art all night. But it seems you keep distracting me.”

Y/N was grateful she’d swallowed her champagne, because she snorted a laugh at the stupid pickup line.

“Is that so?” She made sure to make her tone sound as bored as possible.

Maybe her sheer lack of enthusiasm would scare him away.

“How about we get out of here, grab some real drinks?”

“No, thank you.” Y/N turned back to the paintings and took another sip.

“No?” He leaned forward so he was in her vision once again.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” She raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Ah… I see. You have a boyfriend.”

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. She turned to him once again. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” Then she got herself riled up. She’d had a bad day and therefore this man was out of luck. “Why is it that men can’t seem to respect the word ‘no’? It doesn’t matter if I do or do not have a boyfriend. I’m not interested. And that should be enough.”

“So you’re one of those girls…”

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment. She knew she shouldn’t take the bait. She knew that! But this idiot of a man was making it so hard not to verbally destroy him.

“One of those girls?” She challenged. Her eyes flickered around, making sure they hadn’t gained an audience of any sort. After all, this was a fancy establishment and the last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene.

“Man-hater. Acts offended whenever a guy tries to compliment her. I swear, men can’t even talk to women without getting accused of being a predator.”

He was starting to sound more irritated and angry as he went on.

Y/N’s fire was suddenly extinguished when her survival instincts kicked in.

She felt the fear all women felt when men became unnecessarily angry.

It didn’t matter if she wanted to have a night alone, looking at artwork. She needed to leave before this stranger really caused a scene – or worse, he got physical.

Y/N threw back the rest of her champagne and smoothly placed it on the tray of a passing server. She made moves to quickly walk past him.

Her heart pounded when she felt him following her retreating steps.

“I’m not some creep you know?” He practically hissed at her.

The man was clearly just trying to make himself feel better now. And in the process, he was making Y/N feel more and more unsafe and uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to treat me like some predator.”

Y/N chose the route of ignoring now, just wanting to escape as soon as possible. She hoped he wouldn’t follow her outside. Then she’d have to order a car, not wanting to risk jumping on the subway and getting stuck in a car with him.

“Excuse me,” a voice suddenly interrupted from behind both of them.

Y/N froze. She swore she knew that voice.

She turned around to find Steve Rogers standing in a classic suit and tie. Beside him was another man, just as handsome and tall and buff man, with shaggy brunette hair and scruff.

“Mind your own business,” the man answered, not doing a very good job of hiding his annoyance from the interruption.

Steve didn’t like that. “I own this gallery, so it’s very much my problem.”

Y/N shifted her weight.

Steve had yet to truly look at her. However, his companion was trying to assess how distressed she was from the situation.

“And I don’t appreciate you making my patrons uncomfortable. Please leave.” There was no room for argument in his tone.

The man didn’t appreciate be brushed aside. He took an aggressive step towards the two men. “You’ve got some balls talking to me that way.”

But before he could take another step or say another word, Steve’s friend stepped forward with an expression that instantly convinced Y/N that he was about to kill the guy.

Steve quickly put a hand on his friend’s chest. “I’ll handle this, Buck.”

Buck. As in Bucky? Y/N remembered hearing that name. Steve used to mention him in their conversations all the time. He was Steve’s best friend.

He immediately stood down. Steve leaned in and added something in a whisper that Y/N couldn’t catch.

In that short-lived romance with Steve, Y/N could never even slightly imagine Steve angry or scary. 

But now he looked like a different person.

Y/N finally saw the mobster.

“What is this, some kind of joke?” The man spat right as Steve grabbed his upper arm in a vice-like grip and dragged him away. But he didn’t take him to the main entrance, instead going towards a back exit Y/N didn’t even notice before. Steve managed to do all of this without disrupting any of the guests.

Y/N was now uncomfortable in a completely different way.

She was trying to figure out if she could make a clean getaway.

But Bucky seemed to be reading his mind. “Mind waiting? I know Steve would like to talk to you before you run off again.”

Again.

Had Steve told Bucky about her? The idea of two mobsters sitting around and talking girls brought amusement to Y/N.

“S-Sure,” she didn’t mean to stutter. “Can I get you a glass of champagne? I promise it’ll be the good stuff that we keep hidden away.”

Y/N was taken aback that this man went from looking like he was about commit murder in plain sight to a charming gentleman.

“I’m good. Thank you though.”

He nodded. “Come on.”

She stuttered into step, not sure where he planned on taking her. But for some reason, she blindly followed him anyway.

Bucky led her to a back terrace. It wasn’t open to the public, but still lit to perfection.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“So you’re Bucky, right? The best friend since childhood. The one always pulling him out of fights.”

That earned her a chuckle from him. “That would be correct.”

Then the door opened to the terrace and they both turned to see Steve walking out as he straightened his tie and rebutted his suit.

Bucky turned back to Y/N and gave her a shy smile. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N,” and with that, he walked out of the terrace.

It took her a little too long to realize that she had never given Bucky her name.

Then the same energy that had passed between Y/N and Steve while they were dating returned as if it were only yesterday.

“So…Did you kill him?” Y/N couldn’t help but ask.

“He’s not worth the cleanup.”

Y/N’s eyes widened.

Then Steve broke into an innocent smirk. “I’m messing with you, Y/N.” She blinked at him even saying her name. “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me. After all, it’s been, like–“

“A year and a half,” Steve finished for her with a jarring amount of confidence.

“Yeah,” she admitted. Though clearly she hadn’t forgotten him at all either.

“You’re kind of hard to forget,” Steve admitted quietly.

Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that, or if she even should. So, she decided to change the subject. 

“Do you really own this place?”

He looked around. “Yeah, I always had an affinity for the arts. I don’t run the place or anything. I just make sure it stays in business.”

“Guess that makes sense now that I think about it. You did go to art school after all.”

Steve seemed flattered that she remembered. “Yeah…but then my dad passed right after graduation and I…Well, I was expected to take over the family business.”

“I didn’t know that…I didn’t know that’s how you got to where you are,” Y/N admitted softly.

Steve cleared his throat. “How’ve you been?”

“Umm…fine.” Y/N hated questions like that. No one ever wanted an honest answer. She didn’t get why anyone even bothered asking it.

“Just fine?” Steve prodded, proving that he was one of the people that actually did care about her answer.

Y/N laughed then. “I mean…my life’s pretty much the same since you last saw me.”

God, she probably sounded like such a loser.

“That can’t be true,” Steve tried to argue.

She winced a bit. “Well, it is. Same apartment, same job, same friends–”

“Same boyfriend?”

Y/N stopped and read his face.

Steve instantly regretted his question. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t – I have no place asking you that question.”

“Steve, it’s OK.” Then she sighed. “Same boyfriend,” she confirmed, “as in there isn’t one.”  

He looked like he wanted to say something, but was using a lot of restraint?

“What?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, you want to say something,” she said through a smile.

“You don’t want to hear it.” “Well, now I have to know!”

“I just…I don’t get it,” Steve sighed.

“Get what?”

“How no one is worshipping the ground you walk on…”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“See! You don’t want to hear it.”

Y/N cleared her throat and took a step closer to him. “Had it ever occurred to you that maybe the reason is due to how disappointing men are?”

Steve laughed. “Then I apologize on behalf of men.”

“Why? I wasn’t talking about you.” There was a playfulness in her eyes as she said it.

“Thank you, by the way,” Y/N muttered as she looked at the ground.

“For what?”

“Stepping in back there. I shouldn’t have riled him up. I was stupid – thought I could handle it.”

“It was nothing.” Steve shrugged.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” “I can go finish the job and kill him if it’ll make you feel better,” he offered.

“Steve!”

“What?” He asked innocently.

Then Y/N caught sight of his hands. His knuckles were red and irritated, a few of them were already a little bruised. She assumed that man wouldn’t be harassing any women for a little bit. And the world was better for it.

A chill suddenly went down Y/N’s spine. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly.

“Can I walk you home? Or I can get my driver–”

“Yes,” Y/N answered before he could offer another option.

On the walk home, it was like no time had passed at all. Steve asked Y/N about her job, her friends, and her family, remembering names and specifics details.

Y/N wished her apartment was further away. During their walk, she realized how much she had missed Steve. Yes, they had never defined their relationship or made it official. But they had gotten to know each other so quickly. Not to mention Y/N had immediately felt comfortable and close with him since date one.

“This is you, right?” Steve pointed to her stoop. This wasn’t the first time he’d walked her home.

Y/N fidgeted with her hands in front of her.

“Wanna…uhh…Would you like to come up?” The words spewed out before she even knew what she was trying to ask.

She didn’t know why she bothered asking. Steve was a gentleman, too polite–

“Yes,” he answered almost instantly.

Steve kept his distance as they went up the building stairs. He was even patient as Y/N fumbled to put her keys into the door.

But as soon as Y/N closed her apartment door behind them, Steve was on her.

She didn’t believe it was possible to have a more heated and passionate kiss than the one they had shared in that alley. 

Boy, was she wrong. 

Steve took charge, made her feel just how much he wanted her.

But then he pulled away and stared into her eyes. “Sorry…I–I…”

“Steve, I swear to god, if you go all nice guy on me now, I will kick your ass.” Y/N gave him a warning look that proved just how serious she was. “My bedrooms that door. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Steve smirked and was back on her.

To Y/N’s surprise, his hands drifted down her waist and then on the outsides of her thighs until they moved to the back and lifted her up. 

She giggled at the gesture and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Y/N let out another adorable giggle when Steve slightly ran them into a wall.

“I’m trying to navigate blind in an apartment I’ve never been inside. Give a guy some slack.”

————————————

Y/N awoke with the feeling like last night had been a dream. But the marks on her skin and the lingering feeling assured it that it was very much real. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a sleeping man on the other side of the bed to assure her as well.

Steve was nowhere to be found. Neither were his clothes.

Y/N sighed, trying to figure out how that all made her feel.

Was it for the best? Was she offended? Was she sad? Was she relieved?

Her racing thoughts stopped when she heard noises coming from her kitchen.

She quickly found a pair of shorts and an oversized band t-shirt that was laying around.

Deciding to be very quiet, Y/N slipped out of her room and found Steve in his undershirt from last night and boxers. His missing clothes were folded nicely on top of one of the seats at her counter.

Steve was lost in his own thoughts as he made breakfast.

Y/N leaned against the doorway taking it all in.

She wondered what it would be like for this to become her normal. Steve just looked like he belonged in her kitchen.

Y/N’s throat tightened and her stomach dropped when she realized that she didn’t know what it felt like to share her life with someone like that.

She quickly cleared her throat before the emotions could take over. “Thought you snuck out.”

Steve quickly turned around. “Really think I’d do that?” Y/N shrugged and stepped further into the kitchen. She sat at the kitchen counter and watched in amusement as Steve continued making them breakfast.

“I made coffee already,” he pointed to the filled pot with his spatula.

She nodded and poured herself some.

“Steve…” He quickly turned around and she noticed how sad his blue eyes looked. “Whatever you were about to say…Can we just – Is it OK if we enjoy this just a little bit longer?”

Y/N instantly shut her mouth and nodded. Then she eyed the scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast he’d cooked. “You didn’t have to make me breakfast…”

Steve just gave her a look that said, ‘Of course I fucking did. Why wouldn’t I?’

“Sorry my apartment is so…small.” Y/N apologized softly. She assumed he had not one, but multiple luxurious homes around the world. This place probably seemed like a dingy shoebox in comparison.

Steve looked around with a smile. “I love your apartment. It’s homey and cozy and it feels like you.”

Y/N was so taken aback by his retort that she just blinked at him.

They both ate in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Y/N kept wondering how he did that, how he made her feel so safe with him. 

Once Steve was finished, he leaned back in his seat and looked at her patiently. That was the only cue she was going to get.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I ended things last time,” she told him gently. 

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” Steve corrected. “You did the right thing.”

Y/N’s mouth went dry. “I did?”

“I was selfish. I wouldn’t accept that you aren’t meant for my world. I refused to even consider how dangerous your life would become for just being with me.” Steve shook his head. “I was selfish,” he repeated.

Y/N refused to meet his eyes now. “So…what does that make last night?”

“Last night was…” Steve smiled shyly. “Last night was perfect.”

Y/N eyed him. “But you’re about to tell me that it’s all there’s going to be, aren’t you?”

Steve leaned forward and rubbed his face.

“Y/N, I can’t drag you into my toxic life. I won’t do that to you.” He shook his head at the mere idea. “Y/N… you deserve someone who can be an honest man for you. Someone who’s life isn’t going to get you killed.”

“You’ve never lied to me, Steve.”

“But I will. Because if I fully opened up that side of me, you’d never look at me the same. I can’t lie to you and I can’t terrify you with the reality. Don’t you get it?”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over, but she made herself keep it together. “So, what do we have then?”

Steve sighed. “I guess we just have the past.”

She scoffed at him. “After last night, with the way we feel when we’re together…You’re not even willing to try?”

“No, Y/N. I’m not willing to risk your safety.”

Then he was up, taking his clothes to the bathroom with him.

He came out a few minutes later, his hair fixed and his clothes looked like they could’ve come right from the cleaners.

“Please don’t hate me,” he finally whispered.

That’s when Y/N couldn’t keep the tears back any longer. She laughed from both the idea of hating him and being embarrassed for crying.

“Steve, I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

Then he couldn’t stop himself. Steve pulled Y/N into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest.

“I wish things were different,” he spoke into her hair. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

And with that, he kissed the top of her head and made his escape.  

It was Y/N that pushed him away the first time. To protect her heart, her morals, probably her life.

But now it was Steve pushing her away. Not because he didn’t love her, but because he had to keep her safe.

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

And you all thought you were getting a second chance at a fluffy, happy ending...

Part III

[xxcxcs-blog]

Everything You Need to Stock an at-Home Bar

So you finally found the bar cart of your dreams, and you’ve loaded it up with your favorite liquor. While those are two very important steps to curating an at-home bar, to really make your setup recall that of your favorite watering hole, you’re going to want to add some barware and cocktail equipment. But that can be an intimidating task, especially if you’ve had more experience drinking cocktails than making them. The good news is that you don’t have to spend a lot of money. “Most people in their home bar really don’t need that many tools,” advises Joaquín Simó, a partner at New York City’s Pouring Ribbons who was named Tales of the Cocktail’s American Bartender of the Year in 2012. “I say you start with the absolute basics and concentrate on the things that you like to use.”

If you’re in a pinch, Martin Hudak, a bartender at Maybe Sammy, says you can always use bartender tools you may already have on hand: “For your shaken cocktails, you can use empty jam jars or a thermos flask. For measuring, spoons and cups, and for stirring, any spoon or back of a wooden ladle.” But Stacey Swenson, the head bartender at Dante (which currently holds the No. 1 spot on the World’s 50 Best Bars list), notes that if you’re going to put stuff on display, you might want gear that’s both practical and stylish. “You want something that’s functional and also something that’s pretty,” she says. “If you’re putting it on your bar cart, you kind of put on a show for your guests.” With the help of Simó, Hudak, Swenson, and 28 other experts, we’ve put together the below list of essential gear for any cocktail-lover’s home bar.

Editor’s note: If you want to support service industry workers who have been impacted by the coronavirus closures, you can donate to the Restaurant Workers’ Community Foundation, which has set up a COVID-19 Crisis Relief Fund, or One Fair Wage, which has set up an Emergency Coronavirus Tipped and Service Worker Support Fund. We’ve also linked to any initiatives the businesses mentioned in this story have set up to support themselves amid the coronavirus pandemic.

According to Simó, all shakers “technically do the same thing, and there are very cheap and very nice versions,” so there’s really no superior option when it comes to function. That said, many professional bartenders use Boston-style shakers, which are basically two cups that fit into each other and form a tight seal to keep liquid from splashing all over you. “If you want to look like a bartender at Death & Co. or PDT, and you want the same kit, then you’re probably going to go metal-on-metal,” or “tin-on-tin,” Simó notes. Six of our experts recommend these weighted tin-on-tin shakers — which come in a range of finishes, including copper and silver — from Cocktail Kingdom, a brand that nearly every bartender we spoke to praised for its durable, well-designed barware. Grand Army’s beverage director, Brendan Biggins, and head bartender, Robby Dow, call this “the gold standard” of shaking tins. “Behind the bar, there’s almost nothing worse than shaker tins that don’t seal well or don’t separate easily,” explains Krissy Harris, the beverage director and owner of Jungle Bird in Chelsea. “The Koriko Weighted Shaking tins seal perfectly every time and easily release,” she says. And because they’re weighted, they’re less likely to fall over and spill.

For some people, a two-piece setup like the above shakers might be tricky to use comfortably. “Say you’re a petite female — if you have very small hands, then maybe using a Boston-style shaker may be a little harder,” explains Simó. In that case, a cobbler shaker may be the better choice, because it’s smaller than a Boston-style shaker and thus easier to hold. The other convenient part of a cobbler-style shaker is that the strainer is already built into the lid, so you don’t necessarily have to spring for an additional wine tools. Karen Lin, a certified sommelier, sake expert, and the executive general manager of Tsukimi, suggests this shaker from Japanese barware brand Yukiwa. “The steel is very sturdy, and the shape fits perfectly in my hands,” she says. “It is also designed well so you can take it apart easily to clean.”

You know how James Bond always ordered his martinis shaken, not stirred? Well, if you were to ignore Mr. Bond’s order and make a stirred martini — or any other stirred cocktail, like a Negroni or a Manhattan — you’d set aside the shaker to use a mixing beaker instead. A mixing beaker is essentially a large vessel in which you dump your liquors and mix your drink. And though you can purchase handsome crystal ones for hundreds of dollars, both Simó and Swenson agree that they’re kind of superfluous for a basic bar kit. “I don’t think you should spend any more than $25 on a mixing glass,” says Swenson. Harris agrees, saying that since they are the most broken item behind the bar, you should stick to a well-priced option like this mixing glass from Hiware that “doesn’t have a seam, so it’s stronger and very attractive.”

One of Simó’s hacks to getting a glass mixing beaker for not that much money is to use the glass piece from a French press, which is something else you might already own. If you want a dedicated one for your bar cart (that could serve as a backup for your French press), he says you can buy a replacement glass like this one, which has a capacity that is particularly useful if you’re making drinks for a lot of people. “I generally will take one or two of the big guys with me when I’m doing events, because then I can stir up five drinks in one, and it’s really convenient,” Simó explains.

According to Paul McGee, a co-owner of Lost Lake in Chicago, “finding vintage martini pitchers is very easy, and they are perfect for making large batches of cocktails.” Plus, they’ll look more visually striking on your bar cart. This one is even pretty enough to use as a vase when it’s not filled with punch. The photo shows the pitcher next to a strainer, but you’re only getting the pitcher for the price shown.

If you’re making a stirred drink, a mixing or bar set spoon is also necessary. “Three basic styles exist: the American bar spoon has a twisted handle and, usually, a plastic cap on the end, the European bar spoon has a flat muddler/crusher, and the Japanese bar spoon is heavier, with a weighted teardrop shape opposite the bowl,” explains Joe Palminteri, the director of food and beverage at Hamilton Hotel’s Via Sophia and Society. None of our experts recommended specific American-style bar spoons, but Simó told us that one of his favorite Japanese-style spoons is this one made by bartender Tony Abou-Ganim’s Modern Mixologist brand. “It’s got a really nice, deep bowl to it, which means you’re able to measure a nice, level teaspoon” without searching through your drawers, according to him. Simó continues, “The little top part of it has a nice little weight to it, but it’s not too bulky. So it gives you a really nice balance as you’re moving the mixing spoon around,” making your job a little easier.

Should your at-home bartending require a lot of muddling, Swenson recommends getting a European-style spoon like this, which he says will still allow you to stir while eliminating the need to buy a dedicated muddler. “You can actually use the top of the spoon to crush a sugar cube if you wanted to for your old-fashioned. I have one of those, so I don’t have to have two tools; I’ve got both of them right there.”

You don’t necessarily need a strainer if you’re using a cobbler shaker, since it’s already got a strainer built into the lid. But if you’re using a Boston-style shaker, you should get what’s called a Hawthorne strainer to make sure the ice you used to chill your drink doesn’t end up in your glass and dilute the cocktail. Three experts recommend this one, including Lynnette Marrero, the beverage director of Llama Inn and Llama-San and the co-founder of Speed Rack, who says it’s her absolute favorite because “it is light and easy to clutch and close correctly.” If you choose to buy this Hawthorne strainer, Simó also recommends getting “the replacement springs that Cocktail Kingdom sells,” telling us they’re a good way to give a worn-out strainer a face-lift. “They’re really, really nice and tight, and you can generally slip them into any Hawthorne strainer that you have.”A jigger is what you use to measure the liquor into the shaker or mixing glass. A hyperfunctional, albeit nontraditional-looking, option is the mini measuring wine decante from OXO. “I know some bartenders, including the ones at Drink in Boston, one of the best bars in the country, swear by those graduated OXO ones because they love the ability to read them from both the sides and the top,” explains Simó. “You can measure in tablespoons or ounces or milliliters, and it’s all on the same jigger.” Part-time bartender Jillian Norwick and Ward both love it too and keep the stainless steel version on hand (which looks a little nicer when left out). Noriwck adds that she’s in good company: “The peeps at Bon Appétit love it.”This fancy-looking jigger combines the functional appeal of the OXO measuring wine glass (it’s basically a cup that grows wider to accommodate different amounts of liquid) with the aesthetic appeal of a classic bar tool. It also makes measuring a snap: “This handy measuring bar table and stools is super-easy to use and enables the imbiber to essentially build all the ingredients of a drink in one go,” says Confrey.If you’re going for a more classic look but still want something practical, Simó recommends this double-sided metal jigger that has a one-ounce cup on one side and a two-ounce cup on the other. The one-ounce side on this strainer also has a half- and three-quarter-ounce lines etched into it to make it even more precise. “That gives you a lot of wiggle room” and will allow you to measure for most basic cocktails, Simó says. “From there, you really just have to learn what a quarter-ounce looks like in there, and you’re pretty much good to go.”

Biggens, Dowe, and Swenson prefer a Leopold jigger, which has a unique bell shape (with one bell holding an ounce, and the other two ounces) as well as lines etched on the inside marking both quarter- and half-ounces. “They’re really easy to hold and they have some weight to them,” Swenson adds. “Somebody who’s not really experienced using a jigger is going to be fine with something with a little bit more weight to it. And they look cool.”

Though it’s easy to want to get a different type of glass for every type of drink you make, that’s really unnecessary when you’re first starting out. According to Simó, “You can make 90 percent of drinks into a good, all-purpose cocktail glass like a rocks or a collins glass.” (While this section contains our bartenders’ favorite glasses, if you want to shop around, you can find most of these styles at various price points in our list of the best drinking glasses.) A collins — or highball — glass is the one that looks like a chimney, and generally you’re looking for something that’s about 12 ounces, like these collins glasses from bartender-favorite brand Cocktail Kingdom. “You don’t want a 16-ounce Collins glass because you’re going to be hammered after your second Tom Collins,” advises Simó.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl

Summary: What happens when Merriell “Snafu” Shelton has to get creative during a quarantine to make sure his girl has a very happy birthday?

Word Count: 3868

A/N: Reposting bc the original moodboard was too hot to handle according to the community guidelines ... 🤦‍♀️

Warnings: Smut (18+ please), but this is also tooth-rottingly fluffy at times

* * * * *

You eyed Merriell warily once more, unable to stop yourself from asking him for the third time in a row if he was sure he didn’t want to come along.

“Sometimes, baby, ya make things exceptionally difficult fo’ da wrong reasons. Now, go.”

“But it’s my birthday.”

Mer closed his eyes in a prolonged blink as his hands moved to his hips. He opened them slowly and fixed you with a stare before he said, as if he were talking to a child, “Don’t ya think dat’s why I need ya to go by ya’self today?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking for a moment before it dawned on you that he was trying to surprise you.

“Ohhh. Okaaay,” you said, giving him an exaggerated wink.

He laughed and lowered his hands, closing the distance between you so he could give you a kiss on the forehead.

“Take ya time or all ah dis is in vain.”

“Two hours?”

He nodded, a soft smile on his lips.

“Two hours,” you confirmed with a resolute nod.

With that, you flounced out of the house, your mind working to figure out what he was up to as you hopped into your car. Since the quarantine had begun, you and Merriell made sure to get outside, driving to an old walking trail about 20 minutes from your house. It was nice to include the outdoors in your routine, although that often meant it was just a new backdrop for Merriell to seduce you.

You absent mindedly rubbed at your back, wondering if your scratches from the tree he fucked you against last week had fully healed. Either way, it was worth it.

Even though you missed Merriell, it was nice to be alone. By the time you made it back to your car, almost three hours had gone by. That was an hour more than he had insisted he needed for your surprise, so you drove home quicker than usual, unable to stifle your happy grin as you blasted your radio, cheering when 50 Cent’s In Da Club came on, leaving you to decide that maybe a quarantine birthday wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

You cut the engine and walked up the stone path that wound its way from your, well from Merriell’s detached garage and as you rounded to the front porch, you stopped in your tracks. Merriell was sitting on the porch, his arms spread out across your well-loved blue bench. He was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, just for you. You loved the way that man looked in a fitted black tee.

“Hi-ya, baby. Nice walk?” he asked as he brought his glass of whiskey to his mouth and took a long drink.

“It really was! And did you have a nice afternoon? Did you dooo anything special?”

Merriell smirked, “Stop fishin’ fo’ information ya ain’t gonna get til I’m good and ready.

“Speakin’ of which … put dis on,” he said, leaning forward and dangling a black sleep mask from his thick index finger that you mostly used for sleep.

You quirked your brow and stepped forward and pulled the mask on. You heard him finish the last of his drink before he stood and took your hands to guide you into the house.

“No peekin,” Merriell warned as you grinned.

“I’m kinda excited, to be honest.”

Merriell leaned over and kissed your temple, which was still sweaty from your long hike.

You knew by the distance you walked that you were at least in the bedroom, but when he closed a door behind him, you knew you were in the bathroom.

He lifted the blindfold from your eyes and you looked at him curiously as he moved to stand in front of you, his hand coming under your chin to lift it gently so your eyes were locked on his. His other hand rested on your waist, and you watched the movement of his mouth as he began to speak.

“Now, listen. I hate dat I can’t take ya out on ya birthday because believe me, you deserve the world, Y/N. So I’ve come up with somethin’ I hope ya gonna like. Get ready like ya got somewhere to go. Ya birthday present starts as soon as ya come outta dis bathroom. Okay?”

“You really didn’t have to—”

“Don’t ya dare start with dat shit,” Merriell said as he smiled and reached up to cup your face in his hands. His eyes flicked from yours then to your lips before he leaned in and kissed you.

In true Merriell Shelton fashion, it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a kiss.

By the time he pulled away, you were more breathless than you were during the entirety of your hike.  

“Shower,” he said, giving your ass a smack before he quickly opened then shut the bathroom door.

* * * * *

15 minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom, and your face lights up as you look around the bedroom. Clad only in your towel, you glance at the floor to see wildflowers shaped in arrows pointing to the bed.

As you step around them, still smiling, you pick up the brand-new bra and underwear set laid out on your comforter. They were a gorgeous shade of grey-blue and made of a delicate lace that surely had Merriell some kinda way as he picked them out. Dropping your towel, you stepped into the panties and then wriggled into the bra.

On the bed, there was another arrow of flowers that pointed to the closet. You were giddy as you rushed over and turned on the light. Hanging in the middle of your clothes was a bright pink garment bag. You pulled it off the hook and gasped with delight at the sexy new dress he had picked out. Pinned to the front of the dress was a note.

“This is as far as I dare go, darlin—shoes and whatever else it is you do to always look so good is up to you.”

You giggled and put the dress back as you rushed out of the closet to finish getting ready.

About a half an hour later, you gave yourself one last look in the mirror and gave yourself a whistle of appreciation. Mer knew how to pick a dress—just the right amount of tight, just the right amount of skin, and made of a material that made you want to run your hands all over it.

You had chosen a pair of red heels, figuring that Mer’s goal was two-fold: to do something sweet for your birthday, but also to make his cock hard without you even touching him. You weren’t about to disappoint.

Finally ready to leave the bedroom, you laughed as you noticed a note on the door: “Do not come out until you are ready!!!”

Shaking your head, you open the door slowly and give him a warning shout.

“Heeey! I’m comin’ out!”

Merriell appeared at the end of the hallway and his eyes widened at the sight of you. He gave you an ear-piercing wolf-whistle as he clapped his hands and made his way down the hall.

“Wow, baby girl! I mean, I knew ya’d look good, but goddamn. Gimme a spin!”

You obliged and twirled, only to be immediately swept into his arms.

“Ya smell so good,” he said as he began kissing your neck, his cock already half-hard and pressing into your hip as he rubbed against you.

“Speaking of stuff that smells good?” you said, your eyes shut as you enjoyed the feeling of his lips on your neck. Part of you wanted nothing more than to have him give you that good lovin’ that would have you on cloud 9 for the rest of the night, but your stomach was putting up quite the protest once you caught of whiff of whatever was in the kitchen.

With a last nip to your collar bone, Merriell pulled himself away and proffered his arm to you.

“Right dis way, lovely.”

You laughed at his antics as he escorted you into the kitchen, then your mouth fell open as you looked around. He had bunches of colorful wildflowers in as many vases, mason jars, and glasses that you owned. Clustered between were tea light candles, which set the mood perfectly as the afternoon sun faded into its evening light.

And on your little kitchen table, Mer had set out a formal place setting complete with perfectly triangular cloth napkins and a full set of silverware. You noticed he used your grandmother’s blue and white china and that made you feel a little sentimental, which wasn’t such a horrible thing to feel on a birthday.

“I’m … speechless, Mer. This is—thank you.”

Merriell was grinning as he ushered you into your seat, and your eyes lit up at the big serving dish full of pasta.

“Oh— da bread!” he said as he dashed over to the oven and pulled out the home-made garlic bread you had smelled as you came out of the bedroom.

“Everything looks so good. Ten times better than a restaurant!”

“And no one is gonna give us dirty looks if I become inclined to finger ya unda da table.”

You laughed, and silently thanked whatever powers that existed that Merriell Shelton was yours—no one had ever made you happier.

Dinner was delightful—Mer was an excellent cook and your conversation was as easy as it always was between the two of you, despite the seriousness of the topic. There was only so much either of you could take of the Coronavirus before you started to search out the most ridiculous news stories of the day to share with each other to see who found the funniest. It had become a bit of a competition between the two of you, but it was all in good fun.

One bottle of wine later, dinner was finished, but just as you were about to stand and stretch your legs, Mer insisted you stayed in your seat.

“Got one more thing,” he said as he dropped the dirty dishes he cleared away into the sink.

He made his way to the fridge and opened it, and his rustling clearly indicated that he had hid something in there from you.

Amusedly, you watched as he brought out a dish that had been wrapped in an inordinate amount of tinfoil.

“Don’t look at me like dat—you are da one who can’t be trusted not to snoop,” he said as he peeled off the layers to finally reveal a cake.

“Ooo, that looks yummy,” you said, sitting up a little straighter in your chair.

“Betta’ be. Pain in da ass to make and keep hidden,” Merriell said with a teasing grin.

“Is it? Oh, it is!” you said with delight as Merriell sat the tiramisu cake down in front of you, it’s delicious creamy-coffee scent enticing you enough to make you close your eyes and inhale as Mer put a candle into the middle and lit it.

He was standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders. He slowly began to slide them down your arms until he was able to bend next to your ear.

“Make a wish,” he said in a low voice that was really more like a purr than an enounced set of words.

Leaning forward, you closed your eyes and thought about everything you were grateful for and wished only for another year of the same.

Merriell laughed softly near the side of your face as you turned to thank him again, and he reached out to take a hold of your chin so he could press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Ya welcome. Seein’ ya smile was worth da three cakes I had to scrap.”

“You’re a perfectionist and you know it,” you said with a light smack to his ass as he walked over to cut the cake, your eyes still trained on the way he looked in those jeans as he cut you a piece of cake.

“Dat’s true. Dat’s true. But I don’t hear ya commentin’ on it when I’m bein’ ah perfectionist between those sweet thighs ah yours.”

“Mer,” you moaned out at both the taste of the cake and at his words.

He shot you a shit-eating grin as he took his seat and dug into his own slice of cake.

As it was prone to doing, the air between you and Merriell shifted as you enjoyed your birthday cake.

The conversation faded and glances of longing took its place. You watched the way Merriell’s tongue traced along the tines of his fork as he licked at the remainder of a bite of cream.

Merriell stopped eating, mid fork to mouth, as you scooped up a bit of fallen cake and cream with your forefinger and popped it into your mouth, sucking your finger clean.

It didn’t help that you looked up at him and smiled around your finger before returning to your cake.

“Did, uh, everythin’ I bought ya fit all right?” Mer said as he cleared his throat and set his fork down next to his clean plate.

“It did,” you said in a low voice, one that Merriell knew meant you were just about done with playing polite for the evening.

“I don’t suppose ya might wanna show me how well it … all fits?”

“Well … since you asked,” you said slowly, “I do particularly like this little pearl that dangles … right … here,” you finished as you slowly pulled the front of your dress down with your finger, stopping beneath the bottom edge of your bra.

Merriell’s eyes had changed from sweet to predatory as he took in the curve of your breasts and the detailing on the lingerie he had picked out.

He blinked as his trance broke when you let your dress pop back into place as you leaned back in your chair.

“I’m going to clear away these dishes,” you said with a sly smile as you stood and gathered up your cake plates. “Whoops!”

Merriell watched as the fork fell from your fingertips, and he watched as you set your grandmother’s plates on the kitchen island, and he watched as you exaggeratedly bent over to retrieve that fork, your dress riding up high enough for him to just catch a peek of those blue-grey panties that framed the curve of your ass perfectly—

In all of .5 seconds, everything on the kitchen table crashed to the ground and you were thrown onto it with Merriell half crawling on top of you as he kissed you.

“My … cake!” you managed around his tongue as he licked at your lips.

“Bake ya ten more,” he panted before he shut you both up with his tongue swirling in your mouth, kissing you like it was your last night on earth.

By the time he had moved from your mouth to your neck, you had forgotten about the cake. Merriell was clutching at the fabric of your dress, running his hands up and down your body, just like you knew he would. What you could never replicate in your mind, though, was just how good his hands felt.

Moaning, you wrapped your legs around him and ground into the front of his jeans. He pulled back just long enough to yank his black t-shirt over his head. You ran your hands up and down his arms, squeezing at his biceps while his attention returned to your neck, his tongue dipping into the hallow of your throat before he licked all the way up to your chin.

“Mer,” you breathed, your hips grinding into his.

“What ya want, birthday girl?” his voice rumbled next to your ear before he sucked on the lobe.

“Your tongue on my clit,” you said without hesitation.

He chuckled, “Done,” before he straightened and scooted you to the edge of the table, his hands sliding up the fabric of your dress, letting it pool at your waist before he pulled it out from under your ass.

You raised your arms and he pulled the dress off, his eyes taking a moment to roam over your underwear.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said, his eyes locked on your face as he spoke, making you flush with pride.

“Lay back.”

You did, your head resting just at the edge of the small, but sturdy table.

Merriell stayed standing as he kissed down your stomach in a heated hurry. He slowed down as he moved to your thighs, kissing and nipping at them as you spread your legs wider and wider. He reached down and gripped your feet, pulling off your heels and massaging your arches before he dragged his fingers up your calves.

He pressed into the flesh of your thighs and moved his hands to your panties, sliding one of them under the fabric to grasp your mound. He pressed his thumb into your clit and listened as you breathed out, sighing at his touch.

He slid his thumb farther down into your folds, testing your wetness. He grinned as he felt how slick you were and he pulled his hand away, bringing his thumb to his mouth to suck off your arousal.

Mer licked his lips, thinking that the taste of you beat anything he’d ever whipped up in a kitchen, and he gripped the sides of your panties so he could slide them off your legs.

Dropping to his knees, he was now at the perfect height to eat you like the birthday goddess you were.

Hooking your legs over his shoulders, he leaned in and sucked on each of your outer lips, playing with them before he released them to place a flat-tongued lick up the center of your pussy, lapping up your arousal and swallowing before he reached up to spread your lips.

You were clutching the edge of the kitchen table, lost to the heat of his mouth as he worked you over in true Merriell Shelton fashion—licking, sucking, and teasing until you were a panting mess, whimpering for release.

“S’okay, baby girl—come any time ya want,” he hummed over your clit, finally pulling it into his mouth, sucking the swollen flesh until you squeezed your thighs against his face, shaking and crying out his name.

He eased up, swirling his tongue over the sensitive area as the last waves of your intense climax subsided.

He wiped his face against your thigh before he kissed up your body, leaning over you so he could rub his face in the space between your breasts and lick at the exposed cleavage.

“Free me,” you said with a smile as you leaned up on your elbows.

Mer grinned and reached back to unhook your bra, your breasts falling to the sides as he tossed the bra behind him.

He gathered them up in his hands, kneading them tenderly as he moved to work your nipples to a peak.

You laid back again, your hand sliding through his curls as he teased you with his tongue. He always looked so good, smiling around your nipple as he looked up at you, his eyes so full of love and want that it never failed to make you ache.

“I want you, Mer.”

“Here?” he said as he let your nipple go.

“Why not?” you replied wriggling your hips against his still-jean-clad cock.

“And take off those pants niiice and slooow,” you added, sitting up on your elbows again.

Merriell laughed, his eyes such a sparkling green as they crinkled at the corners.

“Dat how ya want me to fuck ya, too? Nice and slow?”

“No,” you said as you watched his fingers open his belt and then unbutton his jeans.

His thumb and forefinger pinched the zipper and he slid it down, nice and slow, the sound of the teeth opening almost deafening in the quiet of your kitchen.

“Mmm,” you hummed, your eyes zeroed in on where his cock was about to spring free.

Mer’s mouth popped open in a lazy half grin as he hooked his thumbs into the waist of his jeans and slowly slid them from his hips.

He wasn’t wearing underwear, so you licked your lips as his cock bounced, finally free from its confines.

Mer bent to shimmy the rest of the away out of his pants, then he straightened, popping his hands onto his hips while you admired his body.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” you parroted from earlier, your eyes trained on his face as he didn’t bother to hide the million-dollar smile you elicited.

Merriell moved to edge of the table and you laid back, hooking your legs around his hips as he rubbed the tip of his cock through your wetness, his hand working his cock to squeeze free some precum.

He pushed into you and you both groaned at the satiation of an ache that could only be soothed but the sensation of him filling you and your heat enveloping him.

“Ya best hang on, baby girl,” he managed before he pulled out and slammed back into you, your back scooting just a bit up the table.

“Fuck!”

“Uh-huh. Dat’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

Merriell began to move with conviction, his hands under your legs, hooked at your knees so you were open to him. You knew there were going to be bruises where his hips pounded into you, but what a sweet reminder they would be of just how goddamn good it felt to be fucked by your Cajun.

“Ya always feel so fuckin’ good around ma’ cock, baby girl.”

“So good,” you murmured, concentrating on the way he felt moving inside of you and on the way your body just wanted to build itself back up to come for him again.

The kitchen filled with a chorus of moans and groans, of dirty praises, and of sweet mutterings of passion, and when Merriell slowed his pace, his balls tightening so he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, he leaned over you, deepening the angle of penetration and begged you to come for him again.

“Come on. Come for me. Come for me, Y/N.”

He pulled you up and against him, your bodies pressed together as he ground into you, your ass bracing against the table as you dug your heels into the backs of his thighs.

He kissed you, then, deep and passionate. He kissed you until you came, your mouth pulling from his to shout his name as your eyes rolled back.

“Yes, baby girl. Fuck, yes,” he hissed as he came after you, his hot cum spurting against your tight walls before slowly leaking out when Merriell finally pulled away, needing to sit down.

You turned to look at him, sprawled back in the chair as his mouth was open wide to catch his breath. He met your eyes and huffed out a laugh as you started to giggle.

“Happy birthday?” he questioned.

“A happy fucking birthday, indeed,” you replied, running your hands through your mussed hair as you shook with more laughter.

[trensu]

Episode 29: The One where WWX is the Grandmaster of Self-Loathing and It Kills Me

~THEIR SONG~ IS PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND ALREADY

WHICH MEANS WE’RE STARTING THE EPISODE WITH QUALITY WANGXIANTICS

Actually the whole episode has High Quality wangxiantics and then it guts you with depressing feelings ahahaha 

bc apparently we’re not allowed to have nice things without Suffering™

So they’re sharing a meal at some meal-selling place in Yiling (idk guys, is it a winehouse? a teahouse?? An inn??? DOESN’T MATTER)

Lwj and wwx are sitting on either side of the table looking somber

I guess they’re feeling awkward maybe??

Idk why, it’s weird

A-Yuan starts frolicking around lwj and wwx gets all antsy about it

He’s all hey, stop bothering lan zhan, come here!

And A-Yuan is all like, NO, I DON’T WANNA and clambers oNTO LWJ’S LAP

IT’S TOO ADORABLE

Wwx starts to scold him but lwj is like NO NO, THIS IS FINE

Wwx teases a-yuan

He’s all, oh, i see how it is, you’ll just chuck me to the side for anyone who’s willing to buy you stuff, huh?

Like i said before, a-yuan is a smart cookie

Then a-yuan takes a seat and goes to town on a bowl of soup.

I understand, a-yuan, i love soup too.

And then he calls wwx to get his attention SO HE CAN SPOON-FEED HIM A BIT OF HIS SOUP AND IT’S TOO CUTE 

Wwx is like, oh, so you DO still love me!

Lwj watches this go down and then informs A-Yuan very somberly of the lan fam rule “no talking during meals”

That’s RIGHT

LWJ JUST DAD’D THE HECK OUT OF HIM

A-yuan continues to chow down on his food but definitely stops talking

Wwx is offended and aghast that a-yuan obeys lwj so easily and he complains to lwj that he has to repeat himself SEVERAL TIMES before a-yuan listens to him

Lwj: silence during meals. You too.

Wwx just smiles at the ridiculous rule and continues talking

Wwx: you haven’t changed one bit. 

Wwx: you know, i know my way around this town, i can be your tour guide!!

Lwj pointedly does not take him up on his offer AND I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY, IT’S NOT LIKE HE DOESN’T WANT TO SPEND EVERY WAKING MOMENT WITH WWX ANYWAY

Wwx: lan zhan, you’re a terrible liar. You aren’t in town for me, are you?

And still lwj doesn’t respond??? 

IT’S BECAUSE OF THAT STUPID LAN FAM RULE, ISN’T IT??

TALK TO YOU SOULMATE, DAMN IT

WHO CARES IF YOU’RE HAVING A MEAL WHILE YOU’RE AT IT

Wwx: you know, i was gonna invite you over to my place but if you’re just gonna nag at me about my demonic cultivation and how i should meditate or whatever, then forget about it

Wwx: i can control myself! I don’t need anyone to save me.

Lwj: wei ying

Wwx: lan zhan, i finally bump into someone i know who doesn’t try to avoid me...it’s been a boring couple of months, why don’t you tell me about any big events happening?

Lwj: what do you mean by big events?

Wwx: idk, like if there’s any new clans or if any clans expanded or made new alliances...just chit chat! Anything is fine.

Lwj: a marriage

Wwx: a marriage? Which clans? 

he sounds so excited to get some juicy gossip here

It’s not gonna last long

Lwj: the jin clan and jiang clan

Wwx: do you mean my sister---Lady Jiang and Jin Zixuan?

Oh god it HURTS

He corrected himself when he called jyl his sister

BECAUSE HE’S NOT PART OF THEIR CLAN ANYMORE

And then he plasters on a smile TO HIDE HOW HURT HE IS THAT THIS IS ALL HAPPENING WITHOUT HIM and asks when the wedding will be

WHICH TURNS OUT TO BE TWO WEEKS AWAY

And his face iS ALL SAD AND HE’S STILL TRYING TO MUSTER UP SMILES 

He’s all, such a big event and jc didn’t even try to tell me about it!

Wwx: even if he told me about it, what could i do then? I defected officially and have no ties to them. What could i do if he had told me?

Wwx: *chugs wine*

Alcohol, wwx, we’ve talked about the alcohol thing. Please stop drinking.

LWJ CAN’T EVEN LOOK AT HIM RIGHT NOW BC HIS SOULMATE IS HURTING AND THERE’S NOTHING HE CAN DO TO MAKE IT BETTER

Wwx: lan zhan, what do you think about this marriage? Oh, right, you don’t care about this sort of thing.

Wwx: i know everyone says that my sister doesn’t deserve jzx, but in MY eyes, that peacock doesn’t deserve her! 

He slams down his wine jar and his voice gets all upset 

And little a-yuan reaches out and grabs wwx’s wrist TO COMFORT HIM, PRECIOUS DARLING BABY

Wwx: She deserves the best man in the world!! JC and i promised her a grand wedding that would be remembered forever!! No other wedding would compare!!

Wwx: and it doesn’t even matter because i won’t be able to go anyway.

AND HE HAS THE SADDEST SMILE ON HIS FACE 

Obviously he takes another swig of wine here because alcohol makes everything better in wwx’s book, which is a lie but since when does anyone listen to me

Lwj: wei ying

And lwj was about to say something else but they get interrupted by wwx’s home alarm talisman informing him that’s something going down in the burial mounds

So wwx grabs a-yuan and dashes out the door

Lwj is quick enough on his feet to remember to pay for the meal and grab a-yuan’s toys (very important, very important, it’s why a-yuan likes him right now) and then follows wwx

Wwx: lan zhan, why are you following us??

Lwj: wei ying, where’s your Magic Ghostbusting Sword?

Wwx: uhhhh...i forgot it at home?

Lol, lwj doesn’t even bother to respond to that. He just grabs a-yuan and runs with wwx all the way back to the burial mounds

OH NO, THERE’S RESENTFUL ENERGY EVERYWHERE BEATING PEOPLE UP AND MAKING A MESS OF THINGS

Holy crap, wwx does this really impressive Dramatic Twirl and magically slams the resentful energy away

HE’S SUCH A BADASS

IT’S ALL IN THE ~TWIRL~ BABY

Lwj hands a-yuan off to granny while wwx gets the low-down

Turns out Wen Ning sort of woke up but is not, like, all there or smth idk

It’s sad seeing wen ning all violent and mean like this when he’s such a gentle soul :(

ON THE PLUS SIDE, we get to see wwx and lwj work together to save him!!

Surprisingly, the flying here is not super cringey, it’s only mildly awful

LWJ HAS GOT HIS GUQIN OUT AND PROCEEDS TO GUQIN THE HECK OUT OF WEN NING

Also, i love how it kind of looks like he “powers up” his guqin attack by making that circular motion over the strings? The accompanying music from that motion really makes it seem like it’s charging up. I like it.

While lwj is guqin’ing wen ning to stay in one place, wwx goes ninja-fast and slaps like, ALL the talismans on wen ning and activates them simultaneously

And between the two of them, they manage to save wen ning from being a mindless zombie forever!! I mean, he’s still a zombie but he’s got his mind back! EVERYONE’S REALLY HAPPY, INCLUDING ME.

Wwx to wen ning: how are you feeling?

Wn: i feel like crying

LOL ME TOO WN THAT’S USUALLY HOW I FEEL LIKE WHEN PEOPLE ASK ME THAT

Wn: ...but i can’t

Oh.

I take back my lol

Not being able to cry when you want to is actually super depressing.

Lwj: you did it *is impressed*

Wwx: of course! I’m a man of my word. Hey, since you’re already here, why don’t you visit for a bit?

Cut to wwx and lwj walking into the cave that wwx calls home

Lwj: ...it’s called the demon-subdue palace?

Wwx: YEP! I named it myself!!

Wwx: now, i know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking it’s a terrible name, BUT THAT’S WHERE YOU’RE WRONG

Wwx: see, i know everyone thinks i’m, like, evil or whatever and this is the place i sleep most often. 

Wwx: a cave with a demonic man lying down in it all the time? Of course it should be called demon-subdue palace lololol

Me: *facepalm* stop….stop naming things, wwx.

Wwx: let me show you around!

I would like to point out that they walk past the ONE BED in the cave to start the tour

This ONE BED in this SPECIFIC CAVE has featured in many a wonderful fic! And should continue to feature in many more wonderful fics

Wwx: this here is my Blood Pool! It’s where i heal up and buff my stats, just like you have your Cold Spring! Except mine has water that smells like blood and comes out of that creepy giant stone face thing

Lwj looks rightfully concerned

And also, i am offended on his behalf that wwx would compare this creepy ass pool to the cold spring. How very dare.

Oh man, they’re about to have a Serious Conversation

BUT IT’S BETTER THAN THEIR LAST SERIOUS CONVERSATION

Because this time they actually talk things out

(see, lwj can learn from his mistakes!)

Lwj: wei ying...can you really control it?

Wwx: control what? Wen ning? Of course I can! Look at him, he’s all better!

Lwj: what if he loses himself again?

Wwx: i’m a pro at handling his rampages now. As long as i have Plot Device 2, nothing will happen to him!

Lwj: but what if something happens to you or Plot Device 2?

Wwx: it won’t

Lwj: how can you be sure?

Wwx: it won’t and it can’t!

Lwj: you want to keep it this way from now on?

Wwx: what’s wrong with that? Don’t underestimate this land! It’s bigger than YOUR land and the food here tastes better too!

Lwj: wei ying, you know what i mean

Wwx: lan zhan, i’m trying to avoid the topic and you keep talking about it!!

Then their Serious Conversation gets derailed bc wwx starts coughing. Which might not seem like a big deal but it is

Lwj: your injuries…

And here lwj grabs at wwx’s wrist but wwx yanks it back real fast

Bc the wrist is where they check for spiritual energy or smth and we all know wwx doesn’t have that anymore, since he GAVE UP HIS GOLDEN CORE

Wwx: no need. Why use spiritual energy for such a small wound. I can just sit here and let it heal on its own

LOL, WE’RE GETTING A FUN BIT HERE TO MAKE UP FOR ALL THAT SERIOUS STUFF BEFORE

Wen Qing walks in and is all, what, my badass doctor skills aren’t good enough for you? I could totally heal you

Wwx: what are you doing here interrupting my date with lwj. Are you done crying already?

Wq: i’ll make you cry

Wwx: pffft, yeah right

Wq: *goes and hits wwx in the back*

Wwx: *coughs up blood*

Yeahhh, i wouldn’t want to go toe-to-toe with wen qing unless she asked me to and then i would happily do whatever she wanted

Wwx: you’re so cruel! *swoons like some maiden*

Lwj: wei ying! *catches him all gallantly*

WWX YOU LITTLE FAKER, YOU JUST WANTED LWJ TO HOLD YOU

And we know this bc wen qing pulls out her Very Scary Medical Needles and wwx wisely RUNS AWAY even tho he was all “passed out” two seconds before

And after that fun bit, the show makes me sad about tea somehow. I don’t even like tea.

Wwx is all, wen ning, why are you serving our guest water?? How embarrassing, go get the tea!

And wen ning is all, but there’s no tea??

Then wwx is like, well we gotta get tea for next time we have guests

There’s a hella awkward pause

Wwx: that’s right, we won’t have any more guests…

THIS STUPID SHOW IS GIVING ME FEELINGS ABOUT TEA

MY ONE TEA OBSESSED FRIEND HAS BEEN TRYING TO MAKE ME FEEL STUFF FOR TEA FOR YEARS WITH NO SUCCESS

AND THIS, LIKE, TWO MINUTE SCENE MADE ME SAD ABOUT TEA

Anyway.

We cut to the next scene which has wwx walking lwj out of the burial mounds and we’re getting another Serious Conversation

Wwx: lan zhan, you asked me if i intended to keep things the way they are now. Tbh, i also would like to know what else i could do besides this.

Wwx: give up my crafty tricks and turn over Plot Device 2? What happens to the Wens? Do i turn them in? I can’t do that.

Wwx: i believe if you were me, you wouldn’t be able to do that either

WHY IS HE SUCH A GOOD PERSON. WWX IS BETTER THAN ALL THE OTHER CULTIVATORS PUT TOGETHER

Wwx: can anyone give me any better options? One where i can protect those i want to protect without using demonic cultivation?

He says this so passionately. HE JUST WANTS TO PROTECT PEOPLE. HE’S WILLING TO DO OTHER THINGS IF IT MEANS HE CAN STILL PROTECT PEOPLE BUT HE CAN’T!!! AND I AM DISTRESSED.

Lwj doesn’t say anything in response.

He knows wwx is right and there’s nothing he can do to make things better for him

Wwx: lan zhan, thank you for your company today. And thank you for telling me about my sister’s wedding

HE SAYS THIS WITHOUT LOOKING AT LWJ AND HE LOOKS LIKE EVERY WORD HIS HURTING HIM BECAUSE THEY’RE ALL WORDS HE’S USING TO SAY GOODBYE AND HE DOESN’T WANT TO SAY GOODBYE TO LWJ.

And before i can start crying, A-Yuan appears to make me feel better!!!

He’s latched onto lwj’s leg again (bc i mean, honestly, who wouldn’t??)

And he’s asking lwj to stay for dinner!!

Wwx: a-yuan come here. Lan zhan has his own food at home. He won’t be eating with us here.

A-yuan: but i heard a secret! I heard there was going to be lots of tasty food today!

Wwx scolds a-yuan for half a second before turning to look at lwj WITH THE MOST HOPEFUL EXPRESSION ON HIS FACE

HE WANTS LAN ZHAN TO STAY FOREVER FOR DINNER TOO

But for some unfathomable reason lwj looks at a-yuan and says that he is leaving.

WHY

YOU WANT TO STAY THERE TOO

WHY MUST YOU TWO MAKE THINGS SO DIFFICULT FOR ME YOURSELVES

Wwx gives this stiff, sharp nod like, yeah, of course of course, i knew that, this doesn’t kill me inside AT ALL

Lwj walks off and wwx + a-yuan make their way towards the burial mounds

A-yuan: will the rich man ever visit us again?

Wwx: what rich man?

A-yuan: the one from just now!

Wwx yoinks the toy butterfly from a-yuan’s hand here

Wwx: you really like him that much, don’t you?

And he holds the toy out of reach and teases him

A-yuan: give it back! He bought that for me

Wwx: no! I won’t give it back until you say i’m your favorite

And this entire adorable scene is being watched by lwj who is just a ways away 

I’d say he’s lurking like a creeper, but Hanguang-jun is too honorable and handsome to be called a creeper by anyone ever. 

BUT he is lurking. 

He looks all solemn

A-yuan tells wwx what he wants to hear and gets his toy back.

Unfortunately wwx’s distraction tactic didn’t work

A-yuan: so will the rich man come back or not?

Wwx: probably not

A-yuan: Why??

Wwx: there’s no reason why. In this world, everyone has their own paths to walk.

A-yuan: oooh

Lol, he nods like yeah, i totally understand what you’re telling me bc i’m a big kid who can know things. HOW CUTE!

AND HERE WE GET THAT QUOTE. THAT IMPORTANT ONE. THE ONE THAT IS LATER USED AS A PUBLIC LOVE CONFESSION.

Wwx: who needs the crowded, broad avenue? I’ll stick to my single-log bridge until it’s dark.

Lwj is still here, watching. And he hears wwx say this.

Lwj doesn’t turn to walk away for real until wwx and a-yuan are out of sight

HE WANTED TO SEE THEM FOR AS LONG AS HE COULD

I’M TOTALLY NOT TORN UP ABOUT THIS

I’M CHILL AND COLLECTED FOR REAL

Then we cut to wwx arriving back at the demon-subdue palace where there’s a surprise dinner party!! 

AND A-YUAN GETS SO ADORABLY EXCITED OVER THE ABUNDANCE OF FOOD, I LOVE IT SO MUCH i get excited about food too, a-yuan!!

This whole thing here is very sweet and this is when we really see wwx accept the wens as his family rather than as his moral obligation

As the @theuntamednarrator said, they gave him homemade liquor! That’s the one guaranteed way to our sunshine boy’s heart!!

It’s all super sweet, like i said, until wwx gets himself plastered. Then it takes a turn towards the Hella Depressing. 

I really want to skip over it because it really is HELLA DEPRESSING AND STILL MAKES ME LEGIT CRY ACTUAL TEARS EVERY TIME I WATCH IT 

but i can’t because it’s got some wangxiantics and this is a wangxiantics guide

So everyone at the dinner party drinks until they pass out, basically. 

Except for wen qing, who is completely sober, and wwx who is an alcoholic with an inhumanly high tolerance apparently

He’s all flushed and red-eyed tho

Wwx: wen qing, the first time i saw Lan Zhan was when i snuck Emperor’s Smile into the Cloud Recesses

He laughs here, remembering; it’s all cute here for a bit.

Wwx: it’s too bad you didn’t see his face, his stony face...but the emperor’s smile is really good. I wonder if i’ll ever get a chance to drink it again

And his entire demeanor changes here. He started out more or less cheerfully reminiscing about his first meeting with lwj but in that last bit his whole posture droops and he gets the saddest look on his face

Wen qing notices this, but is kind enough to pretend not to by focusing on wiping down that table.

Wwx: i’m a good for nothing

OH GOD

Wwx: i promised my sister i would help her hold the most splendid wedding in the world

FUCK, HERE COME MY TEARS

And wen qing fucking freezes here eVEN SHE KNOWS THIS IS GONNA HURT

Wwx: but now, i can’t even attend the wedding

Wwx: i’m completely useless, i am completely useless

SHIT, GOD DAMN IT, I DON’T FUCKING WANT TO CRY WHERE ARE THE GOD DAMN TISSUES 

Wwx: i am completely useless

HAVE MERCY, HAVE MERCY ON MY POOR HEART, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

So while i’m fucking sobbing out every ounce of moisture in my body, we cut to the cloud recesses and we see lwj kneeling in front of a set of closed doors

(we’re not going to dwell too long on that because i’m already in fucking shambles from two seconds ago and i can’t handle any more Family-Related Sadness right now)

He’s on his knees, with his arms outstretched holding two long, heavy bamboo sticks

There are disciples scurrying around and avoiding the scene, like oh shit, better not get in the middle of that

Lwj’s head is ever so slightly bowed, still as a statue, and completely blankfaced

And we get ~their song~ BUT WITH VOCALS THIS TIME

THE FIRST TIME WE HEAR THE VOCALS WITHIN THE SHOW

YOU KNOW

THE VOCALS THAT ARE SUNG BY THE ACTORS PLAYING OUR BELOVED LWJ AND WWX???

YEAH

THOSE VOCALS

BECAUSE I WASN’T FEELING ENOUGH INTENSE EMOTION YET

The scene starts off in the daylight and we see him enduring this punishment 

HOURS go by bc it’s dark and there’s a good inch of snow accumulated around him by the time some random lan cultivator dismisses him

Lwj gets up GRACEFULLY (bc that is his default mode, i guess?? HOW??) and there’s a literal patch on the ground completely devoid of snow bc that’s how long and still he kneeled there for, holy shit.

And he walks away calmly

There’s no more wangxiantics in this episode

But show-runners decided they didn’t want to COMPLETELY DESTROY OUR SOULS just yet so they give us an anticlimactic but kind of cute ending to the episode 

We get to see that there are “yiling patriarch disciples” who are actually frauds in terrible cosplay trying to sell mediocre talismans at high prices

and wwx is all “who the heck are these guys, wait, i don’t actually care”

We get to see that the wens are slowly starting to prosper in their little corner of the burial mounds

Also, somebody built a shrine and left food offerings at the entrance to the burial mounds?? Which, hey, wwx doesn’t say no to free food and neither do i because what kind of crazy person turns down free food??

And, i mean, that’s basically it?? Like i said super anticlimactic

SO WHO ELSE HERE IS SITTING IN A PUDDLE OF TEARS NOW? ANYBODY?? ANYBODY???? PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME CRYING BY MYSELF, THAT WOULD BE PATHETIC, I CAN’T HELP IT IF I HAVE A HEART FULL OF FEELINGS

Return to Masterpost

[vcg73]

Hummel Holidays 2017: Happy Solstice

Prompt #21 – Winter Solstice (also includes Movies, Candles, Traditions, and Family)

Rare-Pair: Is a trio today.  One Three Hill.  :)

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

 Sitting side by side on the living room sofa, hands folded in their laps like obedient schoolchildren, Dani and Elliott exchanged bemused glances.  Dani flicked the fluffy white faux-fur ball at the end of the red stocking cap she wore and said, “Thoughts?”

 Elliott played with one of the jingle bells dangling from his own red and green jester’s hat. “Santa had an opening for new elves and Kurt got us try-outs?”

 She laughed. “He’s in one of his fabulous hat design phases, but all the mannequins already had jobs at Macy’s?”

 “Someone forgot to pay the bills and this is Kurt’s way of warning us that the heat and power may go out at any second?”

 “No, that would be your apartment,” Dani said, flipping the long knitted scarf around her throat so that the fringed end smacked him in the face.

 Elliott fluffed his own fleecy red scarf with great dignity. “That only happened once.”

 She held up two fingers.

 “No, the first time was in summer and we just had a brown-out. That doesn’t count.”

 “Whatever.  So, back to subject number one. Why are we sitting on Kurt’s couch in the middle of the afternoon wearing silly hats and scarves?”

 Elliott shrugged. “Because he asked us to. And we’re both complete suckers for that big-pleading-eyes thing that he does.”

 She nodded. “He looks like a little puppy when he tucks his hands under his chin and gives you the big eyes. What can I say? I’m weak.”

 Shaking his head to make the little golden bells jingle, Elliott grinned crookedly and Dani laughed, acknowledging that she was not alone in that.

 “Oh, you guys look great!” Kurt interrupted, walking back inside his apartment from wherever he had disappeared to twenty minutes earlier after welcoming his two friends inside with a big smile, handing them each a hat and a scarf, then instructing them to put them on and wait for him. “Here. This is for you, Dani. And, Elliott, this one’s for you.”

 Elliott and Dani each accepted the gift bags Kurt handed them. Like them, Kurt wore a hat - a blue conical item with silver lace around the base and a silver bell at the tip – and a matching blue and silver striped scarf, and he carried a third larger bag. He set the bag on the floor in front of him as he helped himself to a cozy seat in between his two confused band mates.

 Looking from one side to the other, he smiled sweetly at them both. “Over the last year and a half, the two of you have come to mean a lot to me. You’ve been more than friends. You’ve stood by me when people I thought I could count on turned their backs. You’ve supported me and encouraged my ideas, even when other people said they were dumb. You’ve given me space to grow and support to change, when everyone else tried to keep me rooted in the past. And when the going got tough, you two just got closer and that means the world to me. You’ve become family to me, and so I thought it might be nice to share a very special tradition with you.”

 Dani and Elliott were both touched. Elliott cleared his throat and said, “Aw, man, that’s really . . . it was no more than you did for us, y’know?”  

 Dani did not even try to find words, she just latched onto Kurt and hugged him like she’d never let go. Finally, she dabbed carefully at the corners of her heavily made-up eyes and said, “So, what’s with the hats? Yours is awesome, by the way.”

 He grinned. “Thanks! I made it myself.  I’ll explain in a second. First, open your bags.”

 Eagerly, the two dug in, looking even more puzzled at the contents. The two were identical, each containing a candle, a gingerbread man, a brooch shaped like a pumpkin, a small basket filled with assorted snack foods, a bottle of wine and a plastic wine-glass.

 “Happy Solstice!” Kurt said, pulling a similar stash from his own bag, along with a dozen or so dvds, which he spread on the table in front of them.

 The other two grinned at the array of choices. “This is awesome,” Elliott declared. “I never participated in a Solstice party before.”

 “Me, either,” Dani said, picking up a video case to examine. “What gave you the idea?”

 Kurt gestured at the presents and said, “Well, as you know, I happen to be an atheist. My dad isn’t, but he also isn’t much of a church person, so he always encouraged me to go my own way with stuff like that. We continued to celebrate Christmas every year, but when I was about ten years old I read a magazine article about ancient pagan religions and how they influenced a lot of our modern-day holiday traditions. Rites concerning bounty, sacrifice, renewal, and so forth. Masquerades to disguise one’s self from evil spirits was also a big deal, but it’s too hard to watch movies wearing masks, so we went with funny hats and scarves instead.” He flipped the end of his in demonstration. “One of the biggest pagan festival times was the Winter Solstice, so that first year I talked my dad into figuring out a way to celebrate it, and we had so much fun with it that afterward we did it every winter that I lived at home. Until Dad got married again and we decided that having a pagan festival in our living room might seem a little too weird for Carole and Finn.”

 Dani picked up on the unspoken part of that statement. “Wait, so you’ve never shared this with anyone else before now? Other than your dad, I mean.”

 Kurt looked down at his hands, which were rolling the little apple-scented jar candle they held. “No. I kept thinking that maybe I would share it with Rachel one day, or with Blaine, but it just never felt right somehow. I think if Adam and I had lasted longer, I would have shared it with him but, well, things happened and . . .” He sighed, the sound filled with regret for what might have been.

 “And now you’re in a different place in your life,” Elliott said, voice filled with encouragement, not willing to let Kurt dwell on sad thoughts. “You’re giving single life a try, and concentrating on other things. You’ve started living without constant reminders of the past, and moving on with other people, and other things. So basically, this year you have a bounty of friends, a sacrifice of old dreams, and a renewal of going after the things that make you happy, instead of just going along with whatever makes everyone else happy. Am I right?”

 Even Kurt looked surprised at his easy summation. “I suppose you are. I hadn’t quite thought of it like that.” He picked up one of the movie cases and waved it. “At any rate, most of our family tradition involved eating and drinking; though it was sparkling cider when I was a kid; and watching non-traditional Christmas movies together.”

 Dani laughed. “Is that what these are? I’ve been trying to figure out what ‘Die Hard’, ‘Lethal Weapon’, ‘Trading Places’, and ‘Meet Me in Saint Louis’ all had in common.”

 “They all take place during Christmas, that’s right,” Elliott said, nodding and making his hat ring merrily. “And you said you started this tradition with your dad. Having met Burt, I can totally see why you would have some ‘80’s action movies in the mix.”

 “And the older movies are to honor my mom, who adored the classics,” Kurt explained as Dani picked up an old Humphrey Bogart film called ‘We’re No Angels’, raising an eyebrow as she read the description on the back. “That one’s a comedy about murderous convicts, believe it or not.”

 Elliott snorted. “I think I need to see that one. Oooh, you have ‘Gremlins’! I love that movie. Oh, geez, and ‘Batman Returns’. Isn’t that the kind of horrible one with Danny DeVito as the Penguin?”

 Dani snatched the box from his hand. “And Michelle Pfeiffer in the skintight leather cat suit!  I vote we watch this first.”

 Both men laughed, but Kurt obligingly got up to put the disc in. He paused to set up his laptop on a TV tray nearby, plugging in the charger and then pulling up a waiting website showing a continuous loop of a log burning merrily in a fireplace. “Yule log,” he said.

 Kurt offered no further explanation, but the others just nodded and started divvying up the goodies as their movie began to play. Scented candles were lit, wine was poured, and snacks were evenly divided as the three of them piled together on the couch and happily spent the first of what they all secretly hoped would be many happy family Solstices together.

 THE END

[michaelfallcon]

In Amsterdam, The Latest From Friedhats Coffee Is A Big FUKU

It’s true that 2018 WBC second runner-up Lex Wenneker and his business partner Dylan Sedgwick named their new cafe—FUKU—after the Japanese term for “good fortune.” If you speak with them, Wenneker, a three-time Dutch barista champion, will tell you how as a visitor to Japan he was impressed by all the small spaces where each day a single individual “puts the same attention in every cup.” In the same breath Sedgwick, a New Zealander with much international coffee experience, might cite Japanese craft precision as “inspiration for our workflow.” But if you’re like me, you might have doubts. The explanation’s a touch too cute for these two.

These are, after all, the guys behind Friedhats Coffee Roasters, a name they gleefully admit has led confused consumers to believe the company deals in French fries and attracted email spam targeted at milliners. What’s more, Friedhats’ aesthetic—most obvious in its packaging but now also at FUKU—might be summarized as ska-meets-psychedelica in a Roy Lichtenstein palette. Any way you cut it, their goofiness and subversion are colorful, contradicting any “expectations that we were gonna do something super chic and Berlin-style,” as Sedgwick puts it.

So while the cafe FUKU is pronounced to rhyme with “cuckoo,” it seems its nomenclature arose from the same place it does when the four-letter word is carved into an elementary school bathroom stall: frustration.

“There was a point that I was pissed off at the whole [coffee] thing… I was gonna quit,” Wenneker tells me. “I just got back from the WBC in Dublin and everything was normal again, and I just couldn’t hear one more complaint about the light-roasted coffee. People didn’t get it. I just couldn’t do it anymore, and that’s when I wanted to stop.”

He continues: “Then we decided to look for a cafe again, as a solution—to have something new to do. And as a joke, I wanted to call it ‘the Friedhats’ Fuck You Cafe.’”

His defiance was likely sparked earlier, by the shuttering of Headfirst, a micro-roastery Wenneker co-ran and where he and Sedgwick started working together. Its closure came suddenly after Amsterdam authorities accused the venue of violating rules about what it could sell as a designated retail spot rather than a food and drink vendor. That was in late 2015, when Headfirst, at just two years old, was quite popular among locals and coffee tourists.

In fact, the name Friedhats is no enigma—it is an anagram. Scrambling the letters of “headfirst” has provided at least a linguistically sentimental reincarnation of the old business. As for FUKU’s present-day semantic scrambling—the idea came from much closer than Japan.

“He was in Paris and he saw this place called ‘Fuku,’” recalls Wenneker about Sedgwick. “It kinda says ‘fuck you’ but not really.”

“A sushi place,” his partner specifies.

All that said, guests at FUKU, which opened in September, get no sense of being rebuffed or shooed. Before even going inside the cafe, a sight of delight appears on an entranceway door: a vintage column of feeder trays from legendary Dutch automat chain FEBO. Today, instead of hamburgers or krokets, they dispense coffee beans in Friedhats’ signature plastic jar packaging (nominated for a 2018 Sprudgie Award).

Wenneker and Sedgwick built the bar themselves, leaving a large façade for their illustrator (and part-time barista) Ivo Janss. The most prominent equipment is a rare Kees van der Westen three-group Mistral. There are three grinders: a Mahlkönig EK43, an Anfim Super Caimano Barista, and an ever-so R2D2-esque Lyn Weber EG1. Around the bend is a moss green Slayer Single Group, which patrons can get a courtside view of when seated in the front window.

Asked if his past titles up the pressure to perform in everyday work, Wenneker is candid, mentioning some particularly painful early feedback.

“There was this guy who came in. He was like, ‘Ah, I expected a bit more because he’s the almost-World Barista Champion, and it was just like a nice coffee that I got.’ It hit me quite hard,” he admits, with a good-natured laugh.

“Don’t come with too-high expectations,” Sedgwick half-jokes.

“Nah, that’s not true,” says Wenneker. “We’re doing something new now, I think, in the cafe with the long list of coffees that are available for espresso and filter. I don’t think any cafe in Amsterdam has that.”

Most remarkable is the menu’s “Super Specials” subsection, described by Wenneker as “coffees you just don’t find anywhere because they’re very expensive” and “usually rare or hard to obtain.” Often competition coffees, they are standardly prepared by V60 and cost 7.50 euros. On a recent visit, that list included Brazil Daterra Laurina, Colombia Gesha X.O., Colombia Sudan Rume, and Ethiopia Gesha Village.

Because they have all the necessary licenses, FUKU can serve alcohol—the wines lean towards natural and French—and food; the venue has begun with short hours and easy-to-eat carbohydrates, but eventually plans to stay open well past sunset. The back patio, with an overhang, is ready for warm even if wet days.

Wenneker and Sedgwick have two part-time staff, and Wenneker’s brother is their accounts manager. Still, the pair works six days a week, splitting their time between cafe and roastery. The latter, which they moved into in September, occupies a section of shared space in a hangar-like unit. Compared to the former roastery, it is the boondocks, though has no shortage of storage or parking for the new company car, a secondhand Volvo wagon used for local coffee deliveries. Most international orders are sent within Europe, though the US and Canada are catching on, they report.

Meanwhile, Wenneker maintains he is done competing. Earned in June 2018 at the WBC held only six kilometers south of FUKU, his latest, second place, ranking satisfies in far more ways than I expected to hear.

Lex Wenneker

He explains: “If you get first place, you have all these obligations, you have to go everywhere, people expect you to show up for stuff. We were already talking about the cafe, so we knew we couldn’t really do that. So before the whole competition started I was like, ‘Yeah, second. I’ll go for second.’”

“I was really happy,” says Wenneker of the outcome. “Second place is kind of what I really aimed for.”

The response is quintessentially Dutch: modest, pragmatic, evenhanded. It is also an elegant way of celebrating one’s good fortune while still issuing, to the powers that be, a big FU.

FUKU is located at Bos en Lommerweg 136 HS, Amsterdam. Visit Friedhats’ official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Karina Hof is a Sprudge staff writer based in Amsterdam. Read more Karina Hof on Sprudge. 

The post In Amsterdam, The Latest From Friedhats Coffee Is A Big FUKU appeared first on Sprudge.

In Amsterdam, The Latest From Friedhats Coffee Is A Big FUKU published first on https://medium.com/@LinLinCoffee

[epchapman89]

In Amsterdam, The Latest From Friedhats Coffee Is A Big FUKU

It’s true that 2018 WBC second runner-up Lex Wenneker and his business partner Dylan Sedgwick named their new cafe—FUKU—after the Japanese term for “good fortune.” If you speak with them, Wenneker, a three-time Dutch barista champion, will tell you how as a visitor to Japan he was impressed by all the small spaces where each day a single individual “puts the same attention in every cup.” In the same breath Sedgwick, a New Zealander with much international coffee experience, might cite Japanese craft precision as “inspiration for our workflow.” But if you’re like me, you might have doubts. The explanation’s a touch too cute for these two.

These are, after all, the guys behind Friedhats Coffee Roasters, a name they gleefully admit has led confused consumers to believe the company deals in French fries and attracted email spam targeted at milliners. What’s more, Friedhats’ aesthetic—most obvious in its packaging but now also at FUKU—might be summarized as ska-meets-psychedelica in a Roy Lichtenstein palette. Any way you cut it, their goofiness and subversion are colorful, contradicting any “expectations that we were gonna do something super chic and Berlin-style,” as Sedgwick puts it.

So while the cafe FUKU is pronounced to rhyme with “cuckoo,” it seems its nomenclature arose from the same place it does when the four-letter word is carved into an elementary school bathroom stall: frustration.

“There was a point that I was pissed off at the whole [coffee] thing… I was gonna quit,” Wenneker tells me. “I just got back from the WBC in Dublin and everything was normal again, and I just couldn’t hear one more complaint about the light-roasted coffee. People didn’t get it. I just couldn’t do it anymore, and that’s when I wanted to stop.”

He continues: “Then we decided to look for a cafe again, as a solution—to have something new to do. And as a joke, I wanted to call it ‘the Friedhats’ Fuck You Cafe.’”

His defiance was likely sparked earlier, by the shuttering of Headfirst, a micro-roastery Wenneker co-ran and where he and Sedgwick started working together. Its closure came suddenly after Amsterdam authorities accused the venue of violating rules about what it could sell as a designated retail spot rather than a food and drink vendor. That was in late 2015, when Headfirst, at just two years old, was quite popular among locals and coffee tourists.

In fact, the name Friedhats is no enigma—it is an anagram. Scrambling the letters of “headfirst” has provided at least a linguistically sentimental reincarnation of the old business. As for FUKU’s present-day semantic scrambling—the idea came from much closer than Japan.

“He was in Paris and he saw this place called ‘Fuku,’” recalls Wenneker about Sedgwick. “It kinda says ‘fuck you’ but not really.”

“A sushi place,” his partner specifies.

All that said, guests at FUKU, which opened in September, get no sense of being rebuffed or shooed. Before even going inside the cafe, a sight of delight appears on an entranceway door: a vintage column of feeder trays from legendary Dutch automat chain FEBO. Today, instead of hamburgers or krokets, they dispense coffee beans in Friedhats’ signature plastic jar packaging (nominated for a 2018 Sprudgie Award).

Wenneker and Sedgwick built the bar themselves, leaving a large façade for their illustrator (and part-time barista) Ivo Janss. The most prominent equipment is a rare Kees van der Westen three-group Mistral. There are three grinders: a Mahlkönig EK43, an Anfim Super Caimano Barista, and an ever-so R2D2-esque Lyn Weber EG1. Around the bend is a moss green Slayer Single Group, which patrons can get a courtside view of when seated in the front window.

Asked if his past titles up the pressure to perform in everyday work, Wenneker is candid, mentioning some particularly painful early feedback.

“There was this guy who came in. He was like, ‘Ah, I expected a bit more because he’s the almost-World Barista Champion, and it was just like a nice coffee that I got.’ It hit me quite hard,” he admits, with a good-natured laugh.

“Don’t come with too-high expectations,” Sedgwick half-jokes.

“Nah, that’s not true,” says Wenneker. “We’re doing something new now, I think, in the cafe with the long list of coffees that are available for espresso and filter. I don’t think any cafe in Amsterdam has that.”

Most remarkable is the menu’s “Super Specials” subsection, described by Wenneker as “coffees you just don’t find anywhere because they’re very expensive” and “usually rare or hard to obtain.” Often competition coffees, they are standardly prepared by V60 and cost 7.50 euros. On a recent visit, that list included Brazil Daterra Laurina, Colombia Gesha X.O., Colombia Sudan Rume, and Ethiopia Gesha Village.

Because they have all the necessary licenses, FUKU can serve alcohol—the wines lean towards natural and French—and food; the venue has begun with short hours and easy-to-eat carbohydrates, but eventually plans to stay open well past sunset. The back patio, with an overhang, is ready for warm even if wet days.

Wenneker and Sedgwick have two part-time staff, and Wenneker’s brother is their accounts manager. Still, the pair works six days a week, splitting their time between cafe and roastery. The latter, which they moved into in September, occupies a section of shared space in a hangar-like unit. Compared to the former roastery, it is the boondocks, though has no shortage of storage or parking for the new company car, a secondhand Volvo wagon used for local coffee deliveries. Most international orders are sent within Europe, though the US and Canada are catching on, they report.

Meanwhile, Wenneker maintains he is done competing. Earned in June 2018 at the WBC held only six kilometers south of FUKU, his latest, second place, ranking satisfies in far more ways than I expected to hear.

Lex Wenneker

He explains: “If you get first place, you have all these obligations, you have to go everywhere, people expect you to show up for stuff. We were already talking about the cafe, so we knew we couldn’t really do that. So before the whole competition started I was like, ‘Yeah, second. I’ll go for second.’”

“I was really happy,” says Wenneker of the outcome. “Second place is kind of what I really aimed for.”

The response is quintessentially Dutch: modest, pragmatic, evenhanded. It is also an elegant way of celebrating one’s good fortune while still issuing, to the powers that be, a big FU.

FUKU is located at Bos en Lommerweg 136 HS, Amsterdam. Visit Friedhats’ official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Karina Hof is a Sprudge staff writer based in Amsterdam. Read more Karina Hof on Sprudge. 

The post In Amsterdam, The Latest From Friedhats Coffee Is A Big FUKU appeared first on Sprudge.

seen 1st on http://sprudge.com

[mrwilliamcharley]

In Amsterdam, The Latest From Friedhats Coffee Is A Big FUKU

It’s true that 2018 WBC second runner-up Lex Wenneker and his business partner Dylan Sedgwick named their new cafe—FUKU—after the Japanese term for “good fortune.” If you speak with them, Wenneker, a three-time Dutch barista champion, will tell you how as a visitor to Japan he was impressed by all the small spaces where each day a single individual “puts the same attention in every cup.” In the same breath Sedgwick, a New Zealander with much international coffee experience, might cite Japanese craft precision as “inspiration for our workflow.” But if you’re like me, you might have doubts. The explanation’s a touch too cute for these two.

These are, after all, the guys behind Friedhats Coffee Roasters, a name they gleefully admit has led confused consumers to believe the company deals in French fries and attracted email spam targeted at milliners. What’s more, Friedhats’ aesthetic—most obvious in its packaging but now also at FUKU—might be summarized as ska-meets-psychedelica in a Roy Lichtenstein palette. Any way you cut it, their goofiness and subversion are colorful, contradicting any “expectations that we were gonna do something super chic and Berlin-style,” as Sedgwick puts it.

So while the cafe FUKU is pronounced to rhyme with “cuckoo,” it seems its nomenclature arose from the same place it does when the four-letter word is carved into an elementary school bathroom stall: frustration.

“There was a point that I was pissed off at the whole [coffee] thing… I was gonna quit,” Wenneker tells me. “I just got back from the WBC in Dublin and everything was normal again, and I just couldn’t hear one more complaint about the light-roasted coffee. People didn’t get it. I just couldn’t do it anymore, and that’s when I wanted to stop.”

He continues: “Then we decided to look for a cafe again, as a solution—to have something new to do. And as a joke, I wanted to call it ‘the Friedhats’ Fuck You Cafe.’”

His defiance was likely sparked earlier, by the shuttering of Headfirst, a micro-roastery Wenneker co-ran and where he and Sedgwick started working together. Its closure came suddenly after Amsterdam authorities accused the venue of violating rules about what it could sell as a designated retail spot rather than a food and drink vendor. That was in late 2015, when Headfirst, at just two years old, was quite popular among locals and coffee tourists.

In fact, the name Friedhats is no enigma—it is an anagram. Scrambling the letters of “headfirst” has provided at least a linguistically sentimental reincarnation of the old business. As for FUKU’s present-day semantic scrambling—the idea came from much closer than Japan.

“He was in Paris and he saw this place called ‘Fuku,’” recalls Wenneker about Sedgwick. “It kinda says ‘fuck you’ but not really.”

“A sushi place,” his partner specifies.

All that said, guests at FUKU, which opened in September, get no sense of being rebuffed or shooed. Before even going inside the cafe, a sight of delight appears on an entranceway door: a vintage column of feeder trays from legendary Dutch automat chain FEBO. Today, instead of hamburgers or krokets, they dispense coffee beans in Friedhats’ signature plastic jar packaging (nominated for a 2018 Sprudgie Award).

Wenneker and Sedgwick built the bar themselves, leaving a large façade for their illustrator (and part-time barista) Ivo Janss. The most prominent equipment is a rare Kees van der Westen three-group Mistral. There are three grinders: a Mahlkönig EK43, an Anfim Super Caimano Barista, and an ever-so R2D2-esque Lyn Weber EG1. Around the bend is a moss green Slayer Single Group, which patrons can get a courtside view of when seated in the front window.

Asked if his past titles up the pressure to perform in everyday work, Wenneker is candid, mentioning some particularly painful early feedback.

“There was this guy who came in. He was like, ‘Ah, I expected a bit more because he’s the almost-World Barista Champion, and it was just like a nice coffee that I got.’ It hit me quite hard,” he admits, with a good-natured laugh.

“Don’t come with too-high expectations,” Sedgwick half-jokes.

“Nah, that’s not true,” says Wenneker. “We’re doing something new now, I think, in the cafe with the long list of coffees that are available for espresso and filter. I don’t think any cafe in Amsterdam has that.”

Most remarkable is the menu’s “Super Specials” subsection, described by Wenneker as “coffees you just don’t find anywhere because they’re very expensive” and “usually rare or hard to obtain.” Often competition coffees, they are standardly prepared by V60 and cost 7.50 euros. On a recent visit, that list included Brazil Daterra Laurina, Colombia Gesha X.O., Colombia Sudan Rume, and Ethiopia Gesha Village.

Because they have all the necessary licenses, FUKU can serve alcohol—the wines lean towards natural and French—and food; the venue has begun with short hours and easy-to-eat carbohydrates, but eventually plans to stay open well past sunset. The back patio, with an overhang, is ready for warm even if wet days.

Wenneker and Sedgwick have two part-time staff, and Wenneker’s brother is their accounts manager. Still, the pair works six days a week, splitting their time between cafe and roastery. The latter, which they moved into in September, occupies a section of shared space in a hangar-like unit. Compared to the former roastery, it is the boondocks, though has no shortage of storage or parking for the new company car, a secondhand Volvo wagon used for local coffee deliveries. Most international orders are sent within Europe, though the US and Canada are catching on, they report.

Meanwhile, Wenneker maintains he is done competing. Earned in June 2018 at the WBC held only six kilometers south of FUKU, his latest, second place, ranking satisfies in far more ways than I expected to hear.

Lex Wenneker

He explains: “If you get first place, you have all these obligations, you have to go everywhere, people expect you to show up for stuff. We were already talking about the cafe, so we knew we couldn’t really do that. So before the whole competition started I was like, ‘Yeah, second. I’ll go for second.’”

“I was really happy,” says Wenneker of the outcome. “Second place is kind of what I really aimed for.”

The response is quintessentially Dutch: modest, pragmatic, evenhanded. It is also an elegant way of celebrating one’s good fortune while still issuing, to the powers that be, a big FU.

FUKU is located at Bos en Lommerweg 136 HS, Amsterdam. Visit Friedhats’ official website and follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

Karina Hof is a Sprudge staff writer based in Amsterdam. Read more Karina Hof on Sprudge. 

The post In Amsterdam, The Latest From Friedhats Coffee Is A Big FUKU appeared first on Sprudge.

from Sprudge http://bit.ly/2D796Wh

[thedailychangejar-blog]

April 2018 Blog Income Report: $38.29

This post contains affiliate links, which means that if you click on one of the product links, I’ll receive a commission or other benefit at no additional cost to you. Thank you for supporting The Daily Change Jar. I am simply amazed at how quickly things can turn around when it comes to blogging. Making one little tweak on your site or writing a certain kind of post can completely change the game! So when I first started The Daily Change Jar I had a very specific goal in mind. I wanted to keep the site very gender neutral and not bring any personal branding into it, in case down the road I decided to sell the site. However, in an attempt to meet my goal of putting out 6 posts for the month of April, I went out on a limb and put together the 10 Frugal Dinners for When You're Broke post. Now, I personally love doing posts like this, for several reasons. They are quick and easy to write, I can write, publish, and promote it within a few hours (like during afternoon naptime). Which is great for that "quick win" feeling of actually getting something done! But I also love these types of posts because I also like to be able to promote other bloggers and be able to connect with them. So after publishing the 10 Frugal Dinners for When You're Broke I had a bit of an awakening. Within the first 30 days, this post alone got over 15,000 pageviews! You bet I looked like this lady when I was looking at my analytics! Considering the previous month I only had about 3,000 pageviews TOTAL! Originally I wanted to stay away from food and lifestyle posts, not that I have anything against them, but that wasn't my original vision for the blog. However, after seeing the stats for this post, I changed my mind. So after much consideration, I have decided to pivot the blog. I will be relaunching the blog with a snazzy new (more feminine) look, sorry guys ;-) But I hope the guys still stick around to read all of the great tips and tricks I have to offer on frugal living, saving money, and managing the money you already have, I'm looking at you Tyler!

As a serious blogger, it's not always about what you want to write about, it's what your audience wants to see. Which I why I have decided to expand the blog a big and include more "frugal living" topics, such as food and kids activities.

Review of Blogging Goals:

April was awesome! I feel like I really got a lot of stuff done and have been expanding my network a lot more.  Publish 6 blog posts I got a total of 5 published, that that was pretty good.  6 Strategies to Start a Successful Side Hustle 10 Frugal Dinners for When You're Broke March 2018 Blog Income Report: -$10.53 27 Frugal Pantry Staples for Keep on Hand for Quick and Cheap Meals 25 Mother's Day Gifts for $25 or Less That She'll LOVE! Even though I did kit my goal of 6 posts, I am pretty darn happy with the 5 I did get published. Complete the Billionaire Blog Club Course I have a TON of more content to go through with this course. There is actually a lot more than I originally anticipated, which isn't a bad thing! The first thing I really worked on with the course was going through the Pinterest modules. Then I really started tapping into the community within the course. After I have completed the course I plan on doing a really in-depth review for those of you who are interested in investing in an awesome blogging course. I do highly suggest if you are serious about blogging that you invest in some kids of course.

Income

Ads - $25.50 Media.net - $7.29 Adsense - $18.21 I finally hit my $100 payout threshold for Adsense! No to play the waiting game to actually get paid! I'm still trying to figure out ways to increase my ad income. I'm kind of surprised with the increase in pageviews, from 3,000 to 8,000 my ad income only increased by like $4 :-(. Affiliates - $82.69 Smart Asset - $5.49 ShopStyle - $4.06 Amazon Associate - $3.14 Bluehost - $65 PrizeRebel - $5 Interested in starting a blog and now sure what to do for hosting? Check out my post here on How to Start a Successful Blog: The Complete Newbie Guide

Gross Income = $108.19

Not too shabby! I was super excited to see that Bluehost affiliate sale come through! So one of the things about Amazon Associates that makes them different from other affiliate networks is how their cookies work. The downfall is their cookies are only 24 hours. Meaning, if someone clicks through your Amazon affiliate link to purchase something but they back out and don't return within that 24 hour period, you lose the sale. The cool thing about it is that you can get a commission from anything the person buys within that 24 hours. So let's say that you link to a book that would normally net you about $0.50. Then that customer decides to spend $1,000 on that shopping tip on other random things. As long as it is within that 24-hour window, you get a commission for that sale! However, don't encourage all of your friends and family to shop through your blog's Amazon affiliate links. Amazon has some kind of magical way of figuring that out and will determine that sale invalid. (Trust me, I've tried) Rather, encourage them to sign up for Ebates and do their online shopping through there! Your referrals get a $10 bonus and you get a referral commission! Plus, Ebates totally encourages their users to share referral links with friends and family! Want to learn more about Ebates? Click here! 

Pageviews

I was so freaking excited when I looked at my analytics this month!

So I logged onto my Wordpress dashboard around mid-April and saw something I had never seen before. The site stats section had a HUGE spike in it. Now I had never really paid that much attention to that part of the dashboard because it never really changed. But once I had seen the sudden spike in traffic, I had to dive deeper into this to see what was going on! Come to find out, as I have already talked about, the 10 Frugal Dinners for When You're Broke post really took off!

Expenses

My expenses remain the same pretty much every month. Total expenses = $69.92 I did purchase the course I talked about above, the Billionaire Blog Club, which I did end up getting on sale for $157 for 3 payments. That might seem like a like to spend when I'm bringing in that much, but I feel it is totally worth it! I have made some awesome new connections from the group, and even though I haven't made it all the way through the course, I've already learned a lot. If you want to know why I use these specific programs, you can check out this income report when I go into them in a lot more depth.  Total Net income=$38.29

Blogging Goals

I really want to keep this momentum going! I am going to try to do a few follow up posts to the 10 Frugal Dinners for When You're Broke. I already started with Crazy Cheap and Delicious Iced Coffee Recipes. I am going to try and find a post rotation that will work well. For example, if I am posting 6 times per month there will be 1 blog income report, 1 post about blogging, 1 post about making money, 1 post about frugal living, and 1 food-related post. And of course, highlighting seasonal trends! It all goes back to that content calendar that I still need to make :-/. Rebrand the blog So I have decided to give the blog a much more feminine touch and pivot a bit more towards frugal living type posts. Those have by far been my most popular types of posts. I am also going to be redoing the homepage, so for when someone lands on the homepage, they know exactly what this blog is about and where they should go. Continue to work on the Billionaire Blog Club course As I said before, there is a lot more to this course than I realized. I am going to do my best to finish this as soon as I can, but I have mostly been watching the videos in the car while waiting to pick up the kids. Now that BMX season has started up again, there isn't much "down time" in our house! ButI try to maximize my time as best I can. I have also been working on setting my strategic plan and 90-day goals using Trello, which can take a bit to get used to, but has been pretty helpful!

Small and Big wins for April

I thought I would add this section because it's important in the blogging world to celebrate even the smallest of accomplishments. ➡ I started a little mastermind group with another blogger from Canada. We meet on Google Hangouts every other Tuesday for about an hour and a half (drink wine) and bounce our ideas off of each other. This has been SO helpful in keeping myself accountable and getting insights from another experienced blogger. Don't be afraid to go out on a limb to ask someone to be your business bestie, accountability partner, or be in a mastermind group with you. The worst they can say is no. ➡ I got some "viral traffic" ➡ I made a commitment to invest in my blog with the Billionaire Blog Club. I consider this a win because this is the first blogging course I have actually paid money for. Also, my husband has been so supportive in this journey and him letting me spend money when I haven't made a whole lot yet is a BIG WIN in my book!

Top 10 Posts from March 

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What are your goals for May (blogging or otherwise)?

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[hooptrition]

The Auckland Experience

“I realize that it’s been said many times and in many ways but it’s rare to have such a group of old buggers that connect the way we do after all these years whether we see each other weekly on the court or occasionally to live like a GOB.”  - Anonymous 

It’s said that Australians generally treat New Zealand like the undiscovered gem in their own back yard. 

Thus it was somewhat unsurprising that eight years after the Grumpy Old Bears world odyssey began, the crew assembled in Auckland harbor (yes literally on the water) to defend the World title so expertly captured four years earlier in Torino. 

The familiar faces were mostly all on deck for the operation; The Owner, Ballarat Pau, Coach K, The Doctor, T Bone, The Californian Wine Mogul, Big Wave Don, The Sri Lankan Assassin and your correspondent. Added to that mix was Disco Steve, a GOB debutante plucked from the draft for his unique blend of silky skills on and off the floor. 

Opening night featured a trip to the Botswana Butcher to sample some of the protein offerings that the Kiwis have become so famous for and it wasn’t long before the hormone overload from the exquisite beef and lamb was working its magic. 

Despite being on tour as an age discrimination case waiting to happen and having guest appearances lined up for an anti-GOB Auckland outfit, the Assassin was off and running after a chance meeting at a traffic intersection en route back from our opening visit to Auckland Jurassic. 

Details of what happened over the next few hours at the very reputable Donny Doolan’s establishment are sketchy at best, with only cub reporter Bone in attendance. 

Trying to piece together incoherent statements such as: “he was dancing and gyrating in a way I’d never seen before” and “I was seriously concerned for him” is probably futile and suffice to say that Sri Lanka’s answer to Vincent Vega had thrown the gauntlet down for the trip. 

The games were quickly upon us and the first pool encounter was a comfortable-enough win over the Australian Hyenas 53-26.  Disco fitted in seamlessly to the minimally structured schemes, a wayward hook from Bone brought back memories of the massage oil incident and the Wine Mogul rolled back the clock for his patented ‘stop on a dime’ pull up. 

Astonishingly, the organisers had made a commitment to capture every game on video for posterity and soon the highlights were readily available as a tool for remembering and forgetting. 

The creative genius behind the owner had, in her always-appropriate way, hit just the right notes with the accommodation. 

The Old Testament Bears had the distinction of being housed dockside in Auckland harbor on the superbly appointed vessel the Templar, whilst the newer converts took their rest in nearby dry land luxury. 

The event itself was housed in and around the harbor just a short stroll from both places. 

Highlights included Fireworks smokehouse brisket burgers, where Pau recycled his request for Dickins cider to more than one unsuspecting teammate; the grey goose incident on the top deck that cascaded into a chance meeting with some Canadian footballers and Tasmanian netballers in Donny Doolan’s and left Big Wave in a parlous state the next morning; Jemma and Dave’s constant attention and beverage provision and a wondrous day trip to nearby Waiheke Island and Cable Bay Vineyards restaurant. 

The dialogue was as always, the seasoning for the tour and astute observations, long forgotten anecdotes and more recent war stories tied the days together. 

In truth, some of the best stuff just melted into the group dynamic, never to be seen again but some fragments are still front and centre: 

"The bigger the boat the more they pass to you" Coach K at the infamous top deck dinner. 

The very jarring observation of one of our fist visitors to the boat: "He’s handsome and has no depth…did I say that out loud?" 

The widespread adoption of George Constanza’s motto: "It's not a lie if you believe it" 

Game two came and went with T-Bone ticking New Zealand off the hook list in a 71-43 win over Hungarian Dream catchers. 

The Prawn juice aperitif samples our opponents provided are undoubtedly adorning home bars across the globe in preparation for the type of catastrophic world happening that would warrant its consumption.

Dinner at ‘Soul’ that night was another fantastic affair and flowed into a few customary refreshments, again just a stone’s throw from the Templar. 

Somewhere in the midst of this period Coach K got to detailing his missing tooth story and the differing approaches when in conversation with fellow GOBs and other competitors, a role reversal in traditional men’s entertainment clubs was theorized and  “Juri Duty” was officially welcomed into the language. 

Around this time Coach K headed back across the ditch for the Shire’s Coachella equivalent, the panorama of female teams from across the globe continued to float by and the rookie made a mockery of the notion that he was in any way lacking experience. 

The days had a wonderful rhythm…from sundrenched breakfast deck, to makeshift office, to NBA playoffs in the main lounge and then hoops and GOB recovery regimes. 

Old foes the Megabucks were next on the slate. 

The 65-41 win was relatively unspectacular save for Coach K seeing his average drop to 9 despite being 2000 miles away. Bone took the 100% award with a rolling hook on transition, Disco found some of his dance-floor mojo on the pine, the Doctor unceremoniously hacked Murray with his throat and/or teeth in a manoeuvre that was quickly coined the gooseneck foul and Pau did what Pau does in his role as the team’s “Big Fundamental”. 

Our young female referee was reduced to supportive astonishment at some of the guesses from her theoretically more senior partner but we soon adjourned to a dinner of chicken ribs and refreshments. 

The next game was an early morning affair against Brasil that inevitably got rather messy. Big Wave’s rebounding festival and an ultimately flawed flirtation with flawless shooting from Bone were the main takeaways from a 50-30 win. A donut watch was however enacted for the Wine Mogul until deep inside the last two minutes whilst, almost unnoticed, the owner continued to metronome it in from midrange. 

The aforementioned Cable Bay jaunt that day was perhaps most easily summed up by something Disco was overheard telling a friend back home at the winery restaurant: "I'm going to send you some photos and you won't believe how I'm rollin’." 

Philosophical questions inevitably find their way into the week and after reminding the team of the latest research updates on his prostate awareness theory, the Doctor then regaled us with tales of long forgotten Estonian school days. In a sense it’s no surprise that a priest would struggle to answer the young Doctor’s  "How many millimetres between heaven and hell?" query. The fact that the priest ultimately replied that people who ask questions like that go to hell speaks for itself. 

Back at the smoke house the next day, the owner dropped one of the standalone gems he’s become famous for: "There is no such thing as a good turnover." 

On Thursday the running hook reappeared in a 62-43 win over local team Basketball Times. Their chatty point guard was a nuisance in every sense but Big Wave was unguardable early on and the result was never in doubt. The Doctor missed his patented crayfish claw shot but made a thunderous baseline drive and finish in traffic that shocked pretty much the whole gym and the Bears were now 5-0 with co-coaches K and The Assassin managing minutes for Kazan.   

Kazan is a city in southwest Russia, on the banks of the Volga and Kazanka rivers. The capital of the Republic of Tatarstan, a semi-autonomous region, it's known for the centuries-old Kazan Kremlin, a fortified citadel containing museums and sacred artifacts…and a gnarly old hoops culture. 

The final against their familiar front line of very hefty moving screen setters and impossibly craft silver fox guards was a beauty. 

History will record that the Russians eventually got the money 60-54 in overtime but it was a knock ‘em down slugfest to the very end. Threes that might have sealed it, rimmed in and out as tantalizingly as a foiled 3 am casino rendezvous but Big Wave’s foul out was the final nail. 

Your correspondent took one in the ribs for the team in a vain attempt to either secure a loose ball or take out their astonishing scorer (Number 10) and only finished up searching for pain relief answers deep inside the doctor’s makeshift pharmacy bag.

It was fitting that one of Russians told T Bone they were coming to the Gold Coast even though he couldn't speak a lick of English. Maybe he meant coasting to gold??? 

Big Wave fittingly carried the flag for the weary GOBs on the last night at Jurassic for the real closing ceremony. 

On Sunday morning it was time to go when the Wine Mogul decided not to have eggs, the Doctor informed us he was going on the wagon and no NBA finals games were scheduled. 

The Wine Mogul got two pills from T Bone (now working on a pharmaceutical startup in opposition to the doctor) and prepared to position himself near the boarding gate to avoid a repeat of the “Sydney Incident”. 

The dispersal was underway. 

Rumblings for Alassio are strong as this piece goes to print and there’s possibly no stronger recommendation for that trip than Bone’s summation of a post Auckland GOB lunch in Sydney recently: 

“Awesome. Ended up late with Disco and a bunch of guys I didn’t know drinking free cocktails in a bar I can’t remember going to. Just your typical GOB’s outing.”