#fuck my manager in particular

[beanie-babie-vents]

So I haven't posted on here in a good while, though I did post on vent.

I've had some shitty stuff happen recently, so lemme talk about it :

So around two weeks ago, I had finished work only to find out my twin sis had gone to a mental hospital. I knew she'd been really depressed lately, but I didn't know just how bad it had gotten. When I got to visit her the first time, she told me that she had broken down because of something that happened with our older sister. She didn't say what happened, but that she'd show me the recording she took when she's out of the hospital (she doesn't have her phone currently).

So I'd been dealing with that all week, along with having school start, and my bf telling me that hearing me vent about my awful family all the time made him feel like a shitty boyfriend cause he felt like he wasn't doing anything to help.

With all that already happening, I was getting really overwhelmed at work on Thursday (which happened cause of a thing which I'll explain in a bit) and was on the verge of a panic attack.

My manager came over to see if I needed any more product or whatever, and I told her that I was starting to freak out. She said that I couldn't keep having this happen, I just had to push through it, and that I was using 'this' (I guess she was referring to my anxiety or whatever) as a crutch. Fucking ridiculous that she says that the same day I actually use my cane while I'm there....

In any case, I was already crying by then, though just silent tears, and she simply told me to hand out samples despite that. Was all "pick up the cups, put them on the tray, put the food on, hand it out. Deep breaths, just push through, tell yourself to blah blah I don't remember what she said'.

She left, and I'm still crying, then at some point my coworker comes over to give me my break, sees that I'm crying, asks what's wrong, and that immediately gets me crying harder. I go on break after she hugs me, continue to have a panic attack in the bathroom and call my friend, then attempt to go back to work, still crying.

My one coworker comes up to try a sample, sees that I'm crying, and I start sobbing again cause he asked if I was okay. He's hugging me, and my manager comes over saying that I can't do this here, and that customers went and complained to the store managers about me crying, and then got on her case about it. So she said that I can either go home or cry in the office, then brought me to the office.

Now, as for what caused my panic attack in the first place before my manager made things worse?

I was already overwhelmed bc the company has stupid rules about not leaving our stations for any reason, including needing to use the bathroom - and if we have medical issues surrounding that, then we need a doctor's note so we can be given an extra break to let us go to the bathroom.

And yes, my manager has told me about this before, but it literally makes no sense??

Like, for a number of people with bowel or bladder related issues, you may get the sudden urge to go. Or the urge can just get stronger out of nowhere. Both of these have happened to me in the past, and has been happening more and more recently.

So my manager had asked me why I shut down my station when I had come back from break a little while before, then was basically scolding me, saying that i should've gone during break.

That's the thing though, I DID.

My body just decided that day was a GREAT day to not work properly. In numerous ways.

So yeah, if it's not obvious, having an extra break set up to go to the bathroom doesn't help, because there's always a chance that I wouldn't be able to actually hold it long enough. Because chronic illnesses are SO FUCKIN DUMB.

And my manager saying that breaks are apparently there for us to use the bathroom so that we don't go during our shift. Yeah no, it's not cause we may need to rest and eat, no, not at all.

Following all of that, a few days later I was scheduled to work again. I was gonna try to go despite how awful I felt. I knew that it'd be bad to call out, as I was supposed to be taking over my coworkers stations during their breaks that day, and it could be hard to have someone cover that shift for me - especially if there were multiple shifts going on that day, which was likely.

But the closer it got to my shift start time, the more anxious I got, and I knew that if I went to work that day, I'd just have another panic attack.

By the time my shift had started, I had yet to get ready, and knew I'd have to call/text out. I texted my manager that I wouldn't be there and went to sleep.

I'm worried that I'll be fired now....

But god, what was I supposed to do?

I honestly still can't believe everything my manager said.

She'd always been so sweet, kind, and understanding before, so for her to act like this was honestly surreal, and caused me to bring down due to everything else on my plate.

The worst thing is, I saw her as a friend. She literally called me a friend of hers before. Only for all this to happen?! Just. What the hell....

[sistersofsilver]

I JUST wanna know who these two are, does anyone know? is it ever acknowledged???

[quietwingsinthesky]

see my brain just doesn’t register the idea of anyone having a ‘one true love’ which is why the common fandom tropes of making canonical love interests terrible in order to justify why your ship is better always bugs the shit out of me. it feels like the only reason you would do that is if the idea of the characters in your ship having any other sort of romantic relationship that was important to them, even in the past, is a threat to their current one, therefore all their past relationships need to be demonized in order to make them ‘not real love’ so that they remain pure and chaste and ready for the True Love of the endgame ship.

[vermillioncrown]

@rozaceous replied to your post “Later TPAC teasers bc i'm busy rn”:

FULL OSTRICH, lmao that he very abruptly recognizes that he's abt to receive The Talk and deploys Jason as a defensive weapon

​the talk from anyone bat-related is not going to be a Normal Talk. he doesn't want any one of these eidetic memory freaks knowing anything of his anything, which is where this talk was likely to head towards

(dick, trying to be the best brother-dad, also shameless, also raised on bat contingencies

"--and i'll send you the encrypted list of discreet shopping sites afterwards. let's move onto the next module on the psychology of kinks, and--"

korvin, "kill me. kill me now")

jason's happy to stir shit and get in people's way, there are no loyalties there

korvin just 🙈🙉 "lalalala not listening lalalalalalala" ostrich mode

[spacedace]

Here, have a snippet of the Jason & Steph sibling bonding portion of the DP x DC AU I wrote 10k words for since last night in a haze of post sickness/burnout creative burst, featuring some Anger Management because of course it does lol

(I call it a snippet but it’s like...3k words lol)

Trigger Warnings because most of this snippet focuses on them running around Crime Alley and shit that goes down in it: references to drugs, overdoses, domestic abuse, child endangerment (if I miss anything let me know and I’ll add it). Nothing expliciet or details but they are things mentioned as happening because, well, Crime Alley.

-

Spoiler shifts subtly from foot to foot on the rooftop, hands open and ready at her side as she split her attention from watching him and checking the street below for signs of trouble. Her gaze was sharp on the girls working the corner, tracking for any hint that the man talking them up was making any of them uncomfortable even as she made sure Jason didn’t suddenly dart across the ten feet between them to strike out at her.

“George Conrad.” He said, satisfied that his sudden breaking of the silence didn’t make her jump though did catch her attention fully, fingers twitching warningly towards her belt. He nodded his head down to the street and the large man rummaging through the bag he brought with him. More of the girls had huddled up around him. “Not a john. Not even from Gotham.” He explained, shifting to walk over to the edge of the roof, giving her his back as he did. “His son Kyle ran away from home while George was oversees and ended up working the streets. George tracked him down once he was back in the states a few years ago but by the time he made it here Kyle had been killed.”

She moved to join him at the ledge, still leaving space between them but not enough for his guns to be as effective. Smart, vigilant, but still with a soft enough heart to stop and listen to one of the many tragedies that played out in Gotham’s darkest streets.

“What happened?” She asked, eyes softening on the big man in question as he started handing out ziploc bags. Jason knew very well what they held, and wondered if Spoiler could make out the finer details from the distance they were at. Sandwiches, granola bars, water bottles, condoms, clean needles, wet-wipes, little travel sewing kits, over the counter pain meds. Anything and everything George had ever been told would be appreciated or useful by the sex workers he spoke to.

“Overdose.” Jason answered, grateful that the distorter built into his helmet disguised the tightness of his voice. Memories of a cold body on the floor, stiff and waxy with distant glassy eyes. “Got mixed up with the wrong person. Boyfriend. Not a big player but,” He shrugged and knew that Spoiler would understand. It was how a lot of people got mixed up in sex work when they wouldn’t have normally. Boyfriend that promised the world, the painful fall into being pressured to sleep with said boyfriend’s friend, then another, then another. “One of Daisy’s boys was a neighbor and figured out what was going on, Daisy helped get him out but it was too late by then.”

Below one of the girls, younger than the rest - an adult, because he wouldn’t allow anything else in his territory, but still new to the scene - surged forward to wrap her arms around the old man. George gave her a gentle pat on the back, pushing her back gentle to dig out a card from his pocket. A list of numbers for her to call, shelters and organizations that could help, his own number in case she ever needed anything. “They chipped in for a funeral for him. Gave George somewhere to go and mourn. He’s been here ever since, trying to look after them all. He works as a bouncer at Daisy’s these days but he always does the rounds when he isn’t working.”

“People never get this part.” Spoiler mused, voice going soft and distant. “They always think the Alley is just…” She waved a gloved hand, “Trash and monsters. They can’t seem to get that there’s more. Just…people. Some really good ones even.”

He smiled behind his mask. There was a reason she was the one of the whole Bat Clan he’d decided to trust with this.

“Come on.” He said, waving her after him as he began an easy run that’d let them both move easily from rooftop to rooftop. Spoiler hesitated a moment, but at length followed, quick and quiet as she darted from shadow to shadow in his wake.

They spent the following couple of hours meandering around Crime Alley at an easy clip. Squat roofs and rusted fire escapes, narrow streets and dark corners. Pausing to jump in and handle anything that popped up or at particular spots of interest where he’d point out places and people. The chop shop run by the ragged gang of teens and children some of the gangs had been angling towards that needed looking after. The homeless encampment nestled between the grimy apartment building Daisy O’Neil had taken over to run her business out of and the tiny, almost forgotten pauper’s cemetery. The usual roosting spots for the drug dealers, the gambling dens, the little family owned cafe that had the best Tantuni at midnight and even better Turkish coffee at the crack of dawn.

It was as they perched on top of this last one, tucked back in the shadows away from view as Spoiler devoured the freshly made Lokma that Mrs. Solak insisted on making fresh for them when they stopped by that the question finally came.

“So what exactly is all this?” Spoiler asked, popping another of the sugary, honey covered Lokma in her mouth. He’d shoved the container Mrs. Solak had given to him over to her after eating only a few, knowing she was going to try to steal them anyway if he didn’t. “When you said you needed my help with something in Crime Alley, I was expecting…I don’t know, drug runners or something.” She popped another golden dough ball in her mouth, cheeks round as a chipmunk and voice muffled as she said, “Not a tour of the place.”

Jason let his head fall back on the brick of the rooftop entrance behind them, eyes scanning the glittering horizon of the Gotham skyline, trying to sort out his answer. He had talked about how he was going to do this with Jazz, practicing what he was going to say, what he wanted to reveal, what outcomes he could expect from the whole thing. When he left he’d felt confident about it all, riding high on the warmth of Jazz’s kiss and the fluttering thumps of little legs kicking against his hand. Now that he was here though he felt lost as to how to begin.

“I’m hanging up the mask.” He finally said. It wasn’t quite like the first time he’d said it out loud, in the privacy of his apartment, curled in bed with Jazz, only brave enough to whisper it in the dark. There wasn’t that rush of anxiety and relief that had hit him at finally saying what had twisted over and over in his head for weeks leading up to that moment. Now there was just the settled feeling, the certainty, the surety of being on the path he wanted to be on. “I wanted to ask if you’d look after my territory me when I do.”

Spoiler gaped at him. “Wait, seriously?”

He almost laughed, he settled on giving her a lazy smile. “Seriously.”

With her masked pulled down so she could eat her treats he could see her wide eyed, disbelief on her face easily. “Why?”

He gave a shrug, aiming for nonchalant. “This used to be your territory for awhile, right? You’re from here, you know the Alley and the people and how it all works.” He felt his smile go softer, “I trust you to be able to keep it safe.”

Spoiler’s - Steph’s - expression softened at that. “That’s…thank you.” She glanced out the same way he had before, face caught in something bittersweet. “I…I hated this place growing up. I still do, kinda. I think everyone that lives here does. But I still missed it, it’s still…still home.”

“Yeah,” He agreed, mind turning over his childhood. The constant fear and hardship. Living rough even when he did have a roof over his head. His father’s heavy hands. His mother’s slow wasting. Crime Alley was a complete shit hole, one where the worst of the worst tended to gather. But it wasn’t all monsters. There were good people too, just trying to scrape by. Old George wandering the streets handing out necessities to working girls and boys. The Solak family and their little shop, giving out the left overs to the street kids and homeless. The Nightingales, crammed into their two bedroom apartment, just trying to get by. “I knew you’d get it.”

They sat in silence for awhile. Steph chewing over his request and her Lokma, Jason lost in memories of the past and wistful dreams of the future. At length the blond next to him bumped his shoulder with hers, head tilting at a questioning angle. “I…I really appreciate what you said, about why me.” She said, awkward and touched in equal measure. “But…I was actually wondering why you were stepping back.”

He was ready for that question, he was. He’d initially just wanted to leave it at none of your fucking business but Jazz had - wise as ever - pointed out that he was asking her a favor, and a big one at that. He might not be comfortable with the rest of his family knowing everything - or anything - but Steph at least deserved an explanation as to why he was asking her to take over his territory.

“You tell anyone this, and I will kill you.” He started and then cringed internally because that had not at any point been something that had come up in his practice conversations with Jazz. Oh well, any more ooie-gooey feelings talk and Steph probably would have thought he was replaced by a pod person or something. “I’m seeing someone.”

The faintly alarmed look the blond vigilante beside him had melted away in an instant, replaced by a sly, mischievous grin. Hellion. One whiff of gossip and that’s all it took. “Ooooh, Big Bad Red Hood has a heart after all.” She crooned, ignoring her earlier reticence to get too close and leaning dramatically against his side. “Who is it huh? Anyone I know? Ooh, is it someone in the Outlaws?”

He was reminded of before he died, suddenly. Of teasing Dick over his latest crush over a beautiful red head that could kick his ass like a proper annoying little brother. In an echo of that moment so many years ago, he shoved Spoiler off in the same way Dick had done to him, rolling his eyes at her dramatic squawking as she nearly dropped her treat to disguise the small smile that wanted to curl at his lip. He swiped at the container lazily, a feint at stealing it back that resulted in a brief scuffle that ended with him popped a few of the Lokma in his mouth as she tore the container - that he had given to her in the first place - away, holding it close to her chest like a precious treasure.

“No, no one you know.” He answered at last they finally settled down. He paused for a beat, gaze turning back to the city as he added. “She’s a civilian.”

Spoiler looked considering at that, chewing at one of the last of the Lokma thoughtfully. “So what’s going on then? You do a face reveal and she asked you to quit the vigilante business?”

“No.” He said, taking a small, steadying breath. Better to just rip off the bandaid. “She’s pregnant.”

Spoiler went still beside him, laughing eyes shuttering and face falling into a neutral mask as she stared at him. After a long, long moment she gave a small, unreadable little, “Oh.”

Jason fought the urge to fidget. Oh. It could mean so many things. Oh shit. Oh no. Oh how nice. Oh boy I can’t wait to tell Bruce about this. That last one, admittedly, was unlikely. Spoiler was on good terms with most of the Bats and Birds but she and Bruce had long had something of a rocky relationship. No where near as bad as what he and the old man had, but still enough that she was probably the very last person to willingly go hunt Bruce down to share all the details of Jason’s private life unless she thought it particularly necessary.

The silence stretched on. And Jason knows what silence does to a human brain. Four seconds of quiet during a conversation after saying something registers as rejection, caused feelings of anxiety and apprehension, even caused the same signals in the brain as physical pain. Prolonged silence and steady attention at the same time caused an urge to fill the quiet, to speak and keep speaking until the other person says something. It was something Bruce taught him, guiding him along in his Robin days on how to perform interrogation and get the person they were questioning to spill their guts.

He was taught too how to outlast that silence in situations where he was being questioned. Both by Bruce and by the League - though the interrogations that he was meant to resist under their teachings had far more than long awkward silences to contend with. He knew how to clamp down on that instinctive drive to keep talking when faced with stillness like this.

And yet, somehow he could stop himself.

“I just…I think about being a kid and my dad going to work,” He said the word with appropriate amount of vitrol, “And then never coming back. Him dying in jail and it just being me and my mom trying to scrape by. Or…or with Bruce. Knowing that I was always going to place second to the Rogues and the city. I just…” His head dropped back on the brick behind him, eyes closed and throat tight. “I can’t do that to my kid. I’m going to be there. I’m going to make sure they’re safe and happy and that they don’t ever have to worry about if their old man is coming home or not.”

It was a nightmare he’d been having, since the morning he and Jazz crowded over a couple of pregnancy tests and saw the results. Dying out in the gutter and shambling home as a ghost to see the grief he left behind. Jazz crying, a child who’s features he could never make out standing in the doorway the way he would stand at the entrance of the cave when he was too injured to go out with Batman. Waiting in painful silence and burning tears to find out that his father was dead.

“I’m not…I’m not cutting out of the life completely.” He said, trying to focus past the squeezing in his chest, trying to force the conversation back into a conversation rather than him just pouring his bleeding heart out to a blank wall. “I’m going to talk to Babs, see if she’d be alright with me helping with some of what she does, or get something similar setup solely for the Alley. I’m going to keep tabs with my guys on what’s going on and work with them that way. And if there’s anything big, obviously you guys can call me in, I’m not just going to sit back if there’s a city wide threat or worse, I just - “

There were arms around him, suddenly. Warm and strong as they wrapped around him, a face pressed into his shoulder, his nose tickled by blond hair.

He sat there, frozen for a long moment before slowly, lifting his own arms to return the hug. Steph gave him an encouraging squeeze. “I get it.” She said, voice whisper soft and almost lost as she spoke into the leather of his jacket. “I think…I think if I’d been older, if I was more able to keep her…I think I would have done the same thing.” There was a faint sniff as she finally pulled away. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were bright with tears. “I’m happy for you.” She moved to gently head butt him, “And I’m honored to take over watching over this shithole of ours.”

Jason gave a watery laugh, not even caring that he was crying as he scrubbed away some of the tears that had burned down his cheek. “Thanks Blondie. Steph.”

She rocked back on her heels, arms crossed as her expression turned suddenly serious. “I do have one condition though.” At his look the seriousness melted away into an exuberant grin. “I want to meet this mystery woman of yours. Wait!” She brightened, “Two conditions! I want to be there when you finally tell B and the rest! I am not missing the look on their faces when you tell them!”

He rolled his eyes and shoved her, sending her tumbling into the container of Lokma and sending the remaining fried dough balls rolling across the grungy roof. Steph squawked, dropping to her knees before the thoroughly ruined sweets as dramatic as if it was her one true love laying dead before her. “They were so young, so innocent!” She wailed, throwing her head back as if to howl at the sky in mourning before snapping back to him, finger pointing at him accusatory. “You! This is your fault! I will have my vengeance!”

The rest of the night was spent darting from rooftop to rooftop in an echo of the game of tag he used to play with Dick and Babs years ago. Tackling each other and fighting without actually aiming to do real damage. Only pausing to jump down to the street or through a window here and there to knock some heads together.

By the time he was heading to the Dead Man’s Hand so he could walk Jazz home - or whisk her off to his safehouse, if he was lucky and she was able to duck her siblings for the day - he felt lighter. Steph would look after the Alley, the people he protected. He’d work with her over the next few months, get her integrated with his lieutenants and make sure she was familiar with the ins and outs of his little slice of Gotham, make sure she was as ready as she could be to take over for him.

[ismyteadoneyet]

I've ranted a whole lot about the importance of physical media in the past. I love physical media. I have a CD and vinyl collection of stuff from my favorite bands, and am currently getting back into reading and found I vastly prefer physical books over both ebooks and audiobooks. I got the entire DVD box of ATLA last year just so that I can watch it whenever I like.

But it took me until today to realize that the reason why is because of how badly all these digital streaming service-platforms have affected me.

Like, I found art from a webcomic a while ago that I thought looked really interesting, but have been putting off reading the thing for MONTHS. I couldn't quite put my finger on why until I found out yesterday that there are printed, physical copies for sale of the entire webcomic itself in book format. And despite absolutely insane shipping costs, I could at some point buy it, and keep it.

And now I finally started reading it, and I'm loving it.

Turns out, I would rather put myself through sickening, nauseating FOMO than risk the piece of media getting taken off the platform it's available on in the middle of me reading/watching it.

What the fuck.

[butnotbubblegum]

using the tags to vent my current emotional state into the void bc ig story feels like a bad plan for this, read at your own risk.

[prolibytherium]

Companies using """"""""AI"""""""" chatbots in place of customer service (usually with a veneer of pretending you are actually speaking to a real person, which might not be so immediately obvious to more tech illiterate people) pisses me off so bad because they are just SO fundamentally useless. The only information it can tell you is information more efficiently communicated with a FAQ page, and information that is Wrong because current chatbot technology is, in fact, not even slightly 'intelligent' and pretty damn bad at giving accurate answers to anything but the simplest questions.

Like there's no point to it besides hoping onto the flashy artificial 'intelligence' gimmick and paying for less customer service work hours, and so many companies will not only have this feature but make their actual customer service prohibitively difficult to find (and usually involving a labyrinth of automated phone menu systems that you have to navigate correctly in order to get to a person). Makes me want to kill.

[sentientsky]

me: i don’t get attached to people cause that makes me vulnerable and it’s dangerous—i can’t risk getting too sentimental or affectionate

[cut to me carefully cutting out a png of the skeleton cat paw to send to my best friend who is currently asleep and unable to receive boops]

[divinekangaroo]

omg why did i have to suddenly remember that *cry laughing*

[wild-at-mind]

Had a really stupid conversation via minor emotional breakdown with a queer friend about what makes an LGBTQ person 'assimilist'. From what she said I'm kind of forced to draw the conclusion 'if you say you're not assimilist, then you're not'.

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Someone insisting we don't learn language intuitively unless homeschooled...Did...did your parents put in you in school at 18 months of age? Did a teacher go around a room of toddlers with a dictionary saying, "This is what 'mama' means"? Because if the answer to that is no--and it is definitely no--you learned language intuitively, like everyone else. The finer points you learn in school, and later on your own, but even as you're doing that, you're still picking up words and phrases just by talking to people and reading.

[optiwashere]

Needed to lay down and try to sleep for longer than an hour today, and in doing so I blearily looked at general fandom tags because I wanted to see silly fanart.

Instead I got hit full-force with reality of so much drama over the wildest little shit. I've been cursed with sight.

I have also never been happier to stay in my own bubble away from... all of that.

All that to say, I'm keeping this blog free of more stuff like this but holy fuck it hit me like a freight train. All this drama exhausts me and I don't know how anyone keeps up with it. I prefer to think of this place as the equivalent of a cabin in the woods, one where I emerge every few days with a few thousand words for people to devour with their eyes.

[arolesbianism]

Thinks abt my lob corp nuggets oh so hard. I may only have second hand half remembered knowledge of project moon worldbuilding but I will still forever obsess over my lil guys who suck absolute ass

[morgana-pendragon]

i simply have to classify the parent trap (1998) as a fantasy film bc treating it like an alternate universe with its own built in lore and customs is the only way i can excuse the sheer amount of plot holes/questions i have as a result of being raised in the 21st century

[intertexts]

i hate being sick i hate being sick i hate being sick!!!!!!!!!