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shoheiakagi · 9 months ago

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AUs i’m not sure that i’ll ever write, so i’ll make a post with headcanons part 2: warehouse AU!!

aka AU where y/n is fresh out of college and lands a job as an area manager at a local warehouse, only to be a total dumbass and end up dating a homra boy aka her employee. featuring S4 as the leadership team that is underpaid, overworked, and 100% done with everything

note: this is actually based on real life lol, so some things are oddly specific. also, i wasn’t able to include the hmr trio and anna in this one 😔

rockstar au

just to be clear, warehouse associate is just another title for a warehouse worker, while an area manager is someone they would report to for their shift and assignments. an area manager cannot be having any type of relationship with their associates out of the workplace, as this can be seen as a conflict of interest and cause perception of bias amongst the other associates. this still applies even if the associate doesn’t directly report to them in the warehouse. so in short, managers dating warehouse associates are a huge no-no and can lead to both parties being fired. riskier for the manager since the job markets tough and it will be hard to find another well paying job, especially if the reason for termination was due to inappropriate workplace relationships.

s4 abc boys + fushimi are the area managers along with y/n, seri is the operations manager, while munakata is the station manager who doesn’t appear unless shit really goes down

homra abc boys + yata & kamamoto are warehouse associates

hmr guys are the troublemaking associates that are the bane of s4’s existence. always coming in late smelling like cigarettes or weed, missing from their assigned locations for hours, and always arguing with the managers because they refuse to follow the rules. there is a lot of back and forth between the s4 managers and the hmr guys (obviously), and things calm down once seri gets involved

the boys are either lowkey afraid of her or just don’t believe in disrespecting women. but that doesnt stop one dumbass (either bandou or chitose) making an offhand and inappropriate comment about her. andy and hidaka once got into an argument with chitose and bandou bc they were lounging around in the breakroom instead of working. the two managers were trying to get the boys to get back to work, only for the guys to be resistant, which leads to a verbal back and forth that required seri to come over. it was during that argument where bandou blurts out that seri would be a lot cooler if she got laid more often….only for the entire breakroom to suddenly get quiet and colder than before. bandou learns that day to never make that statement ever again. and he never really got the confidence to look at seri in the eyes after that event

majority of the management team begrudgingly admits that dewa is someone they can see growing within the company, since he has strong potential. he’s less obnoxious, actually understands the business, and when he occasionally puts in effort, he pulls the highest stowing and induct metrics for the shift. his downfall is the friend group he surrounds himself with, and the fact that he doesn’t put in a lot of effort for the most part. one time, dewa actually found himself on the ‘employee of the month’ board, which got the other guys teasing him and telling him to treat them to dinner to celebrate. dewa is just confused cause he doesnt even remember taking that picture (he was high from a smoke session with chitose and kamamoto in the parking lot, when a disgruntled fushimi yanks him as soon as he enters the building and takes a picture of him for the board)

of course fushimi has told a lot of associates, including the hmr boys, that theyre a bunch of idiotic lowlives who have nothing to look forward to. of course a behavioral investigation has been initiated against fushimi, who didnt hesitate in confirming the allegations raised against him. of course munakata was able to pull some strings so that fushimi got away with a write up instead of getting fired, since he is an asset to the team. as punishment, fushimi was tasked of delivering positive feedbacks to the associates, in order to earn their trust. kamamoto and bandou were alarmed and slightly afraid for their lives when fushimi approached them with a compliment on their stow rates and how he appreciates the efforts theyve been putting in. yata, chitose, and shouhei take the opportunity to piss him off even more. yata, being the little gremlin that he is, would have a shit eating smirk on his face when he says, “what was that, saru? cant hear ya when youre mumbling and the musics all loud.” dewa and eric probably get into it with fushimi cause sassy men clash with other sassy men

in this AU, y/n’s personality is really dependent on the homra guy she gets with. so if she gets with chitose, her personality would be completely different from if she were to get with dewa

but regardless of her personality, y/n is a complete dumbass bc she risks her job (and possibly have to pay back a 10k sign on bonus for getting fired before she makes a year with the company) by getting with a homra boy, who happens to be an associate working at the same warehouse as her.

as mentioned before, y/n is a college hire new to the team. she joins around the time yayoi yoshino resigns, which leaves her to be the only female in the team, along with seri. a little upset about yoshino leaving the team, seri quickly takes y/n under her wing as a protege.

but unlike yoshino, y/n has a tough time adjusting to the job and some of the team members. y/n hates the job and is constantly wishing that another opportunity opens up for her.

akiyama, benzai, kamo are too strict for her, especially with kamo being a divorced father. fushimi and fuse are mean and ignore her, fuse being the nicer one. andy is too hyper for her to keep up with, and sometimes a little too blunt. goto is weird, no added commentary. hidaka started off nice, but then started getting creepy with boobs always being the main topic of a lot of his conversations. enomoto, despite being nerdy, is the only one y/n genuinely gets along with. he joined the team a little before her, so they spent a lot of time together during the onboarding process. it doesnt help that he’s clearly flustered by being friends with a pretty girl, so y/n uses it to her advantage by having him complete some of her work

on y/n’s first day, she is immediately noticed by a lot of the male associates, including the homra boys. its not that often they get a female manager joining the team, especially a very pretty female manager who seems to be more laidback than seri

bandou somehow finds her instagram page and shares it with the rest of the boys (luckily for them, her page was public). bandou and chitose shamelessly view her posts and stories, followed by shouhei and eric, who were a little hesitant at first. dewa, fujishima, kamamoto, and yata refuse to stoop to their level.

when y/n realizes that her recent ig story is being viewed by some warehouse associates, she immediately blocks them before making her page private

she is a little intimidated by the group at first, based on what she heard about them and from what she witnessed. once she was done with onboarding and training, she was especially nervous about having to work directly with them, since they seem to be mean to the other managers

the first few weeks in the job had her being tense and nervous while some of the guys would try to flirt with her. but she eventually opens up to them, when she realizes that theyre not as bad as the s4 managers described them to her (well duh, theyre not trying to get with the other managers). theyre nicer to her, listen to her instructions, and even help her out with the larger packages without her even asking. near the end of y/n’s shift, its common for her to be surrounded by some of the hmr boys at her desk while she works on her end of shift report. this pisses off some of the managers cause the boys are still on the clock, but y/n is letting them lounge around her

some of the boys start to vent to y/n, claiming how theyre always being “mistreated” and “harassed” by the other managers, that theyre probably “discriminated” for their tattoos, and that y/n is the only manager who treats them nicely and acknowledges their hard work. y/n being the dumbass that she is, starts to believe them and thinks that the managers are using their power against the boys (which is not completely wrong, but theyre using it for valid reasons okay)

she especially likes the group better when she realizes that there are other male employees who may not be rowdy, but are definitely more creepy towards her. the homra boys may or may not have beaten up those creepy guys outside of work once they heard y/n complain about feeling harassed by them

but out of the group, there is one who caught her attention. the one who tends to walk slower than the rest of the group so that he can walk and talk with her. the one who stands the closest to her at all times. the only one she accepted to share a car ride with, even though she previously rejected an offer to carpool with the entire group. and even though she resisted his advances at first, she eventually lets her guard down by letting him take her out on dates after work, where they grab a meal after a long day, before he finally drops her home. she finds herself to be a goner when she finally lets him kiss her in the privacy of his car. she secretly exchanges her number with him, and follows him on ig after unblocking him. there’s been multiple times where they both would sneak away during work to sneak in a quick makeout session in hidden areas with no cameras.

they both fail to be subtle at work, however. multiple managers slowly start to notice that one homra member always being wherever y/n is. he’s always assigned to her area, he’s always hovering near her when theyre away from the operations floor, and he’s suddenly sitting near the leadership desk where the managers are during lunch, instead of sitting with his friends. according to fuse, that guy is always hovering around y/n as if he wants everyone to know that she’s with him. hidaka follows y/n on ig, and notices that she posted a pic where she’s wearing an oversized jacket he swore he saw that homra guy wear a couple of times at work.

fuse even notices that the homra guy is even more hostile than usual to him after he scolded y/n for making a mistake at work

but shit gets crazy when the guy posts a picture of her on his ig page. he thinks he’s being smart by covering her face with an emoji, but he forgot that he has a lot of followers from work who would be able to recognize that manager, even with the emoji covering her face

you bet one of those followers showed the picture to hr because he was salty that he wasn’t the one who y/n got with

the picture soon started spreading amongst the management team. seri is stoic on the outside, but extremely disheartened. when fushimi first pulled her aside to tell her that she might wanna speak to y/n cause shes awfully close to that homra guy, she was in denial. when munakata would argue that y/n is one of the least performing managers and may need to be put in a performance improvement plan, seri defended y/n and was adamant that there was improvement, and that she just needed time. so to see that someone she put in a lot of faith on and took in as her protege violate a huge policy just like that?? she’s never trusting another person ever again.

akiyama, benzai, and kamo are disappointed, but figured that hr makes the call on what happens to y/n and the homra guy. fuse and fushimi think y/n is a dumbass and should get fired since she’s not that useful to the team anyway. andy and hidaka are betrayed, since it seems like y/n is sleeping with the enemy. goto straight out asks y/n if she’s fucking the whole group. while enomoto? he actually knew this whole time bc y/n confided in him. and was he going to snitch? hell no! sue him for not wanting to cut off the only pretty friend he has

poor enomoto tho. in general, he’s been an easy target for the hmr guys to bully since he’s visibly nervous when he confronts them on his own. but bc he’s always around y/n, he finds himself in the shitlist of y/n’s man. with ‘accidental’ shoves and hostile glares thrown his way, poor enomoto is scared and confused

during the investigation, y/n and the homra guy were both in denial, claiming that the girl in the picture could have been any other girl who had similar hair and nails to y/n. the guy states that he is dating someone else and that he doesn’t like how his privacy is being violated. y/n is the only manager who’s nice to him, but why would he put his job at risk by dating her? y/n states that she heard rumors about the guy liking her, but she would never date a coworker. they dont make it any easier when they both take the same day off after the investigation during that week.

unfortunately for the team (and fortunately for y/n and her man), the picture was not a substantial evidence due to the emoji covering her face, even if there are multiple coincidences and rumors about them. therefore, the most they can do is have y/n sign the relationship policy document, confirming that she understood the policy, and that she understood that she will be terminated if she is caught in a relationship with an associate

that doesn’t stop the two from dating though. although they keep some distance from each other in work, theyre still seeing each other outside of work and going on dates. the homra guy makes sure to unfollow everyone from work on ig, except for his boys bc they knew from the beginning and never snitched. y/n makes sure that he goes private on ig as well, and that he blocks the managers that she’s following. On the week of her bday, they both take the entire week off, which is noticed by the entire leadership team. but until they get a clear picture of the two together, they can’t do shit.

y/n once comes to work with a bandaid on her neck, which eventually falls off and reveals a fresh hickey. the managers are not impressed (“can’t you cover that shit up with makeup?” -andy)

goto once lurks around and finds that y/n has another page on ig thats filled with her posts at the gym. she doesnt have much followers, but he sees that she is following that homra guy, along with her main page. when he shares that info to the other guys, he’s immediately told to pull up the page and take screenshots. but when he pulled the account again, he noticed that she went private, so he couldnt take any screenshots.

will they ever get caught? maybe, theyre not as stealthy as they think are. but theyre both stupidly “in love” and not realizing the seriousness of their situation

#mine #this was fun to write out lol #warehouse au

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ms-demeanor · 1 year ago

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Folks, Temu is just Wish/Shein/Whatever shitty marketplace of the hour is direct-selling to get around import tariffs and this post in particular is garbage.

The first image is a screenshot from this website, and the article that says "The Temu app is a pyramid scheme that has been gaining popularity recently" ends like this:

The USA Today article and the final screenshot are actually both the same article written by Kim Kommando and hosted on her website AND USA Today where she is a regular contributor. Kommando is not a cybersecurity expert, she is a computer sales and marketing expert who pitches content as a way to sound like you're good at tech even if you don't know anything about tech (which hey, they say to write what you know.)

Kommando is also a Fox tech news contributor and in every mention of China in that article she refers to the country as "Communist China" - so she's recommending that you uninstall Temu so that you're not sending data back to "Communist China."

To be clear: Temu is a datamining piece of shit that sells products produced by underpaid workers and direct ships them from China to you. Their return policy means that if you have a problem you're better off throwing away the problem product than returning or replacing it. It is like if fast fashion weren't just for fashion but was also for garden hoses and car parts. It's only popular because it is spending a shitload of mony on advertising and it is literally the same business model as Wish there isn't anything special about it. Temu sucks and you shouldn't install it and honestly none of us should be using these absolute trash direct sales marketplaces because there is a global impact to cheap consumerism that doesn't seem worth the exchange of encouraging businesses like this to exist as a tradeoff for getting a shitty five dollar polyester dress in the mail.

Temu is bad but it is not especially or uniquely bad, and it seems bad for privacy but not in a way that is any worse than facebook.

OP has actually updated the original post with a Snopes link, an exhortation to do your own research, and an apology for any implied Sinophobia but I still kind of want to yell a little bit.

The "do your own research check your own sources" thing only works when you, OP, haven't ignored the conclusions of one of your sources. This post was originally either misleading on purpose OR op just didn't bother to finish reading articles before posting about.

So don't go yell at OP here, but I want people to note that as of this reblog this post is less than a week old and has about 36k notes. I've seen it floating around a few times and I've never seen it with additional information or the update from OP.

It is *difficult* to update incorrect posts on Tumblr and they can grow legs remarkably quickly. If you're going to make informative posts about a subject you need to show your work and screencaps don't actually count, as you can see here.

So yeah i guess this is your general reminder: If you see a post on the internet that upsets you or makes you worried or makes you angry or makes you scared and that post doesn't make it easy for you to check their work and verify what they are saying is true, please don't share it until you've checked to see if it's true for yourself.

keep seeing Temu ads on here so just to share cause idk if people are widely aware

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file-folder · 10 days ago

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We will not spend our off-the-clock time working for fun.

My spouse and I work at a small (30-ish employees) software company. My spouse works as an Implementation Specialist (does some support for clients but mainly testing our software and correcting errors) and I am a run-of-the-mill office worker. We work half the week in-office, half from home. Full-time, spouse is salary and I am hourly.

I just found out that early last week, our boss thought it would be perfectly fine to tell my spouse, already not getting compensated for all the extra shit that's thrown on him, that when he has free time at home he "can continue testing the software". He heavily suggested that my spouse, who works on average 50 hours a week as it is and barely makes $50k annually, would and even should keep working outside of what he's already putting in. How fucking detached from life do you have to be to even bring that up to one of your employees? I am the only hourly employee, nobody works part-time, and you think that rather than, I don't know, hiring more people to relieve the pressure off of literally everyone busting their asses to build your dreams, you should "encourage" your underpaid and overworked personnel to spend their valuable and scarce time continuing to waste their lives away with absolutely no rewards.

Where are we supposed to find the time to keep up on housework? Relaxing? Taking care of chores like grocery shopping, fixing the things that break, bettering our lives within our spaces? What about having home cooked meals? A full night's rest? Seeing family or friends, walking in nature, seeing something, anything, other than a computer screen and the incessant beeping of incoming support calls? My spouse assures me that he made it clear he had no intention of actually doing it, but with him being conflict-averse and our boss taking anything he can and twisting it to fit his narrative, I worry greatly about it. The implications of this entire thing is absolutely abhorrent; how could you lack so much connection to other people that you think it would ever be okay to even suggest something like that to someone else? Our lives are not spent in your company to push you further ahead than your competitors. It's spent trying to make a livable wage and working on our dreams.

In short, fuck you. Hire more people, pay better, and stop expecting 10, 11, 12 hour days from others. We do not live to serve you.

#priest's post-its #work

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kef-meister · 3 months ago

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There is a certain type of 'bad toy' that gets a chuckle out of me - the ones wanting to make a quick buck off of an existing IP and its licensed toys. You know the ones. I'm talking the "Green Samurai Warrior", as a clear Ninja Turtles reference where it's got wonky eyes, an off-color mask and the plastron is painted onto the front. Or how a Power Ranger gets sold as "Awesome Rainbow Fighter" in earnest because of the company clearly not wanting to get slapped in courts while still making a profit off of mass-produced stuff by underpaid workers. The 'knockoff cash grab' mentality is the joke. It gets a (bitter) chuckle out of me. Unless it's the kind with the Obvious Plant logo on it. That's forced jokes. Much like a fart, you don't force a joke: if you do, chances are it's actually shit.

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loveu001 · 2 years ago

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wc: 866

Formed By a Rumor- OO1/PETER X READER

TRIGGERS: ABUSIVE BF, ABUSE, BLOOD, OTHER STUFF. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT TRIGGERS YALL

Chapter one

A rumor is going around at the lab with you and 001. A rumor that you guys are dating and stuff. Which you arent of course.. I mean why would you? He's super attractive and charming and you always have had a teeny tiny crush on him, but nothing major.

He's one of your best friends at the lab. You start to wonder what would make people think that, But then it all starts flooding in. He was really flirty with you, like VERY flirty.

He would always give you little forehead and cheek kisses but you guys weren't actually dating him. Yeah you found him really hot and junk but you never had the guts to start a convo with him. He would always be the one to come up to you and get you all hot and bothered.

You were eating your lunch with your other co-worker friends at the lab and melissa brought up you and peter since it was the HOT TOPIC at the lab right now which made you annoyed like why can these snot nose fuckers talk about something else. “So, how are you and peter? Did he propose yet?”

She had to be joking. HIM?! PROPOSING TO YOU? That almost made you bust out laughing, but you held it in. You clear your throat and say, “err we are NOT dating..and no he erm didn't propose.” They just shrugged it off and got back to their conversation about how annoying the little kids here at the lab are.

You could feel Peter staring through your head. He didn't have feelings for you..yet. He just loved seeing you get all flustered and a hot mess. It got him hard kind of, not in a ‘i wanna screw you’ way. He just liked seeing your reactions. It was kinda a kink of his.

You guys didn't really interact around other fellow co-workers now that a rumor was going around. “Cmon sweetheart” he groaned. You loved these cute, adorable nicknames he gave you. They were kinda embarrassing though. When he used that baby talk tone with you.

“No buts, i'm tired of people asking if we are dating! It is starting to get on my nerves peter.” you sighed. “But they know we arent!! I'm just giving them what they want.” He exclaimed. You thought to yourself, what the fuck is he talking about. What they want. What the hell could they possibly want from us.

First off, they have never paid any attention to me. I was just another whore at the lab to them, AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON PETER. Everyone thinks hes the ultimate sex god or something. Listen, i dont know or care but he is honestly one of the most, bitchy, hot, teasing, annoying fucker ive EVERR met. I love him and all but overall its a love hate relationship.

“Whatever, I'm going home.” you argue. Home? What's that? You were currently living in an apartment. Brenner underpaid you but honestly, you didn't give a shit. Anything to be away from your abusive boyfriend you couldn't get away from. His name is Mark, AKA, the man you hated the most. You go home just to get beat with bear bottles.

You screamed and cried. But no one seemed to give a shit. You just had to take this abuse because there was nothing you could do. No one you could go to. Because no one had fucking cared. You wanted out of this relationship so badly. But if you left, he would kill you. That's what he said at least, and you didn't doubt it one bit.

At work the next day, you tried your best to cover up the bruises and cuts. They still stung. Even with the pain killers. I guess he meant it when he said he was gonna make your life hell. Because this sure hurt like hell. You were hurting all over. So badly it felt painful to even walk or sit down. No one even seemed a little concerned. Peter had got in late.

He couldn't even see the cuts because you covered them so well. You had gotten so good at covering them because this had happened so many times. You were ashamed of having this talent. You were never supposed to get this good at it. But he had noticed that you were limping a bit. “Oh my love.. Who did this…?” he whispers, so no one else would hear. “..” you stayed silent.

You were so scared to say who did this. Besides, he doesn't even know you have a boyfriend. (if you would even call it that.) He looks you in the eyes and gives a soft smile. “Don't tell me you tripped or some bullshit story. Darling, please tell me who did this to your beautiful body.” You were terrified of him. You had known Mark for years. It didn't start off like this though. He used to be so sweet and comforting to you. He had always made you think that its your fault that he was like this. And you did think that.

Chapter two

COMING SOON!!

#peter ballard #actors #anime #emotional abuse #abuse tw #001 smut #one stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things #steve harrington #fluff #seggsy #trending

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the-leegend-99 · 1 month ago

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You are still...off track. OP hasn't said anything that is in contrast with this point you just made. OP just pointed out that a lot of people are leftist not out of really wishing for a better, fairer and more rational system than capitalism (i.e. socialism), but just because they selfishly want their own situation to not be shit anymore, while still enjoying the various consumerist fluff that companies exploit the shit out of Global South countries to produce. It's nothing but Global North privilege, part of the material hegemony pf capitalism, and pne of the many tools that the bourgeoisie uses to keep Global North populations in line--and also a big part of its destabilization strategies towards socialist countries.

What you just described is the Marxist Theory of Value. And it IS true, but there is also the added component that...bananas *are* artificially cheap. Chiquita does do all those shitty practices to maximize its profits, BUT also pushes the prices down to maximize its market and railrpad competitors, because market dominance is just as important (if not sometimes more) than profit for the reproduction of capital. And to get the superprofits you talk about, since salaries and profits are always inversely proportional, its workers are not just underpaid, they're massively underpaid by orders of magnitude inconceivable to a Western worker.

This is imperialism, neocolonialism, and it is imperative for capitalism to shape it like this in order to survive, since as you pointed out, infinite and exponential growth is unsustainable (and unscientific). Global North populations need to be made beneficiaries of imperialism so that capitalism, through its myriad tactics, can be able to fragment their opposition into various different more or less manageable chunks.

And if we want to be any serious about creating socialism--something that is not "crazy and impossible", but something already existing in various forms in a few countries, and accomplished by people in places much less advanced than ours--we need to make it very clear to those who call themselves "leftists" that any improvement cannot come out of keeping other nations exploited, and thus a great deal of the consumerist feelgood fluff we're used to--which is so cheap only because of the neocolonial exploitation of Global South countries--will need to go away, in order to focus resources on climate and anti-colonial reparations and sustainable, people-centered development.

Sooner or later leftists will have to deal with the issue that capitalism has made many people used to wanton excess and sooner or later we'll have to legit tell everyone we can't have plastic treats and luxury produce or cruises instantly available year round and it's gonna make so many people mad and call you a big meanie worse than stalin over it. It will not be popular at all but someone's gotta hold a firm no or the planet will never stop collapsing. We can't save the planet by living exactly how we do now just with a communist banner over it we have to take a loss sorry, shein product cycles shouldn't have been normalized to begin with.

#socialism #communism #marxism #marxism leninism #material analysis

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jenojaemssss · 4 years ago

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happier

synopsis: in which mark was happier with you.

pairing: mark x reader (i attempted to write the mc as gender neutral, so lmk if there are any tips on how to be more considerate! i wanna be able to write as inclusively as possible heh)

genre/category: angst, exes!au

word count: 2.4k

a/n: i have an assignment due in like 20 minutes (so i did not get a chance to proofread!!) but i got distracted thinking about mark while listening to my 2017 simp playlist :D so here's a mini-fic (that was supposed to be a drabble) based on this song!

I saw you walk inside a bar.

When Mark looked up from the almost-empty bottle sitting in front of him, he didn’t expect to be greeted by the sight of you. But what caught him even more off guard was that you were entering the bar hand in hand with someone new.

You, not yet noticing your past lover's hunched figure, walk towards a set of empty bar stools, another man's arms wrapped around your waist like possessive belt. Mark began to stare then. He stared at what used to be his reason. What used to be the one who'd wake him up in the morning, who used to be his reason for coming home when the days were too long, yet somehow eventually bled into nights. He continued to stare at what had been his true source of happiness.

In his eyes, you still were. You were his only radiating source of light that made him feel warm. You were his comfort, like a warm blanket during a rainy day, or an iced tea when the weather was too hot to do anything else but lounge around the house with all fans on full blast.

He said something to make you laugh.

Mark noticed how the one that accompanied you looked at you with a small spark in his eyes as you cover your mouth in attempts to shield your erupting laughter. That was a cute habit of yours when you laughed, and he used to stare at you the same way; he was staring at you almost identically as he's sat across the bar at that moment. The only difference now was that Mark stopped being the reason for your bright smiles and warm laughter.

I noticed how both your smiles were twice as wide as ours.

The first encounter between the two of you would forever be engraved in the mind of Mark Lee.

He was walking around a lake during a camping trip with a few of his friends, mindlessly swinging his arms around to cool off. Mid swing, though, he made contact with something he later found out was your face. He apologized so many times that you had almost busted a lung laughing at the poor boy's terrified features.

Soon, Mark joined you, laughing in harmony because apparently being smacked in the face by someone was the funniest thing to the both of you. Mark proceeded to awkwardly ask for your contact information, hoping to make up for the mishap, and you complied because the man was so darn cute.

One meet-up (he never specified it as a date) turned into two, which turned into three, and soon, you were seeing each other everyday in a small cafe hidden within the corners of your shared campus.

The two of you attended the same university, but due to being in different departments, there was never really a chance to come across one another while running to your next classes, but this cafe was the one spot you two had in common.

The cafe meetings soon turned into cafe dates (he clarified this time that they were in fact, dates), and soon enough, you were both head over heels in love, moving in together as you approached your final years of college.

Mark and your's relationship wasn't perfect, but it was always so much fun. Mark was always able to make you laugh because of how awkward he was, and one time you to left him behind on a trip to the grocery store because he was so embarrassing, making stupid puns at the poor worker just trying to stock the shelves of the cereal aisle. That day, you bought a watermelon the size of both your heads combined to make up for leaving him behind.

Mark bitterly smiled at his recollection. That was one of the last times he and you were able to smile together.

You looked happier.

The last time Mark saw you, it was on a sunny, Saturday afternoon. You were on your way back from a trip to your local convenience store, bags of chips, a tub of ice cream, and boxes of candy spilling out of the watermelon themed reusable bag he had left behind after moving out. You were still wearing his hoodie, then. He left that behind for you too.

It made him smile, knowing that you kept it.

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you.

You felt as though you couldn't breathe. When you entered Mark and your shared apartment, you sensed that something was wrong; that something was missing from your normally warm environment. Mark and you have been arguing more frequently recently, and the night before, it was the worst it had been in years.

Mark had been going out later into the night, sleeping on couches of friend's houses more than in his own bed. Your shared bed. You more often than not woke up to nothing, the radiating warmth missing from your side.

You'd had enough of it, and confronted the man when he walked into the apartment at 2 am. Words spewed from either side, along the lines of "I'm sick of this" and "What is there to be sick of?" Mark ended up sleeping on the couch that night while you cried yourself to sleep, clutching Mark's pillow and attempting to hold onto what used to be the warm, delightful love of your life.

The next day when you woke up, he was gone. He texted you saying he had to leave early for work and that you should go ahead and start your day without him, and you did. You began planning ways to talk things out, to fix things with Mark over a nice dinner.

You set your plan to action and made your way to the local market. When you returned home and stepped foot into the kitchen, though, your eyes landed on a small note placed right in the center of the dining table. Written on that note in Mark's sloppy handwriting were the words, "I'm sorry, but I need to clear my head."

You dropped the note and ran into your bedroom, only to see that Mark had taken almost half of his belongings from the cramped space, along with one of the suitcases the two of you placed behind the closet when you first moved in. He was gone.

But ain't nobody love you like I do.

He'd been gone for about 10 days when you receive a call from Donghyuck. The brown-haired boy informed you that Mark has been sleeping on his couch for over a week and would be stopping by within the next few days to take up all of his friend's belongings he'd left behind.

You hummed, almost numbly, and before hanging up, you mustered up the courage to ask Donghyuck if Mark was currently there with him. He hummed in response, and you mumbled a good before dropping the line completely, falling to your knees and sobbing until you no longer had tears to let fall.

You were broken, and it was all because of Mark, yet a piece of you continuously hoped and prayed that he was safe. That he was living in a proper home with a place to sleep, and that he wasn't too cold because he often got cold very easily.

Mark, on the other end of the line, was silently holding in his cries as his best friend hung up the phone, disconnecting him from his one true love. Mark never intended to hurt you the way that he did, but in his mind, because he loved you so much, too much, he had to let you go.

He was noticing how much he was holding you back, from job opportunities to your social life, he believed he was the reason. He was the reason you declined the job offer in the neighboring city because that meant you'd have to either move out or drag Mark with you, and you chose on neither and stayed. He was the reason you never left the house on weekends because only then was he ever home. He was the reason you had bags under your eyes, he soon realized.

You'd been staying up night after night, waiting for him to come home. You'd been crying because he would come home with bags darker than yours. You'd been losing sleep because you spent too much of your time worrying about him.

He was holding you back by loving you.

So he decided to let you go.

Promise that I will not take it personal, baby.

A few months have passed and Mark's finally settled down in a new place in the town you had rejected the job offer from all those months ago. A part of him wished that moving away would offer you closure, knowing that Donghyuck explained his side of the story to you. Mark wanted so badly to be the one who spoke to you that day, but he was afraid of the confrontation. He was scared he'd break and hold you into his arms and promise to never let you go, bringing himself and you back into the endless loop.

So he left. He moved away and had Donghyuck clean up the mess he'd made. Mark owes him one.

The other part of him, though, hoped that you contacted the agency that offered you the job all those months ago. The selfish part of him prayed that the agency granted your request and offered you the job you passed up on in this new city. He hoped that you and him could start over in a different setting, and maybe a few years from now, run into each other again. You'd be in better places in your lives and the two of you could start over.

He knew he was hoping for too much, but oh a man can dream.

If you're moving on with someone new.

Mark was brought back to the present when he hears a loud shattering of glass. He averted his eyes towards the source of the ruckus and landed his eyes on you. He noticed how your eyes grew into large saucers when he displayed similar shocked features.

Shit.

He quickly and clumsily packed up his belongings as he waved down one of the waiters, asking for the tab. Noticing Mark's shaken composure accompanied by the glares being sent in his direction from the other side of the bar, the waiter sympathetically printed out the bill as fast as he could and didn't let out a peep when Mark underpaid about 10 bucks.

Mark rushed out of the bar, only to be caught by the sound of your voice calling out to him.

"Don't you dare run away." The voice was cold.

"Not again, Mark." It was almost shaking.

You caught up to the man. He turned around, slowly, wishing that this was all just a messed up dream, and the alcohol was only playing tricks with his mind.

Indeed, though, this was his reality. Mark remained silent, only staring at his feet as you approached him.

"Look at me," your voice was softer now, but he noticed the stern edge laced within your words. You were never one to raise your voice, not even when Mark would spew incredulous things at you during an argument. You were always calm.

Mark shifted his gaze from the ground towards your face and noticed you looked wiser. He noticed how your soft features were now more sharp. He noticed how you wore your hair differently. He noticed how you'd ditched your casual jeans and a shirt for something more business-casual. He noticed how your aura had changed into something more serious. He noticed every little change about you.

He also noticed how, beneath all the physical changes, you were still you. You still had the same stars in your eyes. You still had his favorite scent. You still had the same quip in your lip when you spoke. You still had the same smile.

You were smiling at him.

Mark finally managed to meet your eyes, and as you opened your mouth to speak, he cut you off before you could get a sound out.

"You look happier."

Your smile dropped a bit at his observation. He was right, you were happier than you were after the breakup. But you were happier when you were with him. Using other men to distract yourself from Mark worked for a while, but it was never the same.

It's been over a year, and you still missed him. You missed everything about Mark; his smile, his laugh, his posture when he was furiously typing away at his keyboard because he had an essay due in 10 minutes. You missed the way he'd sing to you at night when you woke up from a nightmare, and the way he'd pet down your hair when the two of you wake up in each other's arms after a nap.

And although you missed him, a part of you was still angry at him. Angry that he left without an explanation, and had Donghyuck be the bearer of bad news that he wanted you to be happier. That he wanted you to have a life not revolving around him and his actions.

A part of you hated how he was so selfish, and how he never looked to you for his decision. Yet the other, wiser, part of you was thankful. Thankful that he cared about you enough to let you go, cared about you enough to put your priorities above his own feelings for once. Most importantly, you were thankful that he was your first heartbreak.

Before he was the boy who broke your heart, he was a friend.

You tilt your head a bit sideways, plastered another smile and nodded in response.

"It's a process."

He smiled back, toothy grin warming your heart. "I'm glad you're doing okay."

Maybe it was the universe finally hearing Mark's wishes of starting over, or maybe it was just a mere coincidence that you ran into each other that day. But nonetheless, the encounter made him realize one thing.

"I was happier with you."

#mark lee #nct mark #nct 127 #nct dream #mark lee angst #mark angst #mark fic #mark scenarios #mark lee scenarios #nct dream fic #nct dream angst #nct 127 angst #mark lee fic #literally i'm just simping rn

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stonecoldhedwatches · 3 years ago

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A Christmas Prince (recap part 1)

Snack Factor: I think the first time I watched, I ate a shit tonne of crudités. This time, I had a cup of coffee.

Hoot Factor: 🦉🦉🦉🦉

Cringe: 🥴🥴🥴

Watchability: 🎥 🎥 🎥

Bechdel Test: ☑️ (just. Like genuinely, I had to really think about it, and even with saying yes, I’m not sure if it really does. But it’s a Christmas film: I’m giving it the benefit of the doubt)

Best character: Pretty much none of them.

Worst character: Amber. By a country fucking mile.

Overall ranking: This is painful, awful, terrible cinema. I can’t recommend it enough. Watch it while you get gently drunk on mulled wine with your friends/partner on a Sunday afternoon. Throw things at the screen.

Oh this film. I first watched it the year it came out with my university housemates, and it was a fucking riot. The plot is bad. I’m sorry, but the plot is so terrible. The sets are painfully ersatz. The acting is abysmal. I love every minute of it and I want to watch it into my grave.

We begin with some panoramic opening shots of New York City, overlaid with the most ugly, 1990s font you’ve ever seen. (Also yes, I watch everything with subtitles on. Sue me.)

The saturation is also super weird in this film so everything looks like it’s shot for a sit com.

We arrive at some Cool and Hip Magazine Offices where we hear someone talk about their upcoming article, "Ugly Christmas Sweaters of the Stars". The problem with things like this (less than 5 minutes in) is that it gets so close to being a pastiche of the way news media is represented in film… and falls short. Instead of satirising the image of a cut-throat magazine world where everyone’s overworked, underpaid and bitchy, it mimics it.

Anyway, we meet Amber, our heroine (I use that word lightly). Amber is a twenty-something blonde woman whose main personality is that she wears red Converse and works as a general dogsbody (junior editor) at a magazine called Now Beat (hateful). We’re also introduced to Amber’s best friends/co-workers/angel-and-demon-on-her-shoulders. Neither of them are given names, so at the moment, we’re calling them Pretty Black Lady, and Queer Coded Guy.

By the way, this film and these women’s lives would be significantly improved by one of them saying fuck every once in a while.

Amber gets called into her boss’ office. Her boss is a sharp, hard woman called Max—because, well, of course she is. I said it was a mimic. Max and Amber have a conversation that is just blatant exposition: they talk about the Royal Family of Aldovia (next door to Genovia, obviously), and how the king died last year and his heir, the prince, is a nightmare.

🎶 More exposition! 🎶 Also love that Max says things and Amber immediately clarifies their definitions because Who Among The Audience Will Know What An Interregnum Is? Spoon feeding, y’all.

Anyway, in an extremely convoluted plot line (seriously, we’re less than 4 minutes in), the Aldovian tradition is to have a year’s gap between its rulers. Apparently Hot Shot Prince Richard is due to return to Aldovia from swanning around the globe because they need a king by Christmas Day. There’s rumours of him abdicating, and Max wants Amber to cover the story.

Naturally, Amber has to doubt her abilities and why Max has chosen her (confidence in one’s abilities? Not for this woman, y’all). Max calls her hungry, driven, smart—and also says her other writers are busy. This is not as funny a joke as the writers think it is.

Amber then chats about Prince Richard to Pretty Black Lady and Queer Coded Guy, and they discuss his attractiveness. Queer Coded Guy obviously says that Prince Richard is everyone’s type, because queer men cannot be anything other than sex fiends. We find out that Amber is single after breaking up with Mysterious Brian (never mentioned again) a year ago. It is clear that her friends think she cannot be fulfilled without a man. Neither of them are good friends.

It’s also at this point that I start to doubt whether this film does pass the Bechdel test.

We then cut to Amber walking through snowy New York streets in her red Converse and a light trench coat. This woman has never seen winter.

The transitions are also appalling: I got whiplash at this point from the way it cut off a line from Jingle Bells as Amber walks towards a diner, to being inside the diner. Zero context. Turns out it’s Amber’s dad’s diner (Rudy), but we only find this out after a violently cringe moment where Amber pretends to just be a regular customer. I had forgotten this point, and thought about turning the film off, destroying my laptop, and taking to the woods.

My husband reminded me I had not had enough water today.

There then is more exposition about Amber and Rudy’s Christmas Eve traditions (omg it’s just so much boring life admin).

Rudy calls his daughter “Peanut”, which I think is questionable, but I shouldn’t judge. He tells her to go follow her dreams or some bullshit. Also, I think the chat about chilli is the only time someone’s not talked about a man, and like… it’s chilli. The only interesting thing I've learned from this is that Brits and Americans spell chil(l)i differently.

Yet more whiplash, now we've got a plane montage. Y'all, we are six minutes in.

We're now in Aldovia. No one actually has demonstrated where Aldovia is. It's implied Europe, but for the life of me, I can't work out how the flight times/time zones work for it to be the level of daylight it is (because of when Max said the prince would be arriving: see next paragraph). This is not important, though. Also see what I mean about the shitty sets?

Obvs there's lots of paparazzi waiting for the prince outside the airport as Amber arrives. Apparently he's late. A mysterious figure cuts in line ahead of Amber for a cab. Why, whoever could it be?

Anyway, lots of montage scenes of pretty alpine villages, boring chat in the press bus with an English guy, the tackiest Christmas decorations you’ve ever seen, and Amber’s arrived at the palace. The press conference with the Prince is cancelled. Amber is extremely stressed.

I’m also stressed, because she’s still wearing her fucking red Converse. There is snow on the ground, and you’re about to see royalty, Amber. Just put some effort in, woman.

Somehow, Amber sneaks into the palace, like there wouldn’t be a million security guards? It’s at this point I remember how stupid this film is. I check how much longer I have to go til the end. 1 hour, 22 minutes. I consider my life choices.

Anyway, Amber gets caught. But, she somehow managed to blag her way into the palace by saying she’s a tutor for the princess. Actually, that’s a lie. Amber doesn’t blag her way anywhere; she’s not got enough gumption for that. The housekeeper assumes that she’s a governess and just invites her inside, no big deal.

This family deserve for their belongings to be stolen. Their security is appalling.

Right, that’s all I have time for today, but I shall continue with this tomorrow! Now I have to go help my husband rip out some floorboards.

#a christmas prince #stonecoldhedwig #movies #films #netflix #christmas #christmas films #y'all this one is not as good as I remember

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kouhaiofcolor · 3 years ago

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Advise plzzz: I just quit my retail job. The management is trash and talked to their employees any kind of way. They were also extremely racist bc any minority of color was apparently “stealing” from the store. They even accused me (a black women) of stealing $ from the register and the head manager said I was being “too vague” & “defensive” about the situation. One of my former coworkers said that the “employee who was being vague & defensive is the main suspect” from the managers.” They took me off the registers & claimed they never did to make me seem “crazy.” I got feed up and just left. Once they called they asked why, & as I was explaining myself, they hung up on me bc they claimed that I was talking to them “any kind of way.” They were try to fast talk me in the conversation & tried to make me seem like I was crazy, so my (black) mother took the phone & started talking to them. The claimed that she was yelling & started attacking them on phone. The gaslighted my mother & I to make it seem like “I was crazy.”

Did I do the right thing?

First off, i'm sorry you had to endure any of this while working period. How shitty this country is set up to where workers' mental health be so compromised having to work for greedy ass corporations & dangerously biased ass employers is the #1 reason i dont believe in just staying at a job if the environment is toxic; esp around racial issues or being underpaid for the work demand. these companies do not deserve loyal workers. least of all black ones. i'll leave a job in a heartbeat as soon as ive got something else for sure set & waiting for me. no two week's notice either cus i also condone making it just as hard for companies to replace workers as they do for ppl to get employed w/o kissing a ton of ass & sacrificing so much to do so.

The gaslighting you definitely experienced I apologize for as well. I see no valid reason for them to have been so short w you on the phone, either. For sure sounds like whoever called you, esp if it was a manager, was a bitch on average too to hang up on you like that. Unprofessional af lol. I don't wanna assume they were white but i wouldn't be surprised if they were. I hate giving advice that's ultimately unyielding (since i can't really tell you to like, not go back to work given that survival depends on that & all). All i can advise is that you look for another job as soon as possible -- but also take care of your mental health following this clear misogynoir both you & your mom were subjected to. I know black women never really get opportunities to recover from antiblack experiences like this in environments where professionalism calls for our silence & tolerance of misogynoir in our faces as well as behind our backs, & i'm sorry for the pressure that imposes on us too to just.... wordlessly absorb being dehumanized & move on like it doesn't even matter.

Maybe if you can tho, try & document this issue w the company's HR department. Give names specifically as to who handled you this way, even if it may feel redundant given that you've quit. Ppl ought to be held accountable for handling workers nasty period -- but i genuinely believe that applies tenfold for being racially discriminated against where you work. It takes time & energy & commitment to start over & find another job -- which employers don't give a fuck ab at all. they don't care if it interferes w how you're able to keep a roof over your head or pay bills on time; they don't give a shit if you're already socioeconomically disadvantaged & it's easily made that much harder for you to survive following circumstances like this.

You did nothing wrong. Fuck them ppl. Sincerely hope you find something better & they get the karma they deserve for treating you & your mother like that.

#anon #ask #misogynoir #antiblackness #workplace discrimination #protect black women #protect black girls #gaslighting #anti capitalism

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detectivedreameater · 4 years ago

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Misery Loves Meals || Miriam and Marley

TIMING: A week ago PARTIES: @meflemming and @detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Marley and Miriam meet up for a battle of wits, but soon realize their similarities and come to an agreement. CONTENT: Head trauma mention, Slight body horror description

Usually, Miriam only stopped by Al’s restaurant to pick up to-go orders for Elle on nights that her assistant stayed at Miriam’s house, but that hadn’t been for several weeks, now, seeing as how someone was almost always home. She was a bit unused to the tacky vinyl booths as she sat, warming her hands on a mug of coffee that she could smell had been brewed too weak. She was curious about this stranger she was meeting with on the internet; someone who had clearly reached out to her at the wrong time. It was, perhaps, a bad habit of Miriam’s, to fight with people using barbed words when she felt any sort of negative emotion. But better to do this than to go out and make another mess. She told herself that was the reason she hadn’t been out to feed since the incident with Morgan; she’d been dropping far too many bodies, even though she’d cut back on hunting quite a lot in the last few months. She simply needed to cut back more. Even if it left her irritable. This was nothing compared to twenty years spent starving in a mausoleum, and she’d chosen to do that, too. She heard the door open and glanced up, seeing a head of dark hair and a leather jacket walk through. She schooled her face into a pleasant smile. “Hello. Marley, I assume?”

After everything that had happened-- or, more accurately, everything Marley had done-- she really needed a way to let out some steam. Usually she had two methods of doing that: 1) angry sex. Was there really anything better than that, to get out all your aggression? She wasn’t sure. And 2) feeding on someone who she thought deserved it. But seeing as both those options were things she found herself not wanting to do, Marley was stuck in a vicarious position. Not to mention that her abilities had been thrown completely out of whack lately, more so than she’d noticed before. She’d thought maybe she was getting better, but at this point, it almost seemed as if the opposite were true. And she didn’t like that thought at all. So then what was this meeting with Mim Flemming? She wasn’t sure. She wanted to try and feed on her, just a little bit, to make sure she wasn’t getting worse. That was all, right? It would only be a little bit. She’d stop before it got too far, like with Deirdre, like with Nadia, like with Lydia. She’d stop. And so it was with this that she entered Al’s, her best leather jacket adorned, sunglasses snug on her face. She spotted Mim right away and stopped at the edge of the booth. “If I’m Marley, that must make you Mim, then,” she held out her hand, “pleasure to meet you. Is this seat taken?”:

“I suppose it does,” Miriam said with a small laugh, taking Marley’s hand and giving it the kind of firm handshake she’d been taught to give in the business world. She looked this woman over, just as keen to read her as Marley was probably keen to read Miriam. A nice jacket, though Miriam knew she could make better and sunglass on despite it being both night time and indoors. It was curious, but not something Miriam was willing to comment on just yet. “It’s wonderful to meet you, as well. It’s not taken at all, please, have a seat.” She settled in, picking up her mug and taking a sip of coffee. Yes, she’d been right. It wasn’t brewed nearly strong enough. She’d have to simply suffer through it. “How rude of me. Would you like something? Coffee? Tea? I believe the food here is also enjoyable?” Though, they weren’t here to enjoy the atmosphere of Al’s, were they? Marley was here because she believed she could read Miriam after one single, insignificant online interaction, and Miriam was here to prove this woman wrong.

Just the pose Miriam was sitting in told Marley enough to know what kind of woman she was meeting here. The confidence, the gravitas, the commanding energy-- this was a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it. White business men probably called her a “bitch”, and if Marley hadn’t been so in her head lately, she would’ve been just her type. After she shook her hand-- strong, firm-- Marley sat across from her and settled into the booth, her skin prickling ever so slightly as she remembered all the times she’d come here with Anita. Swallowing, she grinned back at the other woman. “Coffee would be great,” she answered, noting that the other woman also was drinking coffee, late at night. Either she was a nightshift worker, or she was part of the night life here. She hazarded a guess it was the latter. “It’s got decent food, I’ve heard. I mostly just come here in the mornings before work. I take it you’ve never been here, then?”

Waving down a waitress, Miriam gave a smile and asked, “Could I get another coffee for my friend here? Thank you, darling.” She turned back to Marley, taking in the other woman’s mannerisms once more, the way the woman seemed to shake her head as if clearing it. She had a nice smile, though, if somewhat blocked by the glasses she still didn’t take off, something that Miriam found curiouser and curiouser. “I often get food to go from here, but it’s rarely for myself.” Though, she’d been to Al’s plenty of times, in her youth. Honestly, it hadn’t changed at all, since then. Neither had Al, if she thought about it. “My assistant enjoys their onion rings. I have a few dietary restrictions, unfortunately, that make it harder for me to enjoy the food they offer here.” She took another sip of coffee at that. “I have no doubt it’s good food, though. What is it you do? For work, I mean.”

“Do you often get food for your assistant, then? Isn’t that supposed to be the other way around?” Marley asked. It was a simple question, but a probing one. The way people answer simple questions could give away a lot about them, and Marley wanted to be sure that she knew everything she could about this woman before diving in. It would be easy enough, though, to pry through her fears. The waitress returned momentarily with Marley’s coffee and she wrapped her hands around the cup, breathing in the bitter scent for a moment before taking a sip. “Dietary restrictions? I understand that, I’ve got a few myself.” She set the cup down and tapped the side of it, pondering a moment. “I’m a detective,” she answered after a short, purposeful pause, “I work at the WCPD.” At least, on good days she did. Right now, those were few and far between.

“Occasionally, yes.” Miriam gave Marley a small grin. “Perhaps, but if I have her doing something for me, I’d rather go and get something for her than have her stop in the middle of work.” Besides, it was so much easier to have something waiting for Elle at the house if she was watching it for the night. Not that there was much need for that, at this point. Not with Evelyn staying with her most nights. Not with Miriam only going out to pretend like she was hunting. She felt neutered; a witch hunter that didn’t even hunt witches. If she kept this up, they’d begin to think that she’d left again. “It’s rather unfortunate. I can’t eat most things, and what I do just doesn’t taste that good. I try to keep to the Paleo diet, I believe it’s called. For my health. And yourself?” A detective, huh? This one was quite different from Agatha, with her serious demeanor and intent focus on her work. Marley seemed… perhaps laid back wasn’t the right word, but certainly not so tightly wound. “WCPD? I’m sure you see quite a lot of interesting cases.”

“Hmm. Now, you seem like the kind of boss all underpaid assistants need. How sweet of you,” Marley said, stirring her coffee even though there was nothing in it to mix in. She took another sip, contemplating. “Paleo? That’s rather intense. I have a thing about salt,” she said, “I have to be very careful with it, and salt is in most food, so it’s really hard.” She shrugged. Most people didn’t often connect salt with mara, but she also didn’t mind someone thinking, perhaps, she was a ghost. She’d love to watch them waggle an iron rod at her and then balk when nothing happened. The thought made her grin. What she wanted most, though, was to know what made Miriam tick. She had a slight read on her already, but she still needed more. She didn’t wanna cheat, after all. She leaned her chin on her palm, staring across the table at Miriam. “Oh, yeah. You have no idea. We see some crazy ass shit. This town is just full of surprises. How long have you lived here?”

“It’s purely for pragmatic reasons, I assure you,” Miriam said, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her head in her hands. She smirked. “As I said, it’s easier to let her work and get it myself.” It wouldn’t do for just any stranger off the street to think that Miriam was anything more than a hardass. She had a reputation to uphold: charming, polite, distant. Shrewd business owners did not take time out of their schedules to go pick up food for their assistants. Usually, it was the other way around, even if their diet was as limited as Miriam’s was. “It’s really not so bad. I’ve gotten used to it over the years. Salt?” She raised an eyebrow, ever so slightly. She knew quite a bit about things with salt. She’d been careful, making sure that there wasn’t any in her home as soon as she knew that Evelyn was going to be staying for an extended period of time. All of the strange, overly salted snacks Elle kept around? Packaged up and sent home with the girl within an hour. “It’s good to keep things low sodium, I personally think. I try to avoid it myself.” Marley was so confident, so sure of herself, at least on the surface. “I’m sure I can’t imagine.” Though, she could. She knew she could. She had no doubt some poor, unsuspecting officer had stumbled upon her handiwork at least once. She tried not to linger on that thought, to let it seep into her head and make her regret. Instead, she eased back, relaxed, and lied. “Oh, about a year now, and it truly is something else. I can’t imagine there’s anywhere else quite like it, here.”

Pragmatic, huh? Marley’s brows rose at the word. She doubted that was the entire motive behind it, Mim was a woman of few words, but they were chosen carefully. And when someone chose their words like that, it meant they were trying to put out a certain persona. One that Marley could easily see through. She mirrored Miriam’s posture, only leaning on elbow on the table, however, and tracing the rim of her cup with one finger. “So you’ve been dealing with this for a long time, then? Your dietary condition?” She was already putting the pieces together-- Miriam was definitely not human. Now, if only she could figure out what kind of not-human she was. A creature of the night, probably, but there were many of those. The paleo diet could mean a plethora of things as well. She was not mara, unless she was wearing contacts, but she didn’t have any of the signs. Marley looked at the salt shaker on the table before glancing back to Miriam. “Do you now?” Maybe she was a mara. Marley had come to find many of them preferred wearing contacts over glasses-- it was much easier to accidentally lose your glasses. Suddenly, Miriam’s body language changed and Marley’s senses tingled-- a lie. Why would she lie about how long she’d been here? A change in baseline behavior was never wrong, though. “Only a year? How are you adjusting? And you’re right about that-- White Crest certainly has a unique atmosphere. And the nightlife really isn’t like anywhere else.”

“A couple of years now, yes,” Miriam said easily. “It’s rather annoying, at times, but nothing so egregious.” She took a sip of her coffee, still displeased by its lack of flavor. “I can still enjoy a nice brew, which is lovely.” Even if this wasn’t a particularly nice brew. She watched Marley’s eyes move behind the glasses and followed them to the salt shaker. Curiouser and curiouser. “I do, yes. Do you have any idea the amount of damage sodium reaps on the body. Horrible, simply horrible.” She smirked. Not that it would hurt her; it would just hurt someone that she, well, cared about. And it was apparently interesting to this stranger. “Give or take, yes. It’s been a rather strange year. But I like to think I’m adjusting well; moved into an old family home, took over an old family business. It feels like I’ve been here forever.” That was, perhaps, a bit too on the nose, but Miriam didn’t care. This was a fun game. Certainly more fun than she’d been able to have without her usual fare of slaughtering people. “The nightlife is truly phenomenal. It’s amazing how this little town comes alive at night.”

A couple of years. That wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t the entire truth, but Marley could tell it wasn’t a full lie. So, probably not a mara. If she was, it would have been affecting her her entire life. Marley felt a twinge of disappointment, but it was soon replaced with eagerness. She could get a small meal out of this if she played it right. Just a little glare. Nothing big or long or damaging. Just enough to get her by for the weekend. “As long as I can have coffee, I don’t mind not being able to eat much, so amen to that,” she said, raising her glass and taking a long sip. It was thick and bitter, just like she liked it. Al’s had trained her in to liking it that way. “Hmm, the town has a way of doing that to you, doesn’t it? I remember my first month here felt like an entire year. I think I worked more overtime that month than the rest of my life combined.” Another thoughtful sip, as she regarded the other woman. Family business, new to town, nightlife. Something didn’t add up here. Marley leaned forward, elbows on the table. “So what’s your poison, then, Mim?” Hushed her voice. “Brains or blood or booze?”

Miriam smirked and raised her glass along with Marley. “I agree completely.” Even if caffeine was pointless, there was something about drinking coffee, about warming her perpetually cold hands around a warm mug or cup that made her feel alive. “It does, yes. Time seems to both slow and speed up impossibly around here. I hope you were paid well for all of that. Overtime on the police force in this town seems like an absolute bitch.” She cocked her head a bit to the side. “And how long have you lived here? I’d say I’m surprised to have not seen you around, but I do my best to stay on the right side of the law.” She gave Marley her most charming grin, always just a bit lopsided with the way her mouth was shaped, a trait she’d inherited from her mother. Months before, she might have winked, might have leaned forward, allowed her eyelids to fall forward just a bit. But her heart wasn’t in it. Even before the situation with Morgan, she’d found herself less inclined to flirt, and when she did, she felt a bit guilty, thinking about how much she’d rather be at her home with someone that she maybe, just maybe, cared about. It was ridiculous. Instead, she cocked her head a bit. Well, it’s not like she was being subtle. “Oh, booze, without a doubt.” She let her eyes flash red, much as she had the first night she met Evelyn. “I need more of it than I once did, but definitely booze. And you, Marley? Salt allergies are rather unusual. Do you also go bump in the night?”

Marley’s whole body was tingling. Her mind wasn’t even registering the rest of the conversation, because she could feel herself craving to taste her fear. It had been so long since she’d fed intentionally, she could feel her heartbeat increasing. Blood racing, breath picking up. She wanted to do it so bad, it would feel so good. After all the shit that had been going on, fighting with Anita, messing up with Erin, yelling at Dakota-- she needed this. She deserved this. And it would just be a little bit, right? Just a little flash. Just a little taste. She wasn’t even thrown or surprised by Miriam’s flash of red-- not mara, but vampire. What kind? Marley didn’t care. She’d dealt with vampires before. She could not hurt her here, Marley was untouchable. And for the first time in a long time, Marley felt powerful. “You know what they say,” she answered slowly, removing her glasses, “I’m a walking nightmare.” And she met Miriam’s gaze, red eyes to red-- but she didn’t pull the trigger. Couldn’t. Something was stopping her. Hesitation or tentativeness or-- guilt. She swallowed, tried to thing of a way to salvage the situation. “I take it you’ve met a mara before,” she said, sliding her glasses back on, looking away. “Don’t suppose you’d volunteer to be a meal, would you?”

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself, darling. I think you’re quite a delight.” But Miriam was grinning as the words left her mouth, overly pleased with the way this encounter had turned out, along with the fact that she’d properly been able to identify another supernatural, especially one that she’d never heard of prior to the last year such as a mara. She gazed at the other woman curiously, still pleased at the way this conversation had ended up going. Here she thought she was going to be dealing with some overconfident bitch on the internet, but Marley was interesting company, and polite on top of it. This was unexpected indeed. “I’ve met a mara or two, yes. I know one quite well.” Her lips twitched a bit as she mulled over Marley’s question. “Can you? Make a meal out of me, I mean. I don’t sleep, so I don’t exactly have nightmares. You’re welcome to try, though. I’m rather curious as to what you’d see. I only ask that you help me, as well.” With every day that passed, blood was doing less and less to sustain her. She needed fear, pain, negative emotions. “Not blood,” she said, quietly. “But, perhaps, my misery in exchange for yours?”

“I can,” Marley stated simply, “we don’t feed exclusively on nightmares. Just one look,” she tapped the side of her head indicating her glowing, red eyes, “and you’ll see your worst fears manifested here in this booth. And the fear you feel from it-- that’s what I feed on.” She used to take pride in explaining her powers, used to take pride in the fact that she could drop a six foot five tall man with only a glance-- but now it felt hollow. They felt...dark. Her powers were only able to hurt. Never help, never heal. And they’d failed her when she needed them most, and now they rarely worked right. She looked back across the table at Miriam. “Misery? I’ve never heard of a vampire that can feed on that.” She gave a little scoff, “You wouldn’t like my blood, anyway. According to another vampire who thought it would be fun to take a bite out of me, my blood tastes like dirt and it makes you hallucinate.” She stirred her coffee once more, contemplating. “How does it work?” she asked, tapping her cup now. “Will I feel it?” And she wasn’t sure what answer she wanted, because she desperately wanted to feel something other than this misery.

“Well, that’s convenient. The world is your buffett.” Miriam couldn’t help but be just a little jealous, especially after years of thinking that she had to exclusively feed off of witches. Or people that she thought were witches. What a fool she’d been. Perhaps, if she could feed off of Marley, it’d been that she could maybe, just maybe, not have to feel miserably hungry all the time. “I must admit, I’m curious as to what those fears would be. I haven’t been properly afraid of anything in a very long time. Alright. You can do it.” There was little to fear, she’d found, when she didn’t give a shit about what people would think. Except, now, she did give a shit. She had reasons to give a shit. It was kind of annoying. “I’m not a normal vampire, unfortunately. It’d be much, much simpler. But dirt and hallucinations sound a bit too much like a Grateful Dead concert than is to my liking. I’ll think I’ll pass.” She wrinkled up her nose. “I’ve… never done it in a controlled environment, I’ll admit. But you would feel it, and I would cause it.” She smirked. “Perhaps you’ll be miserable just being inside my head.”

“It should be,” Marley answered quietly, “but it’s not that simple.” If only it were. For so long, she’d let herself just feed on whoever she thought deserved it. People who acted preyed on others in bars, or criminals who got away with it. People who thought they were better than everyone else. She thought back to Deirdre, and how her fears had manifested and how nice they had tasted. She remembered her begging Marley to stop and Marley, selfish and angry, had kept going. She remembered Nadia’s nightmare, being dragged through a life crumbling apart because of a ghost. She remembered all the people she destroyed just to get a meal. She removed her glasses slowly-- if she wanted to change, she needed to practice, right? “Just a little glimpse is all I need,” she said with an even breath. “I’d hate for you to have to relive the 70’s. I also don’t appreciate biting as much as one would think,” she said with a wry grin, shallow and ghostly on her face, opposite Miriam’s smirk. “Good,” she said, “I want to feel it.” Rolled her neck before looking back at her. “Who first?”

“Nothing ever is,” Miriam murmured. If her heart still beat, she imagined it would have been a bit faster than normal, both from the conversation and from anticipation. She had no idea how this was going to go, what she was getting herself into. Hadn’t she dealt with enough nightmares back in the summer? She should know, just from that, what it was that Marley would likely see. But she’d changed some, since then, had new worries, new concerns. What was she afraid of? She knew, but she never touched that. It had always been important to Miriam to never, never be afraid. Fear was weakness. Weakness was not tolerated. Not when dealing with men that didn’t believe a young woman had any place running a profitable business. Not when overhearing your husband talk about how he was just using you for your money. Not when you stared him in the eyes as you killed him slowly, hands shaking the entire time. She couldn’t be weak, she couldn’t have fears. “Take whatever you need, darling,” She said, her tone seemingly careless. “Who knows? You might get a good look at just how bad the 70s were.” She raised an eyebrow. “You go first. I’m… still figuring out how I’m going to do this without physically harming you.” She gave Marley a tight, fanged grin.

“The 70;s, huh?” Marley answered, readjusting her eyes to look back over at Miriam. She didn’t meet her gaze quite yet, worried she might trigger the gaze too soon, but made sure to look at her enough that she would get to see her eyes shining before it happened. While they usually brought her shame, she’d been learning to accept that part of herself. Slowly, but surely. Maybe one day she could even come to like them, to enjoy them the same way Anita used to look at her. The thought made her heart clench and she looked away again. “Brace yourself,” she said, pushing her coffee cup away in case things got...difficult. “And I'm sorry in advance.” Because this wasn’t going to be fun, for either of them. But when she lifted her gaze, she was ready-- she let the power flow through her and centered it in her eyes and when she opened them, she let Miriam fall into her fears, and she fell after her.

“Hmm,” Miriam hummed as she prepared for whatever was about to happen. There was no need to apologize for this, she thought, especially since she’d asked for it, been curious about it. Then, meeting Marley’s gaze, she waited. At first, nothing. The restaurant didn’t change. It was still just the two of them sitting in the booth. She raised her eyebrows, underwhelmed. But Miriam looked down at her hands. Her left hand was turning gray, the sickly shade of gray that she had remembered from years of being in the mausoleum. She attempted to twitch her fingers, but they wouldn’t move. The skin on her right hand was beginning to flay itself away from her skin, and Miriam did not need to breathe, but she did all the same, sharply, tightly, a strangle in her throat. She meant to look up at Marley, to say that it was enough, but the man sitting in the booth beside the mara made Miriam pause.

“You deserve this, Miriam,” Theo said, his voice dead, his eyes dead, everything about him dead. “You deserve this.” His voice was joined by Gillian’s, by his parents’, by her own, by Thomas Klein, Morgan,, Elle, Evelyn, her own, and, most damningly, Miriam knew that it was the truth. She deserved to suffer for all the suffering she’d put so many though. It suited her that one of her biggest fears was something that she knew would eventually come to pass: the judgement and damnation of everyone, even the people she cared about.

Eyes clenched tight, Miriam said, “Stop. Stop. Please stop.” The voices didn’t. They just kept echoing, blaming, buzzing around in her head like wasps. Miriam could feel her fangs dig into her tongue, dark bitter blood filling her mouth. If she opened her eyes, they’d be just as red as Marley’s. Shutting her eyes didn’t keep the image away.

The thing about fear was that everyone was afraid of something. Sometimes it was something easy, like spiders or fire or walls closing in. Sometimes they were more complicated, like a falling from a height, or lightning, or drowning. And sometimes, they were so psychologically imbued, it even threw Marley for a loop. She watched as Miriam’s skin turned grey. She watched as it burned away from her muscle, sinew and bone left behind. She heard the voices calling out to her, telling her she deserved this. Telling her she was cruel. Telling her she was a monster. Marley’s heart jolted.

Stop. Stop. Please stop. She blinked so heavily the world tilted sideways. Shook her head furiously and tore her gaze away from Miriam. “Fuck,” she hissed, pressing her palms to her eyes. Fuck, she hated that. It was like facing her own damn fears. She could feel Miriam’s fear in such a visceral manner it made her stomach churn. If things had been reversed, it just would have been Erin sitting there. And Anita, and Agatha, and Jane. And Deirdre, glaring down at her with those judgemental eyes, telling her she deserved this. That she deserved to suffer. All because she hadn’t stopped. Once, just once.

Marley didn’t look back up at Miriam until she’d put her glasses back on. Looks like they were both monsters of their own making. She let out a breath. “If it helps, you can hurt me,” she muttered quietly, “you can’t actually do any damage to me at night.”

As the voices faded, and Miriam found that she could move her hands again, she went completely still, head bowed. She didn’t breathe, didn’t do anything but collect herself for a moment or two or three. Slowly, her fangs went away. She could feel the redness fading from her irises, though she felt tears in her eyes. When she started moving again, Miriam blinked them away and looked up. Marley looked just as miserable as Miriam felt. Marley felt as miserable as Miriam felt. How ironic. Miriam’s nightmares ended up causing Marley’s distress, leaving them both with a meal. Lovely, both of them were fed, and both of them felt absolutely shitty because of it. “No need,” she said, surprised by how rough her voice sounded. “Tragically, this is the best I’ve felt in days. I think that was beneficial for both of us.” Even if it had been positively wretched. Still, she hadn’t been able to properly feed in weeks, too overcome by something that equated to a conscience to do anything more than lie about what she was doing and sit in her car for hours on end. This was, sadly, what her best looked like. “I think that hurt you enough.”

Marley hated that that was a true statement. It did hurt her, a lot. She hated that she had to do that to feed, she hated that she had to tear people’s minds apart just to survive. Peter always preached about feeding safely and thoughtfully, but how was that possible when just one feeding could do that to someone. When just one look could cripple someone for days. She glanced across the table miserably before leaning forward to grab her coffee and downing it. “Yeah,” she sighed heavily, “sure did.” She slid her coffee cup back to the middle of the table and ran her hands through her hair. “Misery loves company, right?” she sat up, then and started sliding from the booth. “Glad we both got our fill. Same time next week?” she asked, pulling out her wallet and throwing down some cash onto the table. She gave Miriam a steady glance from behind her glasses. Lowered her voice, trying to soften it, despite the heaviness in her chest. “It can be like monster rehab, right? If we’re not hurting other people, it’s gotta be better than suffering alone.”

“It certainly does,” Miriam said, wrapping her hand around her mug even though it had long ago lost its heat. Sighing, she stood up as well. There was no reason to stay and, once the lingering fear and disgust died down, she’d be doing a lot better than she had before coming here. The night hadn’t quite gone the way she expected, but she couldn’t say that she was displeased with the outcome. She laughed, the sound humorless in the back of her throat. “I look forward to it.” She gave Marley a tight nod. “Monster rehab. I suppose it’s about time I tried it. Thank you, Marley. See you next week. I’ll pay next time.” With that, Miriam headed out. She met up with the waitress on the way out, thanking her for the coffee with a smile that was more sincere than the one she’d given when she came in. On the way to her car, she shook her head. Monster rehab. Perhaps this wasn’t quite what she’d been thinking, when she’d just decided to go cold turkey on feeding, but it certainly was a solution. And, Marley was right; they weren’t suffering alone. If they could both benefit from this arrangement, it couldn’t be bad. She got in her car, turned on the heat, and got ready to head home. The ache in her stomach had dulled, even if the one in her chest had grown.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #miriam #misery loves meals #chatzy: miriam #head trauma mention tw #//so many m's in this title lmfao

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