#bitch you know our company is all over social media because everyone thinks the pay is misserable and the contitions exploitative

[suck-mein-pokeballs]

If you use your position of power at work to fuck with people's income or bonuses over small technicalities I fucking hate you and you fucking suck just fyi

[the-bjd-community-confess]

More Divaz confos

Mod: Round two of these, previously: link. There’s some interesting customer reviews in this batch (5 and 8) which may be useful to readers.

1.Vic3mage "the secret bjdivaz vip group is just pictures of boxes coming in and going out". Yeah, between the bitching about d0llshe, asking people to post on doa for them, dunking on ex-customers, posting pics of random doll parts that they can't identify which doll they're supposed to go with, whining about how little money they make, whining when ppl e-mail them, whining. Yeah, other than that it's just boxes, and alpacas u can buy off amazon anyway lol.

~Anonymous

2.The butthurt users crying and guilttripping under every Divaz confession who have never been seen before elsewhere on this blog are extremely unsuspicious and unproblematic and definitely unconnected to Divaz and unbiased in every possible way

/s

~Anonymous

3.idk shit abt bjd1vas but v1cemage i can absolutely tell you the shit about ch0o is 100% accurate, fucker's got a long, long history of being an awful little man that stretches well beyond his involvement in the doll community. between the two i'd still trust bjd1vas over ch00 ch00 the fool any day!

~Anonymous

4.The Z3st and Div4s thing is really silly and both entities were being shady but did they really have to take the DZ waiting room down with them? :( He had even made a separate thread about it......

~Anonymous 

5. RE: BJD Divaz

I’ve been a customer of BJD Divaz since they first started, when it was only run by Chart3rline. I even contacted other BJD companies trying to persuade them to work with Divaz as their US representative. Most declined because they didnt like D's commission fee, but I was able to persuade a few of them.

I asked them to purchase a doll off DOA because I couldnt afford the asking price, and while they did, I found out later that instead of agreeing to purchase the seller's price, they negotiated the price to be lower. This significantly cheaper price was not passed down to me. I paid the full price +the commission fee based on that full price. I am disappointed I was not told this. This is when I stopped viewing them as a "friend" and instead, as a business. I dont hold this against them, it’s context to what Im going to say later.

I’ve stopped purchasing from D after my recent order from them. This company usually takes 3 or less months to make a doll. I’ve ordered the doll from D and it took 11 months. They let me know it arrived to them in March and that it will be shipped soon, except it only shipped on July, and only after I sent them several "reminder" emails. Before people in the comments try to put the blame on me for not sending a reminder soon, please keep in mind that I acknowledged the email in March and confirmed everything and they keep stressing to not send them emails because they are busy, I’ve emailed once every month since. I’ve since switched to ACBJD and Ive been happy with communication and the dolls ordered. I imagine ACBJD gets the same amount of emails, but they dont berate their customers if they email more than once.

I regret when people wanted a D0llshe, but not deal with him, I always recommended D. I would warn people of ordering directly and instead go through D. They assured buyers they would be handling communication and all the efforts so they wouldnt worry, except they didn’t. A person that I’ve recommended D to, who surpassed 2 years, keeps messaging me for help because D wouldnt reply to their emails. She is respectful, sweet and a timid person, not a Karen. This person, emailed D without a reply so would email a week later, only to be told that their email would be pushed down to the bottom if emailed again. No response, so she goes to FB and IG, who both tell her to email because they arent the person running orders. Finally got a response that they would get their refund, after D0llshe sends D's payment, but minus the PP fees. 3 months later and theres no refund, only a promise of them getting it later. Why is the customer missing out on fees when they have no doll? Customer emails d0llshe and he says he cant offer refund, because they didn’t order through them, which is understandable, but when all options are out for a customer, do you blame them for chargebacks?

If anyone files a chargeback, D will be blacklisting them from every company they rep, as in blacklisting you from buying direct from those companies. I urge everyone who has negative experiences with D to email the companies they rep instead of venting on confession blogs, and writing your experiences on social media. Make it count and send letters to the companies they represent, and please provide proof because they will try to make you out to be a liar.

Speaking of, they made vague posts on cl0ver singing for charging paypal fees, and that they offer guarantees as an official dealer, except when offering refunds, to non delivered products I might add, they are keeping the fees, and offered no help with d0llshe, even before they ended their dealership with them. Someone on DOA was told to not email them unless the wait time surpassed 1.5 years. They are even so petty that they post screenshots with the full name and address (dox) of the customer on purpose and then delete it out a day later as if they just realized their "mistake".

Before you try to make excuses for them about the fires, keep in mind, I am dealing with a business. The lower price negotiation with the DOA sale, I am in no way obligated to give them a pass or treat them as a friend when they made it clear that our relationship is strictly business. Their issues, are not my issues. D0lk got dragged for not shipping in time, others, including artisans, got dragged for being so late with communication and sending back refunds for cancelled orders. Why does D get to be exempt?

The supporters are the worst part of this, because of instead of being honest so D can improve, they support them for being "real". For example, look how micemage words it, to make it seem like this criticism is from one person, when there are people on addicts who didn’t have good experience. Check the bjd dealers tag here, you will see the supporters in the comments going off on any and all criticism of D. Some have sane comments, but the majority are cult like and try to identify the person venting as if it’s one person. Addicts deletes threads with criticism asking people to instead direct it to their feedback group; which lets be honest, no one is going to do because its "not that bad", and most dont want to join a new group, which is mostly dead.

This is my first and last confession on D, I’ve emailed each company they rep and told them my experience as well as contacting the 3 month wait company, with screenshots of my order, how they handled it, and the excuse they used to put blame on the company for being so late (package arrived march to D, 4 months to be shipped is on D, not the company). I’m not using company or order details because I know they are petty enough to try to identify me and publicly shame me like they have to others. This and the threat of suing is why not many people like to go public with their experience. They just keep feedback neutral, move on and never deal with again.

~Anonymous

6. Listen, I can't take you seriously in regards to BJD!vas because you're posting on a confession blog. If you were serious, you would have posted in buyer beware groups, DoA reviews or the board to get things resolved, or you would have made a complaint to the BBB. And your language makes you come off more as someone with an agenda rather than someone who is trying to warn people. If shipping is the issue, stop buying with standard shipping and pay the extra price for express shipping. I saw one of you complain that it sat with them for 20 days; that's probably because you're not the only one and they more than likely have a queue to check and then ship out. Do mistakes happen? Yes, because we're human. I've been in this hobby for a few years now and it seems like most people know you're going to have to wait, sometimes even outside the expected wait time. And shipping something as big as a doll is a timely endeavor. I shouldn't have to say that.

My point is simply to stop complaining on an confession board and either take it to the places previously mentioned. Posting here behind the anonymous mask makes you sound like a petulant child who didn't get their way right away.

~Anonymous

7.My only issue with BJD Divaz is how I never get any updates. Every email, they tell me to join their facebook page for status updates. I dont have a FB and I dont want to create one. I bought my doll through their website, updates should be posted on their website, or they could send me an email. That isnt asking much.

~Anonymous

8. Since there seems to be a lot of either "completely negative everything sucks" or "everything was sunshine and rainbows" confessions about bjd!vaz I thought I'd chime in with a neutral review.

PROS

-They were always polite and professional in their emails, and gave me very detailed answers to my questions.

-I got exactly what I ordered, so no mix ups or missing parts or anything like that.

-I think them being forthcoming about personal issues (only one person on staff, illness, the flooding isue etc.) on social media is good, since it keeps customers updated as to why there might be delays.

-If you live in the US their shipping is very reasonable.

CONS

-Reply times were varied. Sometimes it could take over a week, sometimes a couple hours.

-My order took about 10mo which, when comparing to other people who ordered through the same company around the same time, was about 3x as long as if I bought it direct and 2x as long if I had gone through a different dealer. I get some of the waiting time is out of their control, but it was kind of ridiculous.

-They dont necessarily ship the same day they send you a tracking number. I wish they said something like, "Here's your tracking number, our pickup is Xday so it should start moving after that" just so I could be aware.

All in all no major complaints. I got my doll and all that. Their lone employee is clearly overwhelmed. I hope they hire another person, if only to give the one a break.

Truthfully, I most likely won't buy through them again. I'd rather pay the international shipping and go direct, than deal with the extensive wait time. I'd still recommend them to someone looking for a very long layaway, though. I paid in full, but if I had a 12mo layaway I would've never known they weren't ready to ship my doll until month 10.

~Anonymous

[dibberdipper]

Where to go next (Part 2 of cheap frat party beer)

Pairing: Poppy x MC (Bea Hughes)

Warnings: Comfort, implied past sex, language

Word count: 2,000

Summary: When kickoff day is over and everyone’s going home, two girls walk around in the street enjoying each other’s company until they have to fight at school again tomorrow.

Authors note at the end

Bea watched the blonde-haired girl angrily stomp away. She’s recognized the kind of person she is-

She’s a spoiled rich brat who just minutes prior threw a tantrum just because Belvoire’s newest farm girl won over the student body. Bea was undeniably attracted to Poppy, it’s been known at this point. But she wanted nothing more than to take her down. What goes without saying, she wanted the top spot. What made things complicated was she also wanted the girl in the top spot.

They never talked about that shared night in the dorm room, how even after they did the deed they stayed to cuddle. The school’s top rivals were cuddling. Poppy got back with Carter, and Bea felt like there was nothing she could say or do about it. So maybe there was just a little hint of spite involved.

She was on her way back to her and Zoey’s shared place but hesitated to keep going. A certain moment in the day kept plaguing her mind. Poppy just broke up with Carter today. For her reputation, this was the perfect chance to date the school’s football team captain. Carter was attractive, he was sweet… but her mind kept lingering to his ex-girlfriend. She knew it was evil, but she hoped she’d actually stay his ex-girlfriend this time.

She already knew she could surpass Poppy in a week tops, why not try to get in deeper with Poppy now? Worst case scenario, Poppy could embarrass and expose her. But even then, Bea just didn’t really care. She could probably get more momentum in some way and try to make the whole ‘Farmgirl simps for the queen of the school”. On the other hand, best-case scenario, Carter may be out of a girlfriend while she just got one.

As she took her phone out of her pocket, she walked away from her dorm. She could already hear Zoey’s lecture later onto why she left alone without any backup. She went to Poppy’s Instagram page and slid right into her DMs.

“wanna meet later”

She didn’t even wait a second for her reply, it was immediate.

“excuse me???? hell no”

“why not :(”

“have u met me? no”

Bea thought about what to say next when her phone came up with another notification.

“ok how do I know you won’t show up without your bootleg media manager”

Bea rolled her eyes as she kept typing. Okay, she’s crossing her fingers that Poppy does have a secret soft spot somewhere under her blunt rudeness. She couldn’t expect Zoey to support her and Poppy if Poppy couldn’t even treat Zoey with bare minimum respect.

But then again, who says there’s even a relationship.

“how do I know you won’t show up without any of your minions? oh wait they left :(“

She could already see Poppy’s fingers angrily tapping her phone.

Bea came up with an idea that’ll hopefully make things more fun for the both of them that won’t lead to screaming over DMs.

“here, i’ll drop my number so we can FaceTime each other on our way to McDonald’s. foolproof”

“🤢🤢🤢 barf, no”

“Who would expect Poppy Min-Sinclair at a McDonald’s?”

She didn’t get anything back until she got an unknown number trying to FaceTime her. She smiled to herself as she took out her earphones and answered.

“Hey gorgeous-“

“Who do you think you are?! Asking me to meet up after humiliating me?!”

She only saw her neck up, a deep red wool scarf covering up the lower side of her face. She was also adorned in an ugly mud brown hat.

“Poppy I-“

“To think I actually slept with yo-“

“Poppy sweetie, you should be a little quieter on the streets in NYC. Just a little tip.” Bea said laughing, as Poppy flushed. Bea obviously had a view of the buildings behind Poppy.

Poppy huffed. “I might as well not even talk to you on the phone, you’re being such a bitc-“

Poppy heard footsteps behind her and slowly turned around her.

“Then you don’t have to!”

Poppy was so startled she almost fell, and her hat fell off. She put a hand over her heart and took a deep breath.

“Bea! You scared me!”

Bea picked the hat up from off the ground and placed it back on her head.

“Whoops. Sorry.”

Bea looked Poppy over, and now she got to see along with the hat and scarf, she was wearing a tan dress coat with dark brown boots. She looked like a stereotypical cartoon character in a disguise minus the glasses with a mustache attached, plus the tacky hat. There was something charming about her attempt to look less suspicious.

Poppy glared at her but slowly her expression softened.

“Here, I brought these.”

She handed her matching sunglasses, they had some sort of brand name that Bea couldn’t recognize on them.

“Awww babe you brought us matching sunglasses?”

“Don’t think you can just call me babe, I’m pissed at you.”

Poppy crossed her arms after slipping her sunglasses, looking away in annoyance. Bea could’ve apologized or whatever, but the way she said it as if she did nothing riled her up.

“You shouldn’t have tried to sabotage me, sweetie.” Bea said as she slipped her matching pair of sunglasses on.

Poppy wrinkled her nose in anger.

“Then you shouldn’t have tried to upstage me.”

“Here how about this Poppy, we’ll say sorry on three?”

“Okay.” Poppy said uncrossing her arms. Bea felt her eyes on her through the sunglasses.

“One…two…three…”

They waited for one of them to say sorry, but none of them did. They left each other hanging.

They kept eye contact and started laughing. Almost as if they were moving on their own, still laughing, they interlocked fingers and started walking. Poppy laid her head on Bea’s shoulder.

“Ugh, do we still have to go to McDonald's? “

“I guess not. Where do you want to go then?

“I don’t mind just walking.”

They walked, enjoying their shared silence as if they were just two girls holding hands because they liked each other. They both individually loved their reputations, socializing, but at the end of the day, it’s probably the only thing keeping them apart. The school is watching for a catfight, not a love story.

“Bea, why did you really call me here?”

“I just wanted to talk.” Bea replied.

Poppy lifted her head away.

“Ask me ten questions, and I’ll ask you ten questions after.” She remarked.

“Poppy, are you really trying to get to know me through a trivial game?” Bea said.

“You do know that’s one question down, right?” Poppy smirked.

“Oh come one, you’re not going to seriously count that as a question.” Bea said in annoyance.

“Ah, that’s two.” Bea scoffed at her statement, but Poppy giggled in reply. Time seemed to stop every time Poppy genuinely laughed, almost as if the world knew that was the only time she looked truly innocent.

“Okay I’ll stop teasing you, you can ask. But you only have eight questions left.”

Bea squeezed her hand, as she looked around trying to think of one.

“Cats or dogs?”

“That’s seriously what you’re asking?”

“Sue me, but you can tell a lot about a person by which one they prefer.”

Poppy was silent for a moment.

“I wanted a cat when I was younger, but my mom’s allergic.”

“Ah okay. Next question I guess. Look I know we’ve done things, and you dated Carter, but I don’t want to assume anything. Are you bi?”

Poppy winked at her. “Let’s just say I listen to girl in red.”

Bea rolled her eyes but laughed.

“Okay, five more questions I guess. Coke or Pepsi.”

Poppy didn’t miss a beat. “White wine. Why drink those when you have a wine cooler?”

Bea punched her arm playfully. “Hey, your ‘too cool for soda’ rich kid is showing.”

They both laughed among each other.

“I mean I don’t have any more questions except one I guess.”

“Please do ask.” Poppy said, moving her hands upwards to clutch onto her arm.

“Have you even tried McDonald’s?”

“I’ve dated Carter, I went with him and I’ve come to the conclusion that almost none of their food looks like their advertising.” Poppy said.

“Well do you have a favorite fast food place? Or are you simply too fancy?”

Poppy looked around for a moment.

“You tell anyone and I swear to whatever God is out there Bea Hughes, I’ll make you pay.”

Bea started laughing, covering her hand over her mouth this time trying not to annoy other passers among them, previous people shooting them glares for being so damn loud.

“Okay, you have to tell me now.” Bea said finally calming her giggles.

She noticed Poppy’s face glow with a red tint as she buried herself in her scarf.

“After my first break up in high school, I ate at Wendy’s. It’s now my guilty pleasure.”

“I’ve actually never had Wendy’s.” Poppy gaped at Bea in surprise.

“Why? How could you not!”

“In my hometown, I mainly had food from mom and pop type diners and restaurants, you know?”

Poppy felt herself burn inside. On her first day of school, she relentlessly went at her for where she came from. Poppy let go of her arm and took a deep breath. As much as she could’ve never said this, the over-attachment she’s already grown so much to this girl couldn’t let her brush it off.

“Poppy are you oka-“ Before Bea could finish, Poppy interrupted her.

“I’m sorry for being such a piece of shit to you. Hell, I’m kind of a piece of shit to everyone.” Poppy tried to hold it in, but a tear or two slipped past and left streaks on her cheeks.

“Poppy…” Bea sighed.

“I’m not going to pretend and tell you you’re forgiven or that you haven’t been a real bitch to everyone. But I mean, who am I to judge? I’m not any better than you.”

Poppy looked up at her through her glasses, she didn’t even feel like being defensive. She knew she was right.

“One part of me wants to believe you have some sort of secret soft side, but I know that’d be me making up some other version of you. I want to get to know you, know every deep secret you have, I want to know all the little quirks that make you…you. But another part of me wants to be that power couple I’ve always selfishly wanted.”

Poppy felt the tears being unleashed. Carter was always sweet to her, pampered her even, he’s an amazing guy. But for some reason, this very moment meant so much to her than anything else.

“Would you… want to date me one day?” Poppy slipped the words out as she wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve.

Bea thought to herself for a few minutes, making Poppy shrink in paranoia as to what her response might be.

“We both need to grow first. I want to get better for you, and I want you to be satisfied enough in your life to not seek validation within some college ranking system.” As much as the words stung, Poppy nodded.

Bea looked down at Poppy and she stopped in her steps. She pulled her away from the sidewalk and closer to the wall of whatever building was next to them. She held her hands in hers.

“Instead of asking me ten questions, you know what you could do for me?”

Poppy looked at her puzzlingly.

“You know… you could kiss me.” Poppy giggles uncharacteristically in reply.

“Close your eyes.” Bea’s eyelids fluttered down. Poppy stood on her tippy toes and placed her lips on hers. It was different from that first night. Instead of sexual tension and passion, it was soft. As fun as that night was, she could say she preferred this one in a heartbeat. She pulled away as she something vibrate in her back pocket.

“Bea where are you??? Not to be a mom, but weren’t you supposed to get here a while ago?”

“Oh shit.” Bea accidentally said aloud”

“What is it?” Poppy said suddenly looking at her phone to see what she was looking at.

“I forgot to tell Zoey I was going out.”

“You forgot?!” Bea felt so stupid, as she went on her Uber app.

“I’ll get us both an Uber and I’ll walk you to your floor so you’ll be safe okay?”

Poppy sighed dejectedly. “Okay.”

“You do know you could keep your lips on mine in the Uber, right?”

Poppy smiled at her.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

________________________________________________________

okay I just wanted to say 😳😳

i have another Poppy x MC WIP but as soon as i read chapter 4 of Queen B I just h a d to write this

because first of all, it was intended to be a one-shot but a couple of people asked and I had no idea how to start it but chapter 4 gave me life so here we are

thanks for reading 🥰

Tagging (Message if you want to be added or removed please!!)

Thank you for reading! Tagging: @lolimugly @origmansello @everythingchoices @lonewolf751 @lavenderrtown @save-me-the-last-dance @priestess-of-light @otakufangirl-12 @vampiregirlsblog @princessstellaris @somewillwin @grapecaseschoices @mvalentine @greatestflirt-hero @sugarplumpnhoneybun @ognenniyvolk @coldbatfriendroad @that-one-choices-person @drethanramslay @queensayeed @kawaiibanditmoneytaco @rotten-teddy-bear @aguywiththreepairsofglasses @elijahmessenger @ritafarrr @erza-elcy-crimson @poshbiscuit @generaldameronss @adrianadmirer @everythingchoices @imturasgirl @noesapphic

(psa if you weren’t tagged but you wanted to be please message, i have bad WiFi so I might not see some people asking until later on)

[jxst-saying]

What about working for the boys and the fans ship her with Luke and they say they are just best friends but end up realizing they love each other in soft rn :(

A/N: This had me fucked up. Also, too in–depth to just do in a one part little drabble, so I wrote it in multiple parts! If you want the next part, just go ahead and request it here! 

(Part Two is now available: here!) (And so is Part Three: right here!) (And so if Part Four: right here!) 

[+masterlist]

@mukeclifford: @Luke5SOS and @y/t/n are SO cute!!!!! they’re totally dating there’s no other explanation that’s it that’s the tweet

@wackycalum: I don’t have a problem with @Luke5SOS and @y/t/n being an item, but lying about it is fucking messed up. Just be honest to your fans. Don’t lie. We’ll find out eventually.

@rAiNbOwAsH: how cliché is it that the social media manager is messing around with @Luke5SOS what a way to keep her job

@bitchluke: honestly people that are hating on @y/t/n for absolutely no reason are just jealous bitches she’s a professional doing her job let her be even if she and @Luke5SOS are dating that’s their business (but i do think they’re fucking cutE)

Y/N. Social media manager to well–known band 5 Seconds of Summer. Currently rumored to be dating Luke Hemmings, aforementioned band’s front–man. Actually, let’s make a correction to that statement: Always rumored to be dating Luke Hemmings, front–man. It probably (read: most definitely) had something (read: everything) to do with the fact that the two of you were always together and always ended up having your picture taken. Together.

Maybe everyone else saw something the two of you couldn’t and didn’t.

There was just something about the way the two of you––clicked. It had been that way since the second you got the job. Somehow, you and Luke always just gravitated toward each other. It was like magnets. You were the north pole; he was the south. In any crowd, you were always the first face that Luke searched for; the first hand he reached for; the first voice he sought out amongst thousands of screaming fans. It all started with just one photo from two years ago. All of you were at the airport. Hundreds of people were scattered around with their suitcases and carry–ons and airplane tickets. Calum, Michael, and Ashton were all in the security line getting patted down by TSA at JFK. They were headed to Europe; you were staying behind in the city for a while. Luke, however, was standing in front of you right before the security checkpoint line with his suitcase at his side and his duffle bag on the ground. Some fan must have seen the two of you and taken the snapshot before uploading it. That was the only thing that made sense. It was probably the look in his eyes that they saw: the one that spoke of a myriad of unsaid words and confessions and admissions of truth, bottled–up emotions, fear, and heartbreak. That one.

You, in your complete naïveté and blindness when it came to the entire situation, chalked it up to just Luke not wanting to leave a close friend behind. Europe was always a special place for the two of you. Midnights in Paris; early mornings in Rome; evenings in London; afternoons in Berlin. There was always something so incredibly romantic about it all––traveling in the late night to another country. Sometimes, it felt like the two of you were running away from it all like some modern–day Romeo and Juliet. But then the light of day would spill through the windows of the airplane and the rough landing of touch down would shake the two of you from whatever reverie you both daydreamed about whenever you had the chance. (Not that either of you would ever dare admit that.)

So, that was that.

You could easily explain that photo. Luke wasn’t too keen on leaving his good friend and social media manager behind in a different country. You had the same look in your eyes for nearly the same reason. And because you weren’t so trusting of four boys having unlimited access to their own social media accounts with absolutely no repercussions whatsoever. That was a gut–wrenching thought, in and of itself. And that was all.

But that photo then went viral and––well––the rumors came shortly after that and stuck. More rumors meant more photos meant a vicious cycle that neither of you could escape from.

And maybe that was why you were, once again, staying behind in NYC while the four boys were on an airplane to Europe. More specifically, that was why you were sitting in your boss’s office with your legs crossed and your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. You knew what this was about; it wasn’t that hard to put two and two together. With new music coming out, the last thing the band––and the executives––needed was the rumors about you and Luke taking center stage instead of the upcoming single. You understood that; really, you did. But that definitely did not mean that you were any keener on sitting in the principal’s office ready for whatever detention they were going to hand out to you.

“Y/N, you have been doing an amazing job as the band’s social media manager. Really, you have.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“That being said, we do need to adjust our course. I am sure that you are aware of the rumors going around about you and Luke Hemmings. All the photos and tweets and mentions. Your Twitter mention activity has increased by 67% as of late. That’s remarkably convenient for the band. Their mentions have increased nearly 85% since the rumors started up again. But, right now, with the single about to be released, it isn’t so convenient. Actually, it’s not convenient at all.”

“Yes, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t realize that––”

Your boss interrupted you with that fake smile on her face. “We’re going to need something from you, Y/N. What we’re going to need,” she stood up and walked around to the opposite side, leaning against the desk with her ankles crossed in front of her. This was the part of being called to the principal’s office that you definitely didn’t like. “What we’re going to need from you is less involvement. Less involvement will mean less photos and less photos will mean less rumors, and all of that put together will mean that news about the upcoming single will be front–page news and not meaningless and contrived photos of you and our front–man.”

Less involvement? How would that even be possible as the social media manager? Her job was to be the definition of involved. If the executives were wanting less involvement, she wouldn’t be able to do her job. She wouldn’t be able to do anything.

“But I’m the social media manger,” you said. “How am I supposed to be less involved?”

She smiled. It was fake, the kind that flight attendants gave you when they were two seconds from taking you off the plane. “Ah, yes. That is another part of the equation. We’re going to be giving you promotion. You’ll be based out of LA. So, pack your bags! You’re headed to the West Coast!”

“A promotion? To what?”

“You’ll get all the information when you get there. The company will pay for your AirB&B until you find a suitable residence. Your plane ticket and conformation e–mail have already been booked and sent to you on company expense. It’s a direct flight from JFK to LAX, so don’t worry about that. And we’ll also take care of your apartment here. Furniture will be sent to you as soon as you find a place to live, and we’ll pay off the rest of your lease.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re getting promoted, Y/N. That’s a big deal. We help out our big fish here, you know.”

“But I’m not a big fish. I’m just a social media manager for 5 Seconds of Summer.” You still weren’t all that sure what was going on. All of this wreaked of some sort of convenient cover–up. With you out of the picture, there were no rumors about the two of you together leaving all the spotlight for the new single and upcoming album and later tour. It was all picture–perfect in the eyes of the executives. Even you could see that.

“Not anymore, you’re not. This’ll be good for you, Y/N. Trust me. Maybe one day you’ll be sitting in this office. You never know!”

“So, basically, you’re firing me from my job and giving me a desk job on the opposite end of the country just because of some stupid rumors.”

“Doesn’t matter whether they have any evidence behind them. Rumors spread because they’re just that––rumors. All people need to think that something is true is their own belief in the rumor. And you just being around Luke gives them just the evidence they need to run wild with it all. Don’t think of this like a punishment, Y/N. Think of it like … the next step in your PR career. It’ll do you some good. Now, if you don’t mind––”

You understood her unsaid sentiments. Get out of my office. Pack your bags. Go to L.A.

So, you did just that.

You walked the twenty–seven blocks back to your apartment, packed your tweed weekender bag and your pink rolling suitcase, printed out your ticket, and stood in the threshold to the apartment that you had lived in for three past three years. (Although, saying that you lived in that apartment might be a stretch; it was more of a home base that you just ghosted through from time to time.) But even with that, it was your home. It was the place that you and Luke had ordered late–night Chinese takeout (pan–fried pork dumplings, lemon chicken, Mongolian beef, Vietnamese doughnuts). And the place that you and Michael and Ashton had a three–a.m. water balloon fight in the living room, knocking over and breaking your flower vase mid–fight. (You won.) And the place that you and Calum had Ghost Adventures marathons until the sun would filter through the blinds on the right side of the living room. Most importantly, it was the place that you had come to view as your home whatever that meant at the end of the day. So, standing in the door was maybe more than a little heartbreaking. It was only 731 square feet, but they were yours. And now? Well, now, you were being banished out of the kingdom and sent to exile.

Perhaps that was a little dramatic. But, for you, it felt like the truth.

You shut the door behind you and left the apartment building that you were all–too–familiar with and caught a cab to JFK.

“Leaving the city or just a vacation?” The friendly cab–driver asked as he pulled into the street.

You sniffled and stared out the window, catching your last view of the Empire State Building as you did so. The sunlight glinted off the tall metal building in an annoyingly tragic and romantic sort of way. Memories of the time that you and Luke climbed all the staircases to the very top of that building flashed through your mind like a supercut. Heavy breath, burning legs, racing heartbeats, and your hand in his. It was up to the jury to decide whether the racing heartbeat was because of the flights of stairs or the hot hand she was holding onto. (Her bet was on the stairs.)  “Leaving.”

Who even knew if you would ever be allowed to return?

“That’s such a shame. Well, either way, I’m sure the universe has something amazing for you in store. I just know it.”

But without this city, without your home, without all those memories that you were speeding past left and right, you weren’t so sure.

+

REQUEST PART TWO! 

[purplesurveys]

945

A Survey For College/Uni Grads Survey by emptyspaces

What year did you graduate? 2020. It’s only been a little over a month, too.

What degree do you have? Journalism, but I might as well have had a minor in history because of the amount of history electives I took as well haha.

What classes did you take your first year? The first semester of my first year was purely for general courses, so I took basic courses on English, biology, math, philosophy, and Philippine history. By the second semester I took more basic courses on public speaking, physics, and social science, but by then I was already allowed to take two journalism majors.

Second year? My general courses included a basic course on art history, chemistry, English, Filipino, Asian history; my majors were on communication and media, news reporting, media law, media theory, journalism ethics, and an introductory course on broadcast communication.

Third year? The only general courses I had by this point were an intro to political science and a class on Philippine government and politics. I mostly took majors this year though, which wiped me the crap out: my majors were on media and society, feature writing, public relations, international relations, fact-checking, broadcast management, Southeast Asian history, and introductory courses on macroeconomics, film, psychology, and communication research.

Fourth year? I took up journalism design and layout, contemporary Philippine history, Philippine social history, pornography in media just because lol, an introductory course on anthropology, and I also got started on my thesis as well. My second and final semester got cancelled entirely because of the pandemic, but I would have finished units on business reporting, online journalism, community press, and the history of women in the Philippines.

Did it take you longer than four years to graduate? No. That would have disappointed my parents big time and considering how much effort they’ve put to send me to good schools, the least I could do was to graduate on time. Even if I wanted to shift out of my course, it would’ve led to a delay and I didn’t want that for them and I personally didn’t want that for myself either.

Did you start at 18, or did you have a gap year(s) after high school? Again, I didn’t want to take gap years for my parents’ sake. I immediately went to college right after graduating high school, like what the majority of students here do.

Was it a small or large college/university? Very large. The competition is even bigger – 100,000++ high school seniors take the entrance exam every year but they only take in around 10,000 passers. Still, 10,000 new students every school year is so many, and it’s always a bitch to get class slots because of our population.

Public or private? Public. 

Is there anything the school is well-known for? All sorts of things. It’s one of the top schools in the country, so we hog the spotlight in the national news pretty much everyday. I think the biggest things we’re known for though is our reputation for research and our activism history. It also makes us a popular target of pro-government trolls.

What were some of your favorite classes? I loved taking up art studies and all of my political science and history electives, and as for my journalism electives I really only enjoyed public relations and that one class where we ran an online magazine for a whole semester.

What were some classes you hated? Fucking economics. And fact-checking. And the fact that I took both in the same period...got my lowest average for that semester because of those classes, too. I feel like I would have done better if my economics class didn’t have a population of 200 and if I had a more experienced professor fact-checking but shit happens, I guess. I also felt like my porn class was a waste because the readings were so pretentious. And of course, philosophy.

Did you have any super-long classes? Like 3 hours or longer? All majors in my college are 3 hours long. So classes like PR, journalism ethics, feature writing, business reporting, media law, communication theory, etc. all definitely took a big chunk of my weekdays.

Did you ever change your major? No. I had multiple conversations with myself to decide if I should, but aside from not wanting to get delayed I also accepted the fact that as much as I had grown to not like journalism as a practice, the technical skills taught in it were still going to be super useful in the industry I want to get into, which is communications and PR.

Did you do any internships? If so, where? I did. I interned at a PR agency last year but it was part of my requirements to complete my course, so it felt forced to an extent. I’m currently interning at another PR agency, but this time I’m out of school and it’s a personal choice of mine.

Did you ever take any online classes? If so, which ones? I only had one or two online class sessions at the beginning of the lockdown, but my school ultimately cancelled the semester altogether in consideration of disadvantaged students who may not have laptops of their own or wi-fi at home. In the end they just gave a grade of ‘P’ to everyone, which meant Pass.

Were textbooks expensive? I didn’t need to buy entire textbooks because my professors usually just took excerpts or chapters from certain relevant books and let us photocopy the pages, which costs a lot cheaper than having to buy books.

What other supplies besides books did you have to buy for your classes? Other than course readings I didn’t need to spend much. Journalism isn’t a material-heavy course like how film or broadcast communication is.

Were you in any clubs or student organizations? Yes. I was in a journalism org, our graduation committee, and was part of a student publication at one point. I also tried to join AIESEC but my schedule was so hectic at the time that I had to drop it.

Did you ever volunteer anywhere? I was a lecturer and facilitator for the journalism workshops that my org regularly held (and will probably continue to volunteer even as a grad, since I know they appreciate alumni lecturers lol), and one time I also volunteered to be an usher for Batch 2019′s graduation.

Were you on any sports teams? Nope. I liked playing table tennis, but I was never trained properly enough to make it to varsity. 

Where was your favorite place to eat on campus? It depended on how much of a hurry I was in and how much I was willing to spend. The cheapest option was the network of kiosks scattered around campus which sold the same instant noodles and street food. If I wanted to reward myself but was on a tight budget, I went to Area 2 which is a residential street in campus that was also dotted with small food booths ran by the homeowners; if I had some money to spend and the time to stay in a sit-in restaurant I used to go to Chocolate Kiss.

Did you work while you were in college? I did not. I was lucky to be in a privileged position where my parents were able to provide for me and where I never had to worry about finances.

If so, where? How many hours per week?

How many times did you move throughout college? I didn’t. We lived in the same house the whole time I was in college.

Did you live on campus, in an apartment, or somewhere else? I lived at home and I just drove to and from school everyday, since the campus was near-ish enough for me not to avail of a dorm or condo.

Did you live with roommates? Alone? With a significant other? I lived with my family, but tbh it was mostly my mom and brother at home since my sister stays at a dorm and my dad works abroad.

If off-campus, how much was your rent? Never had to pay any.

How often did you go back to visit your parents? I went home to my mom every night lol, unless I had a sleepover at someone else’s place.

Did your parents help you out with living costs? Sure did. Nothing changed with my living arrangements and I still lived under their roof.

Did your parents (or someone else) pay for your tuition? They paid for the first two semesters; then by my sophomore year the government passed an act implementing free tuition for all state universities so since then they never had to pay a cent for my education.

Was it an expensive school? Not at all, which is why the competition to get in is so fierce. To illustrate, four years in my school is just equivalent to one semester in my sister’s college. Last time I checked one unit is ₱1500 or roughly $30.

If you paid for it, do you still have student loans you're paying off? I don’t have student loans. Idk if that’s a thing here, actually. I don’t think it is.

How many people did you date throughout college? One.

What was your longest relationship while in college? The whole four years. I was in the same relationship when I started and ended.

Were you in a sorority/fraternity? Fuck no.

Were you into partying? Just occasionally. I wasn’t a wild partier but I did go to a few college parties every now and then, and I certainly went to nearby bars nearly every Friday.

Where did you and your friends usually hang out? Along Katip, since there were enough places there to hang out in. Occasionally we’d go to Maginhawa, but I prefer it a lot less because the parking there sucks balls.

What did you and your friends do for fun? Drink, eat, play games.

Do you still keep in touch with any college friends? Very much. I support those who remain in the org, and I occasionally catch up with those who had already graduated.

Did any of them graduate with the same degree as you? Most of them did. It’s how I met them.

What did you do after you graduated? I rested for a bit but an existential crisis quickly came over and now I’m in a bit of a mental slump, but at least I’ve scored this internship to keep me occupied.

How was the pay at your first job out of college? The company I’m currently interning for objectively pays well, but they acquired me as an intern because they aren’t offering full-time positions for now. That said, I get an allowance rather than a salary so it isn’t much at all, but I’m still happy to be in the company because it’s supposed to be one of the top agencies in the country.

What classes prepared you the most for your career? PR, feature writing, public speaking, news reporting, online journalism...and tbh org work. 

- Five favorite memories from your college days -

1: UP vs DLSU basketball game from September last year HAAAAAA

2: Attending my organization’s orientation and encountering them for the first time, not knowing I was going to bloom so much there and gain my closest friends

3: High Def 2018 and 2019

4: Drinking at VSpot with Angela, Hans, Gabie, and whoever else from their Ateneo gang that also got invited

5: TK with orgmates

[shijiujun]

ICYMI - some Chris news

so hahahaha as always I camp on weibo on the days before the fanmeet and during the fanmeet - and anyway so something happened yesterday in case anyone is interested to know:

chris just added yesterday on his instagram profile that ‘modification and reupload, and creation of any products (with his photos) without permission isn’t allowed’ 

so my first thought is - totally fair, about time, i mean that’s what we all do with our own uploads right, and copyright issues - he does own his damn photos and whatever he says about it, it’s totally fine

and then what erupted on weibo was:

1. strangely, some of his fans started to blame his manager? like i don’t even mean like calling her a bitch or anything (although there was that) but all out in like 100 words and more saying that she’s a really incompetent manager, and how did someone like her ever get to manage chris, and how she’s chasing away all of chris’ fans and you get the drift - basically okay so i’m sure they’ve been unhappy with his manager (for whatever reasons) for a while now and the fans claim that she’s been terrible all along but gosh the point is, they started bashing her online - i mean, it takes A LOT OF MENTAL ACROBATICS to link that disclaimer on his instagram post to her - this is so reminiscent of the bashing on director lee over ep 17 gosh

2. AND TAGGING CHRIS ON WEIBO ON THESE POSTS BASHING HER?!!!! okay literally NO ONE knows what’s going on between him and his manager, and unless you know him personally you literally got no right to talk shit AND TAG HIM about the woman who literally takes care of his every job and gets him resources and supports him at events and every shooting ever - apparently she left her previous mgmt company to follow chris to this new company if I didn’t read it wrong 

3. and then, some fans started bashing CHRIS HIMSELF? i saw this one weibo message listing out like 6 point on what he did wrong with posting that disclaimer, even going as far as to say “do you know why you don’t have as many likes on your uploads as jake’s? it’s because you do stuff like this and you don’t know how to market yourself and keep pushing your fans away, and also because u have a shitty manager” (something along these lines, you get my point) - and not only that, they tagged chris in that bashing note like... what’s the point?!!! the worst thing was they started to say that he’s not being a very nice person and that obviously with this he doesn’t care for the fans etc. (and come on we all know what kind of person chris is)

4. some fans took offence because - when a lot of fansite admins give out free stuff to other fans at fanmeets, they of course do take some of the photos from his social media and andy’s and kenny’s and jake’s to print photocards etc. and idk why some fans started to say that basically the disclaimer means he has a problem with these freebies being handed out with his photos on them etc., and because of this they say him and his manager are purposely chasing away his fans (goshhhhh), even at the taipei fanmeeting apparently some fans also, after seeing the freebies being given out, were also concerned about copyright issues but i mean, there wasn’t a huge hoo-hah about it because this happens all the time and the fansite admins are doing this mostly for free

5. so chris was in hangzhou when this all happened right, i think he literally just arrived in hangzhou when the comments started appearing, and a lot of other fans were like ‘you guys know that chris likes to hang out and read through all the messages on the history3 topic board on weibo right, why are you guys putting up so many hurtful messages?’- if you guys dont have weibo, it’s like china’s version of twitter but with like topic boards? so history3 has a huge topic board there and if you mention it your ‘tweet’ appears there

6. and lo and behold, during today’s fanmeet, the host actually put aside some time during the talking segment so that chris could explain himself (think it was nice of the host to do that and the way he said it even tho chris might have asked for the opportunity to explain himself) - and omg his face-

he LEGIT starts off by saying ‘so i think some of you have misunderstood me so i wanted to take the opportunity to talk about it’ and he looked so pitiful and sad and looking like he was trying not to cry (okay i don’t think he was gonna cry but he did look a little distressed but had to smile through it)

and then he clarified that he’s very happy for his fans to reupload his photos, “to photoshop away that pimple on his face” etc., that’s totally fine (so basically saying that the disclaimer was never aimed at these fans)

he heard some rumors that people have been selling stuff with his social media photos on them and basically some fans might get cheated by these people right 

and thus, the whole debate on weibo was for nothing because he’s concerned that fans are getting cheated and he was kind of taking steps to ensure that no one would pay money for basically non-official merchandise (and yes of course to protect his own copyright which i feel is totally fine)

the audience was pretty supportive - they kept things like ‘we believe you’ etc. at him but while he was talking so LOL he had to actually stop and go “okay guys, please let me finish talking first”

and at the end of it he said, “so i hope you guys don’t misunderstand me anymore” 

hahaha so this was just what happened over these two days - and I’m just kinda appalled that this snowballed into such a huge thing that chris himself had to come out and explain it? it’s so common for any of us to put ‘don’t repost’ or ‘any work here done is mine’ or ‘photos are ours’ etc. and we understand because ownership right - so to bash chris and his manager for that... i’m a little mindblown, and then for chris to have to even explain himself about this, it’s totally ridiculous because those photos literally are his, he can do whatever he wants with them with the reuploads and modifications etc.

some level-headed chinese fans came out in defense of him by having to literally explain what ‘copyright’ means LOL - and actually as long as money isn’t involved, and you don’t use his stuff for commercial purposes without permission, more or less everyone closes an eye and allows it

finally, we all know what a sweetheart chris is?!!! i mean we don’t know him personally at all but he’s so sincere to his fans, i can’t imagine him turning on his fans in any disrespectful way and for no reason whatsoever because he’s so grateful to have all his fans after having a few tough years

and once again, this is why we can’t have nice things

[nyruratchet]

Time...

“...Why you punish me?”

So, I explained last time the situation regarding the creation of my music...monetarily. But let me explain and expand on how my time is utilized on a monthly basis.

If I haven’t made it clear, I hate my job. But here’s the thing, it’s flexible (for the most part), has benefits: (insurance, free-ish air travel, scheduled pay increases). Cons: passengers are allowed to treat crew like shit, always working with new people (that you may not mesh well with), anyone you try establishing a relationship with has pre-conceived notions/little to no faith you will ever be around, pay SUCKS until you get REALLY senior (7+), and...more, but I digress. But that flexible schedule, albeit limited, has afforded me the ability to work on music; until it doesn't. 

See, I was getting “comfortable” in my work situation a few years ago until certain a situation beyond my control forced me into deep debt, bad credit, and deeper depression. In order to fix all of this, money is needed. How do u get money? Work more. More work leads to more depression and sometimes health issues. So, I’ve been stuck in this seamlessly endless cycle of paycheck to paycheck living. And my desire and NEED to work on my music has not helped it (as explained in the previous blog post). Every time I get a bit more money, it goes to my craft. 

See, after you put all that money into creating art, you have to then put it OUT there. And in the case of a performer, you need to do live performances. That is a whole other situation in itself. There are lots avenues to get live performance experience. Open mics, concert showcases, live cabaret/karaoke bars, etc. Guess what THEY ALL COST MONEY. But not only money, LOTS of excess time is involved. 

This past spring, I was dragged into a showcase by my producer friend (who I’m partially in love with but he’s straight...but that’s another story). In order to do a showcase, you have to apply for acceptance. Applications involve you submitting current work and having a worthy social media following (which you have had to spend constant time building). Once you fill out the application, send the files and info, PAY your entry fee ($25) and receive your acceptance, you then have to sell tickets. Yes, how do they get people to come to the showcase? By having YOU bring them. And if you cannot find people to buy your tickets, all of those tickets come out of YOUR pocket. So, I was given 25 tickets to sell (last minute mind you); 25 tickets to sell at $20 bucks each. So, if I don't sell them, I owe the company $500 dollars. Yup, that’s correct. In order for me to perform my original content on their stage, I needed to make sure they got their $525 and help them get people in the venue so that they buy drinks at the bar (which we were given ZERO drink tickets for). Now before stepping on stage, you don’t get a sound check. So, you show up early before everyone to check in and simply check they have your correct music file(s) then wait...and wait...and wait. But your music has to be edited within their restrictions (this means more studio time. Remember, studio time =more $$...just making sure ur following me. Too many times you’ll hear big recording artists talking about how they have just sat in studios for hours creating a song from scratch. Yeah, only if you are signed to major label is this a thing! But anyway...back to the showcase.) 

Needless to say, I did everything I needed to. But I had some help since I asked to do this last minute and told them UP FRONT they would have had to get that unsold ticket money from me in blood. I landed from working a redeye the day before, got a nap in, did my vocal exercises in my car on my way to New Jersey, checked in and sat there. Since some people didn't show up on TIME, I was abruptly grabbed from drinking my whiskey at the bar and told “YOU’RE ON NEXT!”  Being the seasoned professional that I am, took that shot to the head, said “Actually, that’s not my slot...but ok, I’m ready.” NO SOUND CHECK, NEVER given TIME on the stage beforehand...I went on. Sung my ass off with a standing ovation from the judges. Then, went back to drinking with my friends who were in shock because they had never heard me really sing live. Then I had sit for HOURS while mediocre “rappers” and “singers” rapped over pre-recordings of their own vocals. Finally, they were ready to announce the winners. I won that sucker.

But what did I win? ...A promise to be put into another show... *DICK FACE*  No money to recoup what I just spent getting to this moment. No free promotion on social media to help me and my art. NO, some bullshit. So, I took the experience fore what it was and cut my losses. I got some exposure and was able to test out an unreleased song...but besides that. Nothing but wasted time and effort. I left there feeling somewhere between elation and disappointment. Not to mention, I was exhausted; I had done all this after working my full time job, and had to work again the next day. So all I had time to do was drive home and sleep. 

“Like a wave bashing into the shore...

Since this, I have had some money issues and mental health issues, so I have just barely been able to work on music. On my days off, I have to sleep and get back in the groove of being a real person instead of a redeye zombie. Then when I’m feeling slightly normal, I’m back to work...it is a vicious, irritating, restraining cycle. I’ve tried working shorter flights so I’m home more; nope, the pairings (schedules) for those flights work you in a way that leaves you feeling raped. My company will build a pairing with a duty time of 27hrs and only pay you for 15-17 of those hours. DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Then on top of that, your rest time at the hotel is set to 11hrs...WTF?? 

Let me explain this for those of you with normal jobs. On these pairings, you are schedule to work a number of flights each day. So, 3 day pairing means you work 3-4 flights each day and have 2 layovers. Now lets say FLIGHT time is 1.5-2.5 hrs each (8-12hrs). Then you land from your final flight for day one. We’re usually delayed at our carrier...honestly, rarely on time. So, you have minimum rest at 11hrs. BUT, before you can leave the aircraft we have to get all passengers off the plane, CLEAN the seats, wait on our shuttle which is probably late if your pilots are sucky human beings and haven’t called ahead to make sure they’re there (Pilots aren’t required to clean; just us lowly peasants). So, by the time you get to the hotel, down to 10hrs. If you get there and rooms are ready, great. IF NOT, another 20-30 min or longer. But, lets say you’re down to 9.5hrs now. Get to your room. Hopefully your key works, air/heat works, no one is already in you room (yes...it happens all the time), room already cleaned, no bed bugs, and you aren’t by a noisy ice machine/elevator. You then have to shower and eat. Let’s say you get all that done in an hour. You now have 8.5 hrs to sleep...BUT WAIT, the van is scheduled to pick you up from the hotel 45 min to an hour before you are supposed to report at the airport and you need to be dressed and ready to make that van. So instead of 8.5hrs, you actually have 7hrs at best to sleep and pop outta bed, get dressed and properly ready to do the shit show all over again; all the while, knowing they are really only paying you for the time you spend on the aircraft, AFTER THE DOOR IS CLOSED AND THE BRAKE IS RELEASED. Time before like boarding, checks, delays? nope...no pay. Just us waisting our fucking time. Literally.

Why, is this? cuz everyone does it is the answer. That is how all airlines do it, so you have no leg to stand on. Got a union, the company retaliates like a reprimanded toddler. Now as I said before, once you get to be a super senior in your company and can choose what you want to work, when you want to work, in the position you want to work, getting $40/hr at base hours and a crazy amount for premium (overtime) hour, etc. the job is GOLDEN. (Unless that company gets purchased/merged.) But for a young person/flight attendant in debt, living in NYC, with a high cost of living, life ain’t fun. I tried living in New Jersey for a lower cost; that came with its own issues. I’ve taken out loans, became a hermit to save money, worked holidays, etc. Dug my hole deeper is what I did. And I’m pretty good at setting goals and managing my time and getting things DONE. But for some fucking reason, life is not working in my favor. This job is not working for me. I see younger people coming up behind me doing LITTLE to no work, getting musical accolades with trash “music” (I know, matter of opinion...but really. C’mon now), young white/latino/asian twinks shaking their ass for anything that breathes and getting rich men to pay their bills or marry them, all the while telling me they just want my BBC or other racist BS like that (Yes, I have receipts) and I’m just like WTF AM I DOING WRONG?! Have I spent my time stupidly? 

And the most recent shit that really hurt my feelings: If any of you remember (to the three of you reading this lol), a few months ago I posted about help getting into bartending. Well, I had actually asked a friend in person before that about bartending and if he knew any directors who could do a music video. This “friend” told me “no, not really”. Didn’t know anything about that, he just does movies and short films (which I’ve donated to his kickstarters for btw...) but no one who he thinks does music videos. THEN, I asked this same “FRIEND” how much he would charge to be IN a music video, as I had a song (the one I won the showcase with) that he would be perfect for as it deals with subject matter he rallies for. I wanted to help his career out in turn by help my video out, because I’m ugly and having beautiful actors in my video would be a better sell (as again, I need this song to make money. He then tells me me, he’s not sure how much he would charge for that. SEVERAL MONTHS LATER...this bitch releases a music VIDEO to his NEW SINGLE about a SIMILAR SUBJECT!! Without promotion, he gets instant 2.2k hits on the video on youtube. MIND YOU, he would always be shy to sing around me and I told him, “you need to give yourself more credit. You have a beautiful voice.” Meanwhile, I’m asking for some knowledge from him, and he wouldn’t help me with ANYTHING. I have NEVER asked for a hand out. Just tell me where the door is, I will get in even if I have to pick the lock. But he not only pretended he didn’t know where the door was, he was holding the keys, had lock picks on the side and duplicates to share; But, for whatever reason...didn’t want to share that with me. Even though, I was going to include him in MY art without any thought and was willing to pay. Now, I have some thoughts on why he did this. But seeing as I’m on the verge of tears, I’ll end on that note.

...You wash away my dreams.”

[romansrgn]

Summary: One night can cause a man to lose everything he didn't know he wanted. But is really too late to get it back?

Desc: Seth Rollins X Reader (Kinda)

Requested by: @colbynatorsforlife 

Word Count: 1824

Warning: Angst, Talk of Cheating and SMUT

taglist: @queenofthearchitect 

 I walked out of Vince’s office feeling like a weight was just  lifted off my shoulder. I’ve been trying to avoid it by both denying it and by not talking about it. But I knew that there was no way I can deny what was going to be obvious to everyone else.

Naomi, Ember, Bianca, Sasha and Alicia were outside waiting for me, they had my back the entire time so it was only fitting that would be the first ones I told.

‘How did it go?” Alicia asked.

I merely shrugged fighting back the urge to burst into tears “It was hard. Harder than I hoped it would be.”

Sasha removed her glasses and wiped the tears from her eyes “This would be difficult for anyone in your position but you’re you. You’re the toughest bitch I know. You’re going to be a tough act to follow.”

My face scrunched up, now I’m full on crying “That’s not helping.”

Naomi swatted Sasha away “Move, Sasha. We’re supposed to be cheering her up. Not crying and acting a hot mess.”

Bianca placed the Raw Women’s Champion over my shoulder “Go get em, girl.”

“We’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.” Ember added as we all huddled together for a group hug.

We broke apart when I heard my music hit. I gave one last look at my girls before heading to the ring.

When I’m in front of the crowd I always get chills but this was different this was something I wanted to bottle up and carry with me forever. In a weird way I think it was because they knew. They read the blogs. They speculated on instagram and on twitter. They felt the atmosphere change, I wasn't coming into the American Airlines Arena as Williow, I was simply (Y/N)

I grabbed the mic from Jojo who announced me. She gave a comforting smile before exiting the ring, leaving me alone.

“The last three months have been a string of highs, more highs” I looked down at the Raw Women’s championship “and some low’s.” I looked at the crowd who was holding onto my every word “But there’s a time when you have to face all the obstacles life throw's at you no matter how unprepared you are. Which is exactly why I have to relinquish my championship.”

The crowd gasped and looked on in confusion.

Backstage Superstars from both brands where gathered around watching the monitors in support.

“I’m not giving this title up because of an injury or anything like that. It’s simply because I’m expecting my first child in the summer of this year.” I lifted my buttoned down flannel shirt to reveal a tank top covered bump.

The crowd cheered and so did all the superstars in the back, expect one atleast. Who merely looked at the screen in shock.

“I want to thank my fans, the superstars,  the wwe and the wwe universe for all of their support over the last few years. This isn't goodbye because I will be back for what’s mine. It’s just that this time, I’m going to have a little mini me with me to tag along for the ride. I love you all and I’ll see you soon.”

I laid the title down on the ground before taking my signature bow and exiting the ring with “Thank You WIllow” as my symphony.

I got backstage and was greeted with tons of superstars with their congratulations.

“Oh my god!  We’re so happy for you.” Nikki Bella said pulling me into a hug.

“I can’t wait until Birdie has a new playmate.” Brie beamed while Daniel pulled me in for a hug.

“I got dibs on Uncle E.” Big E yelled bringing me into a light bear hug.

"My baby sister is having a baby." Roman said kissing me on top of the head.

Dean rubbed my back comfortably. I didn't miss the knowing smile he and Roman both gave me.

By the time I made it through the superstar parade of congratulations. I was promptly snatched off to the side and into a locker room.

“You weren't going to tell me?” he whispered heatedly.

I shrugged him off “Of course not. I figured I’d tell all the most important people first.”

“I get it. You’re still pissed at me and this is your way of getting back at me. But I had a right to know.”

My relationship with Seth ended six months ago. Long story short? He cheated on me.

Both brands were touring across South America together which hasnt happened in a long time but it was beneficial and profitable to the company. During the days we got to see our fans, put on amazing shows and do press but when we weren't doing that we were enjoying the nightlife, at least some of us were.

Since I was still the active Raw Women’s Champion that meant I spent most of my free time doing press. Which also meant Seth and I were not together as much as I either of us wanted too.

Although we both understood that this was our job. We were still in a relationship. When we were apart Seth was with Mandy. At first it wasn't by choice. We were all separated in groups to do press and after the first few days Seth made it a point to remind me of that whenever I saw her seek him out. Then them "working together" turned into whispers and casual touches but nothing to raise my suspicions. I was never the jealous type. That was until we got back to America and the rumors started. Fans would tell stories on blogs and social media about how they saw Seth and Mandy at a bar or a club together. Which wasn't uncommon since we all hung out at clubs and bars. So I didn't believe it. That was until I saw a picture of them kissing with his hand up her skirt on Instagram.

Oddly enough after we broke up I found out I was pregnant a month later.

Seth sighed running a frustrated hand through his hair taking a different approach “I hurt you and I’m sorry for that. You will never know how much I regret what I did to you, to us. But how do you expect us to fix things if you won't--.”

“There’s nothing to fix, Colby. You cheated on me.” I interrupted him “I mean do you have any idea how hard it is to look at you without seeing her and what you did.” tears started to fall and I wiped them away angrily hating that he still got to see this side of me “and I hate myself because I still love you so fucking much that its crippling and It hurts.”

Seth closed the short distance between them placing his large hands on both sides of my face “Baby, listen to me. I fucked up and I will do anything to take it all back. To be the man you deserve and I can be. Just let me -- Forgive me, please.” he whispered brokenly.

I cried “What did I do to make you hurt me--”

“Nothing, you did nothing wrong. It was me. It was all me and I was pissed off about the bookings lately and I just...I fucked up but I want to make it right, baby. I love you and our baby.” he said looking down at her slightly protruding stomach.

"How could I have not noticed?" Seth thought before dropping to his knees pressing his forehead gently against my stomach to get a better look at our baby “I love you.” he whispered and kissed my stomach causing me to squirm a little.

“My baby like's that.” he said looking up at me as he did it again causing me to moan at the odd sensation. This time instead of stopping he kissed his way back up my body. Paying close attention to my growing breast and my neck.

“Colby.” I moaned my small hands gripping the back of his hair.

Seth groaned “Do you have an idea how much I’ve missed you moaning my name?" He whispered against my lips.

I opened my eyes only to meet a smoldering gaze that instantly sent a signal to pussy to get wet.

He teased my lips with his tongue begging for entry, I happily obliged, I jerked at the first contact but he kept me firmly in place by placing his large hand on the back of my head.

It didn't take long for my legs to clear the ground as they were wrapped around his perfectly trimmed waste. We made our way over to the couch as he gently laid me down beneath him “Let, daddy take care of you.”

I said nothing. There was apart of me that knew that having sex with him wasnt going to solve anything. In fact, it would likely make things worse. But as of late my mind, body and soul has aching for him.

It was insane how they went for hating eachother, loving eachother, hurting eachother and now this. It was irrational and idiotic on my part but I guess that's kinda how I would describe love.

Within minutes we were fully naked with Seth thrusting madly into me.

“Ah.” I moaned as he pounded into me at the right speed “You’re so deep.”I moaned and arched my back as lips latched on to my nipple.

"So fucking wet" His tone was almost worshipful as he pounded into my gushiness "and so fucking tight."

I cried out once he angled his hips just right and his dick started tap dancing on my G Spot. My pussy clenched and I knew I wasnt going to last much longer "Shit, I'm finna cum."

"Don't hold back. Let me fill it. Cum all over this dick, little mama." He whispered in my ear as he continued to pound into me.

I dragged my fingernails down his back drawing blood as he fucked me just a little harder and a little deeper. The smell of sex and the sound of his dick rutting into me was almost too much. I knew I wasnt going to make it a minute longer and just as soon as I thought it I came so fucking hard I saw stars.

Seth continued to pound into me chasing his own release "FUCKKK, baby I'm coming." he groaned releasing a stream of cum inside of me.

Seth shivered still coming down from his orgasm. After a few more minutes he rested his forehead against mine as we both breathed heavily into eachother's mouths.

"Did I hurt you?" He whispered.

I merely nodded. Both of us knowing I wasnt talking about the sex.

A tear rolled down his cheek "I'm sorry." I love you

And against my better judgment I said "We're having a girl." I love you too.

[sweeter-thejuice]

Bound: I

OC x Erik

Warnings: smut, angst 

Word Count: 6.2k 

Sweat glistened off of my body while my legs pumped at full speed, half resistance on the elliptical. With music blasting in my ear, I pumped hard trying to drown out the stress and trepidation that resonated through my bones over these past five days. Coming back to my hometown gave me a certain uneasiness that I couldn't ignore. The gym being my main stress outlet, I made it my first priority, the second I got here, to get a weekend pass to work out until I was numb, physically and mentally. 

It’s been three years since I left this town, unannounced. Mia, my best friend, being the only person informed of my whereabouts. I made the impulsive decision of moving from New York to California, 2,764 miles away from everyone, the day after my high school graduation. This weekend was the first time we’d seen in each other in years. Over the past years, the act of Mia and I interacting, physically, was forbidden and taboo. I wanted nothing persuading or swaying me to feel guilty of my selfish decision. We communicated through social media and FaceTime, keeping our connection strong. Now that I’m prepared, and my life in California is too established for me to leave, I decided it was time for us to have a reunion.

 Minus the constant trouble, negative energy and depression, I did, unfortunately, have a good, oblivious life here in Brooklyn. The universe gave me friends that cared about me, a boyfriend who loved me, and, all-in-all, a family that I chose. 

~

We’re called the fab five. Five of the baddest, black women in our hometown walking around like the world revolved around our satisfaction. Honestly, we’re just a bunch of rude bitches, dividing and starting unnecessary mess within our community. The fab five hosts all of the parties, keeps our grades top of our class, dresses to impress, keeps our hair and nails slayed and only dates men that were above or on our level. You had to be cute, to our standards, or rich to associate yourself with us. We didn't even know the damage we were causing to self-esteems and quite frankly, we didn't care. The group started in the ninth grade and lasted until our senior year, surprisingly. 

Tori, a dark-skinned, beautiful demon is the leader of the group. With her being rich, powerful and smart, the name and rules of the group was coined by her. Jade, Tori’s right hand woman, is always cleaning up Tori’s mess and creating some of her own. Her light skin complexion got her in and out of a lot of trouble. Keiosha, another member, followed Tori and Jade. The most calm of the group, Kei made it a priority to stay out of mess and settle any beefs. Although peace is her mantra, she finds herself in a lot of sticky situations, you know, with her head being stuck up Tori’s round ass. Then there’s Mia, a sad, depressed, troubled young woman and my best friend. We are polar opposites from everyone else and try to stay as far away from their mess as possible. The only reason we joined the group is because of the connections and, although we hate to admit, power. 

“Bitches, we’re getting dumb lit prom weekend!” Tori announced while stuffing chicken nuggets in her perfect mouth. The rich bitch payed the security guard to allow the fab five to leave campus for food. Her father owned an oil company and her mother was an investment banker. The influence that they had on the school and public officials around them were too real. There was nothing money couldn't get them. “My mom rented out this club in upstate New York and we’re going to have the time of our lives. Free drinks, an unlimited supply of weed, a DJ, food catering, you name it and it’s there! My dad set up the arrangement and he’s working on the flyers. We’ll be passing them out Wednesday.” A squeal came from the girls that sat next to her, Jade to her right and Keiosha to her left, both her little minions. Unimpressed, Mia and I gave each other a look and stood up from the table. 

“Uh, sounds good,” I said picking up my bag and putting on my backpack, “we’ll catch up with you all later.” 

Tori waved her hand, dismissing us like we asked for her permission. Just a couple of more months and I don't have to look at this tired ho ever again. If it was up to me, I would've beat her ass a long time ago, but my fear of jail and losing all of my life investments spooked me out of the idea. Being her friend wasn’t all that miserable. I got a bomb ass scholarship out of the situation, Bill Gates to be exact. Almost one million dollars for college that I can spend at my own leisure. No debt, all four years paid for and extra spending money is what heaven sounds like to the average college student.

“Is she trying to mess up our opportunities or something? Talking about alcohol and weed. Bitch, we’re barely eighteen!” Mia ranted beside me. We were headed to our sixth period, government class that we shared together. 

“Girl, you know how that silly bitch gets, thinking she runs New York and shit. I’m not going to the party. I refuse to associate myself with her after prom.” Mia shook her head in agreement. Inches away from the classroom, Mia took my hand and pulled me backwards. 

“Wait!” 

I yanked my hand from her firm grasp. 

“Girl, what the fuck is wro-” I was about to tear the bitch another asshole when the sound of the orchestra played beautifully behind me. 

When you're feeling lost in the night 

When you feel your world just ain’t right 

Call on me, I will be waiting 

Count on me, I will be there 

Monica’s, For You I Will was being sung by our school’s choir. They all wore yellow, my favorite color. The smiles on their faces were enough to wipe my anger away and send me into a smiling fit. I turned to Mia to see if she had some information but my eyes immediately fell to the beautiful yellow rose in her hand. Holding it closer to my face, she shook her head and stuck out her tongue. 

“Take the flower bitch and go in the classroom!” I took the flower from her hand as she slid my backpack from my shoulders. My legs moved hesitantly towards the classroom where I was instantly blown off my feet at the scenery inside. 

Hanging from the ceiling were beautiful yellow lights and the desks were pushed against the back wall. Yellow flowers, dahlias, my favorite, were shaped on the floor in letters that spelt out the words ‘Prom, lil nigga?’. A chuckle escaped my lips as tears rolled down my cheek. Nobody but Erik’s weird ass would do something so thoughtful and romantic, yet so hood. My tears were cut short when I felt a couple of strongs arms wrap around me. 

“Prom,” his lips grazed my ear, “lil nigga?” 

Turning around to meet his gaze, I pecked his lips. “Sure, big nigga.” With the choir and orchestra still going, we swayed in the middle of the classroom to our favorite song. 

~

I pumped a couple of more times before my music paused and started again.

bestfriend sent you a message:

-Bitch, the kick back starts in 10 minutes.

Honestly, I forgot all about that party. Going to the party was not apart of my agenda. There was going to be too many of my demons there for me to face, unfinished business. If it wasn't for Mia manipulating and threatening me, I would've blocked her number and called her when I got back to Cali. 

Forcefully removing myself from the machinery, I shot her a quick text saying that I’d be there in thirty minutes. I walked to the gym’s restroom, wiped my body with a fresh towel then headed to my car. 

The girls and I planned on going to NYU together before I broke the group up changing to UCLA at the last minute. The fab five was not true to my character or who I wanted to be as a woman. Being self-absorbed is not a bad thing but when it’s used to divide and single out other women, it reaches a new form of evil. The group was not the best time of my life and if I could erase some of the memories from it, I would and that’s exactly what I wanted to do. If it wasn't for the history, prior to joining the group, that Mia and I shared, I would've cut her off too, but she was my sister and we promised to always be there for each other.

I parked in front of the huge chateau, belonging to the leader of our dismantled group. It was supposed to be a small get together, only the fab five and their plus one, but the cars splattered out of the driveway and on the road said other wise. Glancing at my self in the mirror, I pulled my now frizzy silk press back in a ponytail, adjusted my sports bra and smeared lip gloss on my lips. Maybe, I should’ve brought a change of clothes. Opting out of being completely careless, I pulled my light purple jacket from my gym bag and placed it over my body. My gym outfit was colorful, but not too bad. Why do I even care? 

I checked the time that read, 8:03. My plane departed around two o’clock so I had my escape plan ready. Everything was packed back at the hotel but that was going to be my excuse. I plan on gettting out of here by nine o’clock, amen. Before I even arrived to the door, it swung open letting out an aroma of weed and alcohol. It’s about to be a long night.

“BITCHHHHHH! I missed you!” Mia yelled out, fake because we’ve been with each other for the entire weekend. I squealed and pushed her off of me quickly, denying that type of physical contact.

“Leigha!!!” And just like that the other three members of the fab five were embracing my body, kissing, grabbing and tugging all over me. Some touchy bitches they were. 

“We missed you so much!” Keiosha practically screamed in my ear while hugging me. 

“Okay get off me!” I said pushing them, knowing how I felt about intimacy.

“UGHH, you couldn’t find some better clothes?” Tori asked with a disgusted expression plastered across her gorgeous face. She wore a light blue, fitted, thin spaghetti strap dress with some strappy, nude heels, showcasing all of her womanly curves and kick ass body. Her thick hair was pulled up into a curly ponytail, leaving her shimmery shoulders on full display. A whole meal and I wanted a bite. My mouth watered ready to taste the rich chocolate and if she wasn’t such a bitch, I would have asked, even begged to have a piece.

“You couldn’t find a darker foundation shade?” Her makeup was fine but I wanted to match her tone. 

“Tuh, bitch, my makeup is beaT.” her arms found her chest. 

“Yea-” my mouth was ready to combat. 

“Alright, Leigha, everybody is here and they’re so excited to see you.” Mia took my hand and walked me through the foyer, up the stairs and down to the party room where the rest of the guest were. If it wasn’t for her, Tori and I would have stood there fighting for dominance with our words daring the other to make a move. The tension between us was sexual on my end but volatile on hers, which is not a good combination. She’s still mad I broke up the group. Mad because she can’t control me like she does the rest of these girls.

I greeted all of the guest individually, genuinely happy to see everyone. There were a couple of football players, dance members and ‘popular’ kids along with the boyfriends of the fab five spread out in the dim-lit room. I get sick to my stomach thinking about how much these people love to hang on to their high school glory days. That shit was three whole years ago, it’s time to grow up.

One thing I can give Tori is that, the devil knew how to throw bomb ass parties. The music was banging from the wall speakers and the decor complimented her home well. Rose gold accessories were spread out on the tables and floor with off white flowers creating that bougie feeling. It was a small party, to her standards, so there was no need for catering. She had a food table, with finger foods and a sweets table with cookies and brownies. To the far right of the room, there was a bar with pre-rolled blunts on a rose gold platters. I walked over to the bar and found a bottle of water. Making my way around the room, I stopped at the food table and viewed my options.

“Leigha, when are you going back home?” I was picking through the small selection of finger food when I heard Tori’s irritating voice over the soft talking and speakers. Of course everyone stopped when the queen began.

After filling my plate, I turned to her and stated bluntly, “At two AM.”

“So let me get this straight,” my legs worked their way to an empty chair, “You just got out here from California, today, after three years of no communication and now you’re leaving for California in a few hours?” Her hip swayed to the side and stayed, her hand meeting it. 

“No,” I placed the plate on the table and took a bite from my cucumber, “I came here Thursday and I’m leaving tomorrow, which is Tuesday, at two AM.” I plopped my fingers in my mouth and sucked them loud enough for her to turn up her nose at my rude table manners.

“See! This bitch is a whole ass bird.” I chuckled at her choice of words and dug into my tuna sandwich. The chatter picked up again and the four girls pulled up some chairs close to me.

“Lei, why didn’t you tell us you were here?” Keiosha spoke, the mediator of the five. Her hair was in a blunt cut and she wore a silk, red pants, two piece. Her and Tori had on the same shoes. Jade, a light skinned devil, sat next to her with her gorgeous body covered in a cute, orange romper. Mia was trying to contain her laugh while she stared at me with the other set of eyes.

“I didn’t want all of the attention on me. We all know how Tori gets when people aren’t talking about her all time.” Mia lost it.

“Cut the shit. You know exactly why you failed to inform us of your arrival, exactly why you failed to tell us about you going to UCLA. Ex-fucking-zackly why we had to get updates about your life for three fucking years from Mia. You're a coward. You and Mia are two selfish ass bitches who only think about yourselves.” Rolling her long neck, she placed her arms over her breasts pushing them up a bit

“If you don’t get the fu-“ My insult was cut short when the chatter in the room picked up, volume increasingly high. We all stood up in unison, ready to defend each other from a possible threat. 

Unfortunately it wasn’t a murderer or a thief, nope, it was much worse, Erik Stevens showed up. The way I left things off with Erik was nothing short of a disaster. He was in the dark like everyone else. Mia promised me that he didn't know about this party. She told me that she made everyone promise not to tell him about it. My stomach knotted and sweat built up on my already scorching skin. 

“Why is he here?” fear was laced in my tone.

“I invited him.” Tori announced pulling down her dress and making her way towards him. Jade and Keiosha followed like puppies, waiting for their owner’s command. Me and Mia sat down watching the pettiness exude from their perfect bodies. I wanted to get up and smack fire into them greasy bitches, but my memory of Tori’s power slapped me out of the thought. 

“I hate that bitch! She’s always starting some shit. I’m sick of her, man. How do you still hang out with her?” Mia touched my leg as it shook fiercely and looked down at her feet. Against all of my natural reflexes, I left her hand there and rubbed my thumb on her skin trying to ease mine and her nerves.

“They’re all I have, Leigha. You left me, remember?” My body couldn’t have turned quicker.

“That’s not fair. You could have came with me, you didn’t!” 

“Tuh, you’re the one who got that Gates Scholarship, Lei, not me! I couldn’t afford a move to Cali and I for damn sure wasn’t getting into UCLA.” Her arms found her chest and her body slouched in the chair. My lack of problem solving skills and empathy made me turn back around in my seat and glance at the wall, all thoughts of Erik’s presence pushed out my head, guilt replacing it. “I missed you, you know? You’re my best friend. The only person who knows everything about me. You ju-“

“You told me this before, Mia. I don’t want to hear this shit.” Standing up, I walked to the door that led to the balcony and slammed it shut behind me.

What did they expect from me? I don’t live my life for them. I’m tired of being the backbone. They need to learn to survive on their own, I’m doing it. Pressuring me to conform to them and cater to their needs is only going to push me away further. Mia will be alright. She don’t need me, man.

My thoughts were cut short when I heard the door open and shut behind me. “Mia, it’s my last night with you. I don’t feel like this, okay?” My legs turned so my eyes could fall on a creature that was the exact opposite of my soft best friend. With his dreads pulled back in two braids that ran to the back of his neck, his firm features were on full display. The gold in his mouth glistened on his pearl, white teeth as his dimples made an appearance. He looked simple with a plain white, fitted shirt, light washed jeans and white Nike’s.

“Do I look like Mia, lil nigga.”

“Fuck no. Mia’s not nearly as ugly.” I turned around to my original spot and placed my arms on the metal gate that circumferenced the balcony. Shortly, he stood next to me, his shoulder touching mine.

“Now you know I’m not ugly.” I felt his eyes burning the side of my face. Naturally, I turned to meet his gaze.

“You may not be ugly but you certainly not cute so what is it?” Gorgeous, an angel, crafted from the finest soil and molded by Jesus himself? Yes. 

He showed his grill again and put his hand on my hips pulling me into his chest. My nipple grazed his bumpy upper body and my vagina shuttered at the touch. Aren’t I supposed to be feeling some type of guilt or anxiety? Nope, I’m horny. The same feelings that ran through my bones three years ago resurfaced for this man and my previous nerves vanished at his touch. 

“I missed your smart ass.” Surprisingly, I welcomed his embrace and we stood there for a while, silent. It was nice to be held by a strong, confident human again. I haven’t felt this feeling in a while. Hugging was such an intimate thing for me, being an empath and all. Auras and spirits are absorbed through hugging so I try not to do it too often. Emotions were transferred from their body into mine and I felt some of his strength radiating through my blood while his arms pulled me closer. I wonder what emotions he took from me.

“You feel so good in my arms, lil nigga.” His softness surprised me, why isn't he yelling, making a scene? Something big twitched near my lower region and I knew that wasn’t his leg. I pushed him off of me, breaking the contact.

“Alright, that’s enough.” My arms found the rail again.

“You wasn’t trying to come to this party, huh?” Closing my eyes, I prepared to get dragged. At his lack of words, I opened them and found his eyes on me scanning my body. I looked down and remembered my work out attire.

Relieved, I chuckled lightly and did a slow spin while swaying my hips. “You not feeling it? Straight from the clearance rack at Academy.” I stopped and met his expression.

“Oh, I love it. The color contrast is what really speaks to me. A purple sweater, a pink sports bra and green shorts. Girl, what you trying to do, taste the rainbow?” I cackled. He always came prepared with the jokes.

“Anyways,” My legs moved to the lawn chairs displayed against the back of the house, he followed.

“Speaking of rainbows, you still with that gay shit? Mia told me about you dating girls and shit.” I’m killing the bitch. My sexuality wasn’t something that I brought up to just anyone, so I trusted her with that information. I didn’t even explore the thought until I got to California but that’s beside the point. Let’s get into this nigga trying to invalidate my entire existence.

“What you mean ‘still into that gay shit?’ As if it was some kind of phase or act of rebellion? And I’m not gay, I’m bi-or- I don’t know, but boy, you can get the hell on with your dismissive tone.”

He pulled a blunt out his pocket and lit the end with the tip in his mouth. “Mmhm.” He took a drag and then held it out for me to grab. I swatted it and shook my head ‘no’.

“You’re still a square, I see.”

“You’re still annoying, I see.” I layed my head back on the lawn chair and stretched my body across the seat, memories of us in high school playing in my head.

~

“What if we get caught, Erik?” We walked behind the math building, going to Erik’s infamous smoke spot. It’s where all the rebels like Erik and his bad ass friends went to do God knows what. They smoked over here, had sex, shot dice you name it. No matter what it was, it was trouble and I had a reputation and scholarship to keep, so did Erik.

“We not going to get caught, relax.” His hand was soft in mine, making me swoon at his touch. Whatever he asked me to do, I did. I don’t even know why, honestly. He’s my closest friend besides Mia, but my feelings weren’t as strong for her as they were for him. We finally stopped at a spot hidden by an old raggedy storage unit. He pulled out a neatly rolled blunt and lit the end with the tip in his mouth. Taking a drag, he inhaled and let out the smoke then placed it in my hand.

“I don’t know what to do.” I admitted with no shame. Erik never made me feel insecure, everything was peaceful with him. I experienced a lot of firsts with him, this moment being one of them.

“Just place it between your lips, suck and inhale slowly, then let the smoke out.” He explained, simply. I did what he said but, somehow didn't have the same outcome as him. Instead, I was a coughing mess, cuffing and squeezing my chest. That stuff burned. I guess it was a comedy show to him because he laughed loud ass hell shaking and clapping his hands.

“Nigga, that’s not funny. I could’ve died.” I placed the death stick back in his hand and watched him in disgust. “But, I’m happy you’re amused.”

“Here, do it again.” He moved it to my face and I rejected his offer shaking my head ‘no’.

“I’ve had enough, thank you.” He took another drag and repeated the same action.

“Come on, man. I don’t want to do it on my own.” He made puppy dog eyes and fluttered his long lashes. I refused to succumb to his blatant manipulation and peer pressure.

“I said no, big nigga! Now hurry up before we get caught.” He laughed and finished off the blunt.

“Square.”

~

I smiled softly recounting that iconic moment in my life. Erik noticed my expression and spoke up gently. “What you smiling at?”

“You and how much shit you dragged me in.” He laughed sitting back in the chair beside me.

“Yeah, but you let me. I did as much as you allowed.” There wasn’t a lie in sight.  If Erik asked me to jump, I didn’t even have to ask how high, I already knew. No matter what we did, I always knew that he had my back. I guess that’s why I followed him like a lost puppy, along with the attention he gave me that I so desperately needed.

“Yeah, I was stupid. But all that shit gone change when we turn forty, Craig.” Getting the reference, he laughed and placed his hand on mine squeezing lightly.

“You weren’t stupid, just in love.” Speechless, for the first time in my life, I was speechless because where is the lie? I couldn’t find it. Never have I ever been able to put how I felt about him into words and here he goes, with his all-knowing ass, telling me exactly how I felt about him. Telling me something that I would never admit out loud. 

“Nigga, didn’t nobody love your wack ass.” My hand moved trying to lose his grip. He pulled it back effortlessly.

“Don’t lie.” His tone was serious now and I felt the tension from his body enter mine. This is why I hated physical touch. “Because I, unapologetically, loved your ass.” He sat up in his chair swinging his legs to where he was in between our chairs, staring at my body. His eyes were fixed on my frame, dancing over it, admiring my figure.

“You like what you see?” I tried to change the subject.

“Love it.” There he goes with that word again. “Sit up.” I did exactly what he said, my knees meeting his. “You loved me?”

“No.” He placed his hands on my thighs and pulled my legs open.

“Don’t lie, Leigha.” My body was off the chair as he picked me up and placed me on his lap.

“Erik, if- if you already know then why- why you need me to say it?” Pleased with my undoing, his lips turned up into a sinister smirk.

“Because I want to hear you say it with your words.” He kissed my cheek gently and took a puff from his blunt that I was suprised wasn’t finished yet. Keeping the smoke in, his lips met mine as he released the smoke in my mouth. I took it in like he taught me and then blew it out the side of my mouth. His lips met mine again and I instantly submitted to their passionate touch. A moan escaped my mouth while his groin touched my moist center. My body hasn’t been touched this way in years, his touch being the last, and it’s enjoying all of the attention. “Say it.”

Without missing a beat I uttered the three words I dread saying, “I love you.” With that, he pulled me closer to his chest, syncing our bodies together. I threw my arms around his neck deepening the kiss. His strong hands moved to my shoulders sliding the jacket off of my arms. The jacket hit the ground while his soft lips met my salty neck sucking and biting the exposed skin. Whimpers left my mouth and filled the air. One would think that him and my neck had a vendetta the way he smacked and chewed on it. Rocking me back and forth on his hard shaft, his firm hands squeezed my ass. Instantly accepting the stimulation, my hips moved to his pace and soon we were dry humping on the lawn chair. I moaned and whimpered as soft as possible trying not to signal someone inside.

“Erik, please, we can’t. Not out here. T-there’s- our friends are inside.” I sat up trying to escape his movement but he puled me back down deepening the initial contact. We needed this.

“If you be quiet, they won’t hear us, baby.” I shook my head in agreement and continued moving my hips on his covered member. It was rock hard while it grazed my soaked folds over my thin layer of clothes. His lips met mine again, instantly placing his tongue between them. His tongue found every inch of space in my mouth, his lips sucking and sinking on mine. 

I broke the kiss, fed up with the teasing. “Erik, please fuck me.” He didn’t have to be asked twice. He stood me up, pulled down my shorts and placed me on his lap again in a matter of seconds. He sat up just enough to unbutton his pants and pull them down. Without hesitation, I settled down on the tip of his hard dick. His eyes met mine and my mouth opened wide. Trapping the moan I was about to let out, his lips crashed into mine. With his hands on my hips, he eased me down onto his long, thick shaft stretching every wall I had. My juices spilled all over his member, making it easier for me to slide down. I twitched and wiggled at the uncomfortable yet satisfying feeling.

“Mmmmmhhmm” I sat there for a while lips still on his adjusting to his length. He moaned into me and placed his hands on my ass. We stayed there for a minute before he got fed up.

“Move or get up!” Like the champ that I was, I pushed the uneasiness aside and moved my hips up and down his length. The man is a monster. His moan was deep and concentrated. After a while, comfort had me attacking his dick, moving to the rhythm of the muffled rap songs coming from inside. At that point, I didn't care if anyone heard us. I swayed on his dick, twerking and bouncing confidently trying to milk all of his love juice from his veiny friend. I wanted it in me. My body moved for him, trying to make up for the lost time and betrayal. My moans were sloppy like my riding, filling the dense air and encouraging my juices to spill all over his lap. My toes curled up and pressure built up in my stomach. He moaned into me neck as I reached my peak, cum shooting down his thighs. I shook at the orgasm that took over my entire body. 

Before I could come down from my high, he flipped us in the chair, positioning himself on top of me. He slammed into me like a mad man, digging for lost gold inside of my throbbing center. His thrusts were powerful and strong making my legs, that rested on his hips, allowing him to hit my special spot with each stroke, shake and quiver. 

“Say it, Leigha!” His lips found mine again. “Say it.”

“Daddy! Daddy!” I screamed unsure of what he wanted to hear. His lips traveled to my ear where he nibbled and sucked. Slowing down his strokes, his hands snaked around my body pulling me closer. 

“No, not that, baby. Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Erik.” He put his forehead on mine and a tear, that wasn't mine, met my cheek.

“Then why’d you leave me, huh?” His pace picked up and now he was attacking my slit. I felt myself getting wetter with each thrust, my orgasm coming on strong. More tears fell from his eyes and I moved to wipe them but he took my hand and pinned them above my head. “Why the fuck you left me, huh?”

“Erik, please? I-I don- OHHH!” My body shook under his fiercely, orgasm taking over. His strokes were sloppy as his warm seed traveled in my hole coating all of me. Still inside of me, he put his weight on me slowing his breaths, trying to gain his composure. My body twitched under him, wanting more. Going against my hunger, my hands moved to touch his back, rubbing up and down trying to help him with his recovery process.

A few minutes passed and he pulled out of me, pulling up and zippening his pants. I layed there, breathless, as he wiped me with my jacket and pulled me up helping me put on my shorts.

“Answer me.” He held me in his arms taking in my scent. “Why did you leave me?”

“Erik, I didn’t just leave you. I left everyone. I wanted to start a new life, I guess.” I closed my eyes and squeezed him gently, his sadness filling my bones.

“You didn’t think twice. We had plans and you just up and left without informing me,” he pushed me off of him gently. “ Do you know how fucking sad I was? My best friend, my girl, my fucking wife left me. That was selfish as fuck Leigha! You hurt all of us. We fucking needed you. I needed you. I love you!” Tears left me violently. I hated how they tried to villainize my decision of bettering my life. Why did they all try to control me? We don’t have to be stuck up each other’s ass our whole life. They can live without me.

“And I know what you’re thinking. No, we can’t fucking live without you. Tori was being a bitch, causing Kei to relapse. Jade went back to that abusive ass nigga that she won’t let me kill and Mia is just a sad, depressed, suicide case. Do you know how many hospital visits I had to make? The therapists, counselors. Nothing is working. You left us! We need you!” Quickly, my sadness turned into anger.

“How fucking dare you blame y’all fucked up life on me? Where the fuck were y’all when I needed help? Where were y’all when I was dealing with my crazy ass parents? Why the fuck am I always held accountable for y’all’s mistakes and life choices? I can’t cure depression or an eating disorder! Tori has always been a bitch and y’all know that! Y’all chose to stay here. Y’all could leave but y’all don’t!” The words left my mouth quicker than a freight train. I was not about to accept his abuse. None of that that was happening to them was my fault. We stood there for awhile staring and crying roughly. He tried to hold me but I rejected the contact. When he said nothing, I stormed through the door and grabbed my phone and keys.

“Leigha where were you?” Mia’s clingy ass asked. She saw my face and instantly softened her tone, “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Fuck you, Mia!” That wasn’t the words that I wanted to say but that’s what came out. I was a mess.

“Bitch, what’s wrong with your dramatic ass?” Although the words were harsh, Tori was genuinely concerned as she ran after me with the other women while I ran to my car. I unlocked the car, opened the door and plopped down in my seat. Putting my key in the ignition I locked my doors, put the car in reverse and backed out. The women screamed words and beat on my car window begging me to stay and talk to them. I looked at the clock that read, 9:45. A few more hours and I would finally be back home. This place fucking sucks.

~ 

The ride back to the hotel was annoying and so was the ride to the airport. Surprisingly, Mia didn't show up, with the rest of them, at my hotel. I wanted to sleep away the emotions that Erik forced out of me, but I couldn't. Instead, I laid on the bed crying, for hours, begging the universe to take away the pain. I hated that he brought all of that up. He had no right to make me feel bad about their problems. I wasn't this kind of savior that they made me out to be. They needed professional help, all of them and I was just as fucked up as they were. 

They all text me like crazy people. Between the five of them, I had over one hundred notifications: missed Facetime calls, audio calls, messages and even snapchats. These hoes were relentless. 

One missed message stood out the most to me. It was a message from Tori, the wicked witch of the West:

-If you leave here without saying goodbye, make it a priority to not come back.

The words sat heavy on my chest. The audacity of her to think that I was going to come back, anyway.  

Bound II 

tags: @eriknutinthispoosy @theunsweetenedtruth @yourstrulyylauren @yoyolovesbucky 

I wanted to keep going but 6k words was enough henny. Idk? lol but please give me some feedback and tell me what I need to work harder at. 

[grace-evelyn]

Diary entry 2

Tuesday 26th March 2019

Before I start I just want to make sure that everyone is on the same page and has the same understanding about my job and my industry.

I do not need to be saved, I have chosen to work in this industry and in this job. The only hardship I experience from this job is from outsiders judging.

My job does not define me as a person, it does not make me anything other than a young girl who is confident, extroverted and ambitious. I have worked in retail, sales and hospitality and I still do social media management work and sales every now and then.

I do not come from a broken home and I do not have ‘daddy issues’. These stereotypes are so untrue to my industry and ESPECIALLY the club that I work in.

The men that enter my workplace are not all ‘creeps’ and ‘disgusting’, in fact I have met some of the most incredible people through my work place and I have learnt so much from these people too. I enjoy most of my customers company, they are paying for a service, therefore they are respectful of the women they are paying. I have met elite athletes, actors, singers and CEO’s through work. People make the assumption that dirty hobos come into my workplace- but would this kind of person be able to afford $50 for a 10 minute dance? Or $400 for 1 hour of my time? No, hence why my customers are not disgusting and I do not hate dancing for them or talking to them.

LEARNING TO DANCE/ BEING CONFIDENT ON STAGE

When I first got a job as a dancer I was so nervous but I have always been very confident in bathers/ underwear so that part was okay for me. Tbh if you’re not comfortable in your own skin then you shouldn’t even think about this job. I’ve always been an attention whore and I love being on stage and the centre of attention so that helped too. I did dancing when I was in school but I’d never done pole. I had a 2 hour private pole dancing class at pole princess in the city, I learnt about grip, a few basic spins and how to climb the pole. It was really hard and frustrating but I was happy that I at least knew the basics.

My first night I was sooo nervous and I wore the tackiest outfit lol I also hadn’t bought proper pole shoes so I was wearing a pair of cheap lipstick heels all night.

They gave us a few free glasses of champagne which helped me to Loosen up, when it was my turn I felt a lot better and I actually killed it. The girls said I was a little fast but that is super common for baby strippers. After that I felt fine and couldn’t wait to go on again!

It’s super important to watch what the other girls do on stage and to listen to the music. One of the older girls told me that i had a good body so I didn’t need to move too much, I could be more sensual and it didn’t matter about pole tricks. I think my biggest advice is that audience intersection is your best friend!!! I am all about face and looking into customers eyes- this works so well to build a connection with them without even speaking to them.  

It definitely takes time and I highly recommend watching YouTube videos on how to pole dance just so you know the basics. Also when it’s quiet that’s the best time to practice

2. HOW IT WORKS

every club is different and has different rules, I am so lucky to work at the best club in Melbourne and possibly even Australia- The Men’s Gallery. We are hired as subcontractors and we pay a house fee to work. On weeknights we pay $80 and on weekends we pay $120. Each club charges different amounts though. At men’s we are a non touching club, which means that men are not allowed to touch us at all (with little exceptions like arms or legs), however there are more and more clubs now that are allowing touching in dances. No, we do not offer ‘extras’ and if there are girls doing this in the club they will be fired on the spot.

We make our money from dances and VIP bookings, dances are 3 minutes for $20, 10 minutes for $50, half an hour shower room for $250 and one hour for $400. We’ve just introduced new VIP rooms so we now have a karaoke room and a shower room which is so fun.

The club doesn’t take a cut from what we make but some clubs do.

3. HIRING PROCESS

Again- every club is different but I have worked at four different clubs so I do have an understanding of the main processes of each club. I am 99% sure that no club will ever make you ‘audition’ on stage. However I have heard rumours of spearmint doing this. Most clubs will just run through a few basic questions like whether you’ve danced before and whether you understand the rules, have pole experience etc. it’s pretty chill. They’ll then ask you to take your clothes off and they’ll take a photo of you in your underwear and that’s pretty much it. At men’s they’ll either hire you on the spot or leave you hanging or give you a trial shift. It is really competitive these days and there are always new girls in and out. They can also fire you with 0 notice for whatever reason they want. If management doesn’t like you then they’ll just stop letting you roster on, this ha the same at every club.

4. THE GIRLS

A lot of people always ask me if it’s really catty/ competitive at men’s and I just want to say that all through school I always struggled to get along well with girls and I hated going to an all girls school. But working at men’s I’ve never had so many female friends and I’ve never felt so welcome and warm in a community of women. It is really like a family. However, it did take me at least a year to feel fully comfortable and confident in the change rooms as it can be very intimidating and loud. As a new dancer you can’t just waltz into the changerooms and expect everyone to be your friend because to be honest we don’t really like any new girls at first. You’re fresh meat and you don’t fully understand how everything works. So it’s a really good idea to lay low until you’re welcomed fully. Try to avoid making friends early as well because you want to focus on hustling and making money and the moment you have friends you get lazy!! Also friends always equal drama, that’s unavoidable and you don’t need that at your work place. Be friendly with everyone but avoid getting too close too soon.

5. TIPS

SAVE YOUR FUCKING MONEY. SAVE IT. JUST DO IT. the money you make when you’re a baby stripper will be the easiest money you’ll ever make so fucking make a savings account and put at least $1000 in a week. That’s easy to do. I only started doing this after a year and I regretted it. I know this is like really shocking but you actually don’t need to go to Nobu 3 times a week or buy expensive cocktails every time you go out. Live like you still make $20 an hour at maccas.

GET AN ACCOUNTANT. I’ll never forget when my mate turned around to me and goes ‘what are taxes??’ This bitch had been working in the industry for over a year. If you’re depositing your cash into the bank every week the ATO is gonna come for you. Get a dodgy ass stripper accountant and pay ur taxes. Also get an ABN.

Some strippers live week by week which I don’t get, the golden rule to saving and making money is to make more money than you spend. So if you’re living like a fukn queen and you have $0 in your bank by the end of the week you need to either roster on for another shift or you need to calm the fuk down on the bags and dinners.

DONT PAY FOR YOUR PARTNER. I learnt this the hard way, I didn’t realise I was spending so much on my ex until I was fully over him. Dinners, presents, tickets, drinks, holidays. Everything. If he guilt trips you into spending your money on him because he doesn’t like what you do then DUMP HIM. your partner should love you for you and understand that your job doesn’t define you as a person. WORK IS WORK. Stop guilt spending, save your cash because you may not even be with this person forever like you think you will be, and I promise you’ll feel like an idiot in the end.

LOVE YOURSELF, TAKE TIME FOR YOURSELF. breaks and holidays are a necessity to avoid stripper burnout. Yes that is a thing and yes it will kill you. This job is tough both mentally and physically and it will affect you in the long run. You need to be proactive in taking care of your body and your mind. No that doesn’t mean drinking alcohol or taking drugs to forget, that means going away for a weekend, doing yoga, having a night in, spending time with family.

[migleefulmoments]

“you can all celebrate him willingly walking to his execution and I promise that after I make a few final goodbye” Dear lord. HIS EXECUTION?! I’m gonna need them all to take like a zillion massive steps backward. They’re really saying Darren marrying Mia is equivalent to his death. I can’t. What the hell? They can’t honestly think this sounds sane, can they?

In all fairness they have spent the last 4 or 5 years with ajw as their Chairman of the Board. She is a ruthless leader who had no trouble spinning a fantasy that was predicated on anti-Mia hate and bullying. As the self-appointed leader, she took a position of claiming most of her fabricated theories were the truth and she often claimed she knew WHAT Chris or Darren were thinking about a given situation.  I could go on and on and on but her statement yesterday is a great summation of how her thinking is jaded by her fantasies.

The thing is nonnie, it isn’t just career.  This isn’t just choosing straight. It is choosing straight AND:

A woman he literally despises and that has egregiously hurt him repeatedly

RR, the most inept manager of all time, who works for his beard

The bar that has complete personality disorder and that requires him to promote it more than anything in his career and to be physically present frequently

All of the enablers who need to be promoted constantly and this includes her friends and many of his friends

Likely giving up C for good because to me, the situation looks much different when it becomes willing. A marriage is willing, I just don’t see C being ok with this.

Being paired to a woman that acts badly. She rolls joints in cars and posts in SM, has not work ethic, parties continuously, etc etc

To me IF he wanted to choose straight, he would choose a classy beard that actually was ambitious and would bolster his image not hinder it.

This is about so much more than choosing straight. If marries M, I don’t think he ever breaks free. And M comes with too much baggage.  I honestly don’t see him surviving it long-term.

And for the record, I don’t think D is choosing straight, but i just want to emphasize M is much much more than just choosing his career over his truth.  I literally think he would need a personality transplant to make this choice.

This entire manifesto of HER beliefs about Darren getting married are nothing more than HER theories based on HER fantasy and HER HER HERHERHERHE. 

Choosing straight? Darren has constantly and constantly said he is straight since 2010. At NO time did he suggest, hint, or hem & haw that he was anything but straight. The “Darren is queer” trope is entirely fabricated and perpetuated within the CC fandom. They truly believe he is queer and then proceeds to out him on a daily basis. That is fucked up. 

A woman he literally despises and that has egregiously hurt him repeatedly? Darren has never so much as suggested he was angry at Mia let along “despises” her. We have never seen them break up or take a break. They worked together on Glee and they own a bar together. They spend a lot of time with one another. In fact, the CCers have spent many hours arguing that “it isn’t normal” that they spent so much time with the one they love. The few times that  Darren has talked about Mia over the years have constant - he loves, he loves her a lot. She has accompanied him to events for many years and in the last 4 yeas she has been to most of his events. The only ones who “despise:” Mia are the jealous CCers. 

Egregiously hurt him? Once again, there is not one story that is rooted in reality. Most couples hurt one another at some point but there is nothing that we, as fans, are privy too and nothing that reaches the level of “egregiously”. If there was then it would up to Darren’s family and friends to intervene and his family and friends like her. Darren’s family interact with her in a way one would expect of their soon-to-be DIL. Fans have seen them together at shows. There is nothing to suggest they don’t like her.  And there are no stories of Mia hurting Darren that weren’t manufactured by the CC fandom.

RR, the most inept manager of all time, who works for his beard? I know you won’t be surprised to know that stories of RR ineptness are also made up. How would any fan know what Ricky is doing for Darren? We don’t.  We do know that Darren calls Ricky his good friend and that he followed Ricky when he started his own business. I know that he hired a music PR company and told them that he only needed promotions services because he had his own manager he wants to stick with( I randomly met the music PR company CEO on an airplane). Darren’s career is flying, he is busy AF with lots of projects and the two men have worked out relationship that works well for them both. Managers aren’t allowed to control their actors lives as CCers have suggest. He must work on behalf of Darren, in Darren’s best interest at all times or Darren could end the contract. Ricky isn’t working for Mia…where would Mia get the money to pay him? Why would he hurt someone that so many people in Hollywood love- he would ruin his career when that got out. Nobody who is in Darren’s world sees anything amiss but we are supposed to believe CCers? OKAYYYY  This is another trope that AJW fabricated that isn’t based on a shred of reality but it helps her explain why Darren is not out of the closest and why he doesn’t talk to Chris and why Mia is still around.  

The bar that has complete personality disorder and that requires him to promote it more than anything in his career and to be physically present frequently The bar doesn’t have a personality disorder. It is an over-21 bar with theme nights that are well advertised. It is so easy to find a rationale explanation for why Darren promotes the bar more than anything in his career: Because IT IS HIS BAR and he LIKES it.

All of the enablers who need to be promoted constantly and this includes her friends and many of his friends This is disgusting. These are his friends…. friends he has cared about for many years. The ccProblem is that they like Mia and that can’t be so they are labeled ccEnablers. Darren’s important relationships are belittled and denigrated so that CCers can ignore the obvious - that Darren’s friends love Mia. They aren’t enablers: they are supporting a real relationship between two people they all love very much.

Likely giving up C: He was never with Chris. That was all made up in the cc fandom’s head. Chris is living his live unbothered by what is happening in Darren’s life right now because they have nothing to do with one another. 

Being paired to a woman that acts badly. She rolls joints in cars and posts in SM, has not work ethic, parties continuously, etc etc Let’s be clear, there are no examples of her acting badly that are based in reality. The CCers spend a lot of time and energy creating and publicizing Mia Acting Badly but it is all ccNonsense. Pot: She and her friends rolled 1 joint, in 1 car, 1 time. Most Americans are smoking pot today and it is legal in CA so it is ridiculous to keep bring this up. She has no work ethic: She OWNS a bar. We have no idea what else she does. She could be doing projects that we don’t see- things that aren’t made-for-social-media moments. She is on Ryan Murphy’s charity and she has done freelance work so there may be stuff we don’t know of, idk. It doesn’t matter if she is doing a lot or nothing more than owning her bar and supporting Darren’s career because that is the choice that they made as a couple in a relationship as couples do. It isn’t any of our business. 

Parties continuously: Also a CC trope that has no evidence to back it up….they just keep throwing it out hoping it sticks. It hasn’t. This trope is based on CCers deep desire to slander Mia and they caught her standing near glasses of unknown substances, belonging to unknown person at TSG so yaknow, she’s drunk amirght? Most of the time, Mia is with Darren so idk where they get the idea she is a partier unless Darren is a partier and we know that they cannot EVER, Ever, ever entertain the idea that Darren is or was ever a drunk, frat-bro. The other day they dug up a blind from 2014 that claimed Mia was doing cocaine and acting like an asshole but there was nobody thought to grab their phone and start recording. SHOCKING. Also utter BS. 

etc etc etc: All of their examples  of Mia “acting badly” are fake. I have vetted them all. There are a lot of stories of Mia treating fans badly and yet there is not ONE video; not one photo of these moments? Amazing that fans are video taping Darren’s show and the stage door moments but they never catch Mia being a raving bitch to Darren’s fans.  It’s almost like they aren’t real. 

To me IF: yes to me to me to me to me me me me me memememememe its all about her. 

M comes with too much baggage: Louis Vuitton? I’m super jealous. Darren has loved Mia for almost 9 years. He knows her baggage well. The CCers on the other hand, have no clue what is real and have fabricated a lot of fantasy luggage they will be left standing with as Darren and Mia walk down the aisle toward one another and their new life.

I honestly don’t see him surviving it long-term.This always makes me chuckle. What exactly do you imagine will happen? What actually happens to people who “don’t survive long term?” That makes for a great fiction story, the plot of many movies but what happens in real life? She imagines what about Darren?  

According to CC trope, Darren is living a life of hell right now- lying to everyone, having to keep a billion balls in the air and all the lies and stories straight. He has to lie to everyone and keep track of those lies- lies to friends, fans, family, interviewers, team members, Mia’s family, Mia’s friends,TSG patrons, and people he works with on set. He has to pretend and ACT like he likes Mia at Hollywood events, TSG, weekends with Starkid, in front of fans and with their families. He has to spend all day with Mia and run home to Chris for 2 hours of snuggling and spooning. He has to engage his parents in participating in stunts to keep the ruse going. He has to get everyone who knows to lie for him. 

If he breaks it off with Chris and marries Mia, he stays in the closet and just lives his life. Yes, he is denying his sexuality-but many men in Hollywood have done so for many years. and according to ajw, staying in the closet and having a beard is the norm right now. Let’s be real, he is doing all of this- hiding in the closet, marrying Mia, and forsaking Chris in order to keep his fame. There is no other reason to keep his sexuality hidden except for fame because literally nobody but Ryan Murphy, Fox Studio, Ricky Rollins and Mia Swier CARE what Darren’s sexuality is. He could be a lawyer in NYC and nobody would care if he was queer…or an actor in San Francisco or run a theatre in Michigan. He is literally Ariel, trading his sexuality and sexual freedom to Ursula in exchange for his career. 

Staying hidden deep in the closet and forsaking his love would be a horrible price to pay for sure but to me it seems far less horrible than the story spun by the CrissColfers that describe a life of deception, fear, and a lack of integrity.  In this scenario, marrying Mia means he lies to himself about his sexuality but in exchange he gets to stop lying to EVERYONE else. 

The truth is that all of the CC theories are based on 2 things: 

the CCer’s baseless hatred of a woman they don’t know

they are concocted to explain why Darren’s behavior and words do not support the most basic CC trope: that Darren is queer and that he and Chris are in a long-term committed relationship.

Every single CC trope and theory was fabricated in direct response to something Darren did or said that did not reflect that is queer and/or in love with Chris Colfer. The tropes are fabricated as explanations for behavior that does not uphold CrissColfer and this has led to an enormous number of unrelated and complicated tropes. As we get farther away from Glee and it became readily apparent to everyone except the CC fandom that Chris and Darren do not have a public relationship, the tropes rely more and more on an endless number of “contracts” that seem to serve no purpose other than to “promote” Mia and/or ruin Darren’s life. It is all utter rubbish. 

The most logical, most simple, easier explanation as to why Darren said or did something that doesn’t uphold CrissColfer is that 

Darren Criss Loves Mia Swier

That one simple sentence solves all of the mysteries about Darren’s behavior over the last 10 years.  

[elementarypolitics]

The Joke of Phoenix Comicfest...

Phoenix Comic Fest* has decided to up the ante from last year and just blatantly say “fuck you fans, we don’t care about you.” So, a quick recap of last year’s insanity. Some lunatic came in with a slew of weapons with the goal of killing the actor who played the Green Power Ranger. Because even at its most lax, Phoenix PD and convention security aren’t unspeakably incompetent, the lunatic didn’t make it very far…but while the powers that be aren’t unspeakably incompetent, they are incompetent. Their genius idea in response to this clearly out of the norm incident was to ban all weapons—real looking, fake looking, wood staffs, plastic blasters, light sabers. That’s really smart because one of them fake plastic lightsabers might be the real physics defying tool of mass destruction and some Sith might decide to just start hacking people apart. It got so bad one of the vendors selling really good collectible lightsabers (still just plexiglass and lights, so not remotely deadly) was escorted off the dealer’s floor. And the company in charge of the event had many contradictory explanations as to why (none of them remotely believable)… because you never know when the plexiglass could magically turn into a stick of deadly plasma hotter than the core of the sun apparently. But it gets better. Every person had to be searched by the woefully understaffed security of the event which meant that people wait in lines…lines that went around the building several times…on Memorial Day…in downtown Phoenix. Yes, more people were harmed from heat stroke last year in line than were harmed by lunatics with weapons in the history of Comicon (I’ll admit I didn’t search every police report, but I did do a search and couldn’t find anything). Also despite the fact that the police requiring this level of security just created a huge mass of stationary targets for any lunatic who did want to hurt people, they also overreacted and instead of realizing the truth that “well we hit the lunatic quota for the decade, probably won’t have any more problems this weekend” as, you know as sane and moderately intelligent person would do, according to several people who spoke off the record, all of SWAT was out on the rooftops ready for action all weekend. As any idiot could have told them before hand, they weren’t needed. Please do remember this is Arizona, where police give contradictory orders and then shoot to kill unarmed people who can’t follow two contradictory orders at the same time…because Arizona police are both stupid and fucking cowards. They also fire gas on people who protest tyranny.** But back to Comicon. In addition to all of this, vendors on the floor also had a lot of trouble breaking even, and I know some aren’t even going this year. So last year was a cluster fuck of epic proportions. But the company in charge thought that they could do better this year!

How you ask? Well in the past most conventions have panels. Lots of panels. They rent huge convention centers and the goal is to fill each and every conference room with as many different panels from open to close to keep the nerds happy. Movies, comics, cosplay, cartoons, games, writing, trivia, dating, blood donation, signups. You name it there was probably a panel for it. Yes, the company running the convention ran through submitted panel ideas, but they accepted anything and everything, let the fans pick the topics, and tried to simply offer as wide a variety of ideas and discussion out there to entertain as many people. It was little more than organized chaos, and it was wonderful because it let the ideas and intellect of geekdom shine in the free flow way the creative process and the love of fandoms relies on. But letting nerds be nerds was apparently not for Phoenix Comic Fest. What do the nerds know, after all? They’re only the people paying the tickets and the ones coming to see all the stuff. Please don’t just take my word for it. Here are the actual words of the Square Egg:

Yes “Themes.” Do they even tell you what those themes are? Nope. They are keeping things so tightly controlled that you need to hold a seance just to know how you goose-step in line with them.

Now I could go off on them…but, the original response to this is so much better than I could ever put it…

    My personal favorite was that one of our panels that was turned down because it didn’t meet with the themes/celebrities of the Con was a panel of the political implication of Star Trek…because Star Trek has nothing to do with a convention whose headline celebrity this year is William Shatner. In the 25th Anniversary year of DS9. At a nerd con where Star Trek is always relevant. If that doesn’t leave you going WTF, I don’t know what would. If you want to say the description of our panel wasn’t interesting, that’s fine. That’s a matter of taste. But to say Star Trek isn’t relevant…I have to assume the people who run this shit show have never actually had anything to do with any fandom ever.

  Now do they have every right to do this? Yes, yes they have every right to do it. They’re fronting the money for the convention center, they’re booking the guests, they’re the one putting all the risk on the line. So, I’m not going to be a petulant child and scream “censorship” because this is not censorship. They’re not stopping me or anyone else from speaking, they’re only saying the podium they paid for isn’t open to everyone. They have every right. But we as fans have every right to say we don’t like what they’re selling. We liked the free exchange of ideas, not a spoon-fed list of topics. We’d like diversity of thought in what to choose from in terms of what panels to go see. We’d like to see our fandoms have a panel even if you couldn’t get a celebrity from that particular show or movie to make it out to the city which is hotter than seventh circle of Hell. So, this is not censorship, censorship only applies when it’s done by the government…this is the free market, and they have the ability to profit or fail (given their incompetence I would bet against profit, but who knows).

    So, if this isn’t censorship, why is any of this important? If you believe that politics isn’t downstream from culture then this isn’t important. I am just a nerd bitching into the darkness because only one of his panels was approved. But if you believe that politics is downstream from culture, then it really matters because it means that culture is becoming more controlled than any time I can think of. Science Fiction, Fantasy, Comics and all the other genres that traditionally go along with conventions of this sort were once the bastion of free thinking ideas, of politically unpopular statements, of the voices on the fringes for good and bad. Star Trek is the first place to show a woman of color in a position of power—it may seem all too trite now where mass media slobbers all over itself to put out one formulaic piece after another with all the main minority and interest group boxes checked—but in its time it was a powerful message. Robert Heinlein and Margaret Atwood’s works warned of the dangers of religiously driven populism. The Twilight Zone and Star Trek offered hope in the future. The science fiction stories of even more traditionally serious writers like E.M. Forester, Kurt Vonnegut, and George Orwell offered us warnings about technology and what government can do with it. This has always been some of the richest ground for the seeds of social change and intellectual freedom. But now Disney through Marvel and Star Wars offers formulaic tripe in the form of explosion joke explosion joke explosion joke tied together with a paper-thin plot…and with Justice League DC jumped on that mindless bandwagon. Star Trek has become a poor imitator of Star Trek on the big screen and a teen dystopian novel on the small screen. And speaking of teen novels, the genre that once gave us Wrinkle in Time gave is now spewing mindless YA novels with characterless protagonists that aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on and would be an insult to kindling to use as fire starter (and the less said about that Wrinkle movie from a writer and director who clearly never read the book the better). The only visions of the future exist somewhere between the Thunderdome and Battle Royale. The optimism in the human spirit in The Twilight Zone and Babylon 5 has been replaced by the bleak pessimism of Orphan Black and Black Mirror. Hell, even The Doctor has become a bitter and cynical shell of its former self. And while the written has fared a little better, the fact that Martin—with his message that humans are all vile disgusting things—has seen major success, doesn’t say much either. And now the conventions are ensuring that this single line of argument continues by ensuring only the topics they want are the ones discussed.

Now I’m not saying that all these new visions of science fiction and fantasy are bad. There has always and SHOULD always be that strain in the deeper levels of these genres. The problem is that there is yin to the yang. The DCEU under Snyder and Nolan with its philosophical richness was the perfect counterpoint to the mindless entertainment of Marvel. If you didn’t like one you had the other. Now they’re both mindless. The thoughtful science fiction of Star Trek which had a vague understanding of science and powerful social commentary was the perfect balance to the fun space opera of Star Wars. Now you just have mindless fun from both. The Twilight Zone countered the Outer Limits, Babylon 5 balanced Stargate, Buffy was not Xena, Dollhouse was for people who wanted more thought than Dark Angel. There used to be balance between hope and cynicism, fun and thoughtfulness, utopian and dystopian visions, substance and style. As there should be. But now we’re just being fed the same cynical, stylistic, fun, and dystopian vision from the content makers and being told by even the fan conventions to march lockstep to their tune. The people selling this crap will respond it’s what the people will buy…but Dennis Miller had a response to this for two decades, it’s for the same reason Eskimos eat whale blubber: it’s the only thing we’re being offered. And the fact is that the Snyder vision of Superman made money, that Whedon pile of trash barely broke even. If you don’t think this both reflects society’s problems and creates those problems, you’re deluded. Phoenix Comic Fest is a symptom, but it’s a big one. Because if you don’t think this is a trend that will continue if not protested that it won’t spread out almost every convention (because if they can control controversy, you know they will because corporations will almost always fall into playing it safe after being in existence long enough). I would of course encourage dealers to boycott (you didn’t make much money last year anyway and you’ll make less this year), fans to boycott, and if you agree with argument, maybe encourage the celebrities you were hoping to see to also cancel. It’s a small thing but so is the start of an avalanche. We need to keep the diversity of thought going. We need to not give into people telling us what to think, read, and enjoy. Because if it starts with what we find entertaining…it will work into what rules we are ruled by. Politics is downstream of culture. This has been true since a Sumerian king embellished tales of his ancestor Gilgamesh to help his own position. It is no less true now. Either we control culture and ensure diversity, or we will deal with all the problem of political conformity (oh wait, we already are).

*It has been renamed from the more traditional Phoenix Comicon because San Diego Comic-con has gone batshit crazy and decided to sue conventions for things that sound like them, as if they have even the slightest shred of intellectual ownership over the word comic or the all too common shortening of convention to con…but how stupid abuse of IP law is getting is a discussion for another time.

**I would really love to support police…but honestly you guys are making the gestapo comparisons just a little too easy. Be the adults in the room, like I pay you to be—grow the fuck up and stop acting worse than the criminals you’re supposed to protect me from. And you good cops out there, your silence in the face of your vile colleagues is not loyalty, it’s to betray to your sworn duty.

[serverthoughts]

EXPOSING MY JOB + THE NAME OF THE COMPANY

What am I doing right now you may probably not think, but I'm going to tell you anyway? Well, I'm writing this post in the past, it is currently January 7th, 2018 and I'm at work.

My last day was technically the 11th, but they only scheduled me up to the 10th. Which is why I'm posting today (Thursday), because I am a free woman.

I'm at work and I should doing my job, but atlas I am not - and today we will discuss all things why I've been MIA. But like, what's fuckin' new? I never post frequently anymore. Roast me please.

If you saw my post back in November, I got a new job that wasn't in a restaurant. I didn't really go too in depth what it was, because as you may have guessed, I signed a social media policy clause.

Did you guys know that I signed a paper saying that I had to wear make-up every shift? Yeah you can imagine how that went. I went two weeks doing full make-up and straightening my hair, before only filling in my brows, putting foundation, blush, highlighter, and mascara on for the remainder of the 7 weeks I've been here. I stopped doing my hair too.

Moral of the story, I wasn't trying to get fired, and if I talked about any details of my job, it would of been super obvious where I worked at.

Today, I can finally revealed where I've been employed at for the past 2 months, because there's no fucking way in hell I'm ever going to work there again. Even though when I put in my two weeks, my manager told me I could transfer to a different store where I'm moving.

Without further ado....I worked at European Wax Center as a receptionist, aka a GSA (guest service associate). Now I haven't decided if I'm going to talk shit- per say about my experience with this company. But let me tell you, it wasn't good at this particular location.

Let me get started with saying that I think EWC as a whole is a good company. I like their wax, I buy their product. And I'm almost certain I will go to a different location to keep getting waxed. But I may just buy my own wax pot and do it myself. DIY ESTHETICIAN.

Now there's many things I didn't like about the company. This could be because of our particular owners, but I hear that some locations aren't like how my location ran.

Sales is a majority of what my job title included, and I'll be honest.. I'm not a sales person. I know this might sound crazy considering I'm a former server, and you would think I would be a pro at upselling checks for a larger tip.

I have a different mentality. I feel that I'm there to take care of a guest. I'm there to take their order correctly, bring out their food, and tend to them while they are enjoying their meal. I don't care about getting guest surveys, or upselling for promotions. I'm your server, and I'm there to make sure you have a pleasant experience in my restaurant.

This might not be a good mentality, but it's mine. EWC does not think the same way. They push at us to sell packages, which are actually really good. The packages save you a bunch of money. But it was a bad day when I didn't sell any packages. They would get on the waxers for adding on services, and selling product.

The sales bothered me a bit, but not as big as our turnover rate. When I started there were five waxers working a Friday night. Now we're down to one waxer on Friday, and she's the manager. (Who is licensed to wax, by the way).

When I started there were eight waxers, and now there's four (not including the manager). When I started there were 2 other front desk girls, then we were 4, and now we're 2 again.

There are tons and tons and tons of appointments we need to reschedule since waxers have either gotten fired or quit. At least a hundred, or more. It's fucking insane to me.

This is my fault for working here, but I have extreme anxiety. To the point where I don't speak on the phone to anyone except for my family. I don't go out in public unless I'm working or going to school. I have to give myself a pep talk into running errands. I'm not the right person to reschedule hundreds of appointments when the waxer is gone.

Yes, I'm perfect for retail and food service. I know.

There have been so many times where I would come into work, and the waxer would call in sick and not call the center. I would have no idea they weren't coming in, and their clients would be waiting. Or I had 3 waxers recently who just stopped showing up when they had clients.

Now if the waxing is legit, then why is the turnover right so high, you may ask?

I'm thinking the managers. The managers have a way of talking to the staff, where they feel discouraged and don't want to represent the company any longer.

Our staff is less than 25 employees, so legally the company could pay us $0.50 less than minimum wage. At the time minimum wage was $10.50 in California, and we were making $10/hour.

The waxers would receive tips and commission on every service and for their guests buying the products. I didn't get tips and would only get $5 every wax pass I sold, which isn't shit. They have bonuses but they're hard to achieve unless people are constantly buying packages from you each shift, as a receptionist.

Y'all I worked in a restaurant for three years. I have never dealt with worst customers than the ones at European Wax Center. Just because you get your vagina waxed, doesn't mean you can be a bitch to me because I'm the one ringing you up for it.

Your pussy is hairless, congrats, don't be a bitch. I have no control over your waxer getting fired, training, or calling in sick. I'm just a girl, leave me alone.

All that being said, the job was pretty chill when I wasn't being pressured & threatened unemployment over sales, when I wasn't rescheduling everyone and their mom to get their butthole waxed, and when the staff wasn't late and actually showed up. Other than that, it's a chill job. I sit at a desk all day in the world's most uncomfortable chair.

No big deal. It's not like I'm sitting in it for 6-8+ hours or anything.

If EWC sees this, I'm sure most locations weren't like mine. No, I will not be commenting on anything further or reveal the location I worked at.

The reason I quit was because I was supposed to move away in a week or two for school. I decided not to go this semester so now I’m going to be unemployedthoughts until the end of February. But even though I’m not going to school, I’m leaving because of the extreme anxiety this job has caused me.

Things to keep in my mind if you go to EWC, the wax is cool, just don't get mad when we have to cancel your appointments. Please be flexible with who you see. I know most people don't like going to anyone new but it's a bitch when the girl you go to is fully booked 2 weeks in advance, and you want full legs, eyebrows, and a Brazilian.

Get the fuck out of here.

If you are not EWC and just have questions, feel free to ask me in a direct message or on a comment through here.

I know how biased I sounded this entire post, but I have friends that have interviews at European, and I’m not discouraging them from wanting to work there. Maybe they’ll have more success working there than I did.

This is the first time since I was three that I haven’t been in school or working. If I don’t post anymore blogs I am officially firing myself from being serverthoughts.

Love you all, I can't wait to enjoy my time away from EWC.

Xoxo,

serverthoughts.

I read this post back a few days ago and know there was spelling errors. When I went to spell check it today, I was distracted listening to a podcast. So ignore any spelling or grammar issues, or alert me of them and I’ll fix it! Thanks for doing my non-paying job for me!

[janegilmore]

New Post: https://janegilmore.com/extract-why-we-shouldnt-ask-why-she-doesnt-leave/

Extract: Why we shouldn't ask why she doesn't leave

This is an extract from my book Fixed It: Violence and the representation of women in the media, which you can buy from Readings, Booktopia, Amazon, Audible or the local bookstore of your choice (choose local if you can). 

This extract is from a section talking about the influence media has on how people think about men’s violence against women and the danger this can present to women who want to escape a violence partner.

Leaving a relationship that isn’t abusive is difficult, heartbreaking and exhausting. Imagine how much worse it can be when you’re also trying to unlearn years of grooming that taught you to have no faith in yourself and a lifetime of the world reinforcing to everyone around you that women are responsible for men’s violence, lie about men’s violence and should be the only ones to suffer the consequences of men’s violence. 

Chapter 8 – Victims, perpetrators and the people who support them 

It is dangerous for women who have experienced violence from men to live in communities where people might blame them for the violence someone else chose to enact against them. Crisis and support services need funding and government support to offer effective help to the hundreds of thousands of women who need it. They need to connect to police and courts, banks and welfare agencies, doctors and mental health workers, schools and work, housing and utility services, and they need to know those institutions will support them. An Australian woman told me her story of trying to escape her abusive husband and it’s a sadly typical example of the dangers and barriers women face when they try to leave violent men. 

Jenny* tried to leave her abusive husband, Andrew*, four times before she was finally able to escape. The first time she tried to leave was in the 1990s. Services for women in violent families were much more difficult to find, and she found her attempts blocked by basic logistical obstacles. Because she was still married, she quite simply could not get a lease, electricity supply, medical care, new schools for her kids or bank accounts in her own name without risking him finding her address. The organisations either required a co-signature from her then husband or would make her new address available to him. 

I was like a rat in a maze. Every time I ran down another alley I’d hit a wall. When we were married he’d always insisted on putting everything in his name – lease, bills, bank accounts, cars, insurance, everything. At first I didn’t realise that it mattered and later I was too scared of him to do anything about it. So the first time I tried to leave I had no rental record, no credit, no money of my own and whenever I tried to get anything they’d either want to check with him to verify my identity or they’d want to put things in both our names. Schools wouldn’t take the kids without both of us filling in the forms, even though I had police reports and had started divorce papers. Landlords wanted references and they’d tell me they ‘couldn’t promise’ that he wouldn’t find out about the application. If I told them I was in danger from him I wouldn’t get a lease. I could see it on their faces: I was ‘trouble’. If I didn’t tell them they’d ring him for a goddamn reference. It was unbelievable. I had a job but when I tried to buy a car they wouldn’t give me finance without his signature because we were still married. I paid the extra fee to get a silent phone number but one of the times we moved out he got our address from the electricity company. Another time it was through the husband of one of my friends. That bloke had always believed Andrew when he told people I was treating him badly and going to take the kids off him, so he felt sorry for him and said he was just trying to help him out. Every time I went back to Andrew it would all start again but he kept promising he wouldn’t hurt me again and he’d get so angry when I said no. It sounds crazy but I felt like I’d be safer if I moved back in with him and kept him happy than if I stayed where I was when he was so furious and could turn up any time he liked. 

Over time, as services for women fleeing violence slowly improved, Jenny was finally able to escape. With the help of police, intervention orders and one of the very few domestic violence support services avail- able at the time, she got a lease and moved to a new home with her children. Both Jenny and the police believed she had done everything she needed to do to make sure Andrew couldn’t find her new address. They were wrong. Police are still not sure exactly how he found out where she was living. He won’t say but Jenny thinks it’s possible he simply followed her home from work. 

He tried it lots of times. I’d see his car across the street or catch it in my rear-view mirror. Every time I saw him, I’d drive straight to the police station. Sometimes they’d be great; sometimes they’d carry on like I was just a pain in the arse. It all depended on who was on the counter when I got there. Maybe he borrowed someone else’s car one night ‘cause I was always really careful. I never ever stopped watching for him. 

Despite multiple breaches of intervention orders, like waiting out- side her work and following her home, ringing her and threatening to kill her, telling their children she was a manipulative bitch who didn’t really love them, that she was just doing things for them to make him look bad, and stalking her when she went out with friends, Andrew was never imprisoned. He had multiple court appearances that ended in fines, intervention orders, good behaviour bonds, suspended sentences and stern warnings. This went on for nearly a year until one night he came to Jenny’s home with a knife, kicked in her door and tried to kill her. One of her children, then only twelve years old, was quick enough to hide under furniture with a phone, call the police and stay on the phone so they could hear Jenny scream as she was being cut. Jenny had deliberately chosen a house close to a police station, a decision that probably saved her life that night because two carloads of police arrived in time to stop him before he killed her. Jenny was hospitalised with multiple stab wounds and Andrew was charged, convicted and imprisoned for attempted murder. The child who hid in the house that night, listening to his mother being stabbed, remains deeply traumatised. 

Andrew is due for release soon, so Jenny has changed jobs and left everyone at her old workplace with a detailed description of him and how to respond if he turns up. She calls it her ‘death-cheat-sheet’. It’s a document she’s assembled with photos of him and all the history, convictions and current court orders, as well as police contact details for anyone who hears from him. She’s handed the death-cheat-sheet to all the people he might contact if he tries to find her or her children again. So far this has included: her children’s schools and workplaces, parents of children’s schoolfriends, her eldest child’s partner, their parents and sib- lings, local police, family violence services, banks, utilities, her landlord, the bond agency, doctors, sporting clubs, social media, friends, family and extended networks, dentists, road toll organisations, Centrelink, eBay, the electoral roll, the tax office, superannuation accounts, lawyers, loyalty card companies, the car registration organisation, the local council and the local vet. She’s not sure if she’s covered every option and she knows there is a huge number of people who all have to be constantly vigilant about his manipulations and detailed knowledge of her life and habits. 

If any one person at any of those places slips up, even once, and he is able to find her, she firmly believes he will kill her. 

It’s a lot better these days but you still get people, you know, rolling their eyes and thinking I’m making a big drama of it all. Or they think I’m just being a bitch and not letting him see his kids. That’s why I did the death-cheat-sheet. Seeing the attempted murder conviction in black and white makes a difference, even to the blokes who feel a bit sorry for him because they think, ‘Oh, poor bugger, he just wants to see his kids.’ The big organisations, they all have those privacy regulations, but he knows my date of birth and all kinds of other details and he has the marriage certificate. Most people aren’t going to check whether a husband has tried to kill his wife if he pretends he’s just trying to pay her phone bill or something like that. He’s smart – that’s what scares me. 

It should be unlikely he’d be able to fool any of the large organisations now: they almost all have accounts for people like Jenny flagged to prevent exactly the situation that scares her. But she is one persuasive conversation, one person who believes women lie about domestic violence, one sympathetic interaction away from someone giving her address to the man who abused her, stalked her and eventually tried to kill her. He’s got a four out of ten chance of finding her, according to the National Community Attitudes Survey. Damn right she should be scared. 

* Jenny and Andrew’s names and some identifying details have been changed to protect her life and the lives of her children. 

—

If you want to read more, you can buy Fixed It: Violence and the representation of women in the media from Readings, Booktopia, Amazon, Audible or the local bookstore of your choice (choose local if you can). 

##FixedIt

[fitnesshealthyoga-blog]

New Post has been published on https://fitnesshealthyoga.com/jessamyn-stanley-is-taking-her-new-yoga-app-the-underbelly-on-the-road/

Jessamyn Stanley is Taking Her New Yoga App, the Underbelly, On the Road

Christopher Dougherty

Yoga Journal: What’s been going on since the app launched on April 4th?Jessamyn Stanley: It’s been a wild two weeks! I can’t believe it. We have more subscribers right now than I expected us to have in the first six months to a year. I think its greatest asset is that it’s something created by the person who needs it. I very much understand the experience of wanting to practice in studios but not feeling comfortable.

YJ: Is that why you decided to launch a home-practice app for your classes? JS: I’d been thinking about doing my own classes online for a long time. I wasn’t able to get the ball moving on it until February/May of 2018, and it’s taken about a year to build all the digital infrastructure and branding. When I first decided to go for it, I was for sure like, “OK, it’ll be ready in two months.” But I quickly realized no, this is basically like starting a new business, so it’s going to take a minute. It was definitely a haul. I decided it would be best to do an app and a web portal because those are the methods everyone uses to take online classes now—but I didn’t realize that makes me a tech entrepreneur, that puts me in a whole other universe reading Wired and going to tech mixers.

Thanks for watching!Visit Website

Thanks for watching!Visit Website

Thanks for watching!Visit Website

YJ: You previously taught classes on Cody App, which became Alo Moves. How is this different? JS: The thing that I’ve really noticed about a lot of yoga teachers who teach online is that they do not feel empowered to create their own software or streaming spaces because there are a few big companies corralling yoga teachers like horses in a stable. They trot their horses out to do whatever. It impacts the ideology because it’s not about spreading the practice of yoga, it’s about getting the $39.99 or whatever it costs. If you’re a minority in a situation like me—all these white-owned companies are like, “Shit! Diversity is a buzzword! We need some people who’re black!” They were courting me really hard because there was no one else who looked remotely like me, and all they cared about was if I was going to wear the clothing and record on schedule and how much money would it take to make it happen? They didn’t care about my teaching. So I’m good to make my own [online] studio. I hope this empowers other teachers who don’t feel empowered to do their own studio. The brick-and-mortar yoga studio isn’t the best option to reach people all over the world, and very niche teachers would benefit from this kind of empowerment. Go your own way, not just for yourself, but for everyone who follows.

See also  Jessamyn Stanley on Moving Beyond Body Positivity

YJ: What do you think is the major thing missing from traditional yoga spaces? JS: A teacher who talks about their body not as though they hate it; someone who is cool with themselves and their body’s functions; a teacher who uses profanity and farts and understands what it’s like to be pissed off. I don’t know how to say things diplomatically, but a yoga site that’s not run by white men who don’t teach yoga or even care about it.

YJ: We could all use a little less white men running the show. JS: For real! In the past two weeks, I’ve been overwhelmed by people telling me how I’ve profoundly impacted their lives—and the depth of their comments—it’s like the most intense of my teaching career. More than when my book came out. There are so many different apps and classes and websites for people to choose from, and people are like, “I just wanted to see a fat person doing this who isn’t pretending they’re not fat.”

YJ: What’s the greatest thing about practicing yoga at home? JS: I think that it’s really important to have a connection to your own practice that’s not inhibited by the opinions of other people. Sometimes, when we only practice in group settings, we lose that connection to ourselves and get into a cycle of needing other people. The studio culture intentionally exacerbates that. Doing yoga in a home setting, you’re able to be more comfortable and free and open with yourself than you are in a studio. I experience this to this day. I act differently in a studio. I’m so distracted by the other people in the room and not wanting to impede someone else’s experience—yet yoga is the last place you should be thinking about that.

YJ: What about the idea that we need a teacher in the room to ensure proper alignment and safe practice? JS: I don’t underestimate the value of having a teacher in the room paying attention, someone who can give physical- and spiritual-alignment tips, but sometimes we overstate the importance of having a teacher physically there. I’ve had teachers who have profoundly impacted me—Amy Ippoliti, Elena Brower, Jason Crandell—not from physically sharing space with them, but from the way they explain clearly and make space. Studios give the impression you’ve got to do it here and move in time with everyone in the room. It’s basically a dance troupe, so come prepared.

When I started my home practice, I thought, Is it safe for me to do this at home? How will I know I’m doing it right? That was a big catalyst for me to post on Instagram, to solicit feedback and track my progress. One of the new features on the Underbelly app is that you’ll be able to post on the app and on social to see the shifts in your body and make adjustments. You can be your own teacher, look at yourself, take photos and videos to compare to books, etc. There are endless resources online.

See also Jessamyn Stanley Gets Real About Motivation + Fear with Beginners

YJ: So what’s next? How do you continue to reach more and more people who so clearly crave your message? JS: Well, the app will evolve with all kinds of new features coming like new classes and merch. But I’m most stoked about the Underbelly Experience Tour. It’s going to take the experience of going to one of my classes to a whole new level. Think of it like a yoga retreat in a day, and we’re taking it to different cities around the world. In each city there will be a practice with me, bookended by time to do group collective practices and different types of wellness activities: a juice bar, someone doing body work, acupuncture, kick it with friends. It will be a conversation with me and everyone who comes. A chance to come together as a community and talk about how our practices are affecting the world around us. People can journal on the app and then we can take those conversations were having in our yoga community and bring them together in one place.

YJ: When will it kick off? How many cities are you looking to hit? JS: That’s TBD. We’ll start in New York and LA and go from there.

YJ: What do you say to the headlines claiming that with the Underbelly, you’re democratizing fitness? JS: That is the most click-batey shit I have ever heard! Somebody was like, “Bitch, let’s make somebody click on this.” No shade on the game, but I wouldn’t categorize it that way. It kind of does, though, honestly. If I opened a physical studio, you’d only be able to come if you lived here or traveled here. Apps, websites, and social media are making an egalitarian space where everyone’s free to say what they want. If you can build it, anyone in the world can find it. That’s powerful for building a message. What yoga can offer is so minimized by what the media is willing to show because of the gentrification of yoga. Lots of people shade yoga because they think it’s for white women. We need to be clear that it’s for everyone. So in that respect, it is democratising, but at the same time, that is some click-batey shit I would not have said. 

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[thegirlsinthefirehouse]

Descendants, Chapter 12

-----

“So everything is good?” said Erin to Holtzmann on the couch upstairs. 

David had gone out of town for a meeting and Erin hadn’t wanted to be at home by herself, so she was spending the night at the firehouse after dinner. Patty had decided to stay too and they were all sitting around talking about the day’s comings and goings, though most of the talk was about their appointment and not about the two calls they had taken that day.

“Baby and Momma are fine,” said Holtz. “The nurse nearly freaked though when Abby mentioned that we worked around nuclear materials. I had to reassure her that everything was fine and up to suitable standards, but you should have seen the disapproving looks on their faces. And the doctor warned Abby just like we did to avoid physical trauma.”

“She is not liking that at all,” said Erin, grimacing. “I can’t say that I blame her. She basically handicapped herself from doing our work.”

“Just limiting for a short amount of time,” said Holtzmann. “And not too loud, please Erin.”

Erin smirked. “This still must be an issue she’s holding onto.”

“I think it’s gotten better,” said Holtz. “Being as there’s actual viability and not just making her queasy.”

“I’m sure,” said Erin, trying not to grin.

“You should have heard the one doing the blood work for Abs when she said we worked with the paranormal. He asked if we had seen Elvis lately. I took all the strength I had to hold Abby still to keep her from saying anything. I don’t think I can stand there through her thirty-minute speech again about how ghosts and other paranormal activity are hazardous to the general public.”

“Like Elvis would be hanging around New York,” said Erin, rolling her eyes. “But yes, ghosts and curses and everything else dangerous under the sun, that’s us.”

“Imagine if we could actually raise the dead,” smirked Holtz.

Erin shook her head. “I still can’t believe that Kevin took that call.”

“It’s Kevin,” said Holtz. “He probably thinks we could raise the dead.”

“Well, there was some old texts found in one of the pyramids that theoretically could have roused someone from the spirit realm,” said Patty as she sat down in a chair across from them, sitting down the beers and sodas on the table in between. “Not that I’m suggesting you delve into bringing someone back from there. We already did that once and that was nearly disastrous.”

“Aaaaannnnd pizzas are done, courtesy of Cheyenne,” said Abby, coming to the couch with two pizza pans, her hands swathed in large welder’s gloves. They had heated up two homemade pizzas from Patty’s wife, who was not only a baker but a great cook. She often cooked meals for them when they were working late just so they weren't always eating takeout. The big freezer they had invested in for the group for when they all lived together there in the firehouse had recently been filled up again for that purpose.

“You should be glad you married her first,” said Erin to Patty jokingly, moaning after taking a bite of the steak and cheese pizza. “She might have been taken by me.”

“Sorry Erin, but she doesn’t do skinny little bitches,” grinned Patty as she teased Erin. “I’m sure she’ll enjoy the compliment though.”

“She needs to marry all of us,” said Holtzmann. “This way we can all claim her for a romantic home cooked meal one on one.” Patty snorted at that, shaking her head.

“You all are going to fluff up her ego a little too much again, you know that right? I still have to live with her.”

“I don’t care, this pizza is delicious,” said Erin. “Did she use a couple of different mushrooms on this one?”

“Portabella and porcini, I think.”

“The caramelized onions are the best,” Holtzmann said. “Abby?”

But Abby was not paying any attention to the conversation around her, but instead was staring off into space.

“Lost her to thought again,” said Patty.

“Just tired,” broke in Abby, smiling at that. “And yes, the pizza is insanely delicious.” She took a bite of the chopped steak and popped it into her mouth.

“So...” began Erin. “I’ve spoken with our final list. Everyone is ready to go if they’re called for the job.”

“Excellent,” said Holtzmann, leaning back on the couch and lazily crossing her legs. “I can’t wait to have another engineer under the roof.” Patty shook her head.

“Oh lord, I hope she’s not a prankster like Abby and Holtzy.”

“We’ll have to make up some company policies,” said Erin, smirking at her best friend, remembering cherry bombs they had planted in high school. She looked at the group.

“Did you ever think we’d need more of us?”

“New York is a big place, and we’ve been expanding our coverage a lot,” said Abby. “You know, we could start opening up some more franchises in the near future, bring in some more money.”

“But would you really want Ghostbusters Milwaukee?” said Holtzmann, gesturing with her pizza.

“It’d start looking like bad NCIS spinoffs, sure,” said Erin. “New York isn’t the only place with ghosts.”

“And the paranormal,” said added Patty. “It’s all over the place, baby. And we’re finally getting to a point that people are realizing that the supernatural can exist along with the science.”

“It didn’t help when people saw real ghosts on TV and social media for the first time during the whole Rowan incident,” said Erin. “Evidence was right there in front of their faces live.”

“So Angie, Beth, Jen, and Diana?” asked Abby. Erin nodded.

“The others are willing to work if someone drops out.”

“So you are choosing Diana?” said Patty, perking up.

“I know we second guessed it at first,” said Erin. “But she and Angie actually went out and had coffee after their second interview. They hit it off really well and we did some thinking. If they’re going to be a team, chemistry is a must.”

“You mean Diana was hitting on Angie,” grinned Holtz, ribbing Erin. “I saw that look before they left.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone was getting flirted with in this place,” said Patty. “You hit on everything Holtz.”

“Which is why I can point out a shameless flirt when I see one.”

Patty shook her head. “Two of Holtz. That’s a damn scary prospect.”

“We’re immune to Holtz’s charms now so I think we can handle it,” said Erin. “Well, except for Abby. That might be a problem.”

“No!” said Holtz. “She can’t have her.” She attached herself to her wife. Abby was holding her pizza away from Holtzmann, trying to keep her from sneaking a bite off her slice.

“I don’t think you have to worry,” smiled Erin at the scene. “Your wife is very loyal.”

“Mostly because she’s exhausted from growing that baby,” said Patty, chuckling lightly.

“Just imagine if you let the two of them go alone on the same call,” smirked Abby. Holtz looked amused at that, her eyes widening slightly. She seemed to be relishing the idea as she stroked her chin.

“Oh no,” said Patty, shaking her head rapidly. “Sexual harassment suits. We’d be hit with them.”

“Well, we can pass those along to the city,” said Erin. She picked up another piece of pizza. “I say we nominate Cheyenne to be the first new member.”

“No. No,” said Patty holding up a finger in panic as Abby and Holtz both heartily agreed to the idea.

“Here’s to Cheyenne, newest member and personal chef to the Ghostbusters,” cheered Holtz, holding up her pizza in salute. She put an arm around Abby, who laid her head on Holtz’s shoulder with a chuckle at Patty’s horrified face.

-----

Another month had passed and Abby was now at 16 weeks. Although Abby’s wardrobe left room for her to grow, her skinny jeans were no longer an option, much to Holtz’s chagrin. She loved how the fabric just clung to Abby’s thighs and calves in all the right ways. But at four months, the baby’s ears were fully developed, which meant their child could hear them, which was a definite plus. Holtz had been taking that to her advantage and playing as much 80’s and 90’s pop as she could get in without Patty and Erin groaning at her.

Abby was taking it in stride. She wasn’t as exhausted as she had been in her first trimester, and was happy to have energy back. Plus now that the baby was showing a little more, it was very encouraging to the both of them. Also, the risk of miscarriage was much lower, so she didn’t feel so confined to simpler tasks out of fear. She finally let herself go on an easy call and hated to admit she had enjoyed the fawning over the client had done after hearing she was pregnant. The bad thing was that she was going to have to get some adjustments made to her work uniform already. Her jumpsuit was a lot more snug. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone of course, but the worry on her lover’s face during the whole outing had delighted her a little bit. There was just something about Holtzmann wanting to take care of her and coddle her that she loved more than anything.

Which was why, standing there outside of her parents home in Battle Creek, Michigan Abby really, really hoped Holtz had a plan to see that she actually made it through this without losing it.

She took one look back at Holtz, who was looking pensive at the ceiling of the porch. The leaves were swirling around in the wind. It had been a blustery day and the fall air was clear, cool, and crisp. Someone was burning in the distance, adding a smoky feel to everything.

“I never thought I’d be coming back home to have this moment,” said Abby. “I could still kick Erin. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“But It won’t solve the problem at present,” said Holtz, looking over her glasses. “Which is that you still haven’t knocked on the door.”

“I’m facing my teenage nightmares,” said Abby with a sigh. Holtzmann looked at her questioningly.

“I’ll explain later.” She knocked on the door lightly.

“Abigail,” said a voice from behind them. They both turned around and saw Abby’s dad coming towards them. He was walking across the yard and chuckling, leaves crunching beneath his feet.

“You two need better hearing,” he said in a tease. “I could have snuck up behind you and shanked you both.”

“Dad,” said Abby, coming down the steps and greeting him. He hugged her tightly. He gestured for Holtz to join the hug. She grinned and he wrapped his arms around the both of them.

“Good to have you home,” he said with a smile. “You too Holtzmann.” She smiled happily at him. “Your mom’s inside,” said Abby’s dad to his daughter. “She can’t wait to see you two.”

“I’m sure,” said Abby. “Austin coming?”

“Your brother’s at work until late this evening,” said Mr. Yates. “So four months huh?”

“Daaaad... you made Mom tell you,” huffed Abby loudly. Her father chuckled and kissed her cheek.

“We can’t wait to meet our grand baby.”

“Neither can we,” said Holtzmann. “Already have a baby tool-belt for them.”

“I can’t wait to see that. Let’s go on in,” said Mr. Yates. He ran a hand through his still thick hair, though it had already gone salt and pepper. He opened the door and Abby started in first with Holtzmann following her in. Mr. Yates closed the door behind them. He took their jackets and was surprised when his daughter was wearing a fitted v-neck purple tunic under an open black cardigan. The fact that it all framed her protruding baby bump wasn’t lost on him.

“No plaid?” he teased. He always loved ribbing her about when she borrow his plaid shirts for warmth when she would go out “hunting” in the woods. Over the years, he had noticed that they had become a part of her regular wardrobe.

“Doug?” said a voice coming from upstairs. Abby’s mom appeared on the landing.

“Look who I found sweetheart,” said Doug Yates. “Just appeared at the front door.”

“Mom,” said Abby. The dark and silver-haired woman came quickly down the stairs. Every time Holtzmann saw her, it was startling how much she and Abby favored each other. “Abigail,” she said. “Oh honey, look at you.” She took Abby by both of her hands and before giving her a hug. Holtz was grinning over her shoulder at Abby, who was doing her best to hold in her sarcasm.

“There’s nothing really to see,” said Abby. “I’m only four months.”

“Four months?” she said, gasping. “Has it been that long?” She put a hand over the spot poking out on Abby’s torso. “Doug, the baby is growing like a weed.”

“Well, he or she is half Yates, so I’d hope so,” he chuckled, hanging coats on the coat rack.

“You really must tell us all about it,” said Mrs. Yates. “Everything.” She leveled a gaze at Holtzmann. “Jillian.” Holtz was used to Abby’s mother, so everything this woman did amused and delighted her. She nodded a greeting.

“Not much to tell,” said Holtzmann with a shrug. “Abby was really nauseous for a couple of months, still is really.”

“A good sign,” said the older woman. “I was very sick with both Abigail and Austin.”

“Was she ever,” said Doug. “We had multiple trash cans around the house, Holtzmann.” He gestured for everyone to come sit down in the living room. They followed him in and the group sat down on the soft dark blue couches with white trim. This room was his place, as it had a nautical theme. He had been a sailor for commercial ships and had been in the Navy. “I was beginning to wonder if she was going to eat anything at all.”

“Sounds familiar,” said Holtz. She wouldn’t even look at Abby. The blonde could just feel the glare boring into the side of her head. “Abby’s on a Sprite and cracker regiment in the mornings.”

“No ginger or peppermint tea?” frowned her mom. Abby made a face at that, shaking her head.

“Ginger ended up making me sick about three weeks after I found out I was pregnant. Haven’t tried it again.”

“Felt any movement?” asked Abby’s dad. She shook her head.

“Still a little early.”

“Have you decided on names yet?” asked Abby’s mom. “It’s never too early for that.”

Holtzmann and Abby both looked at each other. They really hadn’t given much thought together. They were still mostly in reactive mode to the pregnancy.

“Cynthia would be a lovely name,” said Doug. Holtz almost laughed, but knew that she’d better not. Patty would kick the both of them since that was also her sister’s name as well as Abby’s mom’s name. Patty and her sister had different values and aside from familial things, did not talk much, if at all.

“So Mom, how’s work?” asked Abby, trying to change the subject. He mother had retired from her job as a biochemist in the cereal industry and started teaching chemistry at a local college.

“Good,” said Cynthia Yates. “The kids are getting dumber and smarter each semester. It’s astounding and idiotic at the same time.”

“She’s been complaining since Week 1,” said Doug.

“She always does,” said Abby with a smile. Some things never changed. She let herself relax a little as she felt Holtz’s arm go around her lower back. Her mother was going on about the stupidity of a particular student and their inability to use a dictionary or spell check. <– Prev | Next –>