#I want a refund! I want another Sunday!!

[da-riya]

Can't believe how shit today was

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Three) (18+) / Part One | Part Two

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 6.9K / navigation / inbox

A/N: if you've been on my blog anytime since last year and you've heard me mention 'my big hangman fic', this is it! I've been working on Spring Fling for almost a year now, and I'm so excited to share it with you. I hope you enjoy this, and I'm glad so many new people are making their way into our top gun fandom because of twisters and Glen's role in it. Welcome, and enjoy!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Dinner is a tense affair, but by the end of it it feels less like walking on eggshells and more like walking around hard boiled eggs on the floor. There won’t be a goopy mess if you step wrong, but no one wants a squashed egg.

You and Jake seem to be getting on as friends, as long as you ignore all of the blatantly romantic elements of your current situation. You’re unfortunately subjected to a man beside you fingering his roommate beneath the table cloth, and you’re glad that Jake also agrees that despite being on a sex boat, that kind of thing is better done in private.

“Unless, of course, everyone’s into that,” He shoots you another one of his patented winks, and you delight in reaching across the table to steal the cherry off of his black forest cake.

“Hey! Oh, whatever,” He scoffs at your triumphant grin, reaching for his glass of wine. There’s not much left in the bottle; he’s a heavy pour and you didn’t bother counting his glasses- you just know he’s had more than one. His cheeks are just the slightest shade of pink, and you plan on snapping as many pictures as you can as soon as you can get him hazy enough to let you. 

“Here, Hangman,” You feign kindness, taking hold of the bottle and trying to line the neck up with the rim of his glass despite him pulling away, “There’s only a little bit left, finish it off so you don’t waste your money.”

“No, ‘can’t.” He insists, gulping the rest of what’s in his glass in a manner rather contradictory to his words, “Gotta sober up again if we’re going out tonight.”

“I’m going out tonight,” You remind him firmly, finding woozy, pliant Jake much easier to talk to than sharp-as-a-tack Hangman, “You were all set to head to bed earlier; I thought you were some sort of kissing fiend on wine.”

“That’s why I’m soberin’ up, darlin’.” Jake drawls, and though he’s blinking slower than normal, his tone indicates that you’re the stupid one.

“Can’t be much of a security guard if my eyes are goin’ all dizzy,” He says, his tongue lazing into a southern twang that’s sharper when he’s oiled up with booze.

“Security guard?” You echo incredulously, “Hangman, what possessed you to think I’d need a security guard? I’m in the Navy, we both know how to aim between the eyes.”

“No, you know how to aim between the legs,” Jake licks the bitter wine residue from his lips, most likely tasting a sweet tinge of chocolate there, too, “I just don’t feel right leavin’ you with that Daniel guy.”

“He’s nice.” You speak with a tight clench to your teeth, and though you have to separate them to fit your dessert fork into your mouth, they still feel tense. You supplement the need to snap at him by grinding the pastry dough on your tongue into shreds with your molars. Perhaps you’re brutalizing your pie instead of enjoying it, but you’re not in much of a state to enjoy anything right now, except maybe liquor.

“If you’re not gonna drink this, I will,” You secede, waving the bottle at him, “If I’ve gotta spend the night with you I don’t wanna remember it.”

“Finally,” He scoffs, reaching now for his water glass where it’s sweating on the table cloth. His cold, calculating smooth-talk has been reduced to a petulant fit, “Only reason I bought the damn wine was for you, ‘then you had to make a big fuss about it, ‘n all of a sudden you’re suckin’ it down just ‘cause I’m gonna crash your little date later.”

“Yes, yes, it’s all very unfair, Hangman,” You drawl, the only thing stopping you from drinking straight from the bottle being the elegant setting around you, “I’m unreasonable and I think you should ask someone to switch roommates because you can’t stand me.”

“Oh, nice try,” He levels you with a glare, water beading at the corners of his lips as his hand trembles slightly around the glass, “That’s that reverse psychology bullshit. Nah, I can handle you. You jus’ need a good kiss, that’s all.”

Annoyance prickles in your chest; he’d been shaming you for kissing earlier, now he’s prescribing it?

“Oh, really? Do tell.”

“Mhm.” He nods, his eyes slipping shut as he braces his hand against his forehead, elbow on the table to support his weight. He looks pitiful- like he’d worked 14 hours and not like a man on vacation. Perhaps the water is working, loosening the effects of the sweet wine and leaving him drained in its wake.

“It would calm you down, I think.” He mumbles, somewhere hazy between sleep and wake, “Jus’ gotta arm wrestle Damien for it.”

“Daniel.”

“Whatever.”

--

Jake has mostly sobered up by the time that you’re all four bathed in multicolored strobe lighting one deck down from the restaurant. He’s sticking to strictly water now which is bringing his awareness back, but he has to take trips to the bathroom every ten minutes. You don’t mind- you appreciate having the time alone with Daniel.

“So,” He hums, hands framing your waist and chest pressed to your own, “He’s a little protective, isn’t he? You guys have a thing going on?”

“No thing.” You snap, “There’s no thing going on between us.”

“He acts like there is,” Daniel muses, and it’s somewhere between disappointed and resentful. But his hands never stray from your skin, so you hope it’s not directed at you.

“He just- he likes to be the best in everything,” You explain, the words escaping in a sigh, “You should see him in the cockpit, he’s insufferable. ‘Always has to win. I think that’s all it is, Daniel. And- for him to win, I’d have to lose. So I think he’s trying to bully you away from me, then he can boast about how I’m lonely and he’s not. He does it all the time back home.”

Daniel’s face curves into a frown, “He seems like a douche. ‘Like the kinda guy you should stay away from.”

“Trust me, I’m trying to stay away from him,” You scoff, tucking your nose against Daniel’s chest while the music lulls into a more heartfelt melody, “But for the next seven days we’re stuck on a boat together.”

“At least Danica likes him. Maybe we can unofficially swap.” Daniel nods towards his roommate, who’s now offering Jake a beer where he’s just exited the restroom. 

You watch as he grins charmingly- the same one he’d leveled at you during dinner only an hour before, “No thanks, darlin’. I’ve gotta keep an eye on that one over there.”

The pair glance at you when Jake gestures, and you realize they’ve caught you staring when you hadn’t even realized you were doing it yourself. You press your face back against Daniel’s chest, a strange breed of embarrassment heating your cheeks. 

“You can drink,” You call to Jake, agonizing as you’d rather keep your voice to a low murmur against Daniel’s ear, “I don’t need to be babysat.”

At that exact moment the four shots you’d done of something they’d promised you was mild all flood to your ankle and weaken it so that it gives out under your weight. You stumble, your foot bending awkwardly as you shriek, gravity trying its best to drag you down to the scuffed floor.

Daniel’s eyes widen but he works quickly, and his strong arms brace against your back as he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. He glances over your shoulder at Jake who’d lunged forwards to catch you, and there’s a tightness in his jaw, a hardness in his eyes as he straightens up that spells irritation close to bursting. Daniel smirks at him.

“What were you saying?,” Daniel chuckles, letting you ease your hands off of him where you’d gripped tight to his biceps, “I’d make a ‘falling for me’ joke but it’d be so bad I’d throw myself overboard afterwards.”

“Sorry,” You bemoan the surely stinging handprints on Daniel’s toned biceps, “I didn’t mean to- aah,” You hiss, gingerly raising your tweaked ankle, “I rolled it or something, I’ll- ooh, I’ll be back. Just gonna ask the bartender for some ice.”

Both men step forwards to brace your weight against theirs- even Danica offers her hand, but you wave them off with a sheepish laugh.

“I’m okay, guys, really. I can walk, it just-” You wince, a twinge of pain shooting through your ankle, “It just hurts a bit. I’m gonna go sit in the bathroom for a minute with the ice on it, ‘see what that does.”

Daniel looks hesitant to leave you, but he lets you hobble to the counter. The bartender looks suspicious of your request at first, like you’re somehow cheating him out of profit by asking for six ice cubes in a plastic bag. But one glance down at your elevated ankle gets him moving, and he wraps it once in a paper towel before passing it over the counter.

The bathroom counter is not an ideal resting spot, but it does give you a chance to glance at your makeup in the mirror. It’s mostly in-tact, but you note that your lipstick has faded some, partially from pressing it to the rim of your glass and partially from pressing it to Daniel’s own mouth. You’d shared a few more dizzying kisses on the dance floor, and they make your rolled ankle worth it a thousand times over.

The ice bleeds condensation through the towel after only a few minutes, and you turn the package so the dry side is now pressed to your sore limb. You hear footsteps and you ensure that your dress is draped over your lap- sure it’s a sex cruise but no one wants to see you on display, and glance at the doorway to see who’d come in through the hall.

It’s Jake.

In the women’s bathroom.

“Hey!” You scoff, glaring at him while your fingers numb with cold, “Get out of here, you creep. This is the women’s bathroom.”

“I know. But you’re treating it like a hospital, so I’m gonna do the same. How’s your ankle?” He glances towards your foot braced on the counter, “Dalton can’t be that good of a dancer if he’s steppin’ on your feet the whole time.”

“First off, it’s Daniel. Second, I didn’t roll my ankle because he stepped on me, I rolled it because I’m drunk.”

A satisfied smile flits over Jake’s face, “So you do need babysitting, then?”

You neglect to respond verbally in favor of trying to melt his face off with your glare. It doesn’t work- in fact, his own expression only gets brighter.

“So, whaddya say we just drop right down on the tile and go for it?” He offers, gesturing towards the dingy bathroom floor, “Or- this counter might work,” He leans forwards to brace his biceps against it, shaking to no avail as the fixture stays tight.

“Oh, yes, that would be very comfortable,” You gripe.

“It could be.”

“Get out, Hangman.” You grimace, shifting the ice against your ankle, “I just wanna freeze this pain away and get back out there, and I think your presence is somehow making it hurt worse.”

“You really know how to make a man feel special,” He cocks his head slightly, leaning against the counter and glancing at your ankle, “Is it throbbing?”

“No. Just stings a bit.” You grumble, keeping your eyes off of his dress shirt and the way he’s rolled the sleeves up. It’s a pretty color, nice against his tan skin.

“Right.” He murmurs, voice similarly soft as the music leaks in muffled through the walls.

“You can go,” You nod towards the door, “I think Danica really likes you. Which is weird, because she’s heard you open your big fat mouth, and that’s usually what sends ‘em running.”

Jake rolls his eyes in an excellent impression of Penny’s daughter Amelia now that she’s in the throes of teenagedom. 

“Anyways, you should go and drink with her. Have fun,” You offer, hesitantly kind to him, “You might as well get lucky even if you got stuck with a prudish roommate.”

“You’re not prudish,” He narrows his eyes at you, “You and Devon dry-humped in an elevator.”

“Daniel!”

“You didn’t even deny it,” Jake mock-gasps, “I bet the two of you were rubbin’ up on each other-”

“Get out.”

“-from decks 1-8. Hey, what’s that Ed Sheeran line that Rooster likes? Up and comin’ like I’m fuckin’ in an elevator?”

“Get out!”

Your ice pack doubles as an excellent projectile, but Jake was raised with older sisters, and is fantastic at dodging things flying towards his face.

He catches it with that infuriating grin he’s always shooting at you, and he tosses it into the trash while extending his other hand as an offering towards you.

“C’mon, Roger Clemens, let’s get back out there, shall we? Or are you too drunk to stand?”

“I can stand,” You insist, ignoring his hand and sliding off of the counter onto your feet, though one protests the weight with a sharp jolt of pain up your leg.

“Sure,” He scoffs, once more rolling his eyes skyward as he grabs hold of your bicep anyways, hoisting part of your weight onto him, “Let’s just get outta here before a gaggle of you ladies decide they’re all going to the bathroom together. Why do you do that, by the way?”

“Oh, I dunno. Maybe because men have a habit of wandering in despite the clear sign on the door that says Women’s.” You glare up at him, but you let him help you hobble out of the bathroom.

“I go where I’m needed. You needed a medic,” He shrugs, angling you towards one of the barstools so that you can rest your weight again, “And you needed someone to tell you to stay away from that David guy.”

You snap your eyes shut instead of correcting Jake yet again, instead focusing on why he’s being particularly dickish this evening.

“Why do you care so much? He’s a nice man, why are you so angry that we’re connecting?”

“Because I don’t think he’s a nice man,” Jake’s face scrunches in a frown packed with judgment, “He defiled you in an elevator and he’s leaving his roommate high and dry.”

“No he’s not,” You scoff, “They’re dancing right now!” 

You jab a finger towards the pair now pressed together on the dance floor, ignoring the newly familiar tinge of jealousy in your chest when you see Daniel’s hands pressed to Danica’s waist just the same as they’d been to yours. It’s fine. You’re on a sex cruise; he signed a lot of contracts but monogamy wasn’t one of them.

“That’s worse,” Jake sneers, his hand sliding from your bicep to your back to steady you on the barstool, “He’s not loyal to either of you.”

“I don’t need his loyalty.”

“That’s not right. You should want loyalty. You don’t see me chatting up everyone’s roommates, do you?”

“You’re certainly friendly with Danica! And I don’t need your loyalty either, Jake!” You gush, voice raising, “Loyalty is for relationships! This is sex! Heated, messy, sloppy, dirty sex!”

Jake’s eyes dim of their usual fire, but you wouldn’t know it by the way his grin stays plastered in place. Then, slowly, bitterly, it fades, and he looks away towards a water ring on the surface of the bar, “Sex ain’t all there is in life. One day you’ll want loyalty.”

Your indignant laugh comes immediately, “Hangman, I can’t believe you of all people are lecturing me on loyalty. You’ve cycled through every tourist that makes the unfortunate mistake of wandering too close to the naval base. You’re not even loyal to your friends, why do you think we call you Hangman?”

The fire in his eyes is back, but it’s hot and not warm. Low blow. Maybe if you weren’t so drunk you wouldn’t have said it.

His jaw is tight when it opens for him to spit, “That’s ‘cause I ain’t got a girl I wanna be loyal to. And- and that Hangman shit is old, I don’t leave you hanging anymore. Not in the air, and not on the ground. Not after-”

Neither of you say it, but you both remember the sheer terror you’d felt when Bradley had gone down trying to save Maverick. How Jake had begged to be launched in a search and rescue, how they’d held him back until they were certain the two pilots were already on their way back. Like they didn’t want to risk one man to save two. Like Jake’s pleading wasn’t proof enough that they were more than just soldiers, more than just numbers, that they were people, too. You owe him that; he’d shown loyalty there, even if his pride had been hurt. Perhaps that proves his ego doesn’t win out, even if its what he likes to display.

“Fine.” You murmur, biting your cheek, “But- but just stay out of this, okay? If I wanna fool around with someone then I can, doesn’t matter if he won’t be here after this cruise is over.”

Jake’s face sours impossibly further, “Fine.”

He storms off through the crowd, and there’s a handprint-shaped cold spot on your back. 

You scoff at his dramatic display, but before the bartender serves you the drink you order in a huff, Daniel comes weaving towards you through the crowd.

“He asked to swap,” Daniel informs you, “And he called you my ‘side chick’.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” You take a bitter sip of your drink, eyes widening at the strength, “Oh, god, if I can even aim.”

“Aim?” Daniel asks, slight trepidation clouding his features, “You gonna punch him?”

“Nah, I’ll shoot him down in a fighter jet.”

It draws a laugh out of Daniel, and you enjoy the rich, warm sound. It sounds a little how your drink tastes, but it’s not as sour.

It’s just as intoxicating, though, and you let it make you dizzy as he takes your hands and spins you on the barstool to the rhythm of the music, dancing with you as much as you’re capable of.

--

“I think she’s one drink away from falling off of that stool,” Danica muses, and Jake’s eyes snap to her own where her head reaches his shoulder.

“What? Y/N?”

“Yeah. You’ve been staring at her for the last six songs.”

“Sorry.” Jake grimaces, “I didn’t mean to zone out.”

“It’s fine.” She pats his chest and god, it’s pathetic and oozing with pity, “She was giving you a hard time earlier?”

“She’s always giving me a hard time. Can’t just let me help her, she’s gotta make a big stink of everything.”

“Mm-hm,” She nods along, and Hangman begins wondering if this is how people feel when they speak to him. Patronized and condescended.

“Well, I don’t think she’s capable of giving you a hard time anymore,” She narrows in on the way you’re slumped against Daniel’s shoulder, face stretched into a permanent lazy grin, “You wanna head out for the night and get her to bed before she passes out?”

“I dunno,” Jake shrugs, but his eyes never leave your slouched frame, “I’m having a nice time dancing with you, doll.”

“No you’re not.”

He turns to her, brows furrowed, “What?”

“No,” She repeats, but there’s mirth in her voice instead of reprimand, “You’re not. You’re worried about her. You two are friends?”

“Something like that.” Jake hums, but pointedly never denies her accusations, “She’s just- pardon me for speaking ill of your roommate, Danica, but I don’t want him messing around with her.”

“Mm. So you’re her father?”

“No,” Jake’s face wrinkles, and he tugs his arm an inch tighter around her waist, “We’re friends like you said. Sort of. The kind of friends that are always at each other’s throats, y’know the type.”

“Oh. So fuckbuddies.”

“No,” Jake laughs, and it eases out some of the worrisome creases in his face, puts new, happier ones in his skin instead, “See, I suggested that this cruise partnership was a work’a fate, that it’d give us a chance to blow off some of our steam, but she won’t have it. So now I’m just a glorified babysitter.”

“Ooh, so you’re not even in the friendzone,” Danica grimaces, a dry smile on her face, “Well, Jake, for what it’s worth, I think she’s lucky to have you as a roommate. And as whatever sort of friend you are to her.”

Jake nods tersely, head still turned to watch the way Daniel keeps you upright with an arm around your waist. 

“She said-” Jake starts, then remembers he’s talking to a woman he barely knows, then remembers he’s got nothing to lose, “She said all this shit earlier about me not being loyal. Reliable, trustworthy, all that. And- I wasn’t, okay? I was a… not so great person. For longer than I’d like to admit. But,” His throat feels tight now, and it tenses in his jaw as Danica listens, “I’m not like that anymore. And I haven’t been for long enough for her to notice. If she’s lookin’, that is. Which- I guess she’s not. But I just thought maybe- I thought maybe she’d see it and we could be different. I still wanna tease her, of course. But at dinner she told me she thought I was just trying to ruin this for her. And I’m not,” His eyes gleam, not with tears but with something close and soulful as he blinks into Danica’s eyes, “I’m trying to make it better. I’m trying to make it the week of her life. The week of both of our lives. I’m just…” He hesitates, weighing the word on his tongue, “I’m afraid she won’t let me.”

Danica squeezes gently at his bicep through his dress shirt, and briefly mourns that the beefiest man on this ship is 100%, prime-time in love with you. She’d have loved to spend a night with him, but she kisses her chances goodbye as she smiles sweetly at Jake.

“You’re a good friend. You’re a very good friend, Jake. You’re trying to be very good at being much more than a friend. But she’s not seeing it, right?”

Jake nods, and she mimics the action, “So you need to show her. Show, not tell. Even if she’s resistant, even if she tries to gripe at you, it’s because she’s still seeing the man you used to be. And hey, maybe she won’t want the man you’ve become, even if you worked hard on becoming him. But there’s no reason to throw up your hands now, is there? Let her see the real you, then she’ll decide whether she’s willing to have you. Be patient. It’s all up to her in the end, so be this new-and-improved version of yourself, and she’ll take care of the rest. Okay? Remember, you’re a good friend.”

Jake nods at her reassuring words, steeling himself for a week of patience that he doesn’t typically possess.

Danica continues through the silence, “Aaand a good friend would make sure she gets back to her cabin before she blows chunks all over her hookup’s shoes, right?”

“Oh.” Jake’s eyes widen momentarily as his head jerks towards you - he’s only ever seen you upchuck twice before, both times after rowdy nights out with the group, but he is noticing a familiar pudge to your cheeks that can’t spell anything good. He’s tempted to let you ralph all over Daniel, teach you a lesson about mouthing off to people that are only trying to be nice- but that’s what pre-dagger squad Hangman would have thought. That’s old Hangman, the aviator who’d have sold his wingman out for fame and glory. Now he’s an entirely different Hangman, the one with a rope around his neck that tightens each time Daniel squeezes the pudge of your hip.

“Thanks, Danica,” He breaks away from her embrace with a kind, chaste smile, none of his usual toothy sleaze, “Hey, uh- enjoy your night with Daniel. Careful, though: I’ve heard he does terrible things in elevators.”

“I’ll keep it in mind!” She calls, her voice a melodious laugh as she waves goodbye at him, “Straight to bed, Jake! And leave water on the nightstand!”

“This ain’t my first rodeo,” He’s happy to let his southern drawl take over, nodding at her with a wink before spinning around to face you.

Daniel glances up at him, and his attempt at keeping a neutral expression over his face is valiant, but some of the wariness seeps through in the way that his arm tightens almost imperceptibly around your shoulders. Your eyes are desperately trying to stay open but they still lock onto Jake no problem, and you raise both of your eyebrows in what Jake is certain was an attempt to only raise one.

“Yes, Hangman?” You ask, your voice thick with booze, “You need somethin’?”

“You look like you’re about to need a trashcan,” Jake tentatively reaches for you, “C’mon, it’s gettin’ late. We should head back to the cabin for the night.”

Jake expects another jab about the nature of the cruise, but what he gets is drunken compliance, an easy reach of your hand for his own and a mumbled, ‘kay’.

“Hold on,” Daniel catches your waist, keeping you suspended between them, “You sure you can get her back okay?”

There’s a sharp tilt to his brow that makes Jake think Daniel’s not questioning whether he’s strong enough to carry you. The thought both offends and disgusts Jake, and he takes pleasure in swatting Daniel’s arm away from your hips to tug you into his embrace.

“She’s safe with me,” Jake scoffs, “But your roommate’s gettin’ lonely out there, Dallas.”

“It’s Dominic,” You gripe, the stench of liquor hitting Jake full-force now that your face is only inches away from his own, your forehead bumping his jaw.

Daniel hadn’t found Jake’s jab to be very funny, but a smile quirks the corners of his mouth at your slip-up, and he finally lets you go with a pat to the hip.

“You can call me any name you want, Y/N,” He offers, but his eyes pass darkly over Jake’s tense face, “So long as it’s not Jake.”

“No, no, he’s- he’s Jake.” You jab a sharp finger into Jake’s chest and he flinches back slightly, hissing at the contact.

“Good memory, darlin’.” Jake commends you, “Now let’s head for the elevators, m’kay?”

“I love elevators,” You sigh, no doubt remembering the feverish embrace you’d shared in one only hours prior, “Daniel, are you coming too?”

His face turns down in visible pain and he shakes his head, “No, I’m not. I’m gonna go find Danica - she’s probably looking for me.”

“She’s probably found someone else by now,” Jake laughs, haughty and biting, “I wouldn’t wait around for someone if they were hellbent on fooling around with someone else.”

“Really?” Daniel speaks like he’s snapping at Jake, gnashing and snarling like a fighting dog, “It seems like that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

The weight of your head slumped in the juncture between Jake’s neck and shoulder feels like shackles. 

For a moment the two men stare at each other, and if you weren’t slowly losing consciousness between them, they might have given into their tension-fueled urge to scrap like feisty teens. But you release a soft, tender sigh against Jake’s chest, and he hikes his arm up under your thighs instead.

“‘Gonna lift you, darlin’.” He informs you, waiting only a second before he scoops you into a bridal hold. Your head is quick to loll backwards at a grotesque angle, and before Jake can balance you out, Daniel reaches over to assist.

“Here, honey,” The man croons, nestling your head against Jake’s bicep, and he watches in abject horror as Daniel leans down to press his lips to your forehead, “We’ll see each other tomorrow, okay? I’ll find you.”

Jake is desperate to know whether your responding smile is dreamy from the liquor or from the sight of his face, “Mm, okay, g’night.”

“Night,” Daniel murmurs fondly, and Jake is all too happy to drag you away from him. 

“Slow down,” You plead when Jake is ten steps out of the bar and beelining for the elevators, “I’m gonna spew.”

“Not on me, please,” Jake jolts to a stop in the middle of the hallway, noting the rhythmic rocking motion of the boat and cringing, “Can I go for the elevator?”

“Slowly,” You mumble, and evidently you hadn’t heard his begging by the way you nestle your nose into his chest.

Upon hearing the ding of the elevator your eyes snap open, and you seem horrified despite having heard the word mere seconds before.

“Wait. No elevator.”

“What?”

“No elevator. Please, I can’t- ugh,” You groan, leaning away from Jake to hang your face over the ground beside him, “I can’t take the pressure of moving up in an enclosed space.”

“Well we’re one floor away from our room, how do you expect me to get you up there?” Jake gripes.

Approximately thirty seconds later he’s hauling you up a flight of agonizingly shallow stairs.

“This is bullshit.” Jake scoffs, “Should’ve had Daniel do this.”

“Dean,” You correct him, “His name is Dean.”

“No it’s not!” Jake laughs incredulously, rounding the corner to the second half of the staircase, “See, if you can’t even remember his name, you shouldn’t be foolin’ around with the guy.”

“What’s the name of the last woman you took home, Hangman?” You shoot him a glare with narrowed eyes where you’re still held in his arms, and he stops in his tracks to shoot you a menacing glance of his own while his chest heaves from exertion.

“Touche. That’s why I stopped foolin’ around with her, though. Couldn’t care enough to remember.”

“You never care,” You grumble groggily, and Jake tugs the both of you up the remaining four steps until he’s on your cabin’s level.

Your words are slashing relentlessly at a wound that’s been gaping for longer than Jake can remember. He thinks it's worse when you’re drunk- you’re shitfaced enough to forget your new boytoy’s name, but you still remember how shallow and vapid of a person Jake used to be.

“Right now, I care very deeply that you’ve got your room key with you. Or that you can reach mine; whichever works. You got it on you, darlin’?”

“This dress doesn’t have pockets,” You lament, “Where’s yours?”

“Uh.” Hangman glances over his shoulder, “Back pocket.”

Alcohol courses through your veins in the same quantity blood does when you reach with no inhibition for Hangman’s ass.

Jake’s eyes widen as he feels your fingers prodding and poking liberally around his dress pants, finally finding the pocket and slipping inside. He stays frozen solid at the door while you root around for his phone, finally pulling it out and squinting to focus on it as you bring it towards your face.

“Room key,” You pull out one of his debit cards out of the sleeve on the back, handing it to him expectantly.

“Uh- no, not exactly,” He strains to keep you suspended- he’s starting to wonder if you’ve got more muscle mass than he does, “The red one in the front, Y/N, that’s the room key. And I don’t have a hand to unlock the door with, so you’ll have to do that yourself.”

You toss his debit card onto the floor like it’s garbage.

“Hey! That’s- oh, just get the key.” He kicks it forwards, keeping it propped against the toe of his shoe while he waits for the door to open.

“Got it,” You drawl, and this time you’re right. You lean forwards without waiting for Hangman to move with you, and he nearly drops you where you’re aiming the keycard for the slot on the lock.

“Jesus, just- stick it in!” Hangman snaps, eyes on his debit card still discarded on the floor, “Let’s hope you never use a strap-on, you’ve got terrible aim.”

“I got it,” You grunt and a green light flashes while the lock clicks open. You manage to jiggle the door handle until the heavy slab of wood swings open, and Hangman is glad you’d remembered to leave a light on before you’d left.

He takes his final steps towards the bed and sets you down on the side he’d left open earlier. You’re too shitfaced to remember that you were vehemently opposed to sleeping in the bed earlier, and he’s glad for it when you sink willingly into the mattress, eyes fluttering closed, lashes resting over your cheeks.

“Hang on, ‘gonna get you some water. You- uh, change while I’m gone.”

He ambles off to the bathroom, and when he hears rustling outside the door he shuts himself inside to give you privacy. He decides to change into his own sleeping clothes, but it’s less of an outfit and more of a strip tease until he’s standing on the cool tile floor in nothing but boxers. He hadn’t planned on wearing much of anything for the entire week, and he definitely hadn’t packed sleeping clothes.

He fills a glass of water and knocks briefly on the inside of the bathroom door, “Hey Y/N, I’m coming out, m’kay?”

There’s no reply.

He assumes you’d shout at him if he tried barging in on you changing- in fact, you had only hours prior. He takes your silence as permission to exit the bathroom, but when he finds you curled up in bed, your dress is still on.

Evidently you hadn’t been changing.

“Y/N,” He groans, reaching out to prod tentatively at your shoulder, “No, don’t do this to me. Wake up, c’mon.”

Your eyes are firmly shut, glued there by booze.

“Shit.”

Jake sets the water on your square nightstand, ankles sturdy despite the rocking motions of the boat. He’s well used to being at sea, and it doesn’t make him unstable as he leans over to inspect your sleeping face. He can see your eyes flitting this way and that, barely covered by the thin skin of your lids, and he marvels at your drunken ability to knock out like you’ve been concussed mere minutes after hitting the mattress.

He lifts your arm and when he lets go it falls pathetically over your chest - there’s no waking you.

“Okay,” Jake grimaces, reaching for one of the straps of your dress, “For the record, I don’t wanna be doin’ this.”

“If you were awake you’d be yellin’ at me for breathing towards you,'' Jake rambles, a running dialogue making him feel slightly better about stripping you naked in your sleep, “But if you wake up tomorrow in this deathtrap you’re gonna be pissed, so I’m doin’ what I think is best. I swear it’s not a ploy to stick my hand down your shirt.”

And- speaking of sticking his hand down your shirt, he has to ruck the fabric of your dress up and over your breasts to slide it off of your head, “Aaand, there they are, and they’re out now, and that bra looks really uncomfortable, so I’m gonna-”

Jake slides his hands beneath your back, locating the series of clasps easily. 

“Please don’t kill me,” Jake begs, blinking up at the ceiling as his neck aches with the way he cranes his head upwards, “I’m not lookin’, I swear.”

He peels your pushup bra off of your chest, and the fabric is warm where he tosses it in the vague direction of your suitcase. He wants nothing more than to linger on that, to press his hand to the pad that had just cupped your flesh and let the warmth travel south. But he is a Southern gentleman, and you’re sleeping, and the bra remains discarded in the hallway.

“Right. Now the pajamas,” He continues his stream of consciousness if only to reassure himself that he’s not a creeping perv in the darkness of your cabin, “For both of our sakes, Y/N, I hope you packed better nightwear than I did.”

Upon discovering nothing but lacy chemises neatly folded among your other clothes, he gnaws at the inside of his cheek.

“Okay. Don’t go gripin’ at me in the morning for sticking you in one of these things. It was your poor packing skills that led us here.”

He plunges a hand into your suitcase and comes out with a red lacy contraption. He feels, to his own incredulity, a blush rising over his cheeks, as if he’s a teenage boy thumbing through a porn mag and not a decorated naval aviator. He drops the red thing, and reaches for something less sinful. What he finds next is a softer pink garment, silky and longer than the red- though he’s sure it’ll only barely cover your ass. All he wants is to cover his own, though, to make sure he won’t be in trouble for cramming you into a sexy getup while you’re passed out drunk, and the pink is looking better than the red for that purpose. Although- Jake has to admit, the pink is sexy in its own right. It’s soft, and smooth, and delicate, and he’s getting uncomfortable down south so he really needs to stop staring at it.

“Pink it is, darlin’.” He hums, “Hope you don’t mind. Maybe when we dock you can find something a little more conservative. Up you go,” He slides a hand beneath your back, his eyes trained dutifully on your forehead and absolutely nothing down below, “Hope y’don’t mind your hair getting a little messy. I think you scruffed it up when you hit that banister earlier, anyways.” Technically, that had been equal parts yours and his fault. He’d been carrying you, so he could have been a little more careful about swinging you this way and that as he’d navigated the ships’ halls, but you kept reaching out to touch things, and you’d collided square with a metal post in your curiosity. He bunches up the chemise and slides it over your head, careful not to scrape the lace over what little of your lip gloss remains. He doesn’t want to add staining your clothes to the list you’ve surely got of all his transgressions against you.

It’s rather hard to dress you blindly, and his hand does accidentally dip between your tits as he tries settling the material against your skin. He jerks it away like it’s burnt, hissing as his eyes widen where they’re staring at a particularly boring ceiling light.

“Accident. It was an accident. I swear.” He vows, hoping against hope that you’ll stay sleeping as he clumsily dresses you.

“Christ,” He yanks the material down your thighs, settling the chemise into place, “‘Knew how easy it was to take one off’a woman, never knew how hard it was to put it on. I think,” He muses, blinking long and hard before peering down carefully at you. You’re fully clothed, “That’s good. Okay. Done.”

The silence in the room is deafening now that he doesn’t need to keep up a stream of dialogue to soothe his fraying nerves, and his footsteps seem to pound against the cabin floor as he rounds the bed to his own side. There’s plenty of room, but he still feels like he’s sinning - crawling into bed beside your sleep-limp, pink satin-swathed form in nothing but his boxers.

With one click of the remote beside his bed the lights turn off, and there’s no sound besides the ship’s motor to distract him from the gentle inhales and exhales of your peaceful breathing. He licks his lips, settles into his typical sleeping position, sniffles briefly, fiddles with his hands, lifts a leg up to stretch his muscles, readjusts his neck on the pillow, clears his throat, wriggles his toes beneath the blankets, itches his nose, and comes to terms with the fact that he’s unable to sleep. Something’s not right, and he thinks little before he turns to his opposite side to see if sleep will meet him there.

It doesn’t, but your face does.

His neck stiffens and he nearly rears his head back when his nose brushes against your own, your warm breath fanning over his face. He snaps his eyes shut and breathes deeply himself, lashes fluttering when he deems himself brave enough to open his eyes again.

You’re there, looking like sleep was made for you the way it lulls your face into peace and erases the wrinkles Jake puts around your nose and mouth. There’s no longer the prominent frown lines that you’re always sporting around him, and your lips are blessedly relaxed, almost pouting with the way your cheek is squished into the pillow instead of disapprovingly downturned in his direction.

The silence suffocates him, rushing into Jake’s ears and clogging them until tv static fills his brain. The only words he can form, the only thing he’s capable of doing is murmuring a gentle, “Goodnight, Y/N,” In a voice far softer than he’s ever aimed towards you before.

Then he turns, rolling back onto a shoulder that aches from carrying your phantom weight, and shuts his eyes for the night.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[goatsandgangsters]

So we had lots of fun in Chicago, it was a really great time, we liked it there! 

UNTIL THE SINGLE WORST FLIGHT EXPERIENCE OF MY ENTIRE LIFE

it took 💫✨ 28 hours ✨💫

like, I fly multiple times a year and no hurricane or blizzard has EVER fucked up my day like this

so our original flight out of Chicago was Sunday, but bc of the storms every flight to NY from like noon onwards was delayed. and you know how delays are, every hour they push you back another hour, until you've wracked up Many Hours of delay

And finally, at like 9 pm, they canceled every flight to New York. This was at MINIMUM seven flights all cancelled. at 9 pm. with 7+ planes full of people now stranded 

And then the gate agents all left!! Didn't help rebook people, didn't answer any questions. Just left. Literally "not my problem, call customer service number." there was NO ONE in that entire airport To Help

Oh also fun fact: because the cancellation was due to ~weather, their policy is that they don't have to provide any overnight accommodations. For several planes full of stranded people. 

And there ARE no alternative flights because MANY PLANES OF PEOPLE all tried to rebook to the same place at once. There is not a SINGLE flight on Monday to any of the 3 New York area airports, or to Philly, or to those little airfields in Connecticut, or to Boston

There is absolutely nothing until Tuesday. It is Sunday. They are refusing to put anyone up in a hotel. Also it's Chicago on the night before the DNC, so good luck on last minute hotel reservations 

Finally, after an hour on hold, I get a (GENUINELY LOVELY, I love him) customer service guy who's like "I can get you back to New York tomorrow via three different flights" and when you've been stranded already for several hours that sounds like a recipe for further disaster. So instead we opt for a direct flight to DC the next morning and then spend additional money getting train tickets home from there

We are now left overnight in the airport with nothing but a $15 food voucher and those shitty tissue-paper airplane blankets (which, also, I had to walk to an entirely different terminal to get myself so.)

(There are also additional flights full of stranded New Yorkers who weren't even IN Chicago originally, they got rerouted mid-flight from other places and grounded, it is well past midnight and some of them aren't going to be able to get a flight out until WEDNESDAY)

We spend the night in the airport. I sleep for maybe 50 minutes. Do you know they vacuum airport terminals at really weird irregular intervals all night long? 

Also additional fun: I checked a bag. I am concerned about this. I express this concern to an employee who tells me to just track my bag in the app. The app says my bag is going to DC. I have doubts. I talk to the gate agent. He says the computer says my bag will go to DC. I still have doubts. 

I am correct. It does not go to DC. So I call the baggage helpline. I am on hold for an hour again. I finally get someone who tells me that my bag is still in Chicago and they won't mail it to my home address, but they WILL send it to my nearest airport and THAT airport can decide if they're going to mail it to me or not?? No, this doesn't sound right to me either. But fret not, because he put a NOTE in my file that an AIRPORT IN NEW YORK CITY should GIVE ME A CALL PERSONALLY when they receive my bag! Do you want to hold your breath, because I don't. 

So to recap:

Total trip time from door to door: 28 entire human hours

Hours of sleep: one.

18 of these 28 hours were spent in an airport and I no longer have any sense of reality

I also do not know where my bag is. I do not know how I will obtain my bag. It contains my all-time favorite shirts AND our gorgeous jstor tote bags that we got for free so like, this is somewhat Dire

I've had an hour of sleep 

I have not yet had the time to call and demand both a refund for my flight AND compensation for having to book additional expensive amtrak tickets just to get home because they couldn't get us any closer to New York thAN OUR NATION'S CAPITAL

I was told by the (genuinely lovely and ONLY helpful person in all this) customer service guy who rebooked me that I absolutely will be refunded. I am again not holding my breath, because I have been told many things and very few of them have been true

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

I had a long weekend this weekend and it still went by way too quickly. I'd like a refund.

But! Arranged marriage. Poll on whether or not I should say 'fuck it' and start posting is still open for another few hours, speak now or forever hold your peace etc etc. In the meantime, though...

Alex has no idea what he’s done wrong, and it unsettles him.  He’s used to rubbing people up the wrong way. He’s free with his opinions, terrible at schooling his expression when someone he’s talking to is being particularly obnoxious, and, well, he’s a prince—he can be out of touch sometimes, even if he doesn’t mean to be. But usually when someone is making their dislike of him clear, he knows why.  This time, he’s at a loss.  Henry hasn’t even looked at him since he stepped foot into the room to sign the contract. A couple of dozen photographers capture the way Henry takes the pen out of Alex’s hand carefully—so carefully that they don’t touch once during the whole process—and adds his own, ridiculously flowery signature before stalking right back out of the room without a word or a backwards glance.

Forever feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to, so tags below the cut and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

@affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @celaestis1 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @dumbpeachjuice @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @hypnostheory @iboatedhere @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @lilythesilly @myheartalivewrites @nontoxic-writes @orchidscript @rmd-writes @roseapothecary @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @suseagull04 @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland

[powdermelonkeg]

You wanna rant?

YES

So my computer's charger was on the way out. Combination of the charger itself breaking and the port for it losing grip.

Okay, fine. It's got a USB-C. I can charge with that. Internet says my laptop model supports USB-C charging.

Bought a USB-C charger.

Plugged it in.

Didn't work. Off-brand, the on-brand one was $15 more expensive, the gamble didn't pay off.

Low on money, but have enough to order another (not USB-C) charger. So I figure "fine, I'll return it, get my $40something dollars back, that way it's still like I only bought one charger, even if it falls out."

Was told by Amazon that they'd charge it to my debit card. The one they literally have on file.

Returned the USB-C charger.

"Your refund is being processed! It will take between 3-5 business days."

"Refund issued! $43.09 issued on Jun 30, 2023"

Saturday. Sunday. Monday comes around, no money. That's fine, it's only been one business day, I usually get my rent money on the 6th.

Tuesday's a holiday.

Wednesday, Thursday. Okay, we've hit 3 business days. I'll get it soon, right?

Friday, nothing. It's now the 7th.

"Check the status of my refund."

Chatbot. Prompt list. I can deal with that. "I haven't gotten my refund yet."

"Please wait 3-5 business days for your refund after your return is processed." Only option is "Okay, thanks!" Option closes window.

I do not want to thank Amazon. I want an option for "this was not helpful, let me talk to a human." There are no humans on the Amazon website.

Saturday, Sunday.

Hi! It's now Monday. It has been 11 days since I returned my item. I message my bank; "hey, is my return on hold? If so, can you tell me when it'll be released? Thanks."

Two answers. Thankfully from humans.

"We don't hold returns/refunds, sorry. Check with Amazon?"

"Amazon refunds things through gift cards, we don't have it."

What.jpg

Rush to Amazon website.

"Return received on: Jul 8, 2023"

Scour the website for half an hour because NOTHING except "buy now" is intuitive.

Hey??? I did not agree to this??? Give me back my money???

There is apparently a very convoluted way to get your money back from Amazon. From what I understand, you transfer a gift card to Amazon Pay, then verify yourself through Amazon Pay, then transfer it from there to a bank.

The online articles say to do it through the app.

I download the app. I follow the instructions.

The dropdown option mentioned does not exist.

Back to square one. I do more research on desktop.

Problem 1. There is no button for transferring funds to Amazon Pay from Amazon. I have searched. The site is as bare-bones minimalist as it gets.

Problem 2. "Can I withdraw from my Amazon Pay?" "Yes! Click this link to learn more." The link leads to a FAQ page instead of an actual help article. The word "withdraw" is nowhere in the entire wall of text. I have to comb through it manually. There is no withdrawal help.

Problem 3. Verifying yourself enough to transfer to a bank account involves pictures of cards I do not have, tying a selfie to my account, and having a video chat with a live agent.

I would rather eat cement.

$43.09 gift card balance.

"Would you like a week-long free trial of Prime?"

Closes laptop. Forcefully.

[nukenai]

Something very weird happened on Sunday. Talk of animal death... as usual lately.

It was what felt like the first real day after losing Zero. The past 30 or so hours had been a complete nightmare. I was in bed just scrolling on my phone on facebook.

I saw a post in my local horse group about something. I saw posts about that kind of thing a lot, but this time I just sorta went. Huh.

Then my dad called to check on me again. He had called me a lot in that short time. We were chatting, he just wanted to know how I was hanging in there and if I could do anything.

Then he asked me what I was planning. If I knew if I was going to get another dog. He told me he knows Samoyeds aren't cheap, and even sheepishly said if I wanted to get another one, that he could help me out.

I'd been thinking about it for a while. The conclusion I came to was... well, of course I wanted to get another dog. I'd been preparing my house for a puppy since february. I have a house full of puppy supplies. But, I don't want another Samoyed right now. First of all the cost, which wasn't really something I discussed with the breeder because refunds are just not... usually a thing, you know, and it's a rough topic to bring up because she's very upset too (she spent 9 weeks with those puppies, literally raised them from birth... so yeah). But, I'm not prepared to spend that amount a second time right now. Maybe sometime in the future, maybe after Striker passes, I'll want a Samoyed again. But I think it would maybe cause a bit too much pain to have one so soon.

But not just another dog in general. People get very judgmental about grief... I understand that people want to say, "don't rush into anything" after something happens. But I feel like that makes more sense when you, say, lose an older dog to age or illness. Because maybe getting a brand new dog after spending so much time with your one dog would be very hard on your soul.

But I went through the loss of a puppy. Of course I was attached to Zero, and loved him with all my heart and soul for the just-under-a-week I had him. But it's different. I had spent so much time preparing, and now there's just this terrible void where all my efforts had been.

And, well. I do stupid things in my life. Sometimes things don't work out. But there's always a way to remedy the situation. Say I got a dog but it wound up making everything so much worse. I'd either contact that person I got him from, or find someone else to take him. Whatever. Life will work out. It is literally never the end of the world to like, get a dog when you're slightly underprepared. There would be another home for him.

The post I saw on facebook was for a corgi puppy. Corgis are not really dogs I actively considered. Of course they're cute as fuck, but I kept telling myself, "no more herding breeds" on principle from how difficult Striker has been. But the ad was for ONE corgi puppy. Just one. Not a whole litter.

I thought, at the very least, it couldn't possibly hurt just to reach out and see what's up. See how much he was, that sort of thing.

So I get on the phone with this woman. She sold a litter of puppies for friends of hers with purebred corgis who bred them. The price was... honestly, astonishing, and felt like a red flag, because she only wanted $425 for him. I asked her, politely, why. Her response was: "I'm doing what they told me to. They sell their dogs only as pets, and they think it's ridiculous to charge upwards of $2,000 for a dog that isn't going into a show ring. Doesn't matter if they have show lines, the majority of people just want a companion. So I'm doing what they say."

I found that... admirable, honestly. So I asked why just he was available.

He was supposed to be picked up that morning. A woman had claimed him a couple weeks ago, the whole litter had sold instantly. But that morning, the woman's horse suddenly colicked and died, out of nowhere. She was devastated and said she wanted to hold off on a puppy for now.

I was so shocked. What a weekend of horrible tragedies. I'm not really a superstitious person, but that just felt so odd that this one puppy would become available, and I would see the post right as I'm scrolling facebook, and it was because someone else tragically lost a beloved pet.

He wasn't that far away, a 45 minute drive. So I thought, well, it can't hurt to go see him.

I had told the woman what happened with Zero. She offered such condolences and assured me it was a freak accident. I told her I was worried about judgment if I got another dog. She told me, "You can't worry about other people. You have to do what's right for you."

We exchanged stories about animal tragedies. Her husband's horse dropped dead when they ran out to Tractor Supply for 20 minutes. A friend of hers accidentally kicked their new puppy who was hidden in a dark hallway, because she walked with a limp, and the dog was killed instantly.

Horrible, freak things happen. Sometimes it's our fault, sometimes not, but we didn't MEAN for them to happen. Maybe they could've been prevented. Maybe not. Literally all we can do is keep moving forward in our lives, the way that feels right. Sometimes the universe turns in cruel, awful ways. But it'll keep turning, so it's up to you whether you look backwards or forwards.

This woman also had had corgis, she told me only recently she had to put her old female down due to cancer. She sang their praises.

I know this post is 40,000 words long but. i've been through a lot you have to be fucking nice to me. The culmination of it all is that yeah, I took him home. If he had been much more expensive than that, I wouldn't have.

Sometimes weird shit happens. Maybe it's a "sign", maybe not. But I do know that I went from staring at an empty dog crate full of un-played with toys stuffed into the corner of my office, to watching those toys be played with again, and getting up in the morning to open the crate door to let a dog outside.

The little one doesn't have a name yet, and this is technically the fourth day I've had him. It's pretty hard, but I know I'll get there. There's no rush, he has no idea what's going on right now anyways. I do feel like I made the right decision for myself, and I don't need to listen to any judgment. No one has been anything but kind, loving, and sympathetic to me, so I have no reason to think I'd have people being nasty behind my back. I guess I'm just traumatized from the 2 times people were weird to me about having a horse!

Anyways. Check out this little man. Whatever his name will be...

[lostjudgmnt]

having an intense emotional roller coaster of a week so far. im writing down what ive been doing/experiencing the last few days

saturday: began packing for my apartment

sunday: got most preparations done

monday: really hard and exhausting day at work. apartment ready for move-in once i got back. everything was in order except for the one (1) thing i left for my roommate’s family to handle. couldn’t get in contact with them for several hours and wouldn’t have been able to move in without them finishing what they needed to do. cried four times. stressed beyond belief about money and if im actually going to make it. finally got it worked out and began moving in. still stressed about money and if im going to make it. immediately passed out on my best friend’s couch when i went over to get some of the stuff i was stashing there. made it home to my parents’ house eventually and am already mourning my old bedroom even though i havent fully moved out of it yet.

tuesday (today): another long day at work. got pretty much everything moved in to the apartment already. got really sad about how im leaving my dogs. i dont know if i’ll get to see them much ever again after i leave. best friends and partner helped me begin unpacking. my desk, clothes, and dishes have all been put aeay at my new apartment. i cant believe thats my new home yet. i have to tell my parents everything. they are out of town. i have to send them my letter (over text) by tomorrow so they can refund the plane ticket. i am so scared and so stressed that i have been dissociating too much to properly think for the past hour and a half. literally paralyzed, couldn’t move or speak, for over an hour. having a psychotic episode too, i think. best friend eventually managed to ground me enough that i could at least write an outline for the letter, as well as make this post. i cried while writing the letter. i dont think my mom will love me anymore. i cant stand permanent change, and everything is changing

i want to go home and sleep in that bedroom while i have the chance to (i have until friday) but i dont know if i can or should.

[nityarawal]

Morgellan's Nest

2/17/2024

My Land Lord

Is Over His Head

In Debt

The Hookers

Came In To Clean

His Home

He Gave One $300

Kicked Out Another

With Violent

Force

Cowgirl Shuffle

I Cleaned Up The

Dressing Trailer

Worked For A Month

Cleaned After 20

Other Abused

Moms

But In Camp

California

Any Gay Child

Thinks He Can

Target Your Lair

Long Golden Hair

Drugged On

Kava

Long Golden Hair

Too Cold To Move

Long Golden Hair

Frontal Coretex

Numb

Stupid

His Mamma Buys

His Products

Long Golden Hair

Could've Been A

Rockstar

Body Double

But He Won't Thank

Anyone

Long Golden Hair

A House Full Of Cats

Dogs

Puppies

Birds

Haters And Bugs

Crying For More

Lizards

Snakes

Never Enough

Pets To Coddle

Or Forget

Crying

Long Golden Hair

Mites In His Bed

Long Golden Hair

Cats Eyes Weep

Yellow Pus

Syphilis In His

Tresses

Long Golden Hair

Who Is This Girl-Boy

Hating Our Campers

From Vegas

Pimps

Obese On Hookers

Cons And Bribes

Whose Golden Hair

Left Behind In

Your Bed

Morgellans

Nest

Whose Golden Hair

Balls

Coming Out On My

Skin

Out Of My Ass

Littering

Sins

On The Shower

Floor

Over A Hundred Rocket

Launches

In Less Than A

Year

Valentine's Gave

Me Lymes

Melody Gray's

Mom

A Cyst In My

Brain

America 1st Legal

Promises Refunds

But Our Gen

Won't Take The

Doje

Con

They Bully

The Mommies

Daytraders

Match.com

Political Branders

Jewish Santa's

Bored

Masterbating

For Their Hater

Daddies

Superbowl

Sundays

And We Just Want

To Close

Vegas Games

And Hoes

We Just Want

To Close

All Those Big

Fat Pimps

Who've Been

Chasing Us

We Just Want

To Close

Sin City

And All The Bros

Spreading Disease

Spreading Syphalis

With Political

Hookers

From Sandiego

To Iowa

Melody Gray

Confirmed

You Are Part Of

This

Peace,

Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal

[fourteentheart]

[Shop Update]

(Pictured: Listing photo - the reprints look just like it! :D)

The reprinted standees arrived and look just like the original listing sample!!! I'll still be using another manufacturer for the bigger standee tho. :) I just wanted consistency for this round.

I'll be packing orders throughout the week for drop off this weekend - if you see a shipping notification know that the label may be created but the package won't be in the system until this Sunday/Monday.

I haven't heard back from a few people regarding the other item differences, but as they aren't major I'm going to go ahead and ship orders as is. You do have the chance to ask for a refund before Dec 16 tho!

Of course, I also communicated on Etsy that they are free to let me know if they are unhappy with the slight changes that occurred during manufacturing. :3

As always, thank you for your patience and understanding. o7

[suicidal-bitch-countdown]

Fucking bitch is still alive. Unfortunately.

And the fallout from the failed suicide has really been awful and made me deeply wish I didn't fuck it up.

More people making fun of and bullying me, accusations of staging my suicide (really?), my property vandalised, I now experience gag reflex in response to any pill that I see because I've taken about 100 according to doctors, which later made me throw up for hours, and most likely losing my job on attendance grounds (subject to appeal).

I haven't had the strength to do anything to myself because I'm too weak physically. And it's so easy to fuck it all up turns out.

Petrol burns your skin and nether regions in ways that I didn't expect, and instead of setting myself on fire I ran around frantically and tore off my dress in panic.

Tying up rope takes a while and you've really got to account for the height, because first tie was far too low (so my feet would touch the ground), and the second was too high, meaning I had to faff about with pulling a big tree root to be able to prop myself up, but everything turned out to be so time consuming, a pair of dog walkers ran into me and I then knew everything was over.

Seeing your Mum cry is horrible. Even when She's hurt you in the past, it was still sad. Although having to live with Her now, I've remembered why we're not compatible and get on each other's nerves. Nothing has changed and She's too stuck in Her ways. I know I won't be able to function for too long having been lured to live under the same roof again.

Reading this blog again though, ensured I realise that there's no way out of this. You must keep your word and promise. No ifs or buts, bitch. Even if my Love has let me down in some ways, I've let Her down more. I've now learned some crucial things that I didn't know before, of course when it's too late. And they make me feel so fucking guilty. My friend who gets annoyed whenever I defend Her needs to stop his jealousy-fuelled moaning. You're another person who tried to turn me against Her. You're the one who tried to convince me She wanted me dead (!), and this is one of the things that really hurt Her when I said it in anger. He insists what a bully She is, but have you ever considered the second side of the story? Lol no cause you're biased as heck, so just give it a rest.

Apparently if I was really suicidal I'd have neglected my job, so now I have and I'm sacked. Appeal was sort of on autopilot and peer pressure, but really that should be the final straw as to why I go and die. Why are you so fucking weak? What are you waiting for? When your money runs out?

Ironically I'm going on a booked non-refundable holiday on an island in days. Hopefully I find a lighthouse accessible to public or another good hazard to throw myself off from. I haven't tried jumping from heights as a method of harm before. Since tablets and hanging failed, maybe this won't…… Just need to make sure it doesn't close early like it was the case that turbulent Sunday…… And when I disappeared people thought I went home! Haha, now it goes to show nobody knows a damn thing about me. Absolutely nothing.

Remember what I've said before, if I fail, I will try it again. Better fucking do it right though to spare everyone more suffering, including me, and so I don't ultimately get locked up in an asylum, as that'd be fate worse than death. So the race against time is on. Remember it bitch. Remember of the relief you leaving will bring. Monster abusers like you deserve to burn in hell, and I'll make sure of it. The correct punishment for hurting my Love is death. So you ought to pay.

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to the working week although, for those of you in the NHS, welcome to just another day!

I hope you enjoyed your weekend. You know I did! I was up to my ears in assignments but I was surrounded by my beautiful family, so I was good. I marked assignments Saturday and Sunday and, until The Trouble and I go to Nice on Friday morning, I will be marking assignments. I normally say, “Don’t distract me!” but – f*ck it – distract me all you like!

Thank you to everyone that listened to the radio show live, unfortunately, at the moment, MixCloud has ‘restricted’ it, so you can’t listen to the recording. As you may or may not know, MixCloud changed their rules recently. “Please make sure that your shows only contain: Maximum 3 songs from one album (and no more than 2 consecutively). Maximum 4 songs from one recording artist (and no more than 3 consecutively). Maximum 4 songs from one compilation (and no more than 3 consecutively).” So, it's very irritating when I follow those rules and I still get restricted. I have contacted MixCloud to ask them what the hell is going on! If I’ve made a mistake, I want to know what it is, but I don’t think I have! Hoping for some kind of resolution today.

The Gary Lineker saga rumbled on over the weekend. All of Gary’s ‘Match Of The Day’ pundits (Ian Wright, Alan Shearer etc.) pulled out of the show, the commentators refused to commentate, and the Premier League players refused to talk to BBC reporters. Again, I expect some kind of resolution today. Wright and Shearer actually appeared on Sky Sports on Sunday, letting BBC bosses know where the talent is going if they fail to do the right thing. As both ‘Question Time’’s Fiona Bruce and Laura Kuenssberg seem to have a very strong Tory bias, and Alan Sugar has posted racist tweets, it seems hypocritical to only censure Gary Lineker. In addition, BBC Chairman, Richard Sharp has donated £400,000 to Conservative MPs since 2001. Not very 'impartial', is he?

Friday’s headline read, “’State can’t fix all your problems’, says Sunak.” In that case, give me a tax refund, because our taxes are paying to keep the ‘state’ running but, Rishi, instead of spending those taxes on ordinary people, you’re collecting it and giving it to your mates! “State can’t fix all your problems.” This is a common theme. You and I are viewed as ‘spongers’. You and I are a drain on the public purse. You and I are viewed by government as weak and feeble, and unable to take care of ourselves. The thing is: if you’re going to tax me to death, don’t try to make me feel guilty for asking for public health, public transport and a pension. I paid for it!

Have a marvellous and momentous Monday. I love you all.

[helptheheart]

DREAM DREAM DREAM.

Hey-yoo. *awkward laugh*. Ik I havent posted in a while, not that anyone really cares. I have a little to talk about though. Lets start with what happened on sunday. So I was working sunday. I work in a pub, and we sell in house-made sausage rolls on weekdays; since I started working weekdays, I've started having to sell the sausage rolls. So I completely blanked and forgot what day it was when someone asked for a sausage roll, and we don't do them on sundays. I said 'yeah of course' put it through and the ticket came down from the kitchen because they were asking about it. I owned up, and said it was my mistake I don't know where my head's at right now and Ill go let them know that I fucked up and that they have two options to fix it. They could ether have the item removed from the order and given a full refund, or have the item replaced free of charge. they ordered another soctch egg. so that was sorted.

There was this old lady that ordered a soctch egg from me, I asked her where she was sitting she said she was sitting outside, I told her that was grand and Id bring it out to her when it was ready. A few minutes later she's back at the bar asking about it, someone asked if I served her I said yes, they asked if she ordered an egg I said yes, they asked if she paid for it I said yes. the lady ordered an egg with me and she paid for it. But the watires just couldn't let it go, she kept checking with me that she did actually pay and that she did order with me, because the old lady was confused and started saying that she ordered with the waitress instead of with me, the only bar-maid. But that stressed everyone out, so I went sort of non verbal, and because everyone was stressed every little thing was a piss take, and it was my fault. so obviously by default they should all be pissed at me. I don't take it very well. I don't take the stress of other people being upset with me very well, especially not when I consider these people my friends. So obviously I started crying. Now, I don't really like to let my self cry in public. or really at all, there's always this little voice in the back of my head, telling me that I'm embarrassing myself,.and that crying sint going to help when I fuck up. so I don't like to cry often. and when I do feel like I am going to cry, I hold it in the best I can. Im kinda proud to say that when I am able to hold it in my eyes get missty at best a few times and then I tell myself to get over it cause I'm being dramatic. This wasn't one of those times. One of the other bar people,Romeo. if you remember him. He sorta tried to comfort me, and explain that he wasn't pissed at me, and that it wasn't my fault. that we all fuck up, and I'm still in training so its expected of me to fuck up like this sometimes. And really, he thinks its the other persons fault (the other guy on the bar) he asked him to swap with me when it got buissy so I wouldn't get too stressed out and so they could get the rush done with, but he was too buissy playing pokimon go, in the bar back area to come do his job. which led to me fucking up. Romeo, sent me out for a brake so I could go calm down. I think I let my self cry for 20 minutes, before I decided that was being dramatic.

and that was the sunday stress.

But my new problem. it might of been either suaturday or sunday night. I think It was Saturday night.

I told my brother about H. and how he and I... messed around.I told him everything, within reason. because, I wanted to give that ginger bell end his shirt back, and we all know that H isn't going to answer me if I text him. and when I gave the shirt to my brother and said. 'give this back to H' he asked why. I said because it was his, and obviously the flood gates of questions opened up. "why do you have his shirt?" "why cant you give it back yourself?" "when did you get his shirt?" and I actually think that was all the question. I expalend all. I told him that H gave it to me around the start of last moth when I went round his, that he told me to keep it, (which idk to me sounds like bf behaviour but apparently he give out his shirts like an std to all the girls) I told him I couldn't give it back because H just isn't talking to me anymore. because I blocked him, I stuck to my story of it being an accident and I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL. I also told him how, H took my innocence. I mean yeah sure I gave it to him, but talking to people bout it makes me think that I did it so he would stop bringing it up. My brother knows about my asexuality, infact I think him and my sister both knew about it before I did. and he agreed and said H could of picked a better person to try and get with in that way, because, It either I have a very specific type because Im not into people that way, or I just truly am asexaul and its just never going to happen like that in my head. My brother told his girlfriend lets call her flower. Flower is mad at H. which I think if pretty fun and cute of her to be mad at him. He also told his best friend, who is the whole reason I even met H in the fist place. My brother, lets call him River, said that that the whole time he was telling his friend, he was in mouth opened shock. and said the same thing river did when I told him "Your telling me that 'sadgirl' (not gonna put my real name) lost her virginity?" I mean I think its pretty funny at this point, its been a whole month since I did it, and Ive talking about it a lot with my friends, and on here that I'm comfortable with the idea and the fact that I did. But I'm not gonna lie. I was super nervous at first to tell river, cause I thought he was gonna be mad. He wasn't, and he said he just thought it would be someone different, someone better for me than H. I agreed obviously, but I cant just ignore that fact that Im in to gingers.

So me and river were talking last night, and he said he cant stop thinking about what he's gonna say to H when he gives the shirt back, and he cant wait to see the look on his face when he does. I don't think its gonna be anything to write home about but I would love to see the look on his face too, just to know if I actually meant anything to him. Which lets be honest I really didn't did I? But both my brother and Roemo think the real reason H isn't chatting to me, isn't because I blocked him (accident or not) its because he's embarrassed. which I think is funny, so I'm also choosing to think he's embarrassed. Let me tell you the soul reason I think he's embarrassed. One I did cum. Two, I was also kinda just existing there, like I said in the post where I talked about it, it just felt like filling a hole, so I wasn't very vocal about it, it also didn't last very long. So I guess if I was a guy I would be embarrassed too. I was pissed off after we did it for 2 reasons, one I lost my headphones. (I found them later in my bag) 2 as mentioned I did get to finish. so I kinda just sat there with a sour look on my face. He asked me twice if I was okay after, at that point in time I was more miffed about the fact that he got me all worked up, for NOTHING. But I couldn't just like tell him that right? I couldn't just look him In the eyes and go. "I didn't cum, so I'm a little disappointed" rIGHT. so I just said I was upset that I lost my headphones. (which I found what like three days later in my bag under my portable charger T-T)

BUT NO ANYWAY, BACK TO WHY I WANTED TO WRITE. I JUST WOKR UP IT IS 2:38 PM. I HAD A DREAM ABOUT HIM. it was nothing spicy, I've never actually had a spicy dream about anyone I know. But the dream basically what it was, I went to his house, but before I could like knock on the door, he opened the door, cos he ordered a pizza, he took the pizza's in then stood at the door looking at me. instead of talking like normal people, we texted. I don't remember a lot about what was said but I do remember, he put his hand on my cheek, and gently rubbed his thumb over my cheek. I REMEMBER TEXTING "fuck is that about. you wanna ignore me and then you touch me like that, like you still wanna chat to me,"

and in the dream, he apologised to me. which he never actually has done. Im not sure, if that what I subcontously want. If I want him back in my life or if I just want a real emotional intelligent apology from him. For all the emotional stress he put me though, for the presser he said he wasn't putting on me to have sex, but I knew it was the only thing that was gonna keep him around me, and then he just did chat to me. and this was before I blocked him. Maybe I do just want an apology, from him, telling me that he's actually sorry, for how he made me feel. He never once actually tried to understand how I feel, it was only ever about how he felt. How he wanted to have sex, while I as an asexual person didn't really care about it. I did it to shut him up and because I was curious. He kept hyping it up so I wanted to see if his game was as big as his talk. It wasn't. I could of done a better job myself in 5 minutes. I guess, all I want is a simple sorry. But its not something Im ever going to get. Not from him, or any other ass whole. I just want a sorry, from him. Sorry for making you feel somewhat important to someone for the first time, and then ignoring you. But that's all I'm gonna write rn bc I might have a brake down and istg this boy has gotten me in my feels too much.

[iloveschiaparelli]

I am officially in debt to my bank (I don't own a credit card). Duolingo charged me 83 dollars for a 1 year subscription so before it hit my bank I moved all my money to cashapp. Thankfully my refund request was approved, but then I had to pay my rent and there were a bunch of other charges so now the -amount in my bank account exceeds what I'm holding in my cashapp.

I have leftover stock from going to otakon artist alley and I have some plants in painted pots so I'm thinking can earn money quick by

Attending the punk rock free market on Sunday 1 week away and just selling everything that I can. Not just art prints and buttons but plants & YA books too (I have leftover volumes I've been trying to get rid or including a signed copy). I can HOPE that people will like my stuff enough that I'll make 1-200 and be able to pay my bills but also have enough stock left over to pay for more. It was a $700 investment to stock my art business and if I sell everything now and don't put anything back in, i wont ve able to invest that amount again.

Doordash (includes taking -70 psychic damage) even though my area is SLOW and I probably won't make back that amount even in an afternoon

My mom owes me a $150 loan that I haven't asked her for yet. She probably forgot so that will be a hassle to obtain. I originally asked for the loan to pay for Otakon 2024 table if I get in, but I've been waitlisted and as it is right now, even with a loan from her I wouldn't be able to afford the table or the lodging costs. The downside is that then I would be in debt to my mom instead of the bank and it wouldn't actually be clearing any debt. But, then I wouldn't have to worry about my account closing or being charged overdraw fees.

Back to the punk rock market thing, I could sell family heirlooms including a couple of sarees I got from family members. I think one of them is that fancy silk(?) And they're both hand embroidered/woven so they would each go easily for 100+ if not several times more. But that is a TERRIBLE idea. I would ask my aunt for money before selling those. But I also have a Japanese jewelry box and a sword and some cool rocks just auugghhhhhhhh they're all either special gifts from people or i have a super emotional attachment to them. They could go to the pawn shop also IG or some antique seller i just don't. Want to. This is a last resort option.

I have a job, but there has only been $500 worth of work for in the last month because of problems upstream of my boss. I cleared out my savings last month and this month and the only reason I have money right now is because of the $200 in forgotten cash/from my grandma. I paid my rent and insurance for June so I have a little bit of time before it hits the fan but I'm about to be in big trouble if I don't start making money FAST.

Ive been aching for another part time or alternative full time job but my area is just Not Really Hiring right now and I'm not the only person who has been beating themselves senseless trying to find employment. Being autistic doesn't help because I can't do some jobs or I'll burn out within a week.

[juliosswisslitblog]

Reflections on a Year of Reading Swiss Literature

It is a dream of mine to travel to Switzerland, but I still have a long way to go until I reach such a dream. For now, I can content myself with traveling in Switzerland through books. In the book “Slow Train to Switzerland” by Diccon Bewes, we get to experience a little bit of the country through his writing. Geographically speaking, the book is very descriptive. He visited Mount Blanc, one of the highest mountains in Europe, and the Mer de Glace, a glacier that has been slowly defrosting over time, and he also visited the Alps, the most extensive chains of mountains in Europe.The country is also filled with lakes and beautiful scenery; you can enter Switzerland from any direction, and you are still going to be blessed with a spectacular view. I already had background knowledge about Switzerland's geography, as I planned on traveling there, but it was really interesting to see how much the country had changed from the time the book was written until now.

Switzerland has always been a country with a rich history; it is located at the heart of Europe after all, and Bewes did not disappoint when it came to teaching us of whatever part of the country he was traveling. For example, Kandersteg, a small village, had a population of only 455, but due to a new tunnel that was built, the population literally exploded to 3554 only ten years later (Swiss people also love celebrating newly built tunnels). Diccon also explains the birth of some holidays, like the one in St. Moritz, where some British guests were dared to see if they would enjoy St. Moritz in the winter all well, and if they didn't, they would get a refund of their whole travel. They did enjoy it, and in fact, they came back for more, which began the annual winter British Invasion of the Alps.

The different cultures between countries is what makes traveling so thrilling; it is like visiting a new small “planet” per se, and Switzerland is no different. Patients in the municipality of Leukerbad would sit up to 10 hours a day in Leukerbad’s hot baths to cure diseases and infirmities, and more surprisingly (or not), they did get better. Holidays in Switzerland are treated as Sundays, which are treasured as a day of rest—not really praying and going to church but more spending time with family and friends and resting. Shops are also all closed on Sundays, and most of them don’t open until 9 a.m. Swiss people really value their own time, and they have a great work-life balance compared to the rest of the countries in Europe.

Time is a weird concept; it was a way for humans to try and fit something unseen into something more manageable. It is undeniable that time is important; it uttermostly brings order, and order is the law of nature. The book Einstein's Dreams plays a lot with the concept of time and how it is important to life itself. Without time, human life would make no sense. Imagine having to live forever; there would be no reason to learn another language, to try hard at school, or to find someone you love because ultimately you would have infinity time, so it could always be done later. But since our time on this planet is counted, we always try to make the most that we can before we eventually die.

I had two major takeaways from reading Slow Train to Switzerland and Einstein’s Dreams. First, I really want to travel to Switzerland even more now. I am going to make whatever arrangements I can in the future to go there, even if I am on my deathbed. Secondly, it is to let it go; I do not have to keep it holding in my heart for longer than it needs. “Each person who gets stuck in time gets stuck alone (Einstein’s Dreams, Alan Lightman). This quote can be interpreted in various ways, but for me, it is to not let things hold you back longer than they need to, or you are going to end up stuck alone in past memories.

WC:698

Books: Slow Train to Switzerland by Diccon Bewes, Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman.

[cynicaldesire]

Had a bit of a hard week.

So, at my job, I'm a tutor for the programming department. I got my Associate's in 2014 but I haven't had to keep up with programming ever since. Which ended up being fine because the only people seeking tutoring were in the intro to programming class that doesn't (shouldn't) use a real coding language. It's just all the concepts and stuff.

My boss asked me to screen record myself doing the assignments in the end-level course for his preferred language and I've been putting it off because I have no clue where to start. I haven't used this language in 10 years, and they're doing stuff I don't remember ever actually doing/working with. So I've been trying to figure out how to study it between everything else.

Everything else is all the bookings I have to tutoring sessions. I have removed availability for half of one of the 3 days that I work and the other half is completely full most of the time. This is on top of getting almost fully booked on the full days that I work. I'm busy and despite getting a second tutor in the form of a Federal Work Study student, people are still coming to me.

This is on top of all the other odds and ends I do around the office, helping people find classrooms, directing them to tutors, helping the admin assistant with things from time to time (personal and professional), helping coworkers with stuff, and even being one of two admins of the booking system itself (which comes with its own set of responsibilities).

And, you know, being a full-time student.

So I keep thinking I have time to work on the stuff that my boss is asking me to do, but when I do, I usually default to working on my homework for my learn!school instead. So my boss keeps asking WHERE ARE MY VIDEOS and I have to tell him, dude I'm busy and I'm not about to work on this at home. (I'm not supposed to work from home or whatever.)

Then my husband came to visit for Spring Break (his, not mine), and I was gonna work on my boss's homework. But then my husband bought a new game to play (FF7 Rebirth) and I had to watch it. Then I had a flat tire and the other car I had access to had a faulty electrical system so I couldn't go to work. So I went to work only 1 day that week. (I took off the day my husband came into town.)

I went back and I was SWAMPED with people talking to me, asking questions, booking me for tutoring sessions. It was BONKERS how busy I was. Then my husband left and one of my niece's significant others came into town. This was frustrating for me because I'm incredibly shy and they're trans and so I was afraid of misgendering, so I tried not to address them at all. But they're also shy, so they didn't wanna talk either. And then my niece refused to tell me anything about the visit, so I had to keep being confused at different intervals. -I thought they drove? -No they got dropped off. -Well I thought they were leaving on Sunday? - No, Monday morning. -You still haven't done like 6 essays in one of your classes. -I'll do it! (Did not.)

And then at the usual Saturday Family Dinner, people kept ignoring me. People asked me questions directly and then stopped listening to me halfway through. My mom especially kept getting distracted by the stupidest shit in the middle of me talking. I had to retell a story like 5 times before I finally gave up.

Then my husband was having a problem with another video game he tried to buy. His online order got cancelled. He got the points he used for a coupon refunded, then he bought it again and they shipped it to the wrong address. Not sure why that address was still there, set as default. Then he drove over there to pick it up and in the package wasn't the game he even ordered. So he went to a physical location and returned the game and just bought the one he wanted in person.

It wasn't until I was able to talk to my husband Saturday night that I was able to get any of my anxiety out. That I realized just how much anxiety I had. A lot of it was stressing out about finishing the game. A lot of it was about the stranger coming to the house right after he left. A lot of it was about being so busy at work, staying late, finishing the game, getting up to take him to the airport, coming home to take my niece to school, getting gas, coming home to get ready for work, having another busy day, then having to take my niece to work with me and navigate the stranger and my niece at work while also tutoring. And then going to dinner and being super ignored.

And my husband went back to some problems in his house and that made it so I couldn't talk to him until Saturday night. I got some of my stress out, able to finally spend a good time with my husband, things calmed down, etc.

Now I can work on that stuff for my boss. After all this other stuff I gotta do for my learn school.

[speedyposts]

Hong Kong fans boo Inter Miami, demand refund as Messi sits out friendly

Lionel Messi’s three days of adulation in Hong Kong ended in heartbreak for his fans as the Argentinian did not take to the field in Inter Miami’s 4-1 win against a local league XI in a friendly match played during the US club’s preseason tour.

Spectators chanted “refund” and the Hong Kong government said match organisers Tatler Asia may face a reduction in funding after Messi stayed on the bench during the match on Sunday.

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Dabiri-Erewa warns Nigerians against irregular migration, Especially to Canada

The Nigerians in Diaspora Commission (NiDCOM), Abike Dabiri-Erewa, has urged Nigerians travelling abroad to go legitimately and with proper documentation

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The World Cup-winning captain, who has a hamstring strain, stayed rooted to the bench throughout the game. It brought a show of anger from the near-capacity crowd of 38,323, who had paid upwards of 1,000 Hong Kong dollars ($125) to see their hero, and in many cases five times that amount.

Halfway through the second half, chants of “we want Messi” rose around the Hong Kong Stadium from fans desperate to see one of the greatest footballers of his generation in the much-hyped exhibition game.

The booing became louder during the last 10 minutes when it became clear that the eight-time Ballon d’Or winner would not make even the briefest of cameos.

The jeers rose to a crescendo at the final whistle and Miami co-owner David Beckham was drowned out by booing as he tried to thank the crowd for “their incredible support” while fans signalled their anger with thumbs-down gestures.

The Major Sports Events Committee (MSEC) had granted 15 million Hong Kong dollars ($1.92m) for the event along with a grant of 1 million Hong Kong dollars ($127,854) for the venue, the government said in a statement.

“Regarding Messi not playing the match today, the Government, as well as all football fans, are extremely disappointed about the organisers’ arrangement. The organiser owes all football fans an explanation,” they said.

“The MSEC will take follow-up actions with the organiser according to the terms and conditions, which includes reducing the amount of funding as a result of Messi not playing the match.”

The organisers said they expected Messi and his former Barcelona teammate, Uruguay’s Luis Suarez, to play and were extremely disappointed that they did not feature in the match.

“Despite some news reports, Tatler did not have any information about the non-participation of Messi or Suarez prior to kick off,” they said in a statement.

“Messi and Suarez were deemed unfit to play by their team’s medical department, to everyone’s, including ours, disappointment.”

“I’m just really disappointed,” fan Jonathan Wong told the AFP news agency.

“Everyone is here to see Messi, so I feel a bit cheated.

“Without him, it’s just like another regular Hong Kong Premier League match, where a ticket only costs Hong Kong dollars 80 [$11]. This time, we paid Hong Kong dollars 5,000 [$625].”

Miami coach Gerardo Martino said the club’s medical team had taken the decision after an assessment on Sunday morning.

“We understand the disappointment of the fans for the absence of Leo [Messi] and we ask for their forgiveness,” Martino told reporters.

“We wish we could have sent Leo on for at least a while but the risk was too big.”

It was a bitter end to the days of the Hong Kong “Messi mania”.

Tens of thousands turned up just to watch him train on Saturday, when he did little more than jogging and stretching.

The team hotel was besieged by hundreds of fans trying to glimpse their hero, and a traditional junk boat was cruising around Victoria Harbour with Messi’s face plastered across its sails.

Messi can expect similar scenes in Tokyo when Miami continue their preseason tour with a friendly against J-League champions Vissel Kobe on Wednesday.

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Dabiri-Erewa warns Nigerians against irregular migration, Especially to Canada

The Nigerians in Diaspora Commission (NiDCOM), Abike Dabiri-Erewa, has urged Nigerians travelling abroad to go legitimately and with proper documentation

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