#i am glad i have this one positive thing in a weekend full of bullshit

[waywardworldhopper]

So uh, I guess I don’t hate GW2 anymore? My condition to start playing again was that they make some move to undo the whitewashing of the setting that happened between games, and finally, 5 years later, we are getting Elona again! Complete with GORGEOUS new faces and hairstyles.

I have zero regrets about shelling out for gems to give my ele main Clara the face and hair she was always intended to have.

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

With Cherries On Top

Chapter 2: The Proposal & The Deal

Summary/Author's Notes: Oh.my.god. the response from part one was fucking WILD. I love you guys so so so much! As always, dedicated to @rae-gar-targaryen. She’s had a bad week, yall, go show her some love. <3 ITS WHAT MAX WOULD DO.

Max explains himself and gets down on one knee to ask the big question. Your trust is tested as he tries to pull a fast one, but he makes you an offer you cannot refuse.

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU) Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: Language, flirting, SEXUAL TENSION, Max Phillips is a bastard man, vampire themes

Chapters [1] [MASTERLIST]

Max finally caught up with you and convinced you to go with him to the immigration office. The entire cab ride across town you were seething. Neither of you spoke, and when the cab parked in front of the Federal Plaza building you got out. Glad to leave him to pay for the cab and top it off with slamming the car door in his face. You heard him growl his frustration but didn’t stop as you stormed into the building and he had to jog to keep up.

"Will you slow down?" He snarled and you ignored him.

How could he be this egregiously shameful? You knew Max was cunning. That he would do anything to make the sale, to close a deal, but this--this was a whole other level, even for him.

In hushed tones, in his office, as you threw your items in your purse, he had explained that he was being deported. That the government had caught him in a technicality of his after-life status versus his human one, and although you agreed it seemed to be a petty place to draw the line, his way of kicking you into the fire with him made you not want to help. Did he deserve to be sent back to Romania? Probably not. But forcing you into marriage? Or an even better term for it would be forcing you into fraud. The two of you were breaking the law and he didn’t even have the balls to ask you first.

The immigration office was jammed packed with multiple lines of people waiting for a free attendant and dozens of others waiting in chairs, looking over reading material and playing on their phones. This was going to take forever. Apparently, Max had other plans, as he grabbed your hand and pulled you both to the front of the line. No one stopped him, no one questioned him as you tried to make your face as apologetic as possible to the people already in line that were giving you dirty looks. He asked for the fiancee visa application and the next thing you knew the two of you were being led into a cramped office in the back and looking over the desk at a very stoic, older, government worker.

“Sorry about the wait, folks,” the older man said as he pulled out a file folder filled with papers. “Busy day.”

“Of course, of course,” Max nodded, crossing his ankle over his knee and giving the man his best smile. “We appreciate you meeting with us on such short notice.”

The older man looked Max up and down slowly and smirked--whatever Max was selling, he wasn’t buying and the realization made you want to lean over the chair and vomit on the floor. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay, so, I only have one question for you,” he continued to smirk as he closed your file and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Are you both committing fraud, in order to keep Mr. Phillips here from being deported back to Romania and losing his position as CFO at his company?”

“What!”

“Ridiculous!”

Max and you both scoffed at the same time and shook your heads as you waved your hands in front of you and he rolled his eyes, giving a good-hearted laugh.

“Mr.--” Max looked at the nameplate on the desk as he leaned forward and addressed the man. “Yates. That is an absurd assumption. We are just a couple that want to get married and I assure you, our case will be the easiest one you have all day. So, just tell us what we need to sign and we can get out of your hair.”

You wished more than anything you had the courage to grip Max’s leg and beg him to shut up. His normal bullshit was not going to get either of you any favors with this man and if he didn’t tread carefully, you both were about to be in a world of trouble. You knew you wouldn't last in jail, but Max really wouldn't last in jail. That mouth that never seemed to stop talking would get him stabbed...wait, maybe jail was a good idea after all.

"What makes you think we're lying, Mr. Yates?" You asked, crossing your ankles and moving your legs to the side comfortably.

"A tip that came in this afternoon from a concerned citizen--"

"His name wouldn't happen to be Evan, would it?" Max asked.

"As a matter of fact, it is."

"I knew it. He is nothing more than a very disgruntled employee who is out to get me." Max shook his head and waved it away as if that discredited the tip. "I fired him this morning."

The other man scribbled down a couple of notes and went back to pressing his fingertips together and leaning his elbows on the desk. He heaved a large sigh and suddenly looked very tired.

“Here’s what’s going to happen next, you two. I am going to schedule you an interview for next week. I am going to put you both in separate rooms. I am going to ask you a series of questions that real couples would know all of the answers to.” He said the term ‘real’ in a pointed way and looked directly at you, making your stomach fall to your feet. “And that’s the easy part--”

“Okay, seems fair.” Max started, but Mr. Yates ignored him.

“Then I am going to dig deeper. I’m going to check your phone records, your emails, talk to your friends and family--your coworkers. If anything, and I mean anything, seems out of order or does not match your story, you,” he pointed to Max. “Will be deported to Romania indefinitely. And you, young lady,” he turned and pointed to you. “Will be fined two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars with a minimum five year sentence in federal prison.”

You swallowed so hard it hurt as you felt your vision narrow, your body threatening you with the idea of passing out. You felt like you were sitting inside a vacuum, like a larger entity had sucked all of the air out of the already too small office space.

Prison. It wasn’t enough that you had been at his beck and call for the last five years. If this all went sideways, Max Phillips, in a last act of extreme selfishness was going to get you sent to prison.

“So, that being said, Ms. (y/l/n),” he smiled and crossed his arms as he addressed you. “Do you want to talk to me? Tell me what’s really going on here.”

“What’s really going on--” you started, your heart hammering in your ears so loudly that you were sure Mr. Yates could hear it.

You looked at Max and thoughtp about how you wanted to do this. Could you really throw him under the bus and let them ship him away from his home? Could you match his heartlessness and protect yourself above all else? No. Despite how much he deserved it, that wasn’t how you operated. He had insisted on dragging you into this mess and now it seemed, at least for the time being, you were going to have to play along. He looked at you with those soft, coffee colored eyes, so full of anticipation that you almost groaned. Instead you reached over the arm of his chair and patted his leg.

“What’s really going on is that Max and I are getting married,” you squeezed his knee and saw him give a full body sigh of relief out of the corner of your eye. “We just couldn’t tell anyone.”

“And why not?”

“Because he’s a vampire,” you shrugged. “And we were worried how my family would take it.”

“I see,” Mr. Yates leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms waiting for you to continue.

“And--” you, glanced at Max and back. “Because of the promotion.”

“Promotion?”

“Promotion?”

Both Max and the older man said at the same time and you steeled your resolve and continued.

“Yes, I am in line for a big promotion, and both of us felt if our relationship went public before that it would look unprofessional. Right, honey?” You looked at Max and although you were smiling, your eyes dared him to say otherwise.

“That’s...right, dear.” He nodded, putting his hand over yours on his knee.

Mr. Yates looked at the both of you for what felt like a very long time. You kept your smile even for so long, your cheeks started to ache. The hand you had on Max’s thigh offered a small amount of comfort and you allowed it to ground you, to center your mind as you did your best to look like the definition of truthfulness.

“Well,” he sighed and opened up a filing cabinet and pulled a very large binder full of papers for the two of you. “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. Here are the questions you could be asked, there are about three hundred of them--along with all of the forms that need to be filled out, references we will need, and copies of your identifications. As well as,” he paused and looked pointedly at the both of you. “The marriage certificate.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you leaned forward and took the binder from him.

“Have either one of you told your families about this, happy little arrangement?” he asked as he gestured between the two of you.

Max laughed and shook his head. “No, my parents are dead. Only child, too. It’s a real shame.”

Mr. Yates, chuckled dryly, not understanding how such information could be considered funny. “And what about you, Ms. (L/n)? Are all of your relatives dead as well?”

“Mine?” you put a hand to your chest. “No, no, they are alive--”

“We were actually going to tell them the news this weekend,” Max chimed in and you looked at him in surprise. “It’s grandma’s 85th birthday--we thought it would be a nice surprise.”

You stared at him like he had grown a second head. How did he know about your grandmother’s birthday? The idea that Max paid more attention to you than you thought was sitting uneasily in your stomach, but you continued to smile and nodded in agreement.

“We’re flying up to, (y/n)’s parents house.” Max took the binder as you handed it to him.

“And where is that?”

“Alaska.” You said simply, crossing your legs and adjusting the hem of your pencil skirt, reveling in the way Max’s entire face fell.

“Ah-ah-las-kah?" Max stuttered and glared at you. "Alaska." He cleared his throat and repeated.

You returned his intense look of malice with an overly satisfied smile. It felt good to ruffle those feathers, to catch him off guard and see him out of his element.

“Well, I wish you both a safe trip,” Mr. Yates stood up to show you the door and the both of you mirrored him. “I’ll call to schedule your visa interview after what I’m sure will be a lovely week.”

--

Leaving the federal office felt like you were walking in slow motion. You vaguely heard Max put his bluetooth on his ear and take a call, letting his boisterous voice echo in the too loud, too crowded lobby. Going out onto the street and feeling the cool air on your skin didn’t make breathing any easier as you thought about what just happened. In your trance you almost dropped the heavy glass door on Max’s face.

He hung up the call and started talking like everything was just a normal day back at the office, like the two of you hadn’t just been threatened with the American government absolutely ruining your lives.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said as he put his sunglasses on to protect him against the already very overcast autumn sky. “What’s going to happen is we are going to run up to your parent’s place, act like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend--we can stay in a hotel and that will make it easier to fake. Make sure you use the miles for the tickets--”

“Max…”

“I will pay to have you fly first class, but only, and I mean only if you use the miles. If I don’t get rewards, then we aren’t going.” He pulled his sleeve up slightly and looked at his watch. “Also, please confirm they offer vampire accommodations, because I swear if they put me next to some old hag like last time and I have to smell her O-positive, diabetic, dustiness for six hours--I’m. Going. To. Lose. It.”

“Max--”

He stopped as he realized he had walked quite a ways in front of you and he turned around. “Why aren’t you taking notes?”

Your jaw dropped and you stomped over to him and shoved the binder against his chest with enough force that he stumbled back a step. “I’m sorry! Were you not in that room with me just now? Were you not fucking listening??” You were almost screaming and he looked around quickly before stepping closer and towering over you.

“You look crazy, calm down--”

“Calm down? You have some neve, Max. Some. Fucking. Nerve.” With each word you poked your manicured finger into the middle of his chest, on top of his stupid, yellow tie. He grabbed your wrist to stop you but you yanked out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.”

“Listen,” he took a breath and spoke to you like the ticking time bomb that you were. “You did well back there. That thing about the promotion? That was genius. He really bought that.”

Evan’s words rang back through your head and you took a step back looking at Max. He's never going to promote you. You know that, right? Five years. For five years you had done everything for him. You had done the work of an executive level salesman and made a secretary's salary. And for what? To constantly be missing out on important things in your life? Friends. Family. Dating. You couldn't remember the last time you had actually been on a date with anyone. Everything seemed to revolve around the man in front of you--and you had reached your limit. All of this was asking too much of you.

When you finally spoke, your voice was flat and even. “I meant it. I want that promotion.”

“To what? Evan’s job?” He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m the one that is facing a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and jail time--that changes things. I want Evan’s old job and a thirty percent raise.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet as you held his gaze.

Max moved his bottom jaw from one side to the other, a tick you had often seen and come to realize meant he was mulling over his options. “Fifteen.”

“Forty.” You counter offered the wrong way and he gave a hard bark of laughter. “Okay, fine. I’m walking. You’re screwed. Goodbye, Max--have fun in Romania.”

No sooner did you turn around did Max lunge forward and grab you by the upper arm. “Okay! Okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

He looked at you pointedly and pulled you into the front of his body. His eyes shimmered for a brief moment and his lips turned upward into a small grin. “Unless--you’ll take something else? Plus, ten percent of course, I’m not a monster.”

You felt as if a small breeze was whispering against the nape of your neck, and you fought the urge to bat at it like a fly. The press of his voice worked its way into your ear and you could almost feel it trying to go deeper. When you realized what he was doing, you gasped and slapped him across the face. “Did you just try and hypnotize me??”

“Ah, shit!” he released your arm and put his hand to his cheek. “Did it not work?!”

“Go to hell, Max!” You turned once again and started walking down the sidewalk, ignoring the faces of the people that were nosily watching your heated exchange.

“Why the fuck didn’t it work--” he mumbled, continuing to rub his cheek and coming to his senses once he saw you putting more distance between the two of you. “Hey!” He jogged quickly and passed you easily in your high heels, turning around so he could look you in the eye. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Typical,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“I can’t do this without you,” he held his hands up defensively and gave you an almost pleading look. “I’ll give you the promotion, and the raise. If I’m not at that company, they will get rid of you like that,” he snapped his fingers and you clenched your jaw. “I don’t want to go back to Romania. I didn’t have such a good trip the last time.” He smiled way too large, an action more for the purpose of pulling back his lips so he could gesture to his fangs. “So, will you do this?”

"I have a few conditions."

"Name them."

"We do this my way, and on my terms. This is my family that we are lying to, so we will tell them when I want, and how I want."

"Done. Next?"

"How did you know it was my grandmother's birthday?"

"You think I can't hear every time your family calls and begs you to quit? Even without superhuman hearing--you sit right next to my office." He made a gesture of his hand pantomiming a small distance.

"Fine."

"Fine." You both said one right after the other in shared stubbornness and mutual disdain. "Anything else?"

You crossed your arms under your breasts slowly and straightened your shoulders. “Ask me nicely.”

“Ask you what? I just--”

“Ask me to marry you.”

Max paused and leaned back a bit, rubbing a hand down his face and chuckling like your request was unbelievable. “Uh. Fine. Fine.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Will you marry me?”

“Like you mean it,” you insisted. “On your knees.”

He gaped at you like a fish out of water. His large hand rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around embarrassed by the idea that any of the hundreds of people on the street could see what he was about to do. He looked at the ground to make sure there wasn't anything obviously sticky lurking on the pavement before slowly getting down on one knee.

"There. Happy?" He gestured to himself and you nodded.

"Oh, extremely."

He sighed and bit his tongue with what he really wanted to say as he looked up at you from his spot on the ground. "So, will you marry me?"

"I believe I said, ask me nicely. Sales. Is. Seduction. Right, Max?" You clenched your fists and brought them into your chest, mimicking his speech from earlier in a most obnoxious way. "Seduce me, then. Really sell it."

Max blew a heavy sigh in the form of a loud raspberry and cracked his neck. He shook out his arms in a dramatic display like he was getting ready to perform and finally looked up at you. His expression was genuine enough. His eyes were warm and his smile small, and he even took your hand and held it out in front of him lightly.

"Sweetheart--(y/n), beautiful, intelligent, decadent, sexy, vibrant--"

"Enough." You said with a frown. "Remember, I'm a person, not a dessert."

He continued as if you hadn't interrupted his string of praise. "Will you please, with cherries on top, marry me?"

You tapped your chin in mock contemplation and gave a single nod. "Okay. Yes. Although I don't appreciate the sarcasm." You let go of his hand and let it fall to his side as you adjusted your purse on your shoulder. "Get me a ring. If we break the news to my mother and there's no ring, she will go bezerk."

"Fair enough."

"See you at the airport, Max."

You walked passed him without another word, leaving the most powerful man you had ever met on his knees in the middle of the New York street.

--

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as always please let me know if you wish to be tagged or untagged!

[this-lioness]

Quaranmemes for Quarantines

Tagged by @reallyginnyf​ <3  Putting this under a cut since it’s pretty much doubling as my weekend wrap-up as well.

when was the last time you left your home? On Thursday I had to run a few quick no-contact errands -- dropped a bulk mailing off on the rear platform at the post office, deposited a Fedex envelope into one of their pickup boxes, and then ran some miscellaneous groceries over to my Mom’s house.  Today I went for a run, but only around the neighborhood, so that doesn’t feel like it counts. 

what was the last thing you bought? I’ve actually been doing a bit of online shopping lately -- bought a sewing machine (still need to sit down and set it up), a gas-powered pressure washer (arrived today), a new bathroom scale and a vacuum sealer.  Last thing we bought in-store were some small necessities from Walmart.

is quarantine driving you insane or are you finally relaxed? This is tough to answer, because I’m never actually relaxed.

I worry about someone in my immediate family getting sick, but beyond that the quarantine doesn’t really trouble me.  I’m largely a homebody, and honestly this has kept us from a lot of unnecessary spending, so all the places I’d probably be going would just be buying shit that we really don’t need. I think my anxiety only ramps up when we have to go somewhere, like when my parents need groceries, and we have to go through the whole process of masks and gloves and fully decontaminating everything once we get home.  We have it down to a science, but it’s still a whole process.

But I’m frankly enjoying the time at home.  I’m a very “routine” person -- I’m comforted by having lists of things I need to do, and places to put things, and then doing it all by rote.  We worked very hard to make our house be a place where we enjoy being, creating, relaxing and working, and now we’re reaping the benefit of all those things.

who are you spending quarantine with? My husband Marc and all the cats.  I only see my parents long enough to drop things off at their house.

do you have pets to keep you company? We have three of our own -- Bones, Spencer and Rosie -- plus two fosters, Baby and Blue.  There is also a semi-feral cat, Fidget, that we feed and care for, and he occasionally spends a night inside if it’s particularly cold or wet out.

what are your current responsibilities? We’re both very fortunate in that we are fully capable of working from home, and both our employers are in full gear.  Mine is actually busy enough to need to hire new people for the sudden influx of work, apparently. So I work my “day job” during the day, and when I’m not working I’m cleaning and doing laundry, trying to keep our chest freezer topped up with ready-to-prepare meals, a lot of organizing and a bit of gardening.  I really need to sit down and do something creative, although my muse has been completely dead for... longer than I’d care to admit.  I’m going to give it a bit of a try tonight, though, so we’ll see.

Just lately I’ve been on a purging spree.  Thursday, Friday and yesterday I cleaned out every corner of the art room / office and made three piles of craft supplies to give away.  I also gathered together two enormous bags of various clothes and gave that away as well.  My next step is probably to switch out my winter wardrobe for the summer stuff, although we’re expecting a good week of cold, rainy weather so... maybe not quite yet.

do you have a room to yourself? Well, if I ever needed time to myself I could certainly find it.  The art room / office is unoccupied when we’re not working, and when we are I can always come down to the living room or go into the bedroom with my laptop, or I’ve got a little “writing chair” in the dining room, by the back patio, that’s nice to sit in.  I can be content anywhere in the house, basically.

are you exercising? I wasn’t, but a few days ago I decided to change that.  I need to get better control over my physical well-being (and self-image), so I made myself a little weight / diet log, included columns for water intake and exercise, and signed up for a “virtual 5k”.  Today it was just warm enough to get outside, so I went for a run.  Technically we went for a run, but Marc got winded not too far into it and had to head home again.  I grabbed my earbuds and went back out.

Got in 2.27 miles before deciding to head back home.  Because the weather is going to be shitty I plan to kick the fosters out of their room for at least 45 minutes every day so that I can get some treadmill time in.  With any luck we’ll shortly have space cleared in the attic so that we can do yoga and maybe barre as well.  

town, country, city? We’re in a semi-rural suburb in Bucks County, PA.  It’s... suburban, but very very blue collar, and there’s plenty of farms around, large and small.

how’s your toilet paper supply? We seem to be OK.  I am a prepper by nature, and I made sure to stock up before things started to get bad.  I’m also being very mindful of how much I use, which helps.  I’m more worried about my folks, who blow through resources like crazy, but I don’t think it’s terribly hard to come by as long as you can get to a store.

what’s the worst thing that you had to cancel? I was a bit bummed about the Colin Firth concert being cancelled in the early part of this month.  That was going to be a nice night out.

To be very honest, my biggest regret is that we took on the fosters when we did.  No one in this area is in a position to adopt two cats, and to be honest... they’re not very good fosters.  Blue is friendly and outgoing, she likes to play, but she’s not cuddly -- she’s not really interested in being petted or held and doesn’t seem to want to sit in your lap for very long.

Baby likes Marc well enough, but she continues to run from me whenever she sees me, and forget about coming up for a cuddle.  She’s just... fucking miserable.

We’re also giving up on trying to integrate them with our cats.  They don’t have very good “cat manners” (they have no sense of personal space and will get right up in the other cats’ business), and the two of them have twice now gone after Rosie in what was a semi-playful, semi-aggressive manner that she definitely did not appreciate, so that’s the end of that.

It would be different if they got along with our cats, or if they were cuddly, but Blue is the only one that I’d consider truly adoptable.  Baby is fucking miserable and I have no idea how the fuck we’re going to adopt them out.  I’m desperately trying to find someone that can take them, but I don’t have a good feeling, and I honestly don’t know what we’re going to do long term.  It was a mistake taking them in, and I regret it, but I’ve got to find a way to deal with it now.

what’s the best thing you’ve had to cancel? This is going to sound terrible but... we were planning on going to a “Return of the Living Dead” convention in June.  Had tickets, a hotel, everything.  Technically it’s still on -- they haven’t cancelled the event yet -- but we’ve agreed we won’t be going, even if it’s still on in June.  Too much of a risk.

In theory this was going to be super fun, and I actually was excited about it, but... honestly, going to so many comic cons has really burned me out on other people who attend conventions, and the idea of being around mobs of people acting like smelly, poorly socialized assholes about something that I genuinely love was kind of stressing me out.

I didn’t want to see something that I love gatekept, I didn’t want to be “fake geek girled” about it by somebody with B.O. and no social awareness.  It was starting to stress me out. So I’m sad that we won’t be going, but glad that I don’t have to stress out about it.

who do you miss the most? My boss, I guess?  He was fun to hang out with and bullshit with, and we can’t really do that the same way that we did when we were in the office together.  I’m pretty lukewarm on everybody else I used to see in person day to day.

do you have any new hobbies? Ugh, please, I already have so many fucking hobbies.   Uh. Well, I did buy the sewing machine, so... :/  Let me get it set up and actually sew something before I start calling it a hobby, though.

what are you watching the most? Marc and I have been binge-watching Ozark and a show called Futureman, which are both compelling and extremely difficult to watch in different ways.  I’m still waiting on new content from the lady that lives in Japan, haha... this is probably a good opportunity to go back and watch whatever videos I haven’t seen yet.

are you still going to work? Remotely, yes, every day.  I’m actually using the time to try and get myself better organized and establish good work habits and routines that I can carry through to when things start to normalize.

what are you out of? Mmm... nothing, I don’t think?  I’m getting low-ish on yeast, since I’ve been baking so much, but I’m not even really low on that yet.  I’ve tried to do a “dried cranberry yeast starter” but I’m not convinced it took... I need to drain off the yeast liquid and add some flour tonight, see if it grows or if it’s a dud.  

have you made any changes to your hair during quarantine? I trimmed my bangs about a week ago, I think, because they were getting frustratingly long.  Fortunately I didn’t butcher them too badly.  Today I helped Marc give himself a trim, and he’s looking quite dapper again, so I guess we’re not in too bad of a shape.  I chopped my hair to the shoulders back before the quarantine so it would have to get much, much longer before it became problematic for me, and even then.  I’m still debating if I even want to color my grays at all, so I’m not concerned about “touching up roots” or anything like that.  I am what I am. 

Not tagging anyone because A) I’m terrible at tagging, B) Most of the people I follow that are “real people” and not just content-posting accounts are mutuals of one another.  If you want to participate, please consider yourself tagged.

[fuck-customers]

Big Bird Deli, Part 3

Continued from https://fuck-customers.tumblr.com/post/185625162330/continuation-of-the-big-bird-deli-story-found

Now, I know you all want me to say I got a new job and rubbed it in my store manager’s face. Sadly, reality is often disappointing. My top choices so far sent back general rejection emails and I’m looking into different industries to branch into. Now, it's not all bad news, but in order to get into the good news, I need to tell you all a story about one co-worker; our constant call off, whom I’ll refer to as CCO. Buckle up for a long story.

CCO was transferred to our store from the one about five minutes down the road a little under three years ago now. I was still in my first year when she transferred in. As I worked with her, she seemed like a good co-worker. Knowledgeable, dependable, she even taught a bunch of tricks to make the job easier. Then, some things started to bubble to the surface.

At first, the only bad thing about her is that she took a long time in the bathroom, 10-15 minutes, pretty much a break without clocking out for one. CCO’s explanation for this was biological, but she couldn’t identify her condition. Skeptical, but ok. Then, she’d also take a long time to get a drink (Non-alcoholic). Managers caught sipping a drink in the break room, and even the training room (Small room with computers for basic training/OSHA/Food Safety) and told her multiple times, she could only do that on breaks. She’d also do stuff that led to numerous signs in our back hall. She’d try store dry food there, take drinks back there, and she’d be on her cell phone on her shift way too much (Mostly showing her cats, making notes, not talking or playing games).

Then, she began to talk constantly. She’d talk with customers even after their orders were done. I constantly saw customers get that “I need to get going but I don’t see my chance to leave yet” expression, and she’d keep blabbering on for a few more minutes as the customer slowly tried to inch away. But it wasn’t just customers, CCO would do the same to co-workers. She’d blabber on while doing nothing or only very small tasks. Sometimes her conversations sucked you in, even though the topics were things from youth, church, or constant updates about her cats (she and husband got up to FIVE cats, and yes, introductions to them included pictures.) I had the highest tolerance for these stories, not sure why.

Now, I can handle those things above. But it got worse. So. Much. Worse. After our store got remodeled just before CCO came in, tasks were updated to include not only sweeping the department floor every night but also washing and squeegeeing the floor. CCO made excuses so she wouldn’t be the one doing it. She’d do anything she could to pass it off on that night’s co-worker. She made excuses that it hurt her back, but refused time and time again to get a doctor’s note to excuse her from the task. She also made excuses that it was tiring, but she stopped those excuses after only a couple weeks. This, coupled with many closers forgetting some tasks, provoked our Deli Manager to make daily task sheets starting this past summer, mostly focused on the closing staff. I, personally, am ok with the sheets, as I view it as a tool to acclimate new employees to the department tasks.

But here’s the big one. She ‘began’ to get migraines within six months of her transfer. She’d slow and become less useful during work, taking long treks to get water and basic medicine that seemed to do the trick at first. The kicker is that she began to call off once every two weeks. Now, you may think that’s not so bad and it’ll count against her. Wrong. She applied for FMLA (Family and Medical Leave Act) for her migraines. She could spend a TON of hours towards it, and she could reapply when she ran out. I started out sympathetic, as I have family members with migraines, but they have methods to curb it so they can work. CCO started calling off once a week. Twice a week. This year, it went up to three times a week. And it was almost always on the same co-worker, Nice Coworker (NC). NC became stressed, she didn’t even want to be scheduled with CCO because of it, but sometimes had no choice. I saw NC break down in tears multiple times. She threatened management to not call her if CCO called off on Sundays, cuz she wouldn’t come in at all. Our deli manager retaliated by trying to schedule CCO less. CCO retaliated by complaining about her hours and claiming hours of other co-workers due to seniority!!! She’d just take their shifts and call-off anyway! So not only was she causing hours to drop, she was basically stealing money from people who actually show up for work.

This all caused morale and productivity to plummet. We were stressed, aggravated even. All the while management still wanted everything perfect while not addressing the problem. And since we’re union, management has to give CCO chance after chance before she’s finally fired or CCO will just run and cry to the union about ‘unfair termination’. We also got wind from people in the store down the street (Sometimes people over here have to cover over there and vice versa) that this behavior happened down there, but not to the extent it got down here, and was the reason CCO transferred. We also learned that she’s had this behavior at all the past jobs she told anyone about. This woman is ten years older than me and hasn’t learned any lessons about her behavior.

Oh, but the cherry on top of this comes in the form of gaslighting and manipulation. CCO dared to call NC her friend while she was claiming NC’s hours and calling off on her! CCO would apologize and say that she “was a shitty person,” and that we “must hate her”. Insincere apologies, self-bashing designed to make you say “No, you’re not a piece of garbage!”(even though she was). CCO also spread rumors about a friend who’s like a brother to me (from another department) when he briefly got in deep trouble. She did this because she thought she could get his full-time position once he was fired (A position that took him being there 12 years and his manager begging multiple times on his behalf to get). Needless to say, I heard through the grapevine and began to truly hate her.

Oh, and remember those call-offs? CCO’d often do those on the weekend, y’know, the busy times. Especially Sundays. Since she was a “Good Christian™”, she’d want to go to church on Sundays. Ok. Reasonable. Then, she called off on Sunday evenings, a shift that’s hell to close alone. Again, on NC mostly. She’d do this repeatedly until our Deli Manager decided to not schedule her on Sunday, two weeks in a row. CCO smirked and told NC that “Her plan had worked!” and that she won’t work Sundays (She didn’t put them off on her availability because it was discouraged, and sometimes even rejected, to not work weekends). To say that, and say that to the person she called off on constantly, is just despicable. Many of us told our deli manager as soon as possible. If she didn’t schedule CCO on Sundays, she’d work on Sundays in any department she had experience in (she’s cross-trained in the Hot foods and meat departments).

At the start of this year. Everyone in the department hated her. Some would be catty or strictly business with her. I opted to pretend to not want to rip her face off, otherwise, I risked forwarding that bile to customers, and I have cried on CCO’s shoulder in the past due to previous work-related bullshit (not the story above). But, we finally had some news from the grapevine; CCO’s doctor AND corporate had picked up on her FMLA abuse. It was flagged as abuse because during times her FMLA expired and needed to be redone her migraines had ‘mysteriously’ disappeared. No call-offs until after FMLA was reinstated. Her doctor told her that he wouldn’t approve more and even if he did, it wouldn’t be approved by the company. By our calculations, she’d run out at the end of May. She ran out mid-May. All we had to do was wait.

And this past week, the good news! Turns out CCO didn’t help NC much the Saturday of my paid vacation. NC went to Store Manager on Wednesday, on her day off, to report CCO. Store Manager told NC that CCO, and potentially all of the deli, was going to get pulled into the office soon one by one. Details couldn’t be said due to confidentiality but NC said that shit was about to go down, we all just didn’t know what. On Friday, now mid-June, our Union Steward (A worker to represents the union while not working for the union directly) came and got CCO and pulled her into the office with Store Manager. Ten minutes later, CCO was escorted out of the store by Loss Prevention. The scales finally tipped when the customer complaints stacked up, and that she got into a verbal argument with a co-worker (Not me or NC) with a manager as a witness. Said co-worker was at the store on her day off, shopping and chatting with us briefly. While CCO passed by, CCO called her a bitch, in earshot of Loss Prevention. But that was the last we’ve seen of CCO.

Slight dancing was had, and upper management reminded us that this is an opportunity to turn the deli around. We got a new person who started during my vacation. She’s absolutely amazing and gets along with everyone. It’s only been a few days, but already other departments are commenting that the deli seems happier and that a great weight has been lifted. I always joked about giving CCO this big speech in a dark, even tone and saying she needs to go on disability or welfare if her work ethic or migraines are that bad. But, I decided against doing a big Facebook drama thing. Instead, I blocked her on social media and her phone number. I’m glad to finally cut her out of my life permanently.

As for me? I’m still at Big Bird. Now that the main problem is gone, I can take my time finding a good job and not go for the first one that gives me an interview. I still want to leave because of upper management, and I haven’t received confirmation that my write up was overturned. Things are looking up, and I’m glad we now have a solid, competent team as we get ready for the 4th of July sales.

Last word: I was going to post this as is, but today, I heard something amazing. A co-worker had to work a split shift, beginning down the road then coming up to our store. Turns out, CCO didn’t tell her husband that she got fired! She told him she was on vacation! And he works down the street! I busted up laughing, imagining scenarios when he finds out she lied. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall for that confrontation. :3

TL;DR

Not much has happened other than a co-worker getting fired and absolutely deserving it after putting the deli under so much stress.

[sweet-cyrus]

my andi mack experience.

The news of today has been heartbreaking. But I would like to once again share what this show has meant to me, and I’ll try my very best to not just be repeating everything everyone else is saying.

I started watching Andi Mack after I heard about it on Tumblr. It was the middle of season one, and I watched every episode that had come out thus far in one day. It was so fun. Light hearted, but deep. Heartfelt. You could tell that it was full of love and that all of the cast was channeling their love into their craft. You could tell from the get go that Andi Mack was a special show.

I am terrible at keeping up with TV shows. Positively dreadful at it. And I did slip for a while with Andi Mack; I forgot to watch new episodes after I had caught up with what had already come out.

When I heard season 2 was starting soon, I caught up with the rest of season 1. And oh my god was I excited for the premiere of season 2. I was so excited to see Cyrus. I see so much of myself in him, like I’m sure so many of you do.

I was on my phone with my significant other at the time while I was watching the first episode of season 2. We were FaceTiming, and boy was I glad to have someone to talk to when Cyrus came out to Buffy. When he came out for the first time.

I was shaking.

I was crying.

I experienced an outward, physical reaction to a TV show, which is very uncommon for me (it may have even been the first time that has happened). I was so proud. So excited for this to be on the Disney Channel. I felt so seen. The fear that Cyrus has in that scene and that Josh portrays is so real. It’s exactly how I felt the first time I came out to someone.

I continued to watch the show for a few weeks, but once a hiatus came I was back on my bullshit being terrible at watching shows. It wasn’t until a year and a half later when One in a Minyan came out (and Cyrus did to Jonah) that I knew I needed to catch up again.

I saw on Twitter that Cyrus had said “I’m gay” on Disney Channel. I watched the clip so many times without sound because I wanted the first time I actually heard him say it to be in the proper order of episodes for the show. I spent that entire weekend (which was also my birthday weekend, lol) catching up on Andi Mack. I had to get to this episode.

And once I did. Oh my goodness. The tears. I literally cheered. I have never, ever felt so seen by or so proud of any piece of media. I had to show all of my friends. My current girlfriend. Everyone I loved who knew I was gay just had to see it, and that was that. This was monumental. History.

In the days that followed I joined Andi Mack stan Tumblr and followed stan Twitter accounts (though I myself did not become one. I think stan Twitter accounts are in my past, but I interacted with others and joined groupchats). There was so much to this world than I originally even thought.

I took in so much content, and it helped me cope with some personal things I was experiencing. It made me so happy. Andi Mack is my go-to comfort show. I made reaction videos on YouTube for the episodes that followed, which has been so much fun. I can’t wait to make them for the rest of the series (though I am a bit nervous as I will be home for the summer and will be trying not to wake up my family while filming them. Wig).

I knew I had to somehow express the pride and love and adoration I had for this show and Cyrus to Joshy Rush (@joshua-rush) himself. So I wrote him a letter and I mailed it to him. I didn’t know what to expect, if anything. But a few days later, I got a DM on Twitter from Josh himself thanking me for my letter and he followed me. We had a brief chat about how much the show means to me, and also how I became mutuals with Howie Mandel. I was thrilled. This is the first time anyone I have admired has responded to any love or gratitude I’ve sent them, and I am just so glad that he knows what this show has meant to me. It pleases me beyond words.

We are so lucky to have this show. We are so lucky for this cast; one that cares so much about their roles and responsibilities as public figures and one that cares enough about their fans that they reach out and let them know that they are heard and appreciated and loved. This fandom is one of the most spectacular, wonderful things I have ever been a part of.

I am so excited to see the rest of the show, but at the same time, I never want it to end. I am heartbroken that this is the end of the road for Andi Mack. But I am so, so, beyond thankful for everything it has done and everything it has given me and so many people. I have so much love in my heart right now.

Thank you so much, Andi Mack. I’m with you all the way. 

[relucant]

cut for oceans of personal salt in an attempt to not punch a wall (again)

so over the weekend, i drove my mother down to see her sister -- who is very much dying -- for her 80th birthday. which is an incredibly depressing experience for both obvious and less obvious reasons, but it was also obviously the right thing to do, so like, i didn’t want to, but did not resent doing so.

and my back, which is always fucked up but has been more so the past week or so, really did not like driving for three-plus hours twice in three days, and by the time we got home sunday evening had gone completely thrown out, and has pretty much been excruciatingly painful in any position except completely flat on my back since then.

which sucks balls, but it happens, and at least this time it didn’t happen in a hostel in fucking albania where i was then very very nearly fed codeine by an extremely well-intentioned roommate, to which i am very very allergic and would almost definitely and ended up with me in an albanian hospital, so like, there’s that. (almost also was fed codeine in a chilean hospital despite obviously listing my allergies -- or allergy, since it’s my only known one -- and only barely noticed and had to figure out how to say “omg no i am allergic” in spanish which i don’t really speak, which wtf world stop it with the codeine)

except. except. the a/c unit in my room is very old and has been making dying noises for a while, and whenever i am here i have been gently (and, admittedly, increasingly less gently) reminding my mother that it would probably make a lot more sense and be far less expensive to start looking to replace it before it totally dies in the middle of florida summer, and/or starts leaking all over my bed and bedroom, and is suddenly an emergency. but she, of course, is the most useless person on the planet, and will do absolutely nothing about anything ever until and unless i finally snap and have a fucking screaming meltdown like a fucking child, in which case about 5% of the time she’ll put in like three minutes of effort, or at least say she will and then wait until i leave again and then go back to her sudoku puzzles and wine.

(seriously, like, my father is dying of cancer and cirrhosis and has dementia reaching the point that he can’t really be left alone even with two different people coming by twice a day to make sure he and the cat are okay, and she’s one trip-and-fall [in a walking obstacle course of a house] away from going from can’t-walk-without-assistance to in-the-hospital-indefinitely, and it took me years and years and multiple screaming fights for her to finally begin to wrap her head around the concept that maybe we/they should have, i dunno, a fucking lawyer, and some vague sort of plans in place for when one or both of them die and/or can’t live at home anymore, which, well, i guess at least they finally have a lawyer, which i literally had to find for them through friends when i was thousands of miles away, which seems reasonable i guess...)

anyway, yeah, so we finally get home, and -- after discovering that my father had somehow got his hands on the tray of baby catnip seeds i had planted and carefully tucked in a sunny windowsill away from him, and of course, ...dumped them into the fridge. which of course, dementia is not his fault, but dementia has just exacerbated his infuriating need to just get his hands on anything nearby, with no regard as to whether it belongs to him or not, and just mess with it, so of course i was instantly pissed off within minutes of walking in the door --

so i head to my room to do the whole lie flat on my back while make vague pitiful noises thing, and the a/c unit had, of course, suddenly finally begun to leak filthy a/c water all over the inside of my room, and mostly, of course, directly on my bed and pillow, which were completely soaked and disgusting, and the entire room still smells like -- well, like filthy a/c water had been soaking into it for two solid days. fortunately, the a/c still works, more or less, or else i flat-out couldn’t stay here (not that that’d be a bad thing, i guess), but there is now a giant gross paint bucket either hanging precariously from a lamp to catch the nonstop water drip, and which will be terrible if and when the arm of the lamp breaks, or just kind of propped up on my bed which i will almost certainly kick over in my sleep and will be terrible.

and, of course, although this is a three-bedroom house inhabited only by my parents and temporarily me, with a full pull-out couch in the den and a reasonably comfortable couch in the living room, there is absolutely no other place i could sleep. my parents’ bedroom now reeks so badly of my father’s urine and excrement that even the cat won’t go in there, so my mother (quite understandably) will not share a bed with him and so has appropriated my brother’s old room; they are hoarders so i don’t know if i could even reach the couch in the den, let alone clear off the several feet of random junk that’s festered atop it for probably a decade, let alone actually pull it out; and frankly i don’t want to sleep anywhere my father has even sat down like the other couch. so my sleeping option sleeping upside down on my already uncomfortable bed, with no wall or headboard to support a backrest or pillow, trying not to kick over a bucket of dirt-water onto myself in my sleep.

and like, i know it’s my own responsibility to make sure that things that need to happen do in fact happen, because my father obviously can’t and my mother just won’t, and i should have been more proactive about -- well, everything -- but like, i bring up things over and over and over, trying to discuss things like actual fucking adults, and just get a complete blank stone wall every single time, without even a response, even a “yeah, but we can’t do that right now,” just nothing, to the point that i’m like, “...did you hear me? are you there?” and i guess this was just another straw on the camel’s broken back, and went in to talk to her about like, you realize this is now A Problem, right, which -- admittedly after probably too much painkiller vodka since i have no actual painkillers -- i could not stop the flood of anger and resentment and hurt, and said some shit that was true but cruel -- all of which i have said many times before but not cruelly, and so was thoroughly ignored and dismissed every time.

which devolved into me in tears, again, over how unfair, inappropriate, and just plain horrible it is for her to treat me as her emotional support pinata, and the only person in the world she has to vent to and unload on, while categorically refusing to seek any sort of external support in any way shape or form, just knocking on my door drunk as fuck every night shaking with anger and anxiety and literally hiding from my father and just telling me how she feels like she is going to die, with absolutely no understanding or care that what she says and does (and does not do) actually, like, affects me, at all. she has this thing in her head where happiness/misery is like a zero sum game, where as long as she makes sure she is as absolutely miserable as she can possibly be, she somehow like uses up the misery so it’s good for everyone else.

and, of course, her seeing me as her only source of support or outlet to vent is very much a one-way street, because when she’s so wrapped up in her own anxiety and misery, it’s not like she is willing or capable of someone i could go to for anything ever. the few times that i’ve ever been like look i’m dealing with a lot right now, can you just like be there for me a tiny bit, she’s like i’m sorry you know i love you and would do anything for you, but i’m not actually willing to do anything at all so i don’t know what you want me to do or say.

and her manipulative takeaway, of course, was not “you’re right, it’s not fair, i will try to look into more/healthier ways to deal with this and people who can offer me help and support” but instead “you’re right, it’s not fair, i shouldn’t ever vent to you again i just won’t talk to anyone ever about what’s going on.” because of course.

she has a million excuses to avoid going to therapy, which are all bullshit, because she actively refuses to understand that like making an appointment with a therapist is zero percent commitment. no, for the fiftieth time, if you don’t want to get into your childhood trauma, you don’t have to; if you’re not ready or willing to deal with your alcoholism right now, frankly i don’t blame you, and you don’t have to, and i will say exactly those things to her and she will respond with, literally, “well, but i don’t want to get into my childhood trauma and i’m not ready to deal with my alcoholism right now.” great. glad you listen.

she finally agreed that if i found a therapist for her, she would try (again), which i’m totally willing to do, since i have a lot more experience in the mental health/therapy area than she does and i get totally that’s intimidating. but also, we’ve done this before, and she liked the therapist she was briefly seeing, who i connected her to via my own shrink, but despite promising to continue seeing her after i left, absolutely never did again. which, like, okay! her therapist specialized in addiction, so of course the drinking came up frequently; they only met for maybe six weeks, so her therapist was still obviously getting to know her and the drinking is an issue, but not the issue, but also hey, maybe it’s just not a good fit, that’s totally absolutely fine, but also don’t fucking lie to me until i leave the country and then stop going.

and also she was like “well i just spend half the session bitching about your father, so it seems pointless” and i’m like half the fucking point is so you have someone else to bitch to, and in particular someone who may have access to actual resources and things that could help this shitty situation. but, nah, or she could just make sure everything is as bad as possible.

i’m leaving in a week, at least, not super long term (maybe) but get a break from here, see some cats and some beloved friends and some old and new places on the other coast and also some temperatures that aren’t triple digit. and i have friends here that have offered me a bed or couch if and when i need to just not be in this terrible house, and i have no reason to doubt their sincerity at all, but i just hate the version of me that exists here so much that it’s so difficult to believe that anyone would want to be around me when i so very much don’t even want to be around me.

[xxwinterchillxx]

Halloween Dance and Some Unfortunate Events

Summary:

Levi is willing to go all the way to get Eren to go with him to the Halloween Dance. But things get complicated since Levi cannot show any sign of intelligence around the German hottie. However, he isn’t taking no for an answer.

Rating - Teen and Up Audiences

Categories - M/M

Relationships - Levi/Eren, background relationships, Moblit/Hanji, Armin/Erwin, Krista|Historia/Ymir

Chapters - 3/?

Read below cut or read on AO3

Chapter 3 : You free tonight?

Last week was kind of a mess. Krista believed us and didn’t stir up any more trouble. Anyway, I think the incident kind of broke her spirit for now cause apparently, she doesn’t feel like going to the dance anymore. But there was a lot of unnecessary drama and shit. So, I’m really looking forward to a relaxing weekend.

The guilt will eventually creep in but for now, I’m just really glad that there’s one less competition.

6 days left till the dance.

I’m not even sure that I’ll be going to this thing though, honestly. It’s very complicated. I mean, I want to go but only with Eren. And I’m not fucking confessing to my crush.  God, it’s so embarrassing just thinking about it. And I go all gooey once I see him. Assuming that I ask him out, what if I go gooey while we’re dancing? Oh shit, I just realised. I can’t even fucking dance.

This is just too much. I’m just gonna go and take a nap.

 Tring~ Tring~

“Huh? Wa-?” I shot up, my mind hazed and clouded. I felt like a dehydrated zombie, which is why you should never take afternoon naps. “Mom! Someone’s calling!” I managed to shout, despite my sore throat.

Tring~ Tring~

A muffled voice came from the next room, “Pick it up for me, will you, hon? Mommy’s in the shower.”

I stumbled out of my bed and literally rolled down the stairs when I tripped on the blanket I wrapped myself with.

“Ouch!” I winced when my head banged against the floor on the last step.

I could distinctly hear mom saying, “Are you okay, Levi?” Yeah, sure.

I picked up the phone and rubbed my eyes, mumbling sheepishly, “Ah…hello… thi- this’… Levi.”  

I could hear some sort of muffled voices on the other end and someone whisper-shouting, “Quiet! Quiet! Shhh!”

Honestly, I’m too tired to deal with Isabel and her bullshit. So, I was about to put it back on the holder before-

“Uh!...-uhm h-hey Levi, It’s Eren.”

I could hear someone on his side mimicking him, “IT’S EREN!!” And then sounds of hitting each other.

“Oh Isabel, fuck you.”

“No no, it is me! Eren!! We sit together in some of the classes, remember?” the person on the other end quipped.

I looked at the caller ID. And my eyes literally went from half dead to shot alive. I could literally feel my stomach drop-     ‘Jaeger’

“Levi? Are you still there?”

In response, I giggled out, “Uh-huh, nyyesss~?” Oh my fucking god, I giggled. I giggled. What’s wrong with mmeeee????

“Oh, uh. I’m having a party tonight-”

“Dumbass, it’s tomorrow,” someone whispered.

“Ah right, fudge. I’m… having a party on Sturdy- Saturday night. And it’s kind of like a costume party, no biggie. Soo it’s gonna be super cool and I want you there…”

I think he said some more stuff about whether I could come or some shit, but my useless brain just stopped at ‘I want you’.

“What did one beach say to the other? Shore.” I made a gun-click sound with my tongue.

I didn’t wait for his response as I literally smashed the phone into the wall, face fuming. Why am I like this? Why am I like this? Oh god, why the fu-

Mom came down the stairs, “Honey? Why is your face all red? And why are you curled up in the middle of the living room?”

I looked at her distastefully. She probably doesn’t even know I’m gay. Huh, I don’t even know if I’m gay. I dated this girl, Annie for 8 months, which is pretty long for a high-schooler. But it kind of just faded away. We haven’t talked in like forever. Huh, we haven’t even broken up. Eh but I guess it’s kinda implied?

Well, whatever. I yanked out my iPhone from the charger and sped up to my room, making sure to close the door.

“Hanji, you’re not gonna believe this!” I chattered out happily, plopping down on the bed and squishing my pillow.

“No no, wait, don’t tell me. Lemme guess.” I could hear her shuffling through something and then a thud sound.

“What are you even doing?”

Not bothering to answer my question, she asked, “Is it Moblit?” I mentally head banged myself.

Moblit. Moblit. It’s always Moblit with her. What’s up with that? Don’t get me wrong, I love that my friend’s in a relationship but please for the love of God, stop. Even I don’t talk that much about Ere- wait, nevermind.

“No, it’s about Eren.”

She hummed, “Did he refuse?”

“What? The fuck, no, Hanji, he didn’t refuse-”

“Gee, alright, don’t get so worked up.”

It’s so hard to not yell at her sometimes.

Taking a large patient breath, I said, “He asked me to come to his costume party tomorrow night. At his house!”

“Whoa, holy shit. Hold up, Levi. I’m coming over.”

And that’s how we ended up in my room. She brought along Petra and Erwin and much to my horror, she brought Armin along. We were actually supposed to discuss my costume but having that blonde brat there made it so damn suffocating, especially since he is Eren’s best friend.

Dragging Hanji into a room, I hissed, “Why did you bring that moron?!”

Hanji viciously hissed back, “What was I supposed to do, huh, Levi? Erwin was making out with him when I climbed to his window.”

Swallowing back my vomit, I gagged, “Ew, don’t tell me that.”

We were spitting out hurtful insults at each other (you know, just like friends do) when Armin came up to us, smiling sweetly, “Can I get refill on the tea? It tastes amazing.”

Hanji and I looked at him for like a full minute before I moved, “Yeah, sure.” He isn’t a bad kid really but now, whenever I look at him, I see a very disturbing mental image of Erwin giving it to him hard. Gag. I led him into the kitchen and poured out another cup of tea. Armin sat on one of the chairs near the kitchen island.

“Eren expects you at the party, you know.” Slip. Crash.

“Jesus! Shit- W-what did you say?” I tried to play it cool as I mopped up the spilled boiling tea carefully.

“He doesn’t invite a lot of people. Well, not directly.”

I hummed positively in response as I handed him his tea. A million thoughts were processing through my head and every one of them had Armin as my very supportive wingman. After all, he is Eren’s best friend. I wanted to ask him so many things. I just couldn’t figure out how to bring it up. I wanted to ask mainly about stuff like ‘What does Eren say about me?’ ‘Have you, by chance, seen his-’

“So, what are you wearing?”

A bulb went off in my head and I almost wanted to French make out with Armin, “Oh, I don’t know…um… what.. what does he like?”

Armin scratched his head, not suspecting even a tiny thing, “He likes lots of things. Mainly stuff like superheroes, cars, transformers…” He laughed out lightly, “You know, everything a 10-year old would like, haha.”

I pretended to smile and pressured him more, “Any idea what he’s wearing?”

“A cop, I heard. He thinks it’s cool, protecting stuff.”  

I smiled. Handcuffs. Dear god, I’m so fucking gay.

“He likes cute things though. You know, small, tiny and cute?” He made a gesture with his hand as if to signal I’m short.

I cocked an eyebrow and growled, “What? You calling me tiny?”

I could see Armin was starting to panic when Erwin came in, “God, you two were in here so long. What were you talking about?”

I hopped down from the counter and headed up to my room, whispering bitterly into Erwin’s ear as I passed by, “Your tiny dick.”

 ~~oOo~~

 I sat on my sofa, swimming through dozens of my old Halloween costumes. Most of them were really crappy, to be honest. A coat and a cap (Sherlock Holmes), something greenish (Elves or Peter Pan, I don’t care) and some others. I mean, I like Halloween for the scary movies, not for candy. As a kid, I never liked going trick-or-treating that much. I liked to stay home and mooch off the candies we keep at home. Much to mom’s annoyance.

Hanji came out from my closet wearing a frown, “Don’t you have anything else?”

I looked up from an old magazine, “No.”

“Jeez, you’re fun.”

When I made no reply, Hanji walked over and plopped down next to me on the floor, “Then we’ve to buy something.”

“We?”

Ignoring me, she continued, “Something petite and cute… cute and tiny… hmm”

I listened to her humming for a split second before flipping another page of the magazine. There was a whole page advertisement for a pet shop or something. Flipping to the next page, I sighed, “I wish I could get a rabbit.”

“Say what?”

I grunted nonchalantly in response. Hanji ripped out the book from my hands earning a distraught ‘hey!’ from me.

“This is it!!”

“I was reading that, you know.”

“A bunny!! It’s cute and tiny, with its little nose and you’re so cute and ti-”

I cut her off, “Bunny costumes scream – hey, what’s up? Let’s fuck.”

Hanji winked at me, “For Eren?”

My face steamed to bright red before I screeched, “Shut up!”

And that’s how I ended up ordering a bunny costume from Hanji’s (shady) ‘guy’ or so she calls. Hanji promised me that it wasn’t one of those revealing sexy types. She said it bent more towards the ‘cute’ side, with ears and a fluffy tail.

I don’t know about the ears but I’m cutting off the tail once that thing gets here. I don’t need people wondering if a cloud was attached to my ass all night long. According to what Hanji said, Armin told Hanji that Eren likes people who acts cute in general. So currently, I am revising the habits of the ‘school cutie’ Krista. She sort of bounces her head around, smiles and makes a lot of weird noises. Not creepy ones like I do, but noises like ah’s and oh’s.

I tried practicing my smile. Tried.

The rest of the afternoon, I tried out different looks with myself. The only thing it did was to remind me why I should stick to my style. Then I talked with myself in front of the mirror, you know, for conversational purposes. It was actually really beneficial cause I found out that if I laugh too freely, my eyebrows raise up weirdly and I make noises like a pig. I also found out my eyes look cooler when I apply some eyeliner. At the end, I had everything planed out – how I’ll smile, what to talk about, how to approach Eren and pull off the ‘cute’ rabbit look like a boss.

Hell yeah, I’m the boss.

That night, I lathered my face with some herbal fluid mom made. She said my face will glow like a princess in the morning if I keep it on overnight. Ha, I’m a princess.  

I kind of looked like Shrek at the moment though so I Facetimed Hanji. As soon as she picked up, I yelled at the top of my voice, “GET OUT OF MY SWAMP!”

Hanji laughed tensely in return. I looked at the screen for a moment before retorting, “What? Don’t you get it? I have a green face.”

On the other screen, Hanji scratched her head nervously and croaked, “I get it! … hehe… Levi you’ll find this funny…. But umm…”

I stopped goofing around. Taking in a deep breath, I glared at the screen and prepared myself.

“You know that sexy cute bunny costume we ordered?”

“Yeah, the one I paid for. What about it?”

“Well, it came at 6 in the evening today and…”

“That’s great. I’ll pick it up in the morning.”

“Well, it’s not exactly sexy…or high school…ish.”

“What do you mean ‘not high scho-’ Oh my god.”

All the strength left my knees as I gazed upon the monstrosity that Hanji was holding up. I must not have done a great job at hiding my shock because Hanji started looking all worried and she tried to console me, “At least it’s cute. Right? Right?”

She was holding up a motherfucking bright pink rabbit jumpsuit. No, Hanji. It’s not cute.

  ~~oOo~~

 Hanji and I spent all morning trying to fix the costume. The measurements were too big and I looked like I was wearing an oversized onesie pyjama that I occasionally use as a sleeping bed. In other words, it looked absolutely horrifying.  

I bleached the whole suit and put it in the washer for like, 6 hours. Fortunately, the shocking bright pink colour faded to a soft whitish-pink hue which looked less in-your-face. Mom took care of the rest. But the costume proportions were so wrong she practically sewed the whole thing over.

However, I still had a onesie by the end of the day.

Distraught, I looked at the mirror in vain. My hands felt around the costume and I felt my heart sinking. One of the rabbit ears flopped over to the side while the other stayed upright. The hood fell to my shoulders and the fluffy cloth hung around my tiny frame.

Hanji quipped from the other room, “You look cute, okay? So, stop worrying.”

The party was in an hour. I sighed heavily, my hands patting the giant rabbit ears. I look like a freak. Only my whiskers were on point, drawn on by Hanji.

“Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask you this since morning.”

I turned away from the mirror and looked at Hanji, “What?”

“Why is your face so damn smooth?”

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[westcoastprancer]

My Auto-Spaz-Ography

***WARNING - WAY TOO MUCH UNNECESSARY PROFANITY***

Getting past the only child bullshit...sue me I guess? Not my fault my parents could only handle one of me. Pretty annoying growing up hearing from morons that I must be a spoiled little shit...

Can’t really argue there. Aside from self-inflicted hunger (you know...that junior high self image bullshit..starve and lose 5 lbs in a weekend), I’ve never gone hungry. I’ve never been cold, without clothes, or a roof over my head. I was taught values. So yeah, I am fucking spoiled rotten. No apologies there.

People who continuously stay “stuck” royally piss me off. These weirdos are toxic. Avoid them at all costs. They will not change. You will thank me for this piece of advice sometime in your life. Everybody’s got a problem. So do I. Set goals for yourself. Get the fuck off your sad ass every couple weeks. Find your best friend (if you don’t have one of those...you should seriously consider working on finding one) get trashed, talk it out and let that shit go for a while. If you’re stuck in a rut for more than 2-3 months, get help. Seriously. It’s not embarrassing. It’s way more shitty in the long run when you turn out to be the aforementioned person who just stays fucking “stuck”. On another note, subject of the week has been middle aged divorced broads with kids and how sly and bitchy they are. If they go ape shit on me before getting their facts straight, imagine what they do to all these poor men? No fucking wonder a good, non hot dog throwing down hallway status, loyal, no bullshit broad like me can’t find a solid dude. The good dudes are out there getting berated by these broads they knocked up and can’t get out of it now because...you know...the kids and stuff. I’m glad I took a different path. Can’t imagine being in that desperate place looking for affection because I am 37-47 year old wrinkly, loosey goosey broad thinking I was tossed aside by a shitty man, when I am the nutbag...just looking for attention. It’s easy to get laid. No strings. No problems. Many people make it way too complicated. My friend’s brother is hilarious. He is kinda a douche and I love his stories about profiling chicks. My favorite was when he told this broad at the bar she looked beautiful and she said how he made her day! (First red flag) They go to exchange numbers and she once again tells him what a nice time she had meeting him ( nothing wrong with that) but then goes on daily wishing him a good day. That’s another desperate sign. Come to find out...middle aged. Divorced. Kids. Lonely in the panties. You know the drill. I used to host this radio show called Cryin’ Lovin’ Laughin’ or Leavin’ so I learned these things sort of young. You remember the patterns of people. You know warning signs of crazy. Here’s the most invaluable lesson, most people are batshit crazy. Keep the wall up a while. Test people. I have caught so many good people (so I thought) in lies through the years. Even little irrelevant lies. It doesn’t matter if it’s a friend, relative, colleague, or significant other. When you catch someone in a lie of even the smallest, you wonder what else they are capable of lying about. It changes everything. Be like me. Don’t lie. Sometimes it’s hard, but then you have nothing to hide and having the truth on your side keeps you out of some really shitty situations.Even if it is so embarrassing and you have to put a towel over your head to face the truth...do it. If you don’t believe a word of anything else I say...believe me when I tell you about people. The good and the bad. Just take the time to get to know a person. You don’t want a lazy middle aged squinty eyed salmoncake real estate selling Mom moving her and her kids asses into your house all of a sudden. You ain’t that desperate. Oh and dudes, I’m coming for you...don’t act desperate either. Just don’t. I tend to take your sides on this shit because dudes on the other sides of things are usually just happy to be free, so their demeanor is totally different. But that doesn’t mean I won’t flip sides on you if you guys start getting weird. Covid seems to have made everyone crazy.

Even in a good mood, there is nothing better than a super depressing 90’s country song...am I right? It’s that sad shit that always gets me in my damn near non-existent soul. Look, I randomly placed 6th out of 20 on a totally impromptu Roast Battle at the Laugh Factory in LA one night. One of the roastmasters told me I did so well for my first time because I have no soul. HA HA HA...that one fucking stuck with me. Back to the point - if you can’t sit down with a couple good homies now and then and blast “Alibis” on 10 while chugging Crown, you should really address some things in your monotonous life. Just sayin for someone who doesn’t do the bar scene much anymore and barely has feelings...I know every color of every neon sign. I’m always hashin out a heartache in the back of my mind. Makes me remember not to go there ever again. People suck. I feel like I have already mentioned this. I’m not a “hard” person. I’m a realist. I don’t want to miss fantastic opportunities with people, but I also know those people are few and far between so I really keep my guard up. The right people always tear it down in time. 

People who get offended by profanity seriously piss me off more than a hive of wasps chasing me. Let me be clear...if I wasn’t dropping at least 72 f-bombs a day...I’m not sure where I would be in life. It’s turning all negative events in my life into positivity. I mean when you think about the F word. No matter how you slice or dice it...it does have a positive meaning in any context. “Go fuck yourself.” - Ok! “Fuck that!” - With what?! “Fuck You!” - Time and place please? Etc… Do you know what I am fucking saying?

Seriously asked my father the other day why he didn’t own Hilton chains or something. I’m sick of this fucking sweaty ass work too hard lifestyle with hardly any time to do fun shit. The idea of being some stuck up heiress with holes in my pockets sound fucking fantastic to me sometimes. Maybe just not the stuck up part. Could you imagine me that way? Snap my fingers and a drink comes! First class flights to St. Croix with my inner posse.  Living the goddamn dream. Me and my doggies on a private island!

I’ve become a bit dramatic, I think. For an extremely hard headed Portagee, I can still call myself out when needed. It’s kinda weird not living alone anymore. I’ve got a badass homie around now (wish I would have met years ago) who actually gives a shit how my day was. So I kinda get called out now on my bullshit. (Side note: It’s important to keep company around you who doesn’t enable your negative traits. Your best friends will call you on your shit and help you grow.) Sometimes I’ll lay down and pout all day over some shit that is NOTHING. Just get stoned and forget the fuck about it. I’m sure this is something I’ve been doing for years. Never caught it til now. Checklist to work on. No one likes even a small percentage of a drama queen. Yuck.

Amazing the shit I think of while stoned. What’s the point of dating? Attach yourself to another person for life? Is that even natural? Attach yourself to yourself...not American Pie style you pervert. Attach yourself to doggies. I cannot stress enough how fulfilling life is raising pups. Watching them grow and learn. I’m not even talking about the ones you raise from babies. Even at an older age, your dog will still learn and grow with mental stimulation and affection. It’s so amazing to watch the new things they learn and pick up on. If you treat your dogs well, they will treat you double as well until death do you part. Sure, it’s shitty you get so attached and they don’t live very long, but it teaches you perseverance. True value of cherishing your pals and moving on in your life always keeping a piece of them with you. Sounds fucking gut wrenching sad. It is, but I promise you the time you spend with your pups outweighs the sadness in the end.( If you’re planning on spending zero time with your animal, leave your pet in constant confined spaces, starve or beat it...don’t fucking get one. Don’t even get close to one. They are better off in the wild than with your crazy ass. You ain’t right.)

You can’t be a lying dickface all the time and expect everyone to be nice to you. Saw a good one on Family Guy that touched my sweet heart a little. Stewie to Brian: “You’re not my friend. Friends come and go. You’re family. That’s for life.” Sounds so sweet. In fact I wanted to call my bestie and tell him that. Then I snapped out and realized “family” can be a super toxic F word. Sad thing is I have a pretty big “family” on each side, yet the older I get, I have realized my only family is my parents. In fact, I have created my own family full of non-blood relatives. Life is wonderful in the positive environment I have created for myself through the years. It’s amazing to form bonds with amazing people who have no ulterior motives like wills and money. Fucking money brings out the true colors in people. It’s sad. People spend their whole lives trippin balls over money. That must suck. 

Those dorks at Central Catholic. Even at 15 made me laugh like hell. They’d interview the football “stars” getting full rides to Notre Dame and shit. My favorite was when asked about their favorite band... “Creed man. Such great “hard rock” with such powerful, positive messages.” Those dudes are probably miserable in their physical therapists jobs with their cheating whore wives who come home smelling like ratty vaginas. Someone had to fucking say it. Embarrassing confession: “My Sacrifice” is a FANFUCKINGTASTIC song!

I have a hard time with people. I try my best. I always learn and continue to grow. I got that goin for myself. People suck. People are cruel. (3rd time I’ve said this today?)  People take no time to disappoint me for the most part. If you’re kind to me, I will be twice as kind to you. If you’re a fuckface to me, expect me to be an extra double fuck with a cherry on top. Add some nuts too and suck on that shit. I’m a badass person to have in your life and on your team. If you’re lucky enough to make it into my inner circle, I’ll probably be one of the best friend’s you’ve ever made. If you can’t look at yourself in the mirror and see the person that you would like to be friends with, you need to make some changes. It took me a long time to become my own best friend. If you can’t be solid with spending time with yourself, you can’t be solid with anyone and you’ll eventually become a dead weight. Take the time to get to know yourself and work on it...for me it’s constant. I know there is other people with my qualities in the world. If you find one, take the time to learn about them and ease your way into friendship slowly. Actions speak louder than words. Prove yourself to be a good human. Be patient. The best relationship of any type comes with time and work.

Let’s see…

Don’t be a fucking retail investor.

Don’t be a fucking commie.

Don’t be a fucking douchebag. 

Don’t fucking settle.

Don't stop bettering yourself for you and those you care for.

Don’t stop fucking being YOU!

LO

[inspirationallyinsane]

April 2 2018

Tumblr :D Hi. It's me, cha girl. I am doing so well. I feel very peaceful right now. I had a full day of work, I got to go home and take a nap, take a shower, and now I get to chill out in bed writing about my favorite things while wearing my boyf's sweatshirt. How nice???? Work has been crazy though. We lost one of our tellers and moved another teller to only work Mondays and Fridays and it has been insane. Like today, it was just me and one other person until 10:00. On the first Monday of the month. Unacceptable??? I was supposed to leave at 4 today but I ended up having to stay until 5 just because we couldn't keep up. To be fair though I really feel like a lot of our tellers are kinda slow. I think I'm one of the quickest tellers as far as transactions go. If everyone processed the transactions as quickly as I do then we'd have less of a problem. I also understand though that the other tellers have to talk to people which would probably slow them down. So. Can't really blame them I guess. I'm a little upset right now. Not full blown upset yet but today one of my managers said that I might not get the promotion. Like excuse me?? You told me it was mine? You told me that if I applied I basically had the job? And all the other shit was just a formality? And now you're telling me that's not true? I don't understand that. I still fully believe they are going to give me the job but it's like... why say that shit? So I started applying for UB jobs at other US Banks. The ones in Medford have open positions with more hours so it would be better for me to take one of those. Especially since it would be wayyy easier to find an apartment in Medford. I really don't want to leave my branch but if my manager is going to pull some shit like this??? I won't stay just cuz. That's garbage. I've been so busy this last week. I hung out with all of my friends and even some new friends :) I love people so much. Just talking and having a good time until like 4 in the morning. It's my favorite thing. There is nothing better than people. People can also be confusing and they can say and do things that you do not understand. I think that sometimes I even say and do things that I do not understand. I wish I knew why I felt the way that I do sometimes. I think that would make life easier. Ummm and I've been seeing a lottttt of Mason. My fav, the cutest ever. Every time I see him it is wonderful. Last weekend we hung out with my mommo and my brother and it was awesome :) it's lowkey hard to find people that my family likes, I think. I mean I just remember it was always hard for me with AG because they all hated him. I'm glad that isn't the case. We all talked for a while and we got to play some Cranium. Mason and I slayed it out, we didn't get to finish the game but we were substantially ahead when we had to leave. So. We counted it as a W. Any guy I can win a game of Cranium with is good in my book. And then on Sunday I got to go out to his place and hang out with his friends. Which was awesome. They are funny kiddos. And very different from what I'm used to. My friends are sooo different. Well. Some of my friends. The friends I was hanging out with last week. They are like, true St. Mary's kids. Which I guess a lot of you wouldn't know what that means but it's hard to describe. It's a totally different attitude and vibe. I'm glad I can chill with both. Like Mason and his friends full ass built a fire. I've never seen that before. It was really cool. We hung out in the nature. Weird. We also played a good bit of Xbox which is much more within my comfort zone. That was fun too. He is so nice to me. He reminds me of what a relationship is supposed to look like. He kisses me on the reg and he texts me every day. He always wants to hang out. I haven't had those things in a while. Even with AG, I barely ever saw him really. And what's crazy is my last few guys have actually lived close to me??? Mason is like an hour drive away and yet?? We are both more than willing to make the drive. Because of course we are. He makes me feel really happy. And that is also something I haven't had in a relationship in a long time. Just being happy with someone. Not having the arguments or the petty bullshit. Not being constantly put down or ignored or abused. It's so wonderful. It makes me want to cry a little bit. To think that something so beautiful exists. That someone could actually be good. And do you know what is awful? I'm waiting. I'm waiting for this bubble to break. For him to be awful to me. That's what would be normal. Logically, I don't believe it will happen. Based on how he is with his friends, I think. They've known each other for a long time and he is still good to them. In a guy sorta way but the care remains. Whereas the others did not have that compassion for their friends, or other people at all. The WorstTM was a sociopath and AG was just so inside of his own world that he didn't have the room to worry about anyone else. They didn't have friends like Mason does. I think that is a very telling thing. It is strange for me though, I am so used to being in these really intense, veryyyy serious relationships. Obviously, I was engaged, and then I broke off my engagement because I had been quasi-dating this other guy for a while and we were full ass in love. We were talking about marriage and kids from the beginning of the relationship. I don't know how to do this casual thing. I need to change my mindset on things, I guess. Ultimately things are really good. I have two of his hats and I have his sweatshirt and they are now my favorite possessions. I get to sleep in my boyfriend's sweatshirt again :D I love doing that. And it smells like him. Which may sound a bit weird but it's very comforting to me? I love it. He makes me smile, all the time. Which makes people look at me like I'm a crazy person sometimes. Like today at the bank I was thinking about him and I just sat there smiling like an idiot and Ben looks at me and goes "Why tf are you so happy?" And I just told him I had a really good weekend hanging out with my favs and he says that he's never had a weekend that would make him smile like that on a Monday morning. I think that's sad. I hope everyone gets to have weeks/weekends like the one I got to have. Happiness is so fleeting. If I can hold on to that happiness into Monday, I'm sure as shit going to do it. Anyway. I guess that is all for now. Thanks for listening, as always, Tumblr. Goodnight :)

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 308

I’m an Eeyore, blah, blah, blah, whatever, sorry. Ramblings under the cut but seriously maybe just keep scrolling. Why am I even here.

Oh cool. More voiceovers. They’re bugging me way more this season than they used to and I’m not sure why. Maybe because they’re not used as much so when they show up again it’s more jarring?

Young Ian being proud of his skills as a criminal is adorable. Young Ian being proud that Fergus thinks he’s a good criminal is adorable. Young Ian in general is adorable. I’m basically just hanging on to how much I like Young Ian because I’d like to be positive about something.

Ok, I’m sorry, I want to like Jenny. But jfc. Calling Claire a stray? I get that she has complicated feelings about the situation or whatever but can people please stop treating Claire like she’s a piece of crap who no one wants around? It’s getting old. And annoying af.

Also, can Claire please stand up for herself? Like Claire. You suffered enough and were shit on for so long. You don’t need to put up with this crap anymore. You didn’t fucking kill a guy in cold blood. A guy tried to fucking rape you, you defended yourself, he fell, and you tried and failed to save him. That’s a far cry from the fucking murder they’re making it out to be. And it took all of one fucking sentence to explain.

Although good on Jenny for seconding how Claire called out Jamie last week for how he was with Young Ian. Because wtf, Jamie.

Oh hey, Jamie remembers how he learned that beating people isn’t the best form of “punishment.” The smallest of gold stars for you, JAMMF.

Ok I don’t get why they didn’t just have Janet be Kitty. Like we’ve been introduced to Young Jamie, Maggie, Kitty and Ian. Why bother even introducing another rando Murray kid?

Also, did the Murray kids start having babies at like 16? Because the smols running around are pretty old considering Maggie and Young Jamie are like in their early 20s.

Also if Claire and Jamie lived at Lallybroch for a year that the show basically skipped over in season two, Young Jamie would probs definitely remember Claire. But cool that the show needs literally everyone to make Claire feel unwelcome. *eye roll*

Not sure how I feel about Jenny acting like she was entitled to Jamie sharing his grief. Like that’s his call? You’re not entitled to anything? I get wanting to help your brother and stuff, but idk. She seems to be making it about her and what she needed and I’m not here for that?

“I barely wanted to breathe, let alone speak of it.” Cool, Jamie, then maybe start acting like you actually want Claire around? Because last week you were a douchenozzle of epic proportions to her.

Good on Jenny for knowing Jamie’s full of shit when he tells her the BS about where Claire went. The story like isn’t really believable.

Yes, Claire. Tell Jenny the truth. Dooo it.

But fuck Jamie for thinking Jenny wouldn’t be able to accept the truth about Claire. Literally everything in this episode makes it seem like she’d believe them. And it’d work so well if they’d just tell her. If they tell her next week, fine, but I’ll still be mildly annoyed because like why drag it out unnecessarily?

Also, they bring up Murtagh and Jamie forgets to tell Claire he’s alive? Because if she knows and they had that conversation off-screen I’ma be pissed.

The shots of Jamie climbing up to the tower thing are so overly dramatic I can’t even. Like when his hands come up over the wall thing but then he just like casually steps over it. Like wat? What am I watching.

Also the jewels in that box look like the plastic stuff I had in my dress up box when I was a kid.

Caitriona Balfe’s face during the whole greylag thing kills me. Basically Caitriona Balfe’s face during this whole episode kills me. *throws awards at Caitriona Balfe’s face*

Glad they didn’t have the kiddos interrupt sex because Joan is basically a fetus, but the “daddy” thing is still so weird. Especially from Marsali. An 18 year old who calls her stepdad “daddy” is fucking weird. Especially if that stepdad only lived with them for a couple months.

Good to see Laoghaire is still just as fucking terrible as ever. *eye roll* Seriously. After ep. 208, I was like cautiously optimistic that maybe Laoghaire would have some character growth. Like yeah, she’s still fucking insane, but to have her just barge in with the same old over the top “my whole purpose in life is hating Claire because I’m unhealthily obsessed with Jamie” nonsense is annoying af.

Claire’s reaction during this terrible nonsense, though... *throws more awards at Caitriona Balfe’s face*

Ok Joan’s adorable and Da!Jamie is lovely, but like, did we really need to spend this much time on this scene? I get it, Jamie loves the girls. Jamie really loves being a dad. But I’m just getting really annoyed that literally anything and everything keeps taking precedence over Claire, and fixing the relationship between her and Jamie.

“Well there are other redheaded men in Scotland, Claire.” Jfc, dude. Read the fucking room. Does this really look like the right time for sass? He’s been so hot and cold toward her it’s like fucking whiplash since she came back and now that his other marriage is out there he like can’t stop for a minute and fucking be serious with her? Fucking asshole.

“You’re the one that told me to be kind to the lass!” Go fuck yourself, Jamie. Do not throw this back on Claire. Claire asking Jamie to thank Laoghaire could be part of how Jamie rationalizes it being ok to marry her to himself, but to throw it on Claire like somehow that’s the equivalent of her giving her blessing is not a good look. Fucking own your damn choices, Fraser.

“I’m a coward. I couldn’t tell you, but I’ll totally twist your words so I can feel good about myself for marrying someone I know tried to kill you.” Yes. Jamie. You’re a fucking coward. Own that cowardice. Sit in that fucking cowardice. Don’t fucking say you’re a coward and then immediately try to throw the blame for the situation back on Claire. Own your fucking mess, dude. You fucked up. You need to work to fix that. Jfc.

Yaaas Claire, call him on his bullshit about leaving him. Call him on ALL THE BULLSHIT. Seriously her face though. *throws awards*

Ok don’t you mansplain your manpain at Claire, bro. She had 20 fucking years of manpain being mansplained at her and my girl deserves fucking better.

Really wish Claire would throw more back at Jamie. She still hasn’t gotten across to him just how hard things were for her. It really does seem like Jamie thinks he won the pain and suffering contest. (It’s not a contest, but it’s getting super old that he seems to think she just went back to this cushy life and sure, was sad, but because he was in prison and a cave and stuff he somehow has the moral high ground now.)

Claire spent 20 years not being able to speak. She spent 20 years just enduring a terrible situation and not being allowed to feel or grieve or be herself. Jamie needs to fucking hear that. Because how dare he think that she doesn’t know what it’s like to live without a heart. How fucking dare he. Fucking drag him, Claire. He needs to hear it and you need to say it. But of course we don’t get that. Because have you seen this season? Why would they start treating Claire well now. It’s only 8 episodes into a 13 episode season. Ugh.

I know Jamie’s like insecure and jealous and whatever but at some point who gives a fuck about Jamie’s manpain. Claire needs to say her piece and she still hasn’t been able to and I’m really annoyed about it apparently.

Also I really wish they cut them starting to rage bang and instead just had them yell more. Because they’re definitely not done yelling. Yes. They use sex to communicate, but rage banging isn’t going to make things better. Especially rage banging that isn’t welcome on Claire’s side at first. They haven’t done enough actual communicating yet. And by they, I mean Claire. Let Claire fucking speak, show.

Like oh hey, Jamie says he loves her, but like I’m distracted by Claire not wanting him to touch her and him still touching her? And you haven’t been acting like you love her, Jamie, so this line feels like the same lip-service as you saying you were a coward and then immediately punting blame?

Ok fuck Jenny very much for her little rant at Claire. Yes, it’s fucked up that Claire dropped off the face of the earth. And I get she had to see Jamie go through a ton of shit. But to just automatically be this much of a dick to Claire? Jfc. I’m so over everyone being a fucking dick to Claire. Claire needs a fucking spa weekend or some shit.

But ffs, why can’t they just tell Jenny and Ian the fucking truth. (If it happens next week I’m just going to be annoyed. They’ve set it up like 23985230589 different ways this week to do it. Just fucking do it.)

“I’m still the same person you fell in love with.” But you’re really fucking not, Jamie. That’s the whole fucking point. Ughhh, wtf.

Ok but where the fuck did Laoghaire get this gun? Like who gave her a pistol? (Yes, I know, it’s from the book. It’s still fucking stupid.) There has to have been a way to do the Laoghaire stuff in this episode that isn’t like dialed up to 11 on the crazy meter. Because this is just absurd.

Also wtf is with Claire’s like body check thing? Like push her away or something if you have to but like full on hockey checking her or whatever is dumb af?

Oh hey, Young Ian is being a cinnamon roll again about Claire’s surgical tools. Just going to enjoy that for a minute. Keep being adorable, Young Ian.

“You’re the only one who calls me [Auntie].” “Uncle Jamie’s lucky you’re here.” PROTECT YOUNG IAN AT ALL COSTS. GET HIM A WOLF PUP TO ASSIST WITH THIS.

Ok but wouldn’t Claire feel that Jamie has a fever when she’s checking his bandages? No? Ok, whatever. Moving on.

Jamie’s face when Claire’s giving him the cup makes me want to smack him a little. Like, dude, do you not know how much shit you’re in? Like his little smile and heart eyes or whatever he’s doing there makes it seem like he’s not taking the situation as seriously as he should be.

Making Jamie agreeing to marry Laoghaire be all about the kids is the only way it could possibly work even a little, I guess? Because yeah, Jamie wants to be a dad. A lot. But still, two minutes with rando children at a party is really not enough to then say you’ll spend the rest of your life with the crazy bitch you know tried to kill your wife in an effort to get you to love her. Also, there are approximately 29358238923598 smols running around Lallybroch and I’m guessing a fair number of other widows out there who aren’t fucking insane. Whatever. Jamie’s reasons for wanting to get married are all legit. But I’m still side-eyeing the choice of woman given what he knows about her. (Yes, it’s in the book. Yes, I still get to side-eye it. Yes, he’s still a fucking coward for not telling Claire sooner.)

“To care for Willie...or Brianna.” Cool that Bree’s still the afterthought. Cool cool cool.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of someone being afraid of my touch.” I still wish they would have found a way for the marriage to fail that didn’t involve Laoghaire being a victim of abuse, but given what Jamie went through at Wentworth, that’s a legit reason for him to leave. But like, if the whole thing was about the kids and him being a dad, wouldn’t he fucking move somewhere closer than fucking Edinburgh? I guess the kids don’t actually matter that much? This whole thing is a fucking hot mess.

OK BUT THIS CONVERSATION ON THE STAIRS WITH JENNY WHEN SHE’S TALKING ABOUT NOT KNOWING WHERE CLAIRE CAME FROM AND HOW SHE SAVED THEM WITH THE POTATOES IS THE PERFECT FUCKING TIME TO TELL JENNY THE FUCKING TRUTH AND GAH, WHY CAN’T YOU JUST DO IT. THIS IS APPARENTLY THE HILL I’M WILLING TO DIE ON.

Ned Gowan gets the award for having the correct reaction to seeing Claire again. Gold star for you, Ned Gowan. Ned Gowan, Young Ian and Fergus should start a club for people who aren’t dicks to Claire.

I’m here for Jamie not wanting Laoghaire transported because of the girls. I’d side-eye him like whoa if he wanted to go that route. But jfc, they can’t use that as leverage to lower the alimony? Like sure, send them some money so you don’t leave the kids hanging, but not the insane amount she was apparently asking for?

“I’m just not sure if we belong together anymore.” I hate that they end the episode like this, with no actual resolution between them. Like I’d like to think that Claire would never believe what she says, but jfc, she’s been treated basically like how Frank had treated her by pretty much everyone except Fergus and Young Ian since she got back. To the point where she’s fucking romanticizing the 20 years she spent just going through the motions and being basically emotionally abused by a vindictive husband. The fact that it doesn’t seem out of character for her to say she thinks it was a mistake kills me because jfc, sorry, but she deserves better than she’s gotten.

“I had a life.” Yeah, one where you were constantly told that you weren’t enough and that you were a horrible person.

“I didn’t hate Boston.” Girl. Listen to yourself. That’s how you phrase it when you’re trying to convince yourself it’s true. Not how you say it when you actually believe it’s true. (I know, she didn’t hate everything 100% of the time, but she’s still just trying to convince herself that what she had was better than it actually was because now that she’s back, she’s just getting more of the same BS thrown at her.)

“I had a career.” Yeah. You did. And you deserve to be around people who respect that and see how important it was to you.

“A home.” You really want to keep those rose colored glasses on about that, Claire? Seriously, I needed her to like lash out at Jamie about what it was really like for her because I still don’t think he fully gets it. Whatever. Le sigh.

“Friends.” Girl you had one friend. Which I guess is more than you have back here... #TeamJoe

Noticeably missing from Claire’s list? Fucking Bree. Wtf?

Can I just give Claire a hug? Because jfc, if someone has ever needed a hug in the history of hugs, it’s Claire.

“It wasn’t so bad, really, was it?” Yes. Yes it was, Claire. And fuck the show for dragging this out for yet another episode. Everything is still somehow Claire’s fault and Claire’s still just like flailing around, trying to be fucking seen and heard for once.

“When has it ever been easy.” Jamie, ffs, don’t brush off her pain like that. Can you just listen for fucking once to what she’s telling you. But nope. He gets like one romantic line per episode and apparently that makes everything cool? Blergh.

Oh hey, a random book line followed immediately by them getting interrupted so lol who cares about that failed emotional beat. I’m sensing a pattern, show. And it’s not one I’m enjoying. At all.

Also there’s no way that fucking ship pulled up its sails or whatever the actual term is that quickly and then dropped them again in the span of like two minutes.

So now we’re off to start the shipnanigans but still no fucking resolution between Jamie and Claire. Because why would you spend part of this episode with them actually working through their shit and coming to a new normal while they’re home at Lallybroch when you can save it for when they’re on a fucking ship in the middle of high seas adventure nonsense? Because lol #angst. Whatever. This is fine. Le sigh.

This show is fucking exhausting.

[mrsslrss]

2017

I rang in 2017 drunk and crying. I left a New Year’s Eve Party where all my friends and I drank down the clock and M and I went home, and I had been obsessed with “Love More” for a few weeks so as soon as we got back to the house I put it on over the stereo. Anyway about ten seconds in I started sobbing and I couldn’t, for the life of me, explain why. (I wasn’t even sad! It’s just such a beautiful song!) M just put his arm around me and kind of half-laughed and told me it was going to be okay in a quizzical but very convincing way and eventually I stopped crying and the song played itself out. I think that about sums it up.

Anyway I think we can all agree that 2017 was a weird year in a grand sense, which I don’t feel compelled or equipped to speak to. But it was weird in a personal sense, too. The year started in that mass of feelings for me; I dyed my hair pink; I lost someone I cared about deeply, which hurt in a place I didn’t expect or understand. The other side of that month was the Women’s March: housing twenty friends from Boston and Brooklyn and elsewhere in a spirit of earnest and viable and real solidarity that nearly broke my heart.

In the spring I worked a lot, and eventually got to travel across the country and fall in love with a couple different cities: New York (Life After Youth, celebrating my 25th); Seattle (Bois Naufrage, fancy coffee, riding the bus); Austin (freeways, rental car, KUTX, wildflowers). In the summer, Keeper put out a tape – bittersweet timing, just before Sam moved back to Texas – and I got a few days on the Cape with the crew. I worked weekends and drank green juice and read novels. In the fall I got really into that Fever Ray song and memorized the opening passage of The Argonauts and finally made it to DIA: Beacon.

Overall, I think, it’s been a head-above-water kind of year for me, where I mainly got caught in a cycle of exist-process-react-exist without creating much. I spent a lot of time thinking about my feelings but still can’t exactly mark the growth. Sometimes stillness is a sign of change, though; maybe I’ll count that one as a win. So here’s a list of 10 things (big and small!) that I saw, heard, watched, made, felt and loved in 2017, that helped me get through the year.

The Heart Season: “No”

Before this year became the kind of dumpster fire in which you hear everyday about new ways that powerful, prominent men treat the women around them terribly, The Heart was talking about consent in a genuinely nuanced, genuinely feminist way. The “No” season was four episodes long, during which host Kaitlin Prest stared down specific instances in her own life where consent’s gray area reared its fucked-up face, and explored where the experiences left her – how they influenced her sense of self, how they shaped and informed her future sexual (and non-sexual!) encounters. And then she broadened the scope, ignoring the easier narratives – “yes means yes,” “no means no,” “consent is sexy!!!!”, rhetorical devices so exhausted and exhausting – and instead asked harder, realer questions about the intersections of desire, fear, gender, pleasure, and autonomy. It gave me language I didn’t know I needed and set a model for a kind of audio storytelling I didn’t know was possible. I wish they played this at every college orientation across the country.

Turning The Tables

What if we appreciated women’s art apart from maleness entirely? What would it look like to tell the story of popular music through only women’s greatness? That was, crudely put, the mission of the list of the 150 Greatest Albums Made By Women that NPR Music published this year. Being part of this project was huge: it meant absorbing massive amounts of history, rethinking canon, getting to be an editor(!), working with some of my biggest professional idols. Mostly, though, it meant devoting much of my working life to the intersection of radical feminism and rock and roll. What a dream.

Drag

I was drawn to art that felt genuinely subversive this year, but it mainly played out in moments of surprise: disappointment from expectations I didn’t realize I held being left unmet; utter radiant joy when this need I didn’t know I had was fulfilled. Maybe the most memorable time it happened was in June, at GAY/BASH, a monthly experimental drag show in D.C. It was the first time I saw drag IRL, which would maybe have felt subversive no matter what – but probably few things would have matched watching a drag queen in a red white & blue housewife dress penetrate the eyeholes of a Trump mask with a strap-on. Incredible! Tell me you can watch that and feel unmoved. My friends and I went back to GAY/BASH every month after that. The music was always perfect: The Knife and Paramore and No Doubt and Cher, etc. But mostly what felt so powerful was the company: being in explicitly gay spaces full of gay and queer people, where abject expressions of sexuality and of gender trouble felt neither like threats nor invitations to violence.

There was also, of course, Sasha Velour, the cerebral art-queen who was crowned this year’s winner of Rupaul’s Drag Race. I saw her on tour with other season 9 queens this summer; her lip-sync of “Praying” by Kesha was perhaps, no lie, the most moving musical performance I saw in 2017. She embodied and embraced the reality so many of us face as women and queer people: victims and victors, agents and acted-on, mired in both hope and fear on a near-constant basis. It was transcendent. 

Ramen

On a less serious note, D.C. is, like many cities, in the midst of a ramen craze right now, and if I’m honest I spent an inordinate amount of the year benefiting from it! And from the fact that a few places will even deliver ramen right to your house if you have the right app! (Also, there’s a lot to be said about cultural appropriation, the devaluing of non-Western food traditions, etc. in these contexts; I am trying to keep learning and will leave the explanations to folks smarter than I.)

Tank And The Bangas

I called this band the “best band in America” all year and I meant it. Their Tiny Desk concert was both an exhale (after the stress of running the Contest itself) and an inhale (before an unrelenting and enthralling month of tour with them). I saw Tank and the Bangas perform eight times in 2017; their positivity never got stale, their exuberance never felt forced, their passion never wavered. They sound like no one else I know. Goddamn, I love this band. The best band in America!

Therapy

I went back to therapy this year after not really going since childhood but thinking about finding someone to talk to and being jealous of friends’ casual off-hand remarks about their therapists for years. I went mostly because of this thing that happened last December involving some brutal unkindness from a loved one that was so vicious yet unexpected it left me feeling startled and knocked off course, like having been shoved from a great height and, after shaking off the dust, finding myself very alone. I thought it was a minor disturbance but it actually burrowed pretty deep into me and I wound up freaked out about a bunch of stuff, so long story short: I finally found someone to talk to.

I will save my breath about how mental health care should be accessible and de-stigmatized. I will say that therapy made my year better in a lot of ways; mostly, in that I had a dedicated time and place to work, patiently, on some things that felt really paralyzing. (It also taught me some useful concepts, like the idea of psychological safety and the Buddhist teaching of the “second arrow,” which I then snuck into some of my favorite writing I did this year. Win-win.) Nothing is fixed, obviously; therapy has felt mostly like a drawn-out emotional root canal all year, which is to say, I still nurse the same ache that sent me. But I’m grateful and I am learning and it’s starting to feel less self-indulgent to want to address my bullshit. I recommend therapy to everyone! If you’re interested in talking to someone, here are some affordable resources.

Iced Americanos 

There are precious few things that get M out of bed early: the promise of imminent skiing; a genuine emergency; and coffee. I’ve relied heavily on the third one this year to squeeze in a half-hour of quality time with him before I go to the office. Listen I know this is cheesy as h*ck but it truly improves the overall quality of my day! Anyway the iced coffee at our corner coffee shop is not for me but the baristas take great care with their espresso shots so I started getting iced americanos instead and now I have been converted to an iced americano grrrl, even in winter (true to my New England roots). And a morning-coffee-with-your-boyfriend grrrl. Gross! I can’t help it.

Creative collaboration

Madeline Zappala is both a dear friend of mine and a total badass artistic inspiration to me. I was so glad she asked me to help edit her magazine, Reflections on the Burden of Men – and that she (and her co-creator, Laura) accepted a short piece I wrote about being disgusted by sexuality, or maybe more so by the insistence that women perform it for patriarchy, feeling isolated from my body, wanting to not want what I want. Editing the writing in the magazine was a dream! And watching it come together was so instructive. Go get a copy! (Or just pick up some unsolicited dick pic stickers, a real thing they made.)

2017 was a pretty exciting year for Keeper, too. Between January and August – when Sam moved back to Texas and Keeper became a project with a less coherent identity – we played amazing shows and put out a tape and met a lot of really lovely people. I learned a lot.

Female solidarity

I never got the appeal of using the phrase “work wife” to describe a lady BFF in your office before this year (too close to “girl crush,” which, I maintain, is basically homophobic; plus, who wants to replicate the capitalist heteropatriarchy of the marriage-industrial complex in your office friendships, of all places?!) but now I have two and I totally get it. There’s really something special about working alongside women like me, and having them be people who are willing to take a lunch break or walk to Starbucks (lol) so we can encourage each other through weird career stuff, or vent about male incompetence, or gush about new music, or interrogate what it means to care about feminism or justice or epistemology or whatever in 2017, which is mostly what we did. Some of the most enriching and important conversations I had this year were these; we often joked about the positions of authority we’d have, the raises we’d get, the articles we’d be assigned if only the People In Charge heard the conversations we had around cafeteria lunch tables!

Of course, there was also the mere fact of having lived with three other women throughout this year, creating a home that was a constant space for frank discussions about shared oppression; there were days of 8+ hours of GChat sessions that formed a virtual safe space; there were the year’s albums that spoke to the bizarre, incredible realities of womanhood. And all of this happening in the context of women coming forward about sexual assault, women journalists reporting on it, all of us whispering #MeToo on the internet. It was a year that, for me, fostered a consistent and palpable sense of solidarity among us. I needed it.

The “Thief” music video:  

Lastly: this is, maybe, the most wonderfully terrible music video I have ever seen. I first heard about this on the now-defunct podcast This Week Had Me Like, which I sorely miss, and now it’s rare that my housemates and I go more than a month without watching it communally. It’s histrionic in the best way, nonsensical, totally delightful. Thank you, Ansel Elgort.

[mrsbenedictbridgerton]

smut prompt: close friends that were always in love but never got the chance to be together (timing etc). They both know how the other feels, and with only one night left they decide to give in to what could have been, before they have to say goodbye to it (and possibly each other) for good. (one's getting married in the morning or something) Angsty smut! :D

Your wish is my command!

Also on FF.NET and AO3

A lingering glance. A soft smile. A desperate yearning that wouldn’t fade. So much communicated between them without a word. Emma sighs into her wine glass. There just isn’t enough time. There are so many things that remain unsaid between her and Killian. But her bags are packed and a cab booked for 8 am. She is leaving and it was too late. Best leave things unsaid.

The party is in full swing. After a year in London she has returned to essentially say goodbye to Storybrooke forever. Her temporary transfer is being made permanent. The life she has created for herself over there awaited. The new friendships she has formed. The small apartment that she would soon share with Simon.

Good, dependable, kind Simon.

She tries not to think of him as her eyes seek out Killian. He’s done a good job of avoiding her that night. He was still hurt, she knew. The way his face had gone cold when she’d told him she was leaving for good was something she would never forget.

He’d thought she was coming home. He’d thought-

She doesn’t want to dwell on that.

Tipping back her glass, she pulls on a practised smile and pushes her way through the crowd.

/

Leaving had been a childish thing to do. She knew that now.

It had been last summer. The gang had spent a weekend camping. Bugs, tents and campfires. It was everything she loved and more about living in New England. The scent of pine needles and wood smoke so vivid and evocative. Killian was there, of course. He was one of her closest friends. Had been, well, forever. Since they were teens.

But that’s it. Just friends.

All through their friendship one or the other of them had been in a relationship. Neal. Milah. Walsh. Tina . They were always there to be a shoulder to cry on when the other had relationship woes and pick up the pieces when they inevitably fell apart. There was never a chance of anything more. Timing, you know. Which is not to say she hadn’t considered it.

Killian was that good kind of handsome. Not intimidating in his beauty, but breathtaking all the same, with strong arms and a stunning smile. But he was more than that. As much as he was good looking, he was a good person and a good man. Real salt of the earth. That’s not to say he was perfect, but he had fought his demons and never made excuses for his mistakes. She admired that.

The week before the trip, Emma had finally ended her long running on/off relationship with Walsh O’Connor. Stretching over two years, with as much time on the outs as actually together, she’d finally grown tired of his lies and broken promises and was more than a little relieved when she’d actually caught him cheating and he had given her an excuse to end things. They were not right for each other at all, he’d just been… convenient, she guessed.

So that weekend, they were both single.

And that weekend had opened her eyes. She’d let herself think about what something between them could be like. And she liked what she saw. His easy smiles and warmth, the care he’d shown for her and their friends, his adventurous side that had him climbing trees and scrambling over rivers. He was just so very… something. The trip had kicked the dirt up on a whole bunch of feelings she’d never let herself think about.

Once home, she’d ruminated on those feelings for hours, before picking up her keys and driving to his place. The lights were on. She’d knocked on the door, her nerves jangled, not even quite sure what she was going to say.

Then she’d answered. Milah . Only a cotton sheet around her.

He’d been a few steps behind, their eyes met. She tried to hide her upset but it was impossible. She’s smiled and made up some bullshit excuse that she couldn’t remember before pretty much running to her car, blocking out the sound of him calling her name.

A week later a position in London became available. A fresh start. She had no ties, just an aching heart. So she said yes.

/

Later, the sky is dark. All the inky purple of the sunset has faded into black. She has a missed call from Simon but it is late, will be past midnight for him now, so she pushes the phone back in her pocket. Promises herself she will call in the morning.

Outside is quiet. Autumn is nipping at the heels of summer and most people are clawing at the warmth of the small house she had once shared with friends. They kept her room when she moved, always saying it was there, for when she returned. Because she had meant to.

But then burying herself in work and all the logistics of setting up somewhere new took over. She was busy - almost busy enough to forget her feelings for Killian, at least until he texted or emailed. Funny, he never mentioned that night. She didn’t ask. It was almost easy then to dismiss the little happy feeling whenever he messaged her. It was like that night hadn’t happened.

(Maybe she had dreamed it.)

And then Simon had came along and he was kind and caring and wanted to take care of her. So she let him. From there, it was easy to say yes to staying on, to believe that she could be really happy in London.

(Couldn’t she?)

She’s ruminating on that thought as she sips her rose.

“You alright, love?”

“Killian,” she whispers, without looking. She feels him take his place beside her on the decking, both resting a hand on the balustrade that runs along it. The garden is big, a perk of being on the outskirts of town, with a lush lawn heading down towards a small wooded area of trees and flower beds.

She clasps her hand tighter around the wine glass. “I’m good. The party is great. Thanks.”

“No problem. One of Storybrooke’s finest deserves the best of send offs.”

He looks her way, a lazy smirk on his lips, but his eyes are sad. They don’t rise up as they usually do when he smiles, they lack the lustre she always associates with him.

“I appreciate it.”

They let themselves drown in the white noise coming from the party behind them. He shifts a little closer and she automatically tilts her body, angling it towards his heat.

“Are you happy?” he asks, unexpectedly, placing his glass of rum - she knows it’s rum - on the railing.

“Um,” she fumbles, not really sure how to answer. She could ask him what he means - but she knows. She knows.

“I’m not unhappy,” she finally answers, feeling all the patheticness of that cop out.

She isn’t unhapppy . She likes her job, it’s challenging enough but gives her enough space to have a life. She likes her London apartment and all the quirky aspects of Britishness that she has discovered. There’s nothing bad about her current situation.

But maybe nothing great, her heart whispers.

“That’s not really an answer, is it?”

He turns, almost imperceptibly, until his hip nudges against her and his face is mere inches away. So handsome, as always, but even more in the half light- all shadows and angles. It is a face she knows so well, one she had seen wear a thousand expressions. But yet not this one.

This is a dangerous line of questioning, especially with the dancing around each other they had done for the past few days. She knows the honest answer, but saying it loud was risky and foolish. The time has passed- maybe it was never there after all-

“I’m content,” she settles for, looking past him at the little fairy lights that are strung amongst the bushes.

Maybe that’s it, the end of the conversation. That’s enough, right? To be content-

“I’m miss you,” he admits, his voice low and gentle.

Her heart sinks. It’s what she was afraid to hear.

Because now those clear waters that were leading her back to London are becoming muddy and uncertain.

But she can’t lie. “I miss you too, Killian.”

A hand slips to her waist, tugging her closer to his side. She hisses out a breath. It’s a little too much to process. She tips another mouthful of wine past her lips.

“Don’t go,” he whispers.

She tilts her head until it’s barely touching his shoulder. So much is being unsaid. She can barely stand it.

“I have to I,” she replies. She does. She’s made a commitment. People are depending on her-

Until she turns to look at him, sees in his eyes the same expression she knows she wears. It’s yearning and regret and so much missed opportunity.

Her hand snakes upwards, her fingers slipping around his neck. Her thumb brushes against his collarbone. She’s glad he’s wearing an open necked shirt. Blue, with the sleeves rolled up a little. It suits him. (It i s him.)

(She has missed him.)

“Don’t,” he repeats.

She thinks of London. Of the flight ticket sitting in her email account. Of the cases packed and the boxes that the shipping company will be picking up next week.

And Simon. He drifts through her thoughts.

It doesn’t stop her reaching up on her toes, urging his lips to hers, kissing him.

/

Waiting was torture. Pretending that everything was fine when inside her world was imploding. In the best way.

Their garden kiss had been brief. They both knew it wouldn’t end there. But there is a party and people and-

Thankfully he lives only a few blocks away, in a tiny little cottage that he’s rented for almost five years.

The party winds down, she sees him leave, she yawns, says she needs to sleep.

The remaining guests don’t notice that she actually slips away, her feet breaking into a run as she makes her way to him. His door is ajar, just a little. She tumbles inside. She’s breathing so hard; the running, the need for him.

He’s there a second later. Capturing her in his arms, pulling from her a kiss. But this kiss is different to their earlier one. It’s dirty and desperate and teeth and hands and tongues and-

They tumble backwards. She loses her shoes and jacket, his shirt is half unbuttoned before she grows impatient and tears at it, snapping buttons, bearing his chest to her. Her hands roam over his skin. His lips find her neck, his tongue tracing a trail that his teeth follow, his fingers tug at her pony tail until her hair falls over her shoulders.

She’s backed up against the little table in the hallway - the one where keys and little pieces lay. He lifts her onto it, her legs splay apart, she wraps her ankles around his thighs and leans into his kiss.

“Please,” she begs. She doesn’t know for what. Just more.

And more he provides. Her blouse is pulled away. He noses at the silk cups of her bra. “Christ, Emma,” he mutters into her skin, “I’ve wanted- so long-”

She knows. She understands.

They waited and waited until it was too late.

(It’s too late now. This is wrong and-)

(She doesn’t care.)

She loves his body. Lean, strong, he runs- she used to run with him occasionally. His skin is soft, the hair on his chest giving a delightful friction under her hands. His actions are making her burn up for him.

(It’s never like this with- no, she can’t think that-)

“Please,” she repeats, “I need-”

He knows. He understands.

His bedroom is mere paces away. He carries her like she weighs nothing. Kissing, touching, feeling- Every press of his fingertips leaving a burn.

Naked feels natural with him. Her clothes discarded in seconds. Then he works on his as she stands and watches. She wants to touch. He’s hard for her, thick and heavy - she imagines how he will feel, in her hand, inside her- He drags her hips closer, his erection between them, one hand holds her close, the other presses and caresses her breasts, just the right side of hard, enough for her to really feel.

Then he stills. She looks up. He’s watching her, his lips still damp and pink from their kiss. His hair ruffled.

“I-” he begins, then his brow furrows.

She knows. She understands.

“Shhh,” she whispers, pressing a fingertip against his lip. “Tonight,” she says. Not really sure what she means, but it seems enough. He nods.

It’s easy to fall onto the bed. To explore one another. Dips and curves, flat planes and softness. She gasps when his fingers dance between her legs, sliding over her, teasing at her, dipping into her dampness, twirling and twisting-

So she takes him, weighs him in her hands, bites her lips when a finger slides inside her, imagines it is another part of him. Her toes clench, she tightens her grasp. They rock into each other. Just a taste. A tease.

“God-”

“Fuck-”

“Just there-” she pants.

“Christ,” he groans, “I need-”

She needs it too. This isn’t enough.

She urges his mouth to her breast. She loves them to be touched and kissed- and he is, well, with him it’s- wow. Hands and lips and something beneath it all. She’s all twisted up, her body contorting.

“More,” she pleads.

He tilts up his head, burning blue catches her breath.

An understanding. A mutual need-

“More,” she says again.

He knows. He understands.

He pushes her further onto the bed. She licks her lips.

(She should be thinking clearly, condoms and- fuck. She’s on the pill. She trusts him.)

Stalking over her, caging her in with his limbs, he takes himself and runs his tip through her dampness. She shudders. Soft, hard, heat.  The slide that follows is quick - she’s so ready for him - a easy, fluid motion, and she’s full and it feels right and oh why, oh why did they wait-

(It’s too late now, isn’t it?)

Ebb and flow. Give and take. They move easily, the little kinks and missteps smoothed over. No awkwardness. Eyes locked on one another more often than not.

“This is- Emma-”

“Yes,” she cries, her teeth digging into his shoulder to stop her saying more.

Then she nudges him, pushing him onto his back. She wants to look at him, to see him as he comes.

Her her hips rock, his cock shifting so perfectly inside her, tilting forward so her clit receives a little pressure. Her breasts are within easy reach of his hands. He presses his thumbs against their peaks. She bites her lip.

So good.

Faster, she rocks; harder, she moves.

He pants and moans and she knows he is close. She wants to tip him over the edge.

“Emma, I’m-”

She can feel him trying to pull away. He’s there. She wants-

“Inside me,” she says, bending down to kiss him as he comes, swallowing his cries, grasping tightly onto his shoulders-

She’s dizzy and lightheaded-

His head falls back. Silence falls between them. Brief but sweet.

“Did you-?

She shakes her head. It wasn’t about that. She doesn’t care-

He’s kissing her again, rolling her over, slipping out of her, lips travelling down her body.

“Oh,” she gasps, when his tongue finds her, swollen and wet.

And it’s not hard for her to fall. It feels like she has been dropped from a height. The room is spinning. She can’t make out exact movements, just feelings. He’s insistent and relentless. She crumbles, curling upon herself.

“Killian!”

Every nerve fires, every muscle stretches.

/

It’s later. They must have dozed off, but it’s still dark. His hand is tangled in her hair. Her face nestled against his neck.

“Killian?” she whispers.

He sighs.

“I have to, you know, go.”

She feels him stiffen beside her.

“Just tonight,” she adds, to his unspoken question.

He trails his hand down her back, as if memorising her shape. Then he kisses her one more time. A kiss of meaning and regret.

“I’m sorry,” she apologises as she slips on her clothes, then before she can think again, she leaves.

/

He isn’t really sure how he managed to fall asleep again after she left. Maybe it was pure mental exhaustion. The past few days had been so hard. He’d hoped this was a real chance for them when she’d said she was coming home. He’d not stopped thinking about her the whole year she was gone. Then she was coming back, but then, she wasn’t.

She’d be gone, maybe forever.

He had to say something. Too many chances had passed to share how he felt, always thinking there would be another. He’d wanted to use words. He’d wanted to say it. I love you.

Instead, he’d loved her in another way.

He awakes, eyes bleary, heart heavy. He checks his phone. It’s 9am. No messages.

She’ll be on her way now. Back to him. The man he has never met yet feels so jealous of.

The pillow beside him bears her outline. His skin smells of her perfume. He knows he won’t wash for days. His sheets will stay the same for longer.

Yes, it’s foolish and crazy- but he can’t let this dream of her go. Not yet.

He pulls on some boxers and a t-shirt, decides he needs coffee. He needs to be busy today. To not think.

Maybe he’ll go to work, do some overtime.

He’s making a cup of tea, taking out a tea bag, filling the kettle when he hears it. A creak.

He stills, ears pricking up.

Soft footsteps.

It’s her . Face tired, hair pulled up on top of her head, baggy jeans and a hoodie.

She looks perfect.

“Sorry,” she whispers, pausing a few steps from him. “I left- I shouldn’t have-”

He’s beside her, pulling her to him, shushing her words.

“You’re here,” he says, “You came back.”

She snakes her arms around his waist, he holds her so tight. He never wants to let her go again.

They stay like that for an indeterminate amount of time. They sway into each other.

She looks up at him.

She loves him. She knows what love is. It’s never felt quite like this but she knows. She understands.

“I love you,” she tells him.

He runs his hand over her face, tracing its curves with his thumb.

“I love you,” he echoes, watching as a happy smile breaks out across her face. Wide and broad and real-

So he kisses her. How many kisses have they now shared? He’s lost count. It just feels so natural. So right.

She pulls away. A hand on his chest. A speech she practised on the way over, melting into a few words. “This will be complicated. London… Simon.”

In all this, it’s her regret. He doesn’t deserve this.

“I know,” he promises, “I understand.”

A kiss on her cheek, he leads her to his little kitchen table, places the kettle on the hob.

“First, tea?”

She nods. She smiles.

She knows there is so much to do, so much to decide.

But one thing at a time. One thing at a time.

[blooming-blooming]

Saw I - VII: A Comprehensive View

This is something I don’t normally do, but have been meaning to do for a while when I consume a large series of media in a short period time. I figured this was the perfect opportunity to start.

As of recently, I’ve realized that I am a fan of horror. Like, a really, really big fan of horror. I’ve always flirted with my fascination of it (The Green Ribbon had more of an impact on me in the walls of my elementary school library than it probably should have on an 8 year old, in hindsight), but I never really knew where to go about getting into the genre until I started dating my girlfriend, who has horror as a special interest.

Growing up in the 2000’s with an older sister that was going through her middle school goth phase when the first film in the franchise came out, it was hard not to know about Saw. Such an iconic franchise I knew very little about past the gore (and, let’s be real -- I’m a huge fan of gore); so me, my girlfriend, and a friend of ours decided to spend my last weekend of Summer marathonning all 7 movies. Both of them had seen the first two films and we’d all read plot summaries, but besides that, it was a blind watch through. Here’s my brief stance on each one.

Altogether, I was surprised at just how much I enjoyed this experience. I was expecting to mostly suffer, and maybe find some small nuggets of enjoyment along the way to keep me going, but after every movie (except III), I found myself wanting to watch the next one right away. These movies are by no means good movies, for the most part, but they’ve become a guilty pleasure for me. Among all the egregious, torture porn-y gore and a plot that beyond transcends making even remote sense, I found myself having a lot of fun. And, at the end of the day, that’s the purpose of a cash cow franchise like this was: to entertain you. In that regard, the Saw franchise succeeded.

Saw (2004)

The first in the franchise, and the most iconic. We’ve all heard of the reverse bear trap and the part where Gordon cuts his foot off.

I didn’t know what to expect when I dove into this movie, and I was very pleasantly surprised. The atmospheric building is top notch, and the twist at the end has much more impact than I expected it to. I enjoyed the tension and distrust between Adam and Gordon; I felt it was just as realistic of an approach for them to never trust each other as it would have been had they slowly learned to trust each other.

What’s really important in this one, though, which every sequel lacks, is Kramer’s portrayal. He’s not painted as philosophical or in the light, he’s painted as downright sadistic and cruel. The fact that he isn’t a murderer in the absolute broadest sense of the term is only ever mentioned by Gordan, and not constantly used as a justification for him. His cancer is only ever brought up to give him a connection to Gordon and Zepp; not something to make the viewers empathize.

This especially makes the final scene, the one where he stands up, have so much more impact: “The key was in the bathtub,” and Adam’s subsequent reaction is the ultimate punch in the stomach to the viewer because it’s so evil. The entire time Adam thought he had a chance, that there was a spot of hope for him, only to have it viciously jerked away as he realizes he was damned from the beginning. Because this is a franchise with a narrative built entirely on retconning, this impact is diminished severely in later installments, but as a standalone film, it’s top notch.

Also, apparently the ship name for Gordon and Adam is “Chainshipping”. I have no idea how that, of all ship names, wasn’t taken by the YuGiOh fandom at least a decade ago, but I’m mildly impressed that a ship that obscure has a name at all.

Overall score: 8/10

Saw II (2005)

The second installment in the franchise. It’s worth noting that the original screenplay wasn’t intended to be a Saw film, but rather an original story that got adapted to work into the Saw universe.

The story follows eight people who have all been locked in a house. The doors will open and they’ll be free in three hours, but there’s just one problem: there’s a neurotoxin in their systems that will kill them in two. They need to work together to find out what their connection to one another is while overcoming challenges to gain antidotes to the neurotoxin before they die. Meanwhile, a police team lead by detective Eric Matthews has located and is interrogating Kramer on the location of Matthews’ son, Daniel, one of the eight people in the house.

Right off the bat, the drop of quality from the first movie is extremely apparent. Very few members of the cast are properly developed, and many die before they even get to their trap. Most notably, one of the characters, Obi, is an arsonist who is very heavily implied to be an accomplice of Kramer’s. This aspect is explored for all of about two minutes before he gets burned alive in an incinerator. It’s hard to get invested because there are too many characters who have nothing going for them.

Despite that, there are good things about the film. The needle pit scene is well done in just how tense and unfair it is. Likewise, the twist at the end that the house game happened before the police found Kramer is really creative and interesting. Sadly, these positives don’t make the movie worth watching overall, though.

Overall score: 4/10

Saw III (2006)

I honestly don’t know what to say. This was the worst movie I have ever watched in my entire life. Sadism and cruelty in a story should have a narrative purpose and should ultimately be shown to be bad, but it’s not here. You are honest to god supposed to think John Kramer, the serial killer who took one of his victims, a mentally ill recovering drug addict, and brainwashed her to carry out his torture with him, is in the moral right when said victim finally lashes out. You’re supposed to think it’s cool when Amanda, who has been deliberately manipulated and abused by this man, gets told she couldn’t meet up to his standards. You’re supposed to think she deserved her death for being “irrational” when she calls Kramer out on his bullshit, hypocritical, half-assed “philosophy”. Fuck that. Fuck that so hard with a stake wrapped in barbed wire.

Also, the dad was an unsympathetic piece of shit and all of the traps weren’t violent in a way that was thematically appropriate (minus the crucifix one, but that one was disturbing for a million other reasons, anywways, so who the fuck cares if it was good conceptually), they were just gross. I have never wanted to unwatch a movie as badly as I wanted to unwatch this one immediately after finishing it in my entire life.

HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT FOR YOU. HATE. HATE.

Overall score: -∞/10

Saw IV (2007)

Lord knows why I decided to continue watching these movies after the misanthropic, nihilistic, faux-philosophical sack of trash that was III, but I’m surprisingly glad I did. I feel like I could just say, “A pedophile dies one of the single most brutal deaths known to man, and a man who abuses his wife and daughter has a terrible death, too,” but that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what makes this movie amazing.

This is the first film where Kramer is dead (or so we’re lead to believe), however, Amanda is dead, too. So the franchise needs a new accomplice retconned in to take over after this film when Kramer and Amanda are dead For Real. Enter detective Hoffman, who had a grand total of one line of dialogue in III, to take that spot.

The plot and pacing of this film is stupid. And when I say stupid, I mean stupid. Everything is so ridiculously convoluted with multiple plot lines and involvement in the FBI that I honest to god could not describe to someone what happens. And, somewhere along the way, the film goes full circle. It becomes so ridiculous, so hard to follow, that it becomes brilliant. It’s so convoluted that you can’t help but laugh at the absolute absurdity of it all. This movie is a shitshow, but it’s an entertaining shitshow.

Overall score: 3/10

Saw V (2008)

The first film where Kramer and Amanda are Dead For Real, following the fallout from the incidents of Saws III + IV. FBI Agent Peter Strahm is onto Hoffman’s identity, and is deadset on bringing him to justice. Meanwhile, five people are trapped in a sewer and need to learn what connects all of them, and also go through some traps to attract viewers to theaters because nobody would see this otherwise.

This film is ultimately disappointing because it could have been good. All five contestants in the sewer game are really interesting, and it takes the concept of II and fixes up the ideas from it. Sadly, this cast and their story gets even less development than those in Saw II. I’m not joking when I say that they’re only there for the sake of a murder game to attract viewers; 90% of the film is focused on a boring game of cat and mouse between Strahm and Hoffman. It’s really a shame, since I absolutely love the twist at the end that they were supposed to work together for all of the traps and none of them had any idea until it was too late. It’s a concept I might make something of my own with, since I’d really love to see it done well and properly developed.

Overall score: 2/10

Saw VI (2009)

This movie is, quite frankly, surreal. I’m not sure if all of the previous sequels simply wore down my standards for what is or isn’t a high quality movie, but this film was legitimately fantastic.

A very common criticism for this movie is that it is far too political for a franchise that is known for just being senseless gore -- and it’s true, especially because of how hypocritical it is that a franchise based entirely around killing/punishing people for arbitrary reasons is making social commentary on the insurance industry deciding who deserves to live based on arbitrary reasons. Despite that, though, there’s something about it in this film that works so well.

The storytelling in this movie is the closest any of the sequels get to matching the quality of the first film. Following protagonist William Easton, the CEO of an insurance company that is notorious for rejecting potential clients coverage when needed or prematurely terminating contracts, he is lead through several traps where he is forced to put value on the lives of his employees. Meanwhile, Hoffman is dealing with the consequences of trying and failing to frame the now-deceased Strahm for his crimes.

I really don’t know what to say about this film other than it’s bizarrely well done. The Merry Go Round trap is my favorite trap in the franchise (after my Number 1 Hall of Fame favorite, The Bed Trap from IV, anyways); the direction of the arguing employees begging for life and Easton ultimately leaving his second choice up to chance just so he can get it over with is handled chillingly well. A lot of people find the twist diminishing to Easton’s storyline, but I disagree. The fact that the game was never Easton’s and was always the wife and son of one of the people his company was responsible for the death for reminds me a lot of the first film in a good way. It has the same cruelty to it that is satisfying because it works within the narrative; just because Easton realized the errors of his ways in an extreme situation does not mean the people he has hurt in his practices have to forgive him. This is pointed out as such in both Tara and Brent’s dialogue as they make the choice in the end to kill him. It’s just as appropriate of a response as if they let him live.

This is also the first (and only) movie where I even find myself interested in the extended “plot” throughout all seven movies; Hoffman has completely screwed himself over, and it’s surprisingly suspenseful to watch him try and crawl himself out of his hole.

Overall score: 7/10

Saw VII (2010)

Overall score: Torture porn/10

[teenageangstpaidoffwell-blog]

April 2019-June2019

If you ever feel like you can’t do something or feel powerless in a situation, look back and remember every thing you had to deal with the past three months.:

-Loss of full time employee (I guess she was mad they wouldn’t give her the raise she didn’t deserve but asked for anyway...) so we hired one person to replace. 

-Loss of part time employee. Hired a new associate. She told us she was giving Aldo her two week notice. She texted me the morning of her first day (FIRST DAY!) and called off. Never heard from her again after I texted her back. Had to scramble to hire another person and worked 6 days a week through the entire month of April. Worked 180 hours but was paid for 160 hours. 

-Had two people complain about me to my DM. Said I was spending too much time in the back and didn’t seem motivated. Oh, excuse me, I’m only doing EVERYTHING to make the store run BY MYSELF. 

-Loss of another full time employee. He complained about me to corporate because of a miscommunication involving overtime pay. We ended up firing his ass, thank god. Unfortunately it led to me working more. 

-Hired and trained 4 new people. Had no access to hire them through the system. Called help desk probably 50 times over the course of two months to get them hired. It was so annoying and super complicated. 

-Posted 3 different ads on Indeed to get people hired. Called countless people to schedule interviews. Conducted about 30-40 interviews over the course of two months to find people. 

-All the Monday stuff- email, boards, schedule, switching monthly box, creating monthly schedule, creating monthly sales goals, updating goals in the system, AOP, completing touchbases for everyone, keeping everyone motivated, training 4 fucking people, ALL BY MYSELF

-Oversaw new lighting being installed - constant phone calls, had to reschedule them to come back in and re-position the lights.

-Printer stopped working for a week. We had to turn it off and turn it back on each time we wanted to print something (at least 10 times a day). Had to order and schedule someone to come out and install the new printer. 

-Floorset execution- we did 4 floorsets in the month of May. I completed 2 almost by myself. 

-One floorset was due on a Monday, we had a visit from our regional on Tuesday. I worked a 12 hour day to finish the floorset. I lost my cool and ended up crying in front of DM and RM because I was so OVERWHELMED. She was nice about it but it was super embarrassing. I then had to stay and take floorset photos after they left. Hauling out a huge ladder while store was open and taking photos a specific way. 

-AC stopped working and we were without it for 4 days. Constant complaints from employees and had to do a floorset in a hot store. 

-Sinks were clogged, scheduled someone to come fix.

-Rugs are torn, picked up gorilla glue.

-ISP computer stopped working one day. Spent the day on the phone with help desk to get it working again. 

-Camera monitor stopped working right. Scheduled maintenance for someone to come repair it. He says he has to wait and get it approved through corporate.

-Idiot customer issues.

-Had to write up an associate already after he’s been there one month because he has already been tardy three times. He also called off Mother’s Day weekend which was mandatory (gave me a doctor’s note that looked like it was in his handwriting) and thinks that I can’t see through his bullshit lies. 

-Rushed out of bed today because another new person sucks. She called off because her boyfriend’s car got towed and had no way to work. I was supposed to be off today, but had to rush in and work the morning for her. 

I am so done. I need a vacation, 5 straight days of sleep, and all the wine. 

June 24th can’t some soon enough. (Welcome back, Sarah, aren’t you so glad to be here?) :P

edit:

June 10, 2019

Just when I thought I was on easy street, the universe decided I hadn’t had enough. Today Ben called and quit over the phone. Oh, and did I mention that the new girl we hired did two no call no shows last week? Super cool. 

SO. Now I get to work 47 hours this week with unpaid overtime and 12 days in a row. I seriously hope karma hits him hard. I hope karma gets every single asshole that left and every single asshole (well only one) that makes me feel like it’s pulling teeth to get them to cover a fucking shift. If I didn’t enjoy the job, I would have left already. We shall see how the next few months go and if it’s not good, then I’m looking elsewhere. I’ve dealt with more shit than what most people can handle. 

[shawnjacksonsbs]

Not the direction I thought  it was headed, but from the heart.      9-3-17

“If you find yourself constantly trying to prove your worth to someone, you have already forgotten your value.” - Anonymous

Hmm, what to write about today. . . .

It’s been a pretty exhausting week, mainly because of work. It was a good week though, for me anyways. I mean my usual helper at work got sick on Monday and was out all week. He is doing a bit better now though, released from the hospital, and I believe he will be returning to work on Tuesday. I am working tomorrow, but it’s not going to put me ahead, because I’m taking Friday off. The boys, the cousin, and I will be in Portland for the comic-con. It has been months in the making. COMIC-CON!! I won’t have any real money to spend there like I did last year, because of the all the outgoing funds I have going on, with helping my kids and their struggles. Which reminds me;

As most of you know, my one son arrived last weekend and is settling in. Still has plenty of things to get in order as far as mentally, physically, and occupationally. Lol But he is doing ok, and it will all come with time. I am so glad I’m at a place where I can be of actual help. My other loved one that I spoke of briefly last week, also has some struggles.

My help for the legal end is probably going to come in the form of an attorney, who just so happens to be the brother of a friend of mine. A friend, who, because she works for probation and parole, is not someone I would have even imagined being a true friend and ally before I got right. Synchronicity comes in weird forms and references sometimes, at least for me, but I see them. I know they are out there, and I am “conscious” enough these days to realize that, and I try do not take them for granted.

Back to my point though. Two things struck a chord with me this week. The first thing which directly relates with my loved one’s legal issues. Simply put, it’s a drug charge. I decided to take out a loan to cover the retainer fee for an attorney, the one I mentioned above. Now, I recently found out that my work has started a program to loan money to full time employees and the payment will be a regular weekly deduction. This, I thought, would be an incredible help. No interest, automatic deductions, etc.

The only perquisite is approval for the amount from the boss, and I had to pass a drug screen. Needless to say, I was thrilled. I can pass drugs tests all day, every day. I don’t think I get dropped on enough. Lol I know that was a lot of explanation for a very small point. It’s just the irony behind having to be off drugs to help with a drug issue. I’m that guy now. Although obviously, I would rather none of it be necessary, that is not how things turned out.

I am grateful I can help, and that I work for such an awesome company with such great people that are there for me. Never thought my life would be what or where it is today. I can’t imagine ever living any differently inside my own head again.

The other thing that hit me, came after a conversation with someone that I have had numerous times, which is one of those ideas that I believe in, but at the same time will probably never be tested. The fact that I don’t have to prove anything to anyone, including and excluding myself anymore is freeing. To explain what I mean is a twofold.

First, a lot of what I use to think I needed to prove to others, was probably more my self-inflated ego than anything else. Thinking that life had to be certain way, and that I had to keep up that specific image, in the end was all bullshit really. Proving to me, and of the ideals that old me carried over, (like my moral code being made up of a lot of “street” rules, some which are still in my mindset, and others have been since weeded out.) Like someone who hurts or abuses someone I care about-well, I think we know where I stand on that. Hope I don’t run into you somewhere, because it won’t be pretty.

Things like snitching, although my position on using this to help yourself isn’t something I agree with, mainly because it defeats the principle behind the learned behavior. But if you think for a second I wouldn’t throw some idiot under the bus to save my child, you got me fucked me up and I would have no plex about, no second thoughts to be had. I sincerely don’t care any longer about what most people think about things like this. I know in my heart what I value most in the world, so . . . Hope that made sense.

Now excluding myself means the new me. The value system I hold now, which is some old but mostly new, and the life in my heart I will cling to until my death if I can, and which doesn’t need as much reassurance that my decisions are ok, because my heart and mind are more in sync than they have ever been. This me, although always trying to be more open-minded and openhearted, is who I want to be for the rest of my life. It would take quite a bit of convincing to sway a lot of what I hold onto and believe in these days, because I feel I finally found what’s right, and I can feel it in how it affects my life directly, in such positive ways.

It’s not that hard to know what’s right, and to do what you feel is right, within your means. It gets easier for me to just “know” with each passing day. I no longer have to argue or prove anything to anyone else, and the little inner conflicts are becoming so scarce that they are almost obsolete.

I think I may have taken this in a slightly different direction than I originally intended, but. . . .my heart and mind in word form are what helps me. And whether or not anyone agrees or disagrees is completely irrelevant, so long as I stay this course. I feel like most people can see, feel, understand, and some can even relate more than at any other time in my life. I where my heart on my sleeve a lot, which helps in this as well.

I feel like most people who know me today, would all give a similar-positive response if asked “who is Shawn Jackson”. I don’t have to be a different person to different people anymore. It’s a great feeling. I love my life, and I care more about me than I ever used to, and I feel that it shows through in how I care about others.

Thank you all for continuing to read my bullshit. I love you guys. Remember to keep sharing the love and the laughter with all those in your life.

Until next week;

“Self-worth is so vital to your happiness if you don’t feel good about you, it’s hard to feel good about anything else.�� - Sandy Hale

[ddproductionsw77]

The Lucky Ones Pt. 1 (Riarkle AU Two-Shot)

Fandom: Girl Meets World

Pairing(s): Riarkle (Mainly), Markle (Kinda…?)

Characters: Riley Matthews, Farkle Minkus, Maya Hart, Stuart Minkus, and Jennifer Bassett Minkus

Rating: T with a strong language advisory.

Prompt from lucasfriarfan: Farkle Minkus, the young and newly appointed Head of Minkus International, has just married middle-class, all-American Riley Nebula Matthews and she’s quite the packaged deal… Can free-spirited, kind-hearted Riley play her new role of impeccable, wealthy housewife? Or will she break under the pressure to be perfect?

Author’s Note: Planning for this one to be a two-shot so look out for part 2 of you enjoyed :) Also, trying out a new format for just this two-shot, let me known what you think

*Breaking News Music Plays*

Anchor One: This just in! Newly christened CEO of Minkus International, Farkle Minkus, is what? That’s right, he’s married!

Anchor Two: Minkus was reported to be romantically tied to a civilian reporter for the New York Times over a year ago and it was announced via the Minkus International PR office that over the last weekend, the young bachelor tied the knot this his secretive, long-term girlfriend.

Anchor One: With the marriage announcement, however, came a full public introduction to the new Mrs. Minkus.

Anchor Two: New Mrs. Matthews-Minkus, actually. She’s a hyphen-er, apparently. According to social media platforms and released intel, Farkle married an average, all-American girl. Born to a middle-class family and growing up in public schools, Riley Matthews-Minkus isn’t exactly who most would have expected to snag one of the most eligible bachelors in New York.

Anchor One: *Laughs* I feel like that might be putting in lightly.

Anchor Two: Matthews-Minkus is an outspoken liberal, having participated in several marches for the Woman’s Movement and actively speaking out about several other controversial topics.

Anchor One: She’s also been terminated from several news media outlets for her strong political views and ideology.

Anchor Two: Honestly, I can’t wait for the matriarch of the Minkus family, Jennifer Bassett-Minkus, to come out and just say, “What was my son thinking?” Oh, come on! We’re all thinking it!

Anchor One: The girl is a loose canon. No one knows anything about her! And how is she supposed to compete? This is the New York high society we’re talking about, not some public school. She’ll flop in a month and then all we’re be hearing about is her first stint in rehab.

Anchor Two: *Laughs* Oh, stop it!

Anchor One: Mark my words; rehab in a year and divorced in two.

Texting Conversation Between Honey and Peaches

Peaches: So…

Peaches: How ya holding up, Riles?

Honey: I’m fine, Maya.

Peaches: Riley

Honey: I mean, I just don’t get it! They have no idea who I am! They don’t know anything about me and Farkle! And they can still just write us off as ‘rehab in a year and divorced in two’?

Honey: It’s bullshit.

Peaches: Damn, my girl is hot and bothered. I’m kinda proud, to be honest ; )

Honey: I’m tired, Maya. Not really in the mood.

Peaches: What did the Nerd say?

Honey: Maya, what did I say about calling my husband that?

Peaches: Not recalling at the moment.

Honey: He said the same thing I am. It’s bullshit…and that he loves me.

Peaches: Gag

Honey: Maya!

Peaches: Who cares what they say?

Peaches: They. Are. Assholes. Honey. Without any lives of their own.

Peaches: Who cares if you grew up without all of the money and Farkle practically bathed in it?

Peaches: You and Dweeb are perfect for each other, anyone with a brain can see that.

Honey: Farkle’s Mom doesn’t.

Peaches: Like a said, WITH A BRAIN

Talk-Show Host: Okay, okay, Jennifer, you know I have to ask…

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: Oh here we go!

Talk-Show Host: So, you’re a mother-in-law now? What was your reaction to that? Especially with a daughter-in-law like…well, like Riley Matthews.

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: Honestly?

Talk-Show Host: We’re all friends, here, Jennifer!

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: Well, my first thought was ‘Oh god, he knocked her up’

*Crowd laughs*

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: It’s true! I mean, sure he’d been running off with her from time to time for months but it wasn’t serious!

Talk-Show Host: It wasn’t? So, How did they end up married?

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: *Scoffs* I love my son, but he’ll do anything to prove a point. Even marry some low-class, bed-buddy of his just to show me and his father that he can *raises her hands to use quotations* ‘make his own choices’. Please.

Talk-Show Host: Oh my. So I can assume you and the daughter-in-law…?

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: We don’t see eye-to-eye.

Talk-Show Host: But this is the girl your son picked. Obviously, he wants to spend the rest of his life with her?

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: They ‘dated’, if you can even call their little hook-ups and late night booty calls that, for a year. He doesn’t even know her, he’s just under her spell.

Talk-Show Host: Do you think Ms. Matthews, sorry Mrs. Matthews-Minkus, has ulterior motives for marrying into your family?

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: Does the sun shine, sweetie? Of course, that little leech has another motive. She’s been poor her whole life and a rich boy looked her way! Can you really expect anything else from her kind of people? I mean, the girl’s best friend has a police record, for god’s sake!

Talk-Show Host: Are you giving us an exclusive, Jennifer!?

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: *Shrugs* Oh sure! Why not? *Leans forward* She grew up with this little delinquent named Maya Harris or Hart or something like that. And this girl! Let me tell you, I’m positive she stole some silver the first time Farkle brought the pair of them around. And the manners, you would not believe!

Talk-Show Host: Oh my god!

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: I know! What was my son thinking?

Talk-Show Host: Maybe he thinks he’s really in love?

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: And maybe he is, I don’t know. But I do know one thing; it’s not going to last. She and her little BFF are a phase and I’ll be glad to see them both go.

Talk-Show Host: Well… that’s all we have time for tonight. Thank you! Jennifer Bassett-Minkus, everyone!

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus: Oh no, thank you!

Phone call between Farkle Minkus and Jennifer Bassett-Minkus

*Riiiing….Riiiing….Riiing*

Jennifer: Jennifer Bassett-Minkus speaking.

Farkle: Mom. What the fuck was that?

Jennifer: Farkle, I have about a million things going on my life right now that do not revolve around you; you’ll have to be more specific.

Farkle: Bullshit, you know exactly what!

Jennifer: If you’re going to continue to curse like this, I’m just going to hang up. Not that I’m particularly surprised, considering the company you keep.

Farkle: That, Mom. That right there is what I’m talking about. Spouting crap about Riley and Maya? You cannot go on live television and talk about my wife that way!

Jennifer: Truthfully, you mean?

Farkle: Not a word of that was the truth and you know it! You made Riley cry, Mom! She locked herself in the bedroom, sobbing, and I can’t get her to come out!

Jennifer: Perhaps your wife, as you insist on calling her, should grow some thicker skin. What I said is nothing compared to what the tabloids and the tweets and the public will say.

Farkle: Yeah, but they don’t know Riley! You do! You know better.

Jennifer: You’re right, Farkle. I do know Riley better, but apparently, you don’t. You are just so caught up in this girl! She’s a parasite, Sweetie! How do you honestly not see that?

Farkle: *Long Pause* Mother, I’m going to ask you very politely, which you don’t deserve, to never say that again about the woman that I love. Please, don’t do that again?

Jennifer: Would else would you call something that latches on to a better, more powerful organism with the sole purpose of bleeding it dry? Because that’s her plan, Farkle, whether you want to see that or not.

Farkle: And what about you, Mom? Hmm? Don’t you think you’re being at all hypocritical?

Jennifer: What’s that supposed to mean?

Farkle: You and Dad? You got married six months before I was born! That’s why you figured Riley had to be ‘knocked up’, right? Because that was your plan?

Jennifer: How dare you?!

Farkle: ‘How dare I?’ How dare you, Mother?

Jennifer: You have no idea what you’re talking about, Farkle! And even if you’re little theory was right, I still belonged in this life. Riley Matthews does not. She never will.

Farkle: I- I can’t even talk to you anymore right now. Bye.

Jennifer: Farkle-

*Dial tone*

What Makes a Woman Powerful?: A Closer Look at New York’s High Society

By: Riley Matthews-Minkus

What makes a woman powerful?

In today’s society, with a new social conflict every other day and a government that just loves to turn a blind eye, I think it’s a fair question.

Is it her beauty?

Because socialites, like Jennifer Bassett-Minkus, are definitely beautiful. The woman stands regal and tall, dominating any room she graces with her presence. Her blonde hair distinguishes her in a crowd and those eyes tell tales of wisdom that go far over the heads of those beneath her.

Is it her intelligence?

Jennifer Bassett-Minkus is incredibly intelligent. Honestly, it bewildered me upon my first meeting with the woman. She easily articulates herself such a way that you feel, without question, that she is smarter than you. Odds are that she is. She’s Harvard educated, you know, and married to a man that most of America agrees in one of the most brilliant minds to walk amongst us today. She’s the mother of the ‘Next Einstein’.

Is it her morals?

See, this is where I find an inconsistency in the data.

Because Jennifer Bassett-Minkus has no morals. She does not sympathize with those less fortunate than her. She does not care that millions in her country work nine-to-five, minimum wage jobs and still cannot feed their families. She does not fight or speak for those too fearful or unable to speak for themselves.

But she’s still powerful.

No one, especially not you, dear reader, can dispute that.

You see her style and you mimic it.

You watch her choices and you trust them

You listen to her words and you believe them.

Without fail, without independent thought, because she’s Jennifer Bassett-Minkus and she’s powerful, so you mimic, you trust, you believe.

So it is not morals that make a woman powerful, but that doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t be.

A new generation of women is coming into power. Women who do care about the poor. Women who do give their own resources just so that another may suffer less. Women who fight like hell and don’t back down just because someone else feels that they should be seen and not heard.

Those are the women to mimic. Those are the women to trust. Those are the women to believe in.

Root for them!

Stop being so enamored by women like Jennifer Bassett-Minkus and start looking to the ones that have morals, that have love and fire in their souls.

Because here’s the real secret, so read carefully: You, those who view her, give a woman power.

Stop giving power to Jennifer Bassett-Minkus and start giving it to the right women!

Dear Mrs. Matthews-Minkus,

I regret to inform you that the major media outlet of the New York Times has decided to terminate your employment.

You are, without question, a very talented journalist and we are very grateful for the work you have done for use in these three years. However, you are aware that there have been several times where you were explicitly told not to voice an opinion or viewpoint and did not heed that warning.

You were warned. You were given an explanation. Nevertheless, you persisted.

This cannot be tolerated and your recent personal attack on Jennifer Bassett-Minkus was the last straw. The article was incredibly inappropriate for you to publish, as the subject’s daughter-in-law, and filled with information that has no ground nor evidence. You are lucky Mrs. Bassett-Minkus has no decided to press libel charges.

You have become a liability to the establishment and this cannot continue.

You are hereby official terminated from your position of Senior Journalist at the New York Times

Sincerely,

Jessica Denmen Personal Assistant to the CEO of the New York Times

Texting Conversation between My Babe and My Love:

My Babe: Are you busy at work?

My Love: Never too busy for you…

My Love: Why?

My Babe: I just… really need you right now.

*Riiing…Riiing…Riiing*

Riley: I’m fine! Really, I just really miss you and if you’re too busy, I under- *Breaks into a sob*

Farkle: Riley… What happened?

Riley: They, uh, they fired me. So, now I am your unemployed, rehab-bound, personal slut-turned wife. *Takes a deep breath* God, I don’t know what to do anymore! It’s never going to get better, Farkle! She’s always going to hate me and, you know, maybe she’s right? We both know I don’t fit in with those people, in that world.

Farkle: So what?! Riley, you fit in with me and you are the center of my world. You can do this! We can do this! Who cares what a bunch of dicks with silver spoons up their asses think?

Riley: *Sigh* Can you- can you just come home?

Farkle: I’m already on my way, Babe.

Riley: Farkle?

Farkle: Yeah?

Riley: I love you.

Farkle: And I love you. How does Italian sound for dinner, by the way? And Ben & Jerry’s for dessert?

Riley: Fuck, you are truly perfect.

Anchor One: This just in! The entirety of the Minkus Family Trust has been drained, leaving the family to live solely of off their profits from the Minkus International company.

Anchor Two: Currently, it is believed Riley Matthews-Minkus, recently fired from the New York Times, is behind the hack and subsequent theft of the Minkus family. It is unknown at this time whether or not the family will move to press charges against Matthews-Minkus.

Anchor One: Both Farkle Minkus and Riley Matthews-Minkus were unavailable for comment.

And that is the first part of The Lucky Ones! Experimenting with this format for this two-shot, do you like? Do you hate? Let me know! Kisses!

Current Coming Soon List:

Missed Moments of Pluto and Mars (A Future Snapshot Collection Companion)

Birthdays, First Times, and Letters from Princeton (A Future Snapshot)

The Electronic Configuration of Hate and Love Pt. 4

Little Drunk, Lotta Careless (A Future Snapshot)

We’re Always on the Same Team (A Future Snapshot)

The Lucky Ones Pt. 2 (A Socialite AU)

Crazy Kids (A Future Snapshot)