#i just want to hear things without paying $200 fucking dollars!!!!

[cyazurai]

About ready to scream in frustration.

Click to read if you want to see me rant about earbuds, but if you don't, please just scroll by - I just needed to get this out of my system, haha.

I like to have a set of earbuds for at home, and a set that I take to work, because I am forgetful and will forget to take them to work if I don't always have them in my purse.

I bought the earbuds in my purse at the beginning of my college days, and I graduated in 2016. They still work fantastically.

I bought my current at home earbuds last year in July. The left ear doesn't have sound anymore, and the right is starting to cut out badly enough it's almost unusable. Same brand as the going-to-work earbuds.

So I'm scouring the internet for earbuds with good ratings, and little to no reviews talking about how they start cutting out within the first year. ALL of them have this problem. Every single one I've seen has a good chunk of the reviews talking about how they cut out in the first year - at least the ones under $30, because I'm a part timer I can't afford more than that. And this is both wired and wireless - I've always preferred wired because I'm clumsy and just know I'll drop one and lose it forever, but if I can find wireless with good reviews I'll go for it.

I might have to go back to the old at-home pair I had before these knew ones. They were breaking, literally the plastic was falling apart and hurting me, but the sound was still fantastic.

And that's just sad that new fancy stuff is worse than old broken stuff.

[fuck-customers]

I loved my job when I got it but three years later it's taken a rapid descent into me hating it.

There's nothing I enjoy about it anymore. The things that were nice about the job (time off as needed, I can listen to music all day, I work with animals and I love seeing them every day, decent pay raises) have either become not worth it, something my coworkers have made terrible, or something the joy has just been vacuumed out of.

One coworker listens to music, tiktoks, and musicals on her phone without earbuds and extremely loudly. It's just her and me in the room. I'm stuck in there for 4 hours on a mindless task and I'm beginning to lose it. I hear her bullshit even with two earbuds in. My coworkers don't treat me like a person. I'm left out of everything. They ignore me when I speak. They move my supplies and the one who MAKES the materials for my job just doesn't sometimes, sometimes for a full week or more, which costs me multiple hours of work. I've been here longer than anyone and I don't know what I've done to deserve this. I've barely interacted with them. I love the animals still but I don't enjoy interacting with them as much as I used to. I clock in and out and spend every day either numb or angry. I get home and I want to cry.

I spend my days off dreading the next shift and my heart rate has gone up. I get up before work and I want to die. I have no energy at all. It's work, come home and shower, force myself to eat since I don't have the appetite before work or the money to order food at work since it's in the middle of nowhere. I'm barely sleeping. I need to go to therapy but that's $200 a session and I don't have time anyway.

I don't have options. It's this place or nothing. I'm disabled, I won't pass a drug test because I use d8 (legally) for pain, and everything around here starts at $9/hr if I'm lucky.

I want to stay in bed tomorrow and no call no show until they forget who I am. But they won't, and I'm the only person trained to take care of the animals. No one else has this job. I was their first employee and I'm irreplaceable and they know it. I basically skipped Friday without any consequences because what are they supposed to do? It's me or find someone who'll take the job and spend half a year training them.

But I want to leave so badly and I can't. I won't let the animals suffer because of me. Even if I'd love to leave the people there frantic to replace me.

I'm trying to schedule a meeting with my boss to request consistent hours, a decent raise of at least a dollar, and some fucking peace and quiet so I don't have a mental breakdown at 10 in the morning. Oh, and maybe figure out why grown fucking adults are pretending I'm invisible. Maybe if that works it'll get better working there again.

If not.. I guess I'll just continue to be miserable until I wake up one day and just can't bring myself to get up at all.

[marlowowe]

WARNING very long winded post WARNING

the specific event that caused me to realize this: there's 5 of us after some people hopped off for the night, with a quota of ~1100 we completely flubbed our first mission; the entire thing was completely cursed, all but one of us died and we escaped with FIVE BUCKS. two days left to meet quota. someone mentions that we could afford to go to rend (very scary but big money place) if we get enough money to fly there by going somewhere else first and then selling treasure before the third day.

we go to assurance (I THINK?). oh boy. we needed a good amount of loot to be able to go to rend, like 200 something. 4 of us went in, finding a lot of dead ends, only to find the only way to proceed was at a SPIDER. we all got split up, but we realized we couldn't leave because we NEEDED the money. someone very luckily had a stop sign, so showed them where the spider was and they lured it to some stairs to kill it. terrifying. there was also a loot bug and a face hugger but honestly i cant remember what happened to them.

it's like 2pm now and we haven't found SHIT and we don't know what was past the spider yet. very luckily we found a good amount of loot past the spider, but now it was like 9pm and we needed to leave. we started running, trying to find a way out, and we very luckily found the fire exit. little did we know what was waiting for us outside. dogs and 2 WORMS!!! only ONE of us died (bc they're a sillyhead).

now we had to go to the company building, sell all our stuff, and HOPE we had enough to fly to rend. we had enough by like 5 dollars.

our only hope is rend. and (un)lucky for us there's a thunderstorm! we need around 900 in loot to meet quota. i don't think we had ever gotten that much in one trip, so a lot of us just thought it was over with maybe a sliver of a chance. which was probably true. all of us make one run-through the building, and find a jester (if you don't know, when the jester starts to wind itself up, you simply have to leave or it will kill you). i get the fuck outta there and i end up back at the ship with someone else with a lil bit of treasure. i don't know where the other 3 are. i say something like "i'm goin back in!!!" because i KNOW we didn't have enough money yet, so like a last ditch effort i was inverse-teleporting to a random place in the building, even though we knew there was a jester. i immediately find a golden cup (cool????) and a lamp (A LIGHT SOURCE???). i have no idea where i am. the only thing i knew was that there was a fireplace NEAR the main entrance of the building. i start running around aimlessly, calling out in case somebody could hear me, looking for more treasure until i eventually find a fireplace. but it's not the same fireplace; the door to the left is missing. I'm hopelessly lost. i find like 6 dead ends, starting to panic. i go the last way i knew to find MORE fireplaces, but still not the ones i knew and then.

oh my god. a jester AND a coilhead just chillin. just fucking vibing in the room with me. paying no attention to me. i'm fucking breaking down. i'm crying. i'm so goddamn scared. i'm fucking booking it, just full steam ahead, hoping to find a fire exit or the main entrance or a person. after running around like my head was cut off for a bit, i'm suddenly in the main entrance. and i'll be honest. i didn't know if i was being chased or anything because i fucking turned me headphones off. too scared. way too scared. i did NOT want to hear those fuckers chasing me. the final stretch was getting to the ship without being struck by lightning. while carrying 2 metal objects. also there was a fucking giant walking around. i did manage to get there, just to find 3 dead bodies. no clue how they died. probably the jester? i wish i asked. i was still missing one person though, so i went on the monitor to see where they were and they were ferrying objects to the ship, trying not to get struck by lightning. after quite a while they made and and we fucking took off from that godforsaken moon. and we did it. we met quota. by like 20 bucks. the stars aligned and we met quota. we found enough treasure, we didn't get struck by lightning, i befriended a coilhead and a jester, and the giant didn't fuck with us

i literally can't stop thinking about these events i had to write them down. i've never felt more immersed or invested in a video game than this silly fucking game i played for the first time 3 days ago if you know a group of people that play this game i cannot recommend it enough

i've never understood "immersion" in terms of games like i just never felt like i was in the world of the game, just that i was a person playing a game that had a world in it. until i played lethal company i've never felt such strong feelings of both terror and hilarity in a game, never felt more in the moment of a game, and never felt more immersed in a game. it's such a wild experience.

[thunderheadfred]

❄️Todoroki HC's🔥

Aged-up pro hero Shouto. NSFW under the cut. Minors do not interact.

- - -

General

Might as well be tied with Bakugou for the #1 pro hero spot; they seem to pass the crown back and forth every other year. Everyone knows about their intense frenemies uber-rivalry. Well. Everyone but Shouto.

He's asked to speak at a lot of charity events. If he has time to prepare (and hire a speech writer) he is capable of stirring crowds to standing ovations. But if caught unawares... he gets cornered into hilarious on-the-spot interviews. He's been memed. Mercilessly.

He's an OP character, but unfortunately he rolled -500 in fashion sense. Eventually he wises up and hires a stylist. When he finally cuts his hair a slightly different and even more flattering way, it's a national event. People faint in the street.

Does god-awful sleight-of-hand magic tricks when he meets young fans, even though nobody asked him to. The second-hand embarrassment is palpable. But he keeps doing it. God, why does he keep doing it?

Has hovering arm syndrome in every fan photo.

Super into pop music. Not a fan of any particular group or artist, couldn't tell you the name of a single song. But every time he turns up the volume on the radio it's like... really? THIS? Probably pumps that shit through his hero agency to keep up morale. Has no idea what you mean when you tell him his music taste doesn't match his personality.

Similarly, he enjoys brainless romantic comedies and old silent movies. Doesn't laugh at jokes but loses it over physical comedy. Thinks Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd are the funniest people who ever walked the earth.

He's long and limber. Runs practically a hundred miles every day just to "relax." Doesn't even get sweaty doing it. A filthy yoga addict. He'll probably live to be 200 years old.

He can regulate his body temperature for quirk use but in everyday life he's always half a degree outside the Goldilocks zone. It drives him quietly insane; he has an epic love-hate relationship with his thermostat.

Has a therapy animal pet. Doesn't matter if it's a dog or a cat or a bird or an iguana or a teeny tiny rodent. It's the best-behaved animal in the country and speaks more languages than you. It has its own room and an instagram account with millions of followers.

Lives in a traditional Japanese estate that doubles as a national treasure. Probably has government-appointed snipers at the gate, and he's just like, "don't worry about it." You are afraid to touch anything. Fuck, don't even look at anything, just to be safe.

Has an outstanding personal chef who only gets to cook five things unless (thank fuck!!) company comes over. Impossibly picky eater. He rotates between a few "safe" foods and suspiciously side-eyes everything else. If you cook something unfamiliar for him it will be the most awkward meal of your life, because he'd never tell you he doesn't like it. But oh lord, just look at his face.

This clashes directly with his love of traveling. Frequently uses his hero earnings to visit exotic foreign locales over long weekends... but rarely tries the food.

- - -

Dating

A grey-ace demisexual disaster. You could count the number of people he's been attracted to on one hand. He falls madly in love every time and always gets his heart smashed to pieces when his crush can't magically intuit the meaning of his frigid longing glances and generically courteous romantic gestures.

Which is stupid, because he gets propositioned constantly. He can't walk out the door without being flirted with. People keep slipping him their phone numbers and he always directs them to his agency like a moron. It's a good thing he will never understand how attractive he is because that's the only thing keeping him from total world domination.

Conventional attractiveness does not compute. Shouto doesn't have a type, doesn't care that he's an eleven whilst you are merely mortal. He will fall for your personality above all else.

Probably falls head over heels because your schedules overlap in a completely ordinary way and he witnesses you doing something endearing or brave or most likely: utterly mundane.

Pick a favorite, because you're his favorite coworker, or his favorite barista, or his favorite random bystander in line at the grocery store. You made him smile once; then he spent the next three months daydreaming about your future together before you accidentally stomped on his foot, initiating your first real conversation.

He's big on healthy communication. HUGE. He goes to therapy and it shows. Will talk through literally everything to the point of delirium. Sometimes his dedication to resolving every issue right away can get overwhelming; sometimes you just need some frickin time alone. But it pays off, because the two of you have practically never have a "real fight." There's just no way for bad vibes to fester.

STILL, his family wasn't exactly... erm... verbally or emotionally supportive, shall we say. For that reason, he might not give you all the compliments you deserve, because it simply doesn't occur to him to do so. He assumes you know how he feels. If you're self-conscious or insecure in the relationship, it might take him a while to notice. But when he figures it out (or even better, when you tell him directly) he will make it up to you with enthusiasm.

Will take you on lavish dates. Spoils you rotten without actually intending to. He's clueless about money. If you wanted a sugar daddy, you just hit the fucking jackpot. But if the word valet makes you uncomfortable, perhaps suggest some romantic picnics instead. He can still go all out with the food and five-star location without making you see cartoon dollar signs.

Chronic Insomniac. Stays up too late watching YouTube every night. His viewing history is an incomprehensible blur of k-pop music videos, serial killer icebergs, and super girly crafty ASMR channels. When he's watching a video, he is unreachable. Please call back later and try again.

He's disgustingly cute when he sleeps. Doesn't snore, but drools. Sometimes the drool freezes and leaves frost trails on his face in the morning. Still sleeps with the giant stuffed cat pillow that his mother gave him when he was like, zero. He'll inadvertently suffocate you with it, and you will welcome death with open arms because awwwwww!!!!!

The first time he tells you he loves you will be after your traditional Japanese shinto wedding. You won't hear it again until you start a family. Honestly, it's a good thing he doesn't say it often and is always holding you when it happens. It's a knee-buckler.

- - -

Icy-Hot

I don't even need to say it. Shouto is as old-fashioned as they come. You will never open another door or pull out another chair for yourself as long as you live. He will ask before he holds your hand. He will ask before he kisses you. He will stop and check in if you so much as breathe funny during sex.

If you don't orgasm at exactly the same time while staring into one another's eyes, he'll consider himself a failed lover. God forbid you want him to pound you into the futon... cause you are going to have to present that scenario to him in writing first.

Physical intimacy rarely leads to sex. He loves cuddling, craves physical affection. He'll sprawl all over you and turn into goo while you hold him close. He's an amazing, astounding, phenomenally good kisser. And that's... nice and all... but sometimes you have to grab his face and say, "Shouto, I'm horny," before he's like so that's why you're currently dry-humping me?

Even if he isn't technically a virgin the first time (or the millionth time) you sleep together, you won't know the difference. He's a blushing violet. Every. Fucking. Time. This doesn't mean he's a bad lay, oh no. But there's always ten minutes of confused bumbling before he hits his stride and remembers oh yeah, I DO know how to fuck good.

Absolutely silent during sex. Focused. Intense. Sometimes you have to push him a little to make any kind of noise at all, just so you know you're pleasing him (oh don't worry, you are).

His cock is Just Right. Not to big or too small. Perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. Somehow pretty. Like a fucking factory prototype. It truly is not fair.

Gets handsy and restless at night, even if you both have work the next day. Seems to crave sex at three in the morning. You've given him more than one exhausted handjob.

Gets offended if you don't cum. Will go down on you for hours. Of course he uses his quirk to tease you. He doesn't typically use it during actual intercourse, but he's all about foreplay, and he'll use every tool in his arsenal.

His sex drive is completely fucking unpredictable. Sometimes he's all over you, other times he's an icy slab. His line of work leaves him busy and stressed on a near-constant basis, so you can't entirely blame his personality for this one. Just give him some time and help him take care of his basic needs. He'll come back around soon enough.

[topsytervy]

Rented ~ Rafe Cameron

Blurb: Rafe decides to pay your brother Barry to rent you as his date for midsummers and it turns into something a little more.

Word Count: 4,516

Warnings: mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking, swearing, canon Rafe in the beginning, age gap (16 and 19), probably spelling errors, kind of horribly written towards the end, i think that’s all.

I just want to say that it’s not okay to rent out your friends or family members without their consent or just in general so...don’t be Barry. Also, google told me age of consent in North Carolina is 16 but THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. I DO NOT CONDONE A RELATIONSHIP WHERE ONE (OR MORE) OF THE PEOPLE IN A RELATIONSHIP IS A MINOR AND THE OTHER (OR OTHERS) IS AN ADULT. I DO NOT CONDONE IT AND DO NOT RECOMMEND IT. THIS IS PURELY FICTION AND FOR THE STORY.

~~~~~

Being Barrys younger sister sucked ass. 

He was your legal guardian until you were 18 and he couldn't care less about your well-being if you were being honest. It was well-known that Barry was your brother after all the times he dragged you home from somewhere or constantly called you, telling you to get home. If you opted for turning off your phone, he'd come looking for you or offer someone a gram at half-price if they brought you home.

There was the one time you were at the chateau late one night and he told you that if you weren’t home by 10, you'd be sleeping outside cause he wasn’t going to get up to unlock the door.

JJ dropped you off at 10:01 and, sure enough, a blanket and pillow were sitting on the porch for you. When JJ stopped by later to drop off your phone that you left behind on accident, he saw you sleeping on the ground and took a crowbar to your window.

JJ seemed to be the only one who liked you for you. 

Most of the time when people approached you and became your friend, they did it because they thought that being your friend meant discounted coke. 

It didn't. Frankly, Barry didn’t want you sticking your nose in his little empire. You minded your business and he minded his for the most part.

JJ was probably the first real friend you had. It was very simple of how the friendship formed, he saw someone push you, and he punched them. Why? You don’t know. That was just JJ Maybank for you. 

You repaid the favor the next day when a girl poured her water on him and you broke her nose for him. He laughed as you passed him your sweatshirt so he could dry himself off before you were dragged to the office.

You had also tried convincing Barry to stop selling to Luke Maybank but Barry just said "money is money. I’m not turning away a paying customer just so your little boyfriend can be happy. My happiness comes first. How do you think I feed you?"

8th grade was a wild year.

The first time you ever met Rafe was when he was a senior in high school and you were a freshman.

There was a kegger on the beach and you were on keeping JJ under control duty like every other time. It was a well-known fact around that you could talk JJ down from a fight and keep him from pounding people’s faces in. After all, you liked to avoid conflict and would rather have problems talked out rather than fought out.

So it was no shock when Topper, Kelce, and Rafe showed up and stood in front of you guys for their beers, you had a hand on JJs shoulder and shooting him a glance.

Thankfully, you got through filling their cups without any words said and the party went smoothly for the most part until Topper and JJ got a bit too close to each other.

All you remember is coming back from the bathroom and being dragged to where JJ currently had Topped in a headlock.

"Yo, Y/N! Get your boy off of him!" Rafe had yelled at you. 

You rolled your eyes and flipped him off before rushing over to the two boys.

 You grabbed JJs bicep and leaned in close to him so he could hear you. "J, he's had enough. Let him go." 

JJ hesitated before releasing Topper who immediately had Rafe and Kelce by his side.

Rafe glared at JJ before turning to you. "You better keep your bitch under control before he ends up like his dad."

Your grip tightened on JJ as you held him back from pouncing again. JJ spat some blood into the sand and you handed him to John B before walking over to the older boy.

"You better watch your mouth Rafe before it gets you in trouble." You said evenly.

"Oh really? What? You gonna call your coke dealer brother to come fuck me up?" He practically spat in your face.

You didn’t say anything, just drew back your fist and let it connect with his nose.

"No. I'll do it myself." You hissed, leaning down so only he would hear you as he held his nose.

And that was your first-ever direct interaction meeting with Rafe Cameron. 

It sucked ass and you would’ve thought you two would’ve killed each other the next time you two met.

Except, you didn’t kill each other.

You were so adjusted to him coming in and out of the trailer for coke that you were unfazed when you walked out of your bedroom to see Rafe handing Barry money, a smirk present on his lips as he walked past you and out the door.

"Wow. Kooky cokehead seemed real happy this time. What? You give him a 25% off coupon for his next purchase." You joked, flopping down on the couch.

"No. He left empty-handed. And 200 bucks poorer." Barry grinned, counting out the money.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Why on God's green earth would Rafe fork over 200 dollars only to leave empty-handed?

"Guess who's going to midsummer’s as Rafe Cameron’s date?" Barry looked at you with a smile.

Your eyes widened as you stood up. "You rented me to Rafe Cameron without my consent! I'm 16! He's 19!"

"Legal age of consent is 16 here. Besides, it’s not like he asked to fuck you. He just needed a date to midsummers and he wanted to take you." Barry explained, walking towards his room. 

"Jokes on you! The only dress I have is from 5th grade!" 

"Jokes on you cause country clubs gonna be taking care of your wardrobe for the night!" 

You let out a yell of frustration before turning around and walking put the door, hopping onto your bike, and booking it to the beach.

You ditched your bike at the bike rack and ran down the beach searching for your friends. You let pit a breath when you saw Kie and Pope sitting on the sand. 

"Hey Y/N/N. You look like you've seen a ghost. What’s up?" Pope asked once you were close enough. 

"Where's JB and JJ?" You panted, slightly out of breath from running across the sand. 

Kie nodded out towards the water and you watched as JJ surfed a wave with John B. You crossed your arms and watched your two friends make their way back to shore. JJ grinned as he approached you, surfboard under his arm, shaking his hair and causing water droplets to hit your exposed arm.

"Look who finally showed up." The blonde laughed, slinging his arm around you.

"Sorry, I was held up for a few extra minutes because Barry decided that he'd rent me out to Rafe Cameron for Midsummers!" You told him, voice getting louder and angrier with each word you spoke.

"Please tell me that’s a joke." John B looked at you.

"I wish it fucking was! Rafe stopped by, gave Barry 200 bucks to rent me for a night, and then walked out." 

"That’s crazy," JJ said, surfboard long forgotten in the sand.

You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by a familiar and unwelcomed voice.

"Hey, Y/N. Haven’t seen you in a bit." 

You and your friends turned to face Rafe, feelings JJs arm tighten around your shoulders.

"You saw me an hour ago tops."

Rafe smirked, hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to let you know that I made an appointment for you to get your measurements taken for your dress. It’s over on the mainland at 11:00 tomorrow."

"What’s the name of the place and I'll take her to the appointment?" Kie crossed her arms over her chest as she spoke.

Rafe shot her a glance before looking back at you. "I’m picking you up at about 9:30 so be ready."

"Hey, jackass. Kie said she would take her. Just tell her the name of the joint." JJ took his arm from around you and took a step towards Rafe 

"Y/N/N, your bitch needs to be put in check," Rafe told you calmly as he looked into your eyes.

You grabbed JJs wrist as he went to lunge and looked at Rafe. "One moment, please. I need to converse with my friends."

Rafe watched you lazily as you tugged your friends away from the older boy. 

"This is really bad timing considering we're in the middle of finding 400 mill," JJ whispered.

"Kie, you gotta stay here and help Pope keep JJ and John B put of trouble and help him reason with them." You told her. 

"And leave you alone with the Kook prince?" John B looked at you like you were crazy.

"I’ll be fine. I'll bring pepper spray." You reassured them.

They all looked at each other before sighing and nodding.

Before you could leave, JJ grabbed your wrist. "If things get weird, send me an SOS and I'll be there ASAP. Even if I have to paddle my way to the mainland." 

You nodded and made your way towards Rafe. "Just don’t try to engage in a conversation with me right away. Unless it’s 10 AM or I've had caffeine, I don’t talk in the mornings." You informed the older boy.

"I'll see you then, angel." Rafe sent you a wink before turning to walk away.

You caught JJs arm, knowing your best friend was close to tackling the kook boy into the sand to pound his face in.

JJ turned to you, leaning in close to your ear to speak. "I’m serious. First red flag, you call or text me. I highly doubt consent is a word in Rafe Cameron’s dictionary."

****

You saw Rafe more in the 4 days leading up to midsummers than you had in a year and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.

The first day was the day you needed your measurements taken. The dress had already been picked out and you ignored the fact that the tailor said that it was about time you two came because he was ready to put it back on the rack after day 3 of holding it.

You stood there, completely out of your comfort zone as measurements were taken and jotted down onto a notepad. 

"How quickly can you get the dress altered?" Rafe asked from the couch, watching the process.

"Depends Mr. Cameron. How quickly do you need it?" The tailor responded.

Rafe rubbed his face, groaning. "Let’s see. Four- four and a half days and that’s counting today. We're coming back to the island on the day of midsummers to pick everything else up, today is just a looking day. So, three days." 

The tailor nodded. "We can do that. We'll make it a top priority."

Rafe nodded before his eyes met with yours. 

The tailor exited the room for something and that’s when you spoke. "A looking day?"

"Yeah. Browse through the jewelry and heels and anything else necessary for midsummers." He glanced down to where you were fiddling with your fingers and immediately pulled out his phone. "And a manicure. Might as well throw in a pedicure." 

"Rafe," you said. He didn’t look up from his phone, probably looking at nail salons nearby. "Rafe." You tried again and still nothing. You sighed before walking over to him. "Rafe!" You went to snatch his phone but he caught your wrist. 

"I heard you the first time now what?" He hissed.

You wrenched your wrist away from him. "How could I know when you didn’t even pay me a glance? At least acknowledge me so I know you heard me and then I wouldn't keep saying your name and get on with what I need to say." You huffed.

"Maybe I like it when you say my name." He smirked.

You rolled your eyes as you felt your face heat up, praying that he either would mistake it for a sudden sunburn or would just ignore it.

"What did you want to say?" He asked, stretching out a bit.

"I’m not wearing heels. I can barely walk in my sneakers without breaking a bone. How the hell am I supposed to do heels?" 

Rafe sat there for a few seconds, chewing on his lip before sighing. "What are your thoughts on little miss perfect?"

"Who?"

"My sister. Sarah. Little miss perfect." Rafe rolled his eyes.

You shrugged. You never really even talked to Sarah except for the whole 'get your friend of my boyfriend' fiasco at the boneyard that one night, but that was more towards Kie than you.

"Tomorrow, she’s teaching you how to walk in heels. Even if I have to hold a gun to her head." Rafe finished as the tailor walked back in.

You grimaced at his choice of words as the tailor reassured Rafe that he would get started right away on the dress and make sure it was perfect for the event. 

Rafe smiled, thanked the man for his time, and then beckoned you to follow him out the door. You shot the tailor a smile and a thank you before following Rafe out the door.

"You hungry?" He asked once you both were out on the street. 

You shrugged once again, shoving your hands into your pockets.

Rafe sighed. "You know, you're going to have to talk to me. Like civil, full sentences, classy conversation." 

"I do know how to be civil Rafe. After all, I haven’t swung on quite yet but depending on how the rest of the day goes, maybe that will change." You answered him before looking at his face, "Is that enough sentences for you?"  

You saw him hold back a smile before training his blue eyes on you. "Just answer the question. You hungry or not?"

You smiled. "I guess I could eat."

"Then let’s go eat then get your nails done."

The second day was nothing completely insane. All you did, was sit about until Rafe dropped by, which was the shortest amount of time you spent with him in those four days. Only being with him for an hour that day for literally no reason. 

"Get dressed. We're going out." He told you when you answered the door.

You sighed, looking down at your pajamas.  "But I’m comfy."

Rafe smiled, shaking his head. "Seriously, come on. Let’s get dinner at the Wreck and then eat it at the beach or something." 

“Was this in the itinerary?”

“Not in the slightest but I’m bored and I’m sure you are too.”

You pursed your lips before nodding. "Alright." 

"That didn’t take much convincing." He commented.

"Well, your offering dinner so I’m not gonna say no." 

"You sure that’s all it is."

You looked back to see Rafe’s signature smirk on his face.

"Don’t let it go to your head, Cameron." 

Rafe rolled his eyes before pushing you in the direction of your room. "Go get dressed. I don’t want anyone else seeing you in your pajamas."

You rolled your eyes with a small smile before walking into your room, leaving Rafe in the hallway.

The evening on the third day was Sarah teaching you how to successfully walk in heels without you ending up in the hospital. 

"Why the hell are these so tall?" You asked, looking up at Sarah and Rafe who sat on the couch.

"Good question. Why are they so tall, Sarah? I said to teach her how to walk in heels, not break her ankles before midsummers." Rafe looked at his younger sister.

"You wanted her to learn how to walk in heels, those are heels. I don’t know what else you expected Rafe." Sarah shot at her brother.

"I don't know, something that still has her feet somewhat horizontal to the ground, not diagonal." Rafe glared at her.

"Then you should’ve bought heels for her to practice in."

"Oh, so it’s my fault?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." 

Rafe didn’t respond, just stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Sarah rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to you.

"Okay, I might have a pair that’s an inch shorter." 

"Bring them out."

You ended up spending the night at the Camerons that night, much to the pogues displeasure.

You just got done brushing your teeth and were laying on Sarah’s bed in a pair of her pajamas when Sarah spoke up.

"So, John B…" 

You shot your head up from the book you found in her room that looked somewhat interesting.

"What about John B?" 

"What’s he like? You know, besides a surfer dude and a felon."

You raised an eyebrow. "What the hell are you on about?"

"He seems… I don’t know… not boring. Not bland. So much better than this life." Sarah sighed, flopping onto her back, arms stretched out.

"Barf in my mouth." You rolled your eyes.

"What? You've never looked at someone and felt a smile tug at your lips for no reason or they look at you and you feel like you are the most gorgeous person in the world. They give you a rush of adrenaline or… or make your head all cloudy."

"Oh my god. You barely even know John B. He's like every other teenage guy. Disgusting, horny, and hungry." You answered. 

Sarah sat up. "That’s the thing. We hung out the entire day today. That’s why I told Rafe to have you come over in the evening. Because I was gone all day."

"So you asked me to spend the night to talk about one of my best friends so you can get in his pants. You've got Topper." You rolled your eyes, getting up from the bed.

"No." She grabbed my wrist. "I think I really like him. He takes me away from the bubble wrap. It’s exciting, the life you guys live. Topper doesn’t take me away from the bubble wrap. If anything, he adds more. When I kissed John B-"

You looked at her. "Wait. What? Listen I like Topper about as much as I like brussel sprouts but I don’t think he deserves his girlfriend kissing another dude before she gets the balls to break up with him." 

"It just happened. And it felt...amazing. I felt breathless like I was on cloud 9." She smiled, ignoring the last bit.

"I'm sure you did. I’m gonna go get some water." You excused yourself.

"Wait." She called.

You turned to look at the blonde and she chucked a pair of heels at you. "Put those on and walk downstairs."

You rolled your eyes before slipping the shoes onto your feet and proceeding put of her room.

Rafe was in the kitchen, snacking on some chips while he was scrolling through his phone. His head shot up when he heard the sound of heels on the stairs. 

He looked towards the entrance of the kitchen and smiled when he saw you enter. 

"You look ridiculous wearing pajamas and heels." He commented. 

You feigned offense, staring at the older boy. "You mean this isn't fashionable? I call it sleeping chic." You did a twirl and Rafe chuckled.

"You know what? It looks wonderful." Rafe placed his arms on the table and leaned forward, watching your every move.

"Your sister threw them at me before I came downstairs. I assume for me to practice but, not to toot my own horn, I think I’m getting the hang of walking in them."

"Go ahead and toot your horn cause if you waltzed up to me at a party the same way you did coming into the kitchen, I would've thought you've been wearing heels your entire life." 

"Why thank you." You grinned, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. 

You walked over to the island and slid into the seat next to Rafe, opening the bottle before taking a drink.

"You know something, Rafe?" 

"Hmm."

"I haven’t hated spending these past few days with you. You're surprisingly not that annoying." 

Rafe sent you a smile. "Yeah?" 

You nodded, looking at him.

"I haven’t hated spending these days with you either." He nudged you with his shoulder.

You stood up as you grabbed your water before placing a hand on his shoulder.  "See you tomorrow."

"Yep. Don’t forget we’re going to the mainland tomorrow to pick up everything." He cleared his throat.

You nodded and said goodnight before heading back upstairs and into Sarah’s room, shutting the door behind you.

The night of midsummer was hectic. You and Rafe quickly went to the mainland to pick up the dress, heels, and accessories before grabbing some lunch.

It wasn’t long before you asked Rafe to drop you off at Kie’s to get ready. You had a shower before Kie and her mom helped you get ready, her mom gushing about how Rafe will drop dead when he sees you.

You were blushing bright red at the thought as Kie rolled her eyes before you quickly excused yourself so you could change into your dress and pull on your heels that were picked up earlier that day. Rafe insisted on getting you a necklace but you declined once you saw the price tag, telling him you had a nice pair of earrings and a bracelet at home you could wear that you'd ask Kie to pick up.

After Kiara’s mom took pictures, you were at the event, completely out of your element as you tried to find Rafe which was weirdly difficult considering his height.

You heard a low whistle and whipped around, tensing slightly before relaxing. Rafe stood there in a baby blue suit, a small smile on his face as he looked at you.

"You look stunning, Y/N." He complimented.

You felt your cheeks heating up again as you spoke. "Thanks. You look rather dashing yourself."

His smile grew before he offered you his arm. "Shall we mingle?"

You linked your arm through his. "If we have to."

****

After half an hour of mingling and Rafe getting you both a drink, Rafe set down his empty glass. 

"Let’s dance, angel." 

You sighed, slightly flushing at the nickname this time around, before finishing off your drink and setting down the glass. You followed Rafe onto the dance floor and placed your hands on his shoulders as his own went to your waist.

You two swayed side to side, a silence hanging over the two of you for a bit before you broke it.

"Why me?" 

"Hmm." 

"Why did you pay Barry to rent me for a night when any kook girl here would’ve gone with you and it wouldn’t have cost you anything?" You asked quietly.

You saw Rafe swallow before answering. "I...I…don't really know.” He lied, feeling his breathing pick up slightly.

"Rafe. Breathe." You told him.

He did as you said before looking around, his eyes narrowing. 

"I'll be right back." He muttered, removing his arms from your waist and starting to walk away.

"Rafe," You said, grabbing his wrist.

He turned to look at you before turning back to where his eyes were previously looking, chewing on his bottom lip in thought.

You followed his gaze to see JJ looking at you, concern written on your best friend’s face. 

"Leave him alone, Rafe. He’s not doing anything. Just….lets keep dancing." 

Rafe’s eyes went back to yours and he nodded slowly.

You mouthed a quick I’m fine to JJ before putting your hands back on Rafe’s shoulders. 

"Can I tell you something? Well, a couple of things." 

You nodded.

"Well, for starters, I've been trying to get off coke."

"That’s great, Rafe." You grinned, squeezing his shoulders with your hands.

"It’s hard. But I find it easier to not think about getting high when...um...you're with me." Rafe admitted, feeling his cheeks getting hot.

You felt your breathing pick up and tried your best to keep it under control. "Really?" You breathed out.

He nodded before taking his hands off your waist and reaching into his pocket. "I know you said no to me getting you that one necklace but here. I picked this up when you were at the nail salon that day we were getting your dress altered." 

Rafe handed you a little box and you could practically feel the nervousness radiating off of him as you took it in your own shaking hands. Rafe, for the first time in ages, felt shy in front of a girl and scared of being rejected.

You opened the box to see a little necklace resting in the box, the word angel attached to it. 

"How much was it?" You asked, not wanting him to spend any more money on you than he needed to for this event.

Too late though.

Rafe scratched the back of his neck as he looked down. "I’d rather not answer that question."

Your eyes widened and you smacked his chest. "Rafe Cameron!" You whispered harshly before putting it back in his hands. "I can't accept and keep that. I already planned on giving you the dress and heels back and paying you back for the manicure and pedicure. I can’t keep this in good conscience just because I agreed to be your date tonight. You don’t have to give me a present, you already paid Barry and bought this shit."

Rafe licked his lips as he looked around before looking back towards you. "I shouldn’t have paid Barry unless I was renting Barry, I should've paid you. I technically should've just asked you without paying but I was nervous and I was scared. I knew Barry would let me take you out for the right price and I took advantage of it. It’s just- I caught feelings for you somehow in the last month okay. Like actual feelings and I- I think you're-"

"An angel. Your angel." You finished for him.

Rafe nodded sheepishly before shoving the box back into his pocket. "I always turned to coke for comfort and I feel like when I’m with you, I don’t need to turn to coke for that comfort. I can turn to you. I’m sorry. It’s stupid, I'll just go." 

Rafe turned around but you grabbed him yet again. "It’s not stupid." You whispered before pressing your lips to his.

Rafe was surprised for a second before he kissed back, his hands coming up to cup your face.

After you two pulled away, Rafe smiled. "Does this mean you'll take the necklace?"

You nodded before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the box. 

"Can you?" You asked, gesturing towards the box.

"I would love to." He said, taking the necklace in his hands and placing it around your neck, doing the clasp in the back. 

"Told you she would catch feelings in those four days," Pope stated as he looked at JJ.

JJ clenched his jaw before turning away. "I gotta go find Sarah."

~~~~~

[maryellencarter]

Okay kids, buckle up. I need money again (for the last time, pray god), but at least this time I have a fucking story to go with it.

Short version: My landlord is illegally trying to evict me and I just had to drop $60 on court costs to fight it. That's $60 that was going to pay for either my meds or the electric bill, take your pick. So I really need donations to get by for the next two weeks, after which I should be settling in at a much more mentally healthy job and in good shape. My Paypal is ethanrabbits@gmail.com and my Ko-fi is here. Thank you so much for anything you can contribute!

Long version:

So the last three months I've been off work due to a mental health breakdown. July and August, I haven't been able to pay my rent. I applied for rent assistance right away in late June, and emailed my landlord's office all the paperwork for both the rent assistance and the CDC Declaration of eligibility for the Eviction Moratorium -- the thing where if you're poor enough you can't get evicted during the pandemic because you would have to go to a shelter or a crowded living situation and be at risk for the Covid.

Middle of July, I received a *backdated* notice that if I didn't provide proof of rent assistance application, I was going to be filed against for eviction. Okay, there's a new property manager, maybe the filing got mixed up, so I go down and re-email all the paperwork and make sure the property manager sees it arrive in the email.

Beginning of August, I get a notice from the rent assistance people that the CDC has extended the moratorium for places in a high surge status, which I am in one, so I fill out and forward the newest eviction protection form which should cover me till October 3, and go down to speak to the property manager about it, when again I am assured that everything is on file.

Middle of August, two months after filing my request for rent assistance, I finally hear from a caseworker who says "send me your paperwork". I jubilantly send all the paperwork, go down to give my property manager the good news, and also -- see, I don't have a lease for September yet. I was offered one back in July, but I didn't want to sign anything until I knew what my situation was going to be with regard to rent assistance and paydays. So I brought down the paper that said "yes I am signing here to officially agree to the new lease you offered, please print the new lease so I can sign it officially", and handed it to the property manager as well.

Now, I have about $700 of late fees for July and August. This is legal under the eviction moratorium and I have understood from the beginning that I would have to pay them. My first paycheck back to work comes in this Friday, and when I went to request the new lease I had planned to discuss a payment arrangement as well, figuring I could pay about $600 on Friday and the rest in two weeks, based on my projected paycheck.

("Taught myself payroll tax law in order to predict my paychecks" should definitely be on my resume somewhere. I just haven't figured out where.)

But, dear readers, when I went down to drop off the form, there was some other client or resident in the office, so I didn't get to discuss a payment arrangement. No big deal, I figured. I'd discuss it when I heard that my lease was ready to sign.

Instead, last Tuesday, I was woken up at nine sharp by a process server with an eviction summons for me. Thank fuck, I've spent the last two weeks having a technical issue at work that's kept me getting paid but off the phones, because I was in no state to talk to people that day. Eventually I pulled myself together, broke out the legalese close-reading skills, and discovered that the summons includes one particular line item which (I hope and pray) indicates They Done Fucked Up.

This summons, ladies and gentlethem, includes the line item "The Plaintiff has not received an executed copy of the Declaration form as of the date of this filing pursuant to the CDC Order dated September 1, 2020."

Well, gentle readers, I was and am *pissed off*. I keep providing documentation to these fuckers and they keep misplacing it, and now they're getting me involved with The Legal System. I *hate* being anywhere near the legal system. I have massive PTSD triggers from being raised by an evil ADA. But by god, I speak legalese as my first language, and I am not going down without a fight.

So, not being able to get in touch with anyone to provide legal aid or assistance, I spent last Thursday trundling around downtown in decaying shoes and 105° heat, getting court paperwork printed and duplicated and filed and mailed. I dropped about $60 I hadn't planned to spend on court filing fees and certified mail costs and the actual baseline printing costs of all the documentation I needed to provide.

I did get two pieces of good luck that day. One, I finally heard back from my case manager saying that the rent assistance money for my landlord only has to go through one more person who will double-check the numbers. It's supposed to get final approval sometime early this week.

Two, I got a job promotion I've been working toward for years. Well, side-motion, it doesn't come with a raise, but I already make $16+ an hour, over twice our federal minimum wage. What it does come with is, except in rare cases I never talk to callers, I just answer them in written messages. This should hopefully be a perfect job for me, and allow me to work a solid 40 hours a week and earn plenty of money.

The catch is... it's work-at-home only. If I get evicted and can't make it to training on Monday week, I'm fucked.

So. My eviction hearing is tomorrow. If and when the judge is like "okay if we let you sign a new 12-month lease and stay in your apartment, what is your repayment plan on your late fees", I plan to be like "Your Honor, I have a payday on Friday and I am prepared to provide the court a money order for the full $700 of late fees on that date which will bring me fully up to date".

I'll do it, too. The catch is, that'll leave me with something like $200 in the bank for the next two weeks, and I calculate I need about $100 for groceries, $80 for meds, $50 for electric, and $80 for the cell phone bill over that time period. These numbers don't add up. :P

Soooo, yeah. I'm having to spend about $160 I can't afford because my damn property manager is an idiot and can't fucking print and file my fucking legal declaration. I really hope the court throws the book at the corporation and nails them with those "up to $200,000 fines" for breaking the CDC moratorium, although I am dubious because courts like corporations much more than they like stout genderqueer individuals without legal representation, however white and erudite.

But mostly, I really hope I can stay in my apartment and also afford my meds for the next two weeks. My Paypal is ethanrabbits@gmail.com and my Ko-fi is here. If you can spare *anything*, even a dollar or three, it would help so much.

God, I'm so sick of having to beg for help every few weeks. I just really hope nothing else blows up in my face... :-(

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Christmas Specials: Fishcake

CW: Some hint of dehumanization and references to Bahram’s depression/past breakdown at the end, some brief emeto references, but really this is just fluff. Oh, also brief unintentional ableism that Miah calls out.

Introduction | Siren Song | Cries | Here | Not Sure | Draw Blood | Fish | Signs | Stop | Something New | Help | Please Don’t Let Me Drown  | Fish Food | Squeaky Toy | Fading | Fishcake

---

BAHRAM’S NOTES

December 24th, 20XX 11:15 pm Mer in Residence: 71 Days

Miah showed up tonight with a Christmas present for me, and now I feel like a giant dick for not having anything to give her. 

Christmas just isn’t a thing in my family. I mean, I have cousins who go overboard with it, kind of a fitting in thing, but my family never did. Baba does some kind of fast, but for Maman it’s just another day and for me it’s always meant mostly a day where I played video games all day because I didn’t have to be at school or work. 

Oh, I need to call Baba and Maman tomorrow, note to self. She always gets worried about me right around the end of the year, what with how they figured out I was quitting school and everything.

I guess getting a phone call from a hospital leaves a bloody impression.

Anyway, Miah comes in with this big shopping bag in her hand, waving at me all bright and sunny and cheerful. She set the bag down long enough to berate me for - she assumed - having not taken my medicine on time. 

For the record, she was right, but I didn’t tell her that.

Nearly drowning in saltwater made my lungs apparently terribly angry with me, so for the next eight days I’m on a run of antibiotics to handle a lovely case of bacterial pneumonia. Would’ve been far handier to get pneumonia right away, but instead I ended up in Urgent Care yesterday, paying 200 dollars and waiting two hours to see a doctor for less than ten minutes. 

Dr. L says she’ll reimburse me the cost, but still. 

Miah asked me how I was feeling, I said I felt fine, really, and then of course I had an awful coughing fit just to prove myself a wonderful liar. The coughing’s the worst part - every time I really get going, it’s like being underwater all over again. I can feel my lungs fighting to inflate, to take the air in, and I can hear how hard I’m working to get enough air to stop coughing at all. Miah can’t hear it, but she can see it all right, and she looked worried.

I signed, “I’m fine, it’ll stop, the doctor says it will,” and she frowned at me, but let it go, I guess. While she had her face turned away to greet the mer, I opened the pill bottle and dry-swallowed the meds really fast. Sometimes there are benefits to Miah not being able to hear things.

The mer - Kima, I can call him by his name in these notes, the ones only I see - was already at the side of the tank, watching us. He’s perked up a bit lately, since I started giving him live fish on the days Dr. L isn’t around and Miah brought him all these enrichment things. We’re doing what we can, but I know it’s still not enough.

Enough would be figuring out where his bloody family is and getting him back to them, but I just… I can’t even begin to explain, even to myself, the logistical nightmare of hauling a six-foot-long mer back to the ocean and finding someone who would take him back up north where his family likely is in the middle of bloody fucking December.

It’s the right thing to do, yeah.

But it’d just be too hard to pull off, not without losing… my whole taped-together life, yeah? Plus I’m still dealing with trying to figure out who exactly is my real employer at this point - who’s paying Dr. L - and what they want from the mer’s… thing he can do.

Miah glanced over at him and signed, “Don’t worry, I have something for you, too,” and Kima just looked back at her, head cocked to the side. She looked over at me and signed, “It’s a fish-cake.”

I have to admit, it took me a second to even begin to respond. My hands just… hung in mid-air, before finally I asked, “A what?”

“A fishcake. It’s like a fruitcake, but so much worse.” She leaned down to dig around in the big bag and pulled out a box, pausing to add, “I had to wrap it and box it or the car would have smelled horrible for days,” before she picked up and laid the box on my desk, opened it, took out something wrapped in layers of plastic, and unwrapped that, painstakingly slowly.

I glanced over at the mer, who watched with total fascination. Maybe he’d caught the sign for fish, he’s incredibly food-motivated. Which makes sense, of course, probably with his pod he’d spend a lot of his day eating and hunting for more, but

Bahram. Focus.

She was right - as soon as the plastic came off, I could smell it. 

“How can you handle that? Isn’t your sense of smell… really good?” Ah, yes, I am always so proud of myself when I forget a sign for a word I want to say and have to sort of cobble together the spirit of it with other signs.

She looked at me with this sort of dry are you kidding me expression, then signed, “I’m deaf, B, not a superhero,” in a way that made me feel about ten inches tall.

“Sorry. That’s an awful smell, though.”

And it was. I like fish as much as the next man, but this was foul. She grinned at me and picked up the tupperware the fishcake was in using towels to protect her hands from picking the smell up too, I guess, and went over to the ladder up to the platform. Her back was already to me, so I couldn’t ask her the question I had, or tell her not to do that one-handed. Instead, I just sort of… got up and hovered uselessly while she climbed up without looking back, and then followed her up there.

The platform makes me… nervous, now. I stay closer to the ladder, farther from the water. I hope the mer, that Kima doesn’t think I don’t want to be close to him or something.

Miah took the lid off the tupperware and waited. Soon enough the mer popped up near us, interested in what we were doing on the platform. 

I watched those nasal slits open wide when he smelled the fish. And I watched how his eyes went big and shiny with excitement. Whatever Miah had put in the foul thing, he wanted it.

She dumped it into the water - I didn’t see much, other than a sort of loaf-shape and a sense of texture I never want to think about again - and Kima tore into it. It was the grossest thing I’ve ever seen, and I have actually watched Kima eat raw fish that was living seconds before. I had to look away - and so did Miah, but she was laughing. She can’t hear herself, only feel the vibration in her own throat. Her laughs kind of sound almost honking, choked-off, just totally un-self-conscious noises she’s barely aware of.

I should tell her that I like the way she laughs.

Oh, I absolutely should not do that.

Maybe I should, though.

She grinned at me, still laughing, and signed, “This is disgusting!”

“It is,” I signed back, “And it’s your fault, don’t forget that!”

She was still laughing when Kima looked back up at us, fish bits smeared around his mouth, and she signed, “Merry Christmas, K-I-M-A,” to him. He stared back, signed yes, and then dove back under the water, present utterly devoured, leaving only gross little particles I will probably have to hose off the sides of the tank on cleaning day when the filters can’t quite pick them up.

Miah looked at me, and I just thought, you know, she’s really pretty even under the sun lamps, and nobody is pretty in that light. Then she signed, after this moment of stillness, “I bought you a present, too.”

“Me?” I pointed back at myself, blinking, surprised. “I don’t do Christmas, M, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “I know. But I still bought a present. Can I show you?”

“Um, sure.” I get nauseous when I’m nervous. For a second, climbing back down the ladder, I thought I’d just get sick all over myself. I was badly designed, my defense mechanism is just to vomit on myself to scare predators away, clearly my body thinks pretty women are dangerous and I have to embarrass myself until they stop looking at me.

Finally, though, we were back at my desk. The smell… lingered. I’ve since burned the candle Miah got me, and the sulfur from the matches and the scent of the candle itself have largely done away with it, but when we got back, it was still powerful. 

She didn’t pull anything out of the bag, instead she just took a small card out of her back pocket and handed it to me. 

I looked down at it. “Alborz?” I realized I’d spoken out loud, looking down, and looked back up quickly so I could repeat it in sign, so she could see. “A-L-B-O-R-Z? A gift card to a restaurant?”

She nodded, quickly, signing so fast I was having trouble keeping up. I guess… was she nervous, too? “It’s food like you grew up with, yes?”

“Yeah, more or less. I mean nothing is better than my mother’s food. But why-”

She reached out and grabbed my arm with one hand to stop me, leaned in so close that the smell of this super subtle perfume she wears was stronger, for a second, than the smell of fish. “B,” She signed, with heavy, slow emphasis, “Think about why I bought you this.”

I just looked at her. I didn’t get it at all, and told her so.

I’m so bloody dense.

She sighed, throwing her hands up in the air with an eye-roll and a smile, and then signed, “When are you taking me there?”

She had to repeat the signs three times before I realized she was asking me on a date.

So anyway, I don’t think I’ll sleep a wink tonight, and also I think I celebrate Christmas now.

Date-mas.

That was an awful joke. I’m leaving it there just to properly shame myself if I ever reread this.

---

@astrobly  @burtlederp   @finder-of-rings   @slaintetowhump   @moose-teeth   @misspelledwitch   @whumpfigure   @whumptywhumpdump   @boxboysandotherwhump   @whumpywhumpwhump   @yet-another-heathen   @fanmanga1357-blog @justabitofwhump  

[mylifeasaserver]

My 4th of July Weekend: Master Post

Normally I’d have broken this up into 3 separate posts, but since anything that isn’t a meme gets about 6 notes, I’ll do what I want.

July 3

8AM - My phone rings, it’s the GM calling to ask me to come in ASAP because of callouts. It goes to voicemail because I’m not waking up - much less getting out of bed - this early for what I already know will be a shit show.

10AM - Wake up, notice a voicemail. I don’t listen to it or clear the notification.

11AM - Finish scrolling through the memes and videos my friend sent me, taking care not to clear any notifications. I know what’s up here and I’m not playing.

4PM - Show up at work right at my scheduled time and am asked why I didn’t answer my phone or call back. Well [GM] I’m not paid to be on call so I do what I want. Pretend not to have seen the notification. Get a section.

4:02PM - Somehow have 8 tables in my 5 table section because the server next to me wants cut and is refusing to take his 4 tables. Alert GM to this problem.

4:04PM - Other server is all kinds of pissed off at me, but fuck him in particular. 

5PM - Other server is cut, leaves without doing his side work, section, or rolling silverware. In fact, all of day shift leaves without doing their side work, meaning we have to stock while we work which is a shit sandwich all its own.

5:30PM - Get sat a party of 13. Get assigned a new server to take it with me. He disappears when we’re supposed to greet. Find out later he decided to hide in the bathroom.

5:45PM - Party of 13 has drinks, and the order is in. I’m asked why the other server’s section looks like shit. GM is displeased with my response of “the lazy ass didn’t bother cleaning it. Didn’t do his side work either.”

6:30PM - Kitchen finally gets the food out for the party of 13. New server actively avoids the 13 top, which is just as well since at this point I’m not splitting the tip with him.

7PM - 7 separate checks later, the 13 top is done and leaving. Reap the rewards of about $8 on their $200 bill. They thank me for the excellent service, but don’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under the mask. Immediately upon clearing the tables, get sat a 14 top.

7:05PM - New server comes looking for his share of the tip. I tell him to go away. No work = no tip. He runs to the night manager.

7:10PM - Night manager tells the new server he’s on the 14 top with me and he best actually serve them this time. He doesn’t. He’s still pissed off he didn’t get half of the $8.

8PM - 14 top is finishing eating, new server hasn’t been to the table a single time. He walks past, picks up a plate and makes it a point to tell the night manager he’s helped me.

8:15PM - 14 top is done paying, I reap the rewards of $15 on their $150 bill. Much like the last table the thank me for the excellent service but don’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under the mask. New server sees them hand me money and comes asking about his share. Gets the finger. In retrospect, probably shouldn’t have flipped him off on camera.

10:30PM - Last table finally leaves. New server tries to leave without doing his side work or section. He’s very displeased when he learns that night shift doesn’t do that and vows to only work day shift from now on. We all think that would be best.

11PM - Kitchen and dining rooms are finally clean and I make my escape. For all the bullshit I put up with I get about 8% on sales. The people coming in normally can’t afford to vacation in this tourist trap, but covid has dropped the rates enough for them to slither out from whatever hell that spawned them.

July 4

5PM - Show up to my host shift. This is a favor to the night manager, otherwise I’d never have done it. Seat a total of three tables in the next hour.

6:15PM - All hell breaks loose. We’re 40 people over capacity and telling people to wait outside after putting them on a wait. We have thirty takeouts waiting to come out, and people chewing my ass about having to wait. I tell them to social distance away from the podium unless they want removed from the wait list.

7PM - Wait list is at an hour. One woman in particular is having a hard time with it and looks in the dining room and sees a table with nobody at it, and demands to be sat there. No. Some tables are deliberately left empty due to social distancing. She demands a manager. I tell her no, I am the manager. I’m told what an incompetent moron I am, so I remove her from the wait list and tell her to eat somewhere else. She leaves, and takes her party of 7 with her. Not a tipping table anyway.

8PM - I help servers out by bussing and resetting their tables for them - whether they like it or not. Wait list is still an hour, many people choose not to wait and leave. I wouldn’t wait either. Some tables get tired of waiting for their food to come just leave. Kind of stupid since they waited an hour for a table, but that’s their business.

9PM - The server who yesterday leaves without doing side work or anything else orders me to stop seating him because he wants to leave. He’s told it has to come from a manager. Instead of getting the manager (Captain Hindsight) he chooses to leave his tables dirty so I can’t seat him.

9:10PM - I’ve cleared and reset and sat all 4 tables in his section. We’re still on a wait and until the Captain tells me to stop seating him, I’ll do what I’m supposed to because it pisses him off and that pleases me like you wouldn’t believe.

9:15PM - Captain Hindsight emerges from the office where she’s been hiding all evening to come chew on my ass. The server that wanted to leave whined that I sat him too fast, but neglected to mention about coming to the host stand to demand I stop seating him and not clearing his tables. When she tells me she should have expected me to screw it up I clocked out and left. My end time was in another 45 minutes, but I’m not paid enough for that level of bullshit. I tell the Captain I’m leaving so she can do a better job of it and walk out into the balmy air and go home.

July 5

5PM - I show up for my shift and am promptly pulled into the office with the GM and the Captain to explain why I left. I explain, and tell the GM that I’m not putting up with that shit. He knows. He also knows that I’m too lazy to make shit up and tells me to go get my section. I don’t know what - or if - anything else was discussed. 

5:10PM - Go to the host stand to find out my section and discover I have 5 tables already. Host can’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under my mask.

5:30PM - Got the 5 tables sorted, with drinks, and orders in. Kitchen is running tickets nearly an hour long. I make sure all the tables know this up front. Discover that like always, day shift didn’t bother with side work.

6:30PM - All 5 tables finally have food, one demands a discount for waiting. Since I already know there’s no tip coming, it’s denied. He was told up front that the wait could be up to an hour, chose to stay.

7:30PM - All 5 tables have paid and left. The table that I suspected would leave no tip surprises me by leaving a whole dollar behind. Assholes.

7:45PM - I have five new tables. The last one is a 5 top. One of the women at the table - clearly the leader of this little squad of shitheads - orders a water with lemon for everybody at the table and dismisses me with a wave of her hand. I stay and tell them the featured food and what food is prepared the fastest - and let them know it’s taking about an hour for food to come out. This obviously pisses her off a bit because I didn’t scurry when she wanted. I decide that she’s Sergeant Karen, and the mental image of her being a frumpy fat drill instructor pleases me.

7:55PM - I bring the waters with lemons and begin taking food orders at the 5 top. Everybody at the table orders a drink with their food. Sergeant Karen tells me that if the food isn’t ready in 30 minutes, they’re leaving. I tell her that I can’t force her order ahead of other people, and ask if she’d just like to leave now because it won’t be ready. She says no. 

8PM - Their order is in and I tell Captain Hindsight about her threat. I also tell her that she should expect to be demanded at the table.

8:05PM - Two of my five tables get their food because they ordered the things that I said cook exceptionally fast. Sergeant Karen shows me the timer on her phone already at seven minutes. I tell her that means she only has 53 minutes to go. 

8:30PM - Sergeant Karen demands a manager. She can’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under my mask. I get Captain Hindsight.

8:35PM - Sergeant Karen doesn’t make good on her threat to leave, instead ordering Captain Hindsight to give them a “substantial discount” for their inconvenience. To her credit, the Captain reminds her that I said that it was an hour wait and there would be no discount. 

8:40PM - Sergeant Karen makes a big display of packing up her stuff, but doesn’t actually go anywhere. Two more of my tables get their food, and the two that got their food earlier get their checks and pay. Sarge then demands to know how they got their food so fast and is immediately unhappy when I tell her it’s because they ordered the things that I said cook fastest.

8:55PM - The food arrives for the 5 top, brought out by my coworkers since I had other shit to do (fixing the mistakes of a newer server.) Sergeant Karen again demands a manager.

9PM - Captain Hindsight goes to the table and again a discount is demanded...but ultimately denied.

9:15PM - Sergeant Karen changes a diaper. On the table. While everybody is eating. It smells like a septic tank backed up into a nursing home. She then puts it under the table for reasons unknown.

9:30PM - I get two more tables, and two more get their checks. The kitchen is closer to caught up and it’s only taking about 30 minutes for food to come out.

9:45PM - Sarge hears me tell my new tables to expect about a 30 minute wait for food and again demands the manager. I flatly say “no.”

9:47PM - I drop the check at the table and Sarge complains one final time about how unfairly she was treated. She can’t see me mouthing “fuck you” under my mask, but the realization that I really don’t give a shit hits her and she passes the check to the poor bastard that married her. 

10PM - The restaurant closes, and Sergeant Karen leaves. Before she goes, however, she picks up the filthy folded up diaper and drops it on the host stand. Lovely.

10:30PM - The last of my tables leave, and I discover that I made over 21% on the evening - despite Sarge making sure I got no tip from her group. This would be great but with the kitchen so backlogged I still didn’t make squat. Fuck it. 

11PM - All the shit I needed to do is done. Captain Hindsight asks me what was up with that 5 top, but doesn’t see me mouthing “fuck you” at her. I just shrug my shoulders and go home.

It’s like a barely-readable story that nobody wants to scroll through. -J

[anteroom-of-death]

Life, for Dummies p1

a/n: plz love me and go easy. i haven’t written anything since dodos were alive....

You were new to the “fam”. The Doctor picked you up randomly like a stray. Not that you minded most days. It felt like transfering to a school in March: the middle of the semester. And much like high school, friends groups were already formed. Hell, you couldn’t believe that Yaz and the Doc weren’t slamming each other against the walls and making out running down corridors and such. 

Graham especially treated you well. Like a pottering but wicked smart granddad. Ryan too, you could bond over basketball and other fun stuff. But still. A second out of step. Any time you had these thoughts, you shoved it down and cursed not totally growing out of your middle school “I’m not like other girls!” mindset. Which, what the fuck? You were a grown ass woman. 

“Y/N?” the Doctor said waving a hand in front of you, snapping you from your reverie as you came to the present. You are on Gallifrey and there’s some psycho of the week- named the Master looking ferally at you all like he was planning what bathtub you’d wake up in with a kidney missing. You totally zoned out. The Wii Mii music might as well be what plays when you enter a room. 

Shaking yourself you tried to size up the current threat. So- this is where the Doctor’s from? No bad considering it looked like a mix between Dresden after the bombing and Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It had lots of open fields. Big skies. Plenty of sunlight from two burning suns so no “When the street lights kick on, you come back in!” The image of a tiny little blonde baby-Doc bobbing around chasing space fireflies was cute. 

Damn reveries. 

“Be afraid Doctor!” He said five minutes earlier. 

How could anyone be afraid of that. Sure when swapping past stories they told you he was crazy and killed people. The grunting he made coming through the portal was not something fearful. They were oddly sexual. The Doctor’s greatest enemy? Was right before you?

“I should have had more coffee!” You whined under your breath. Honestly. All this running, you didn’t know if you needed to mainline Folger’s or get one of those dorky water packs suburban white dads had for hiking.

This fucker grinned at that. “You’re funny!” He giggled pointing at you. Figures he had like, super sonic hearing. “You didn’t tell me you had funny little humans with you this time!” 

“Hilarious dude! Can you even reach the shelves in the grocery store?” It was a pithy attempt at humor. The man had no right calling humans small. 

He laughed and looked like he was debating killing you. He gave a resounding twirlin’ and then went onto monologue as if he were written by Joss Wheden. Mainly at the Doctor. But he kept glancing over at you. Yaz and Ryan were obviously acting on primal instinct of figuring how to take the Master down and Graham looked half bored. They’d met him before. Graham looked like he was just waiting for it to be done. Graham was chill. Reliable. He didn’t fly off the handle as much as the rest of you all. He was older. He was one margarita away from becoming a Parrothead. You liked that. 

The Master’s glances felt disarming. Like he’d already seen you without your clothing. Not that it felt like a bad thing. He wasn’t unattractive as far as aliens went. Actually, kind of hot. The kind of hot you’d go for if it wasn’t for the fact he was massively evil, tried to kill all humans, and is currently being a bastard to your close friends. Something unique about his clapping. You did that when you were over excited. 

He was dashing. 

His eyes were large and just drew you in, mentally you knew every time he glanced over. Like he wanted to let you know it was for you and you alone. And he was fit, still soft. Something about the soft jaw, slight roundness to thighs and slight slouch of the tummy. The swagger and toothy grins? His skin looked soft and nice too. Crazy fashion sense. Maybe the inability to dress yourself was a Time Lord thing? 

G-d, those lips, so round and full and a nice color. You shoved a thought about, other parts being that color away. Were you really here, having a team huddle, imagining the evil bad man’s cock? Desperation, party of one. You hadn’t been laid in a long time, but really?

“Y/N!” Yaz asked as you looked over and the Master smirked directly at you, like he knew you were trying to picture his cock at that moment. “What do you think?”

You groaned, “I don’t know!” your voice peaked a hoarse few octaves. The Master had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even touch you. 

“He seems mega powerful.” You throw your hands out to exaggerate. He turned and pointed you out, “You have no idea what powers I have.”

“Man, shut the fuck up, or I’m gunna hit you.” You said plainly. Your eyes rolled back into your skull. You were suddenly your normal self again. He was just some dude, like any you’d see on the streets trying to undermine your confidence or get you to give him the time of day.

“No you won’t.” And he was right. 

So you all just followed the lead of your fearless leader, the Doctor…

_________________________3 Weeks Later __________________________

You were back home. It was Corona Time. And definitely not the fun kind. You were worried absolutely sick. Was the Doctor alive? What about Gallifrey? What was all of that? So many questions raced through your quarantined mind. That and a few errant daydreams about the Master taking you with what you assumed had to be a massive cock. What was that overused phrase you’d seen the internet use? Big Dick Energy? The man had got to have had a set of cojones on him for the amount.

You couldn’t shake that son of a bitch from your mind. 

He was hauntingly attractive. But evil. You were in a moral panic 24/7. You felt like those soulfully pained eyes followed you around your house all the time. 

You were trying to focus on finding work from home jobs that were legitimate. You gave up your career to run around and play 5th wheel and now you were paying. Shelter inside? More like buying lots of unneeded skincare to fill a new void in you.

You were just ready to click “apply” on Indeed when those asthmatic engine noises started pounding in your yard. Was that the Doctor? Saving you from going insane and buying the 200 plus dollars in your cart on DHC’s webstore. 

No, you didn’t see a kitschy blue box, but a stately match for your shed, but nicer. 

Who should appear? But the rat bastard himself. 

Boy, you were so screwed.

Suddenly he smiled politely and waved at you through the window. He pointed at your back door and was asking to be let in. 

Cautiously you opened the window. “Go away, Master.” 

“Is that polite to say? I’m your first visitor in weeks and you shove me-” He faux-shocked put his hand over his mouth “away?” You couldn’t tell if he was faking being insulted or for reals.

“I’d shove Timmy down a well if he killed my best friend and all her people.”

“Let me in, I just want to talk.” He opened his hand like he was caught red handed. 

You slammed the window down harder than probably recommended. You felt the slam’s noise in your jaw. He’d get the message maybe. Or maybe you’d let him in and pin his ass to the living room carpet. Choices, choices. You went back and clicked ‘place order’, your bank account app dinged and said you had less than fifty dollars left. No one was going nowhere so it didn’t matter. You finished your tea in a few gulps. You made your choice. 

Opening up the window, you shouted “Take off your jacket and place all of your weapons and your TARDIS key on the patio. Shoes too. Toss them into the Rose of Sharon.” You’d be damned if he was gonna kill you in your own house, surrounded by your own possessions, in your own damn town. 

“What’s a Rose of Sharon Y/N?” He asked, genuinely confused. “It’s the dead bush that’s claimed the entire ramp up to my patio…” Sighing you pointed at it. 

He giggled and obliged. 

Always giggling. 

He knocked as you were rooting for your sharpest whatever you could find. You opened the door and ushered him in. Almost comically, you began patting him down and weidling your weapon of choice. Excellent ass, you had to admit. Soft, yet firm. 

“Having a good feel, love?” He asked as you were admiring it. 

“Hey, you never know…” You off-brand sighed. He was nice to touch. It was addictive. 

He paced around your home, looking at the photos of you and your family. The stack of bills in boxes, your life. Like he was examining art in a museum. 

“I don’t appreciate you fondling my fruit.” You said when he’d made his way into your kitchen. 

He grinned, “Isn’t it customary for you humans to offer a beverage or a snack to guests?” 

Massaging your temples you handed him one of those nutri grain granola bars that crumble everywhere and a can of Coke. 

“Not very much, huh?” 

“There's a pandemic out there you dense motherfucker!” You shouted almost singing the words “pandemic” and “motherfucker”, throwing your arms upwards for examples.

You felt like you could swear around him. With the rest of your current social circle you felt like there was a PG-13 limit to your speech. 

“Forgive me.” He rolled his eyes. Tit for tat matching you. He leaned heavy on his seat and opened up the can and drank politely. You almost believed him

“So why are you here?” sitting down across from him cracking your finger joints and wrists out of habit. “Run out of people to piss off in space?” 

“Oh, always plenty there.” 

You snorted. 

“You seem very sure of yourself. Different from her other little pets.” He said. “Or, is it just a show…” He bore directly into your soul. “I’d believe it.” You glared at him, still holding your weapon, sure it wasn’t much. But to quote a legend “That’s my purse, I don’t know you!”

“You know what they say when you assume…” You put it out there.

“I don’t know!” He fumed on a hairpin notice. “Something about a donkey!”

“Relax, Jeeze.” You let out a nervous chuckle.

He grinned that megawatt, perfectly white smile with teeth better than most Hollywood actors. 

“You’re bored.” He observed.

“I’ve been confined in my house for three weeks.” You stated.

“What if...you weren’t.” He weighed the words out. Almost physically with his hands. G-d those hands. How soaked in blood were they? But how dexterous were they? You swatted away thoughts of how nice they’d be buried in you, “Oy, gevalt!” You said. Noticing you had been staring at his fingertips for a second too long…

“You seem distracted...Is it me? Is the Doctor’s little pet wanting to try out some real leadership?” He mocked, but there was some other little tone to it. Care? Amusement? Yearning? A combination of all four? Who knows. You didn’t.

His eyes had the most whimsical gorgeous glow, and his eyelashes had the most attractive flutter.

“Ya caught me!” You barked with all the false sarcasm you could feign. 

“Oh, I promise that I won’t blow up any planets, kick any orphans, wreck a ship carrying puppies and kittens for adoption... I’ll just show you the real way to see the stars. None of that running through corridors and fighting for your life. The way it should be seen.” He said, his nice waistcoat coated in crumbs. 

“Or are you a coward? Afraid to see the other side of the coin? Y/N.” You were inherently a little bit of a coward. He crooked a crooked grin.

You pondered and helped yourself to an apple. Hoping that he’d see your teeth and that’d be another layer of “Don’t fuck with me, Please!” Though you desperately almost craved to be fucked with at this point.

You pause and consider this, is it betrayal? To follow your instincts and go off with a literal madman instead of your new “fam” because and called you on your self-sure bullshit?

“Is she alive? Is the Doctor alive?” You pleaded. A bit of tears threatening to come up.

“Yes, of course.” He assured you. It was very comforting. He slowly grabbed at your hand. “I may not be a man of a lot of truths, but I’ll tell you this. She always somehow comes out on top. It’s frustrating.” The warmth was real in his voice and in his eyes.

You closed your eyes and willed yourself sane. But the little nagging at your core said to. Give in, give up. Go with him. 

“‘Kay.” You nodded. Suddenly sullen. “I’ll go.” The smile you gave was tired and you got up. You were almost shaking. He touched you and you came undone. This was not healthy. You’d blame the self-isolation, but deep down you knew it went deeper. Your jaw was trembling a bit. Self-preservation was gone. 

You screwed yourself up again and poked a finger on his chest. “Try anything funny that gets me killed and I’m stabbing you.” 

“No, you won’t.” This time, it was an order. An order wrapped in velvet and coated in chocolate.

You turned to go pack and he grabbed at your wrist. “No, you don't need that. I got a wardrobe department worthy of choice.” He grabbed at his shirt and brandished his look. 

“Fine.” You said. So tired, but feeling more alive than you had in years at once. 

Grabbing your hand and all his stuff out of your yard he pulled you into his TARDIS and it left. Off to the next….

[prorevenge]

My wannabe fashionista coworker always threw shade at me for being frumpy. She looked frumpier, unemployed!

TL;DR at the bottom

*******

I worked at a popular, high end clothing store while I was in graduate school (I'm an engineer). I won't name the brand, but it's the sort that charged $50 for a pair of male boxer briefs, $200 for a lady's fancy bra, or $400 or more for a pair of jeans, $1,000 or more for those skinny suits that hip guys wear to their job, where the hems of their pants reveal that they're wearing loafers without socks.

The clothes there weren't really my style but the starting pay was two dollars higher than minimum wage, and higher than most of the other, surrounding stores. This was at a rich people shopping center, where lots of people who shop there are wannabe celebrities and constant selfie-takers.

I was surprised to get hired there, but was relieved that I wouldn't have to really do customer service, as I worked only in the stock room. I'd put out clothes on the shelves and racks before and after closing, and also arrange everything in the back to make it organized. I was also trained so that in emergency situations I could cover register if we were short handed, so that the regular associates could go on break.

I was hardly seen by customers, but I still had to wear the clothes the store sold, to promote the image of the company. I didn't, thankfully, have to wear the dainty little suits, but I did sport the jeans and other casual things we sold.

It was a job. I didn't love it and I didn't hate it. I just worked, took my pay, went to school, and went home.

At least that's the way it was for two months.

After those two months, "Jessica" began to work during the same hours as me. She was about my age (I was 22), maybe twenty five, tops. She didn't work in the stock room (it was just me back there, with one or two other college guys), but worked the front. She wasn't the manager, or even a supervisor, but she SWORE she was in charge of me.

She made it known to everyone, even customers, that she graduated with an associates degree in fashion marketing from FIDM. I suppose it's a big deal but I was thinking girl if you're a college graduate why are you bragging about it as if it has something to do with you folding jeans and ringing people up at the register? She talked like she was fashion expert and in the "fashion industry," and would talk about the New York or Paris fashion weeks in a familiar way that implied that she just got of the plane after attending these events personally. You know the type, the kind that talks about famous fashion designers by their first name, as if they knew them.

Well she always criticized the way I wore the jeans because I didn't tuck in my T-shirt like the mannequin, or that I work Chuck Taylors on my feet instead of the little leather Sperry Topsiders knockoffs we sold for $300.

We were given a clothing allowance as employees. As a stockperson, I was allowed three complete outfits for free, everything from tops, to underear, to socks, and pants (but not shoes). If I wanted more and it was specifically for wearing at the store, I could mark it as a "uniform purchase" and have the price deducted from my check a little at a time. This was advantageous because they wouldn't charge you tax for them, and charge you only a third of the retail price.

Uniform Purchase was distinctly separate from "Store Discount," for which we also received a percentage off, but it wasn't the incredible 66% discount we got for uniform purchases.

Jessica would snicker at me when I took over register for someone, shake her head or roll her eyes at me as if I looked really ugly. I'm always thinking, whatever girl, you wannabe model you aren't even hot and you're not the boss, who are you? But I held my tongue.

She'd also complain if I was supposedly not fast enough in grabbing a size medium from the back because a customer is requesting the dress and all we have on the floor are smalls and larges. She'd trash me to the customer and when I showed up would sarcastically say "finally!" and turn to the customer with a "see what I have to put up with?" expression.

She was especially mean if any customers got chatty with me and treated me with respect. And if those customers were female and were getting flirty with me, Jessica would be a total cockblock.

The real manager, Paula, had their own issues to deal with beyond petty bickering between a stockboy and an entry level sales associate with delusions of "Project Runway" grandeur. The assistant manager, another fashion industry wannabe named "Heather," was just like Jessica, but thankfully I hardly interacted with her. According to my coworkers, Heather was just as bad as Jessica.

Even though I didn't plan on making this store my career, and even though Jessica didn't bother me THAT much, I thought it won't hurt to get this bitch fired.

To her face, I'd just smile and act like I was following her orders happily, or didn't mind when she would point at me rudely, or snap her fingers at me like she was calling a dog.

Jessica would always hear a directive from one of the managers, and then go around telling the other employees what to do, as if they didn't have ears. She'd try to act as if it was HER directive. LOL.

Her coworkers who were the same "rank" as her would sometimes vent to me about how Jessica acted like she was in charge, when in some cases she had even less time in the company than other employees on the floor.

I noticed that when I arranged clothes in back, especially big ticket, desirable clothes that were seen in magazines in our company's advertisement campaigns, she'd "order" me to set aside things in her size.

I'd do it, because it's my job to set aside things if employees want to buy them outright at a discount or put it as a uniform purchase.

Whenever an employee was on register (really, a big Ipad with a cash drawer beneath), you could tap in a code and the register would show a rundown of every non-customer transaction that employees performed that day, and with a few more keystrokes, their transactions over MANY days. The managers knew this code, of course, and I'll assume Jessica knew the code too because Heather shared the code with her.

I WASN'T supposed to know the code, but I did, because there's a mirror in the wall behind the register, and I was re-stocking paper handbags behind Heather when I saw her tap in her four digit code. She assumed I was stupid and didn't understand the incredibly complex wizardry that is a two year old, low-end spec Ipad.

I knew Jessica was getting rung up for "uniform purchases" when she should have been getting rung up for regular employee discount.

She assumed that when I set aside all those expensive items for her, that I was too dumb to know what she was doing, just because I might have something of a mouth breather countenance.

Even if I look on the surface like a fugitive from the trailer park, something told me Jessica wasn't going to be using $800 heels, a $500 dress, and $1200 motorcycle jacket while working at the store.

And anyway, I asked around. No one saw Jessica wearing any of the truly fancy clothes she bought at our store at what the other employees assumed was simply a regular employee discount.

I thought maybe she was being honest, too. It WAS possible, after all, because I didn't always work with her. Maybe she wore evening dresses to work on her other shifts? Whatever, I decided to make sure.

One time when everyone was busy doing other stuff and the store had to resort to putting me on the register, I typed in Heather's code and pulled up Jessica's purchases. As I suspected, she had bought thousands of dollars worth of our store's best items, but put them all as "uniform purchases" and not at her regular discount.

So I swiped "print" and the register switches from the regular tape to the 8.5"x11" printer beneath the counter, and a complete rundown of all of Jessica's purchases come out.

I highlight all the most expensive items that she was charged for "uniform purchase" (such as, her $1200 jacket would only be $300, and even that was tax free and she got to pay it little by little).

I knew that my manager, Paula, wasn't exactly a nuclear physicist and she was more interested in moving up the chain of command to be working at a job higher than store manager in the company, so as long as her store's sales numbers looked good she didn't care what her assistant Heather did.

Except, if it was a violation of company policy that might reflect badly on her.

I knew Heather was in on Jessica's scam because you're not allowed to ring yourself up at the store, you have to have someone else do it, and none of the other associates would want to conspire with her for fear of getting fired or worse.

To make sure, I printed HEATHER's purchase history too. I didn't see Heather as often as I saw Jessica, but I could also see really glaring red flags on her purchase report. Like, she bought a $900 nightclub dress as a uniform purchase, which I'm quite sure she never wore to work. I did the same highlighting on suspicious items as I did with Jessica's.

Then, because none of this was REALLY my business, I was just a part time asshole who worked in the stockroom, I waited for the most fun opportunity to lower the boom.

Jessica got on her little bluetooth earpiece that she wears on he sales floor that she thinks makes her look like a VIP, and says, "OP, I'm going to need XXX in a size small, customer waiting, get the lead out." So I bring the item, and Jessica says I'm "not passing muster." I thought wow Jessica you sounded really 1940s there, you wannabe pinup girl LOL.

After the customer leaves, Jessica says, "I'm going to need you to go on a trash run and sweep out the receiving bay. And I need you to cover Annie's lunch."

I laugh and tell her, "who died and made you supervisor, you fucking headass burnout?"

She looks like she was the fucking Crypt Keeper for a second and that she wanted to punch me, before she remembered that I'm 6'2" and outweigh her by a hundred pounds.

She hisses, "You are SO fired, you fucking geek. Heather's going to hear about this."

I tell her, "Fuck you, I'm going to lunch."

And I clock out and leave.

When I come back, I see Jessica immediately get on her little earpiece.

Before I even reach the stock room, Heather is there, and the manager Paula intercept me.

"Annie, can you cover register? We have an urgent matter to deal with."

I know I'm supposed to be fired.

Which is why, during my lunch, I went to the copy place and made PDF scans of the printouts I made for Jessica and Heather. I had all the corporate bigshots' emails. They were in the new hire handbook all of us get when we start working. I saved a draft to each but didn't hit SEND yet. I had the printouts as attachements. In the BODY of my email, I described exactly what had been going on. I did send ONE email. And that was to Paula the manager, herself.

But I didn't press SEND until we were on our way to the employee break room.

Paula tells me, "OP, Heather sent me a text that says you were verbally abusive to Jessica. Heather herself says that Jessica has complained to her on numerous occasions that you are a substandard employee, and only her own, personal kindness has presented her from firing you. I came in myself to see if you have anything to say in order to save your job."

It's been a couple of years so of course that can't be exactly what she said, but it was something typical and rehearsed and faux-professional that any low-level boss would say when trying to sound important.

I said I didn't have anything to say in my defense, and that in fact I quit.

Jessica and Heather looked surprised, but then Jessica started smiling.

Paula looked disappointed, and said, "I'm very sorry to hear you say that. You may collect your last..."

"Oh, but before I go, I think you should look at these printouts. I know you don't spend a lot of time studying this stuff, but I thought you might find it interesting. It's the last three months of Jessica's and Heather's employee purchases. Notice how they always ring each other up, and notice all that stuff they're claiming to use as uniforms. If you're having trouble understanding it, I explained it in an email I sent to your cellphone. You should have it already, if you check.

I have the same email ready to go to Dan and Pam and Kimberly and Victor and Kevin but I haven't sent it in yet. I was hoping you could look it over and email me back when you're ready, I mean if you want me to edit anything."

Then I got up and left.

Later that afternoon, my phone was ringing.

It was Paula.

She was practically crying, telling me, please don't send those emails, "I've fired Heather and Jessica. They're GONE. And please don't quit. Please don't tell anyone about--"

I tell her to relax.

I already quit. And I'm keeping my mouth shut.

A few days later, I showed up for my final check. I learned from one of the sales associates that corporate Loss Prevention was called in (our corporate office is only a few miles from the retail location) to interview both Heather and Jessica about their fraud.

In lieu of arrest and heavy fines for what amounted to outright theft and fraud, they were simply fired and unable to use the company as a reference, and due to being fired for cause, could not file for unemployment.

Paula was actually in the store that day, and practically ran to me to thank me for "keeping this scandal at a store level. It's been handled."

I told her no problem. What I didn't tell her was that I never did delete those drafts.

She offered me a reward of free merchandise.

No thanks.

I'm going to look awfully silly in those dainty little suits at my super cool new job of working at Sizzler.

It all ended okay.

A year later I finished my degree, and now I'm doing what I really want to do. Except now at my job, guess what we have to wear. Yeah. Dainty little suits.

I wear socks, though.

I would have never torpedoed Heather and Jessica if they just left me alone to do my job in peace, and didn't try to feel big and important at my expense.

I would have left them to live in their self-medicating lies, live and let live.

Other than some difficult customers, people like Heather and Jessica are what make working retail such a nightmare for so many.

And that's why I feel no guilt about destroying them.

I'm sure Jessica had lots to talk about at that year's Milan Fashion Week.

Hold this L, bitch.

****************

TL;DR: I was stockboy at a fancy clothes store. A low level associate would always boss me around and call me stupid even though she wasn't in charge. I found out she was stealing from the store. I was mean to her on purpose so that I'd be called in to a manager meeting to be fired. I quit, and presented proof to the manager that the associate and the assistant manager were both thieves. They both got fired. I began work at Sizzler.

(source) story by (/u/SaggingSkinnyJeans)

[the-boiz-blog]

|Hey Princess|

Request: Nope! Fuckboy!Hyunjae 17 Oh bite me and 18 if you insist

Warnings:  Suggestive/Angst/Fluff/Cursing

Word count: 1,926

So college is fun 

Especially when you have a fuckboy attached to your hip everyday trying to get into your pants

Who’s the fuck boy you may ask? None other than Lee Jae-Hyun 

Or as he insists Hyunjae

You had met him during freshman year

Both of you being bright eyed new college students

At first he seemeed pretty nice

He was up beat and energetic. Happy go lucky sort of dude.

That was until he fell into the wrong crowd

They call them self TheBoyz

The guys who sat on the bleachers and watched cheerleaders practice

But even if they were all fuck boys

They had good traits

Like Jacob Bae was one of the sweetest people when he wasn’t with the rest of The Boyz

Anyway back to Hyunjae

You two were Majoring in the same thing so you had to see him in most of your classes throughout the day

You two had ended up sitting together in your English Lit class

And you hit it off right away

You two would stay up all night at times helping each other write papers and going on study dates

He became your best friend

And then the Spring Break of freshman year happened

He met some guys theboyz while you were at a party

The reeled him into their group

They got him incredibly drunk and he suddenly couldn't keep his dick in his pants trying to get with every girl in site

You had found him on the couch with some girl hangin off of him

You asked him if you could go

But he just looked at you 

“Why don’t you just leave by yourslef? You don’t need anyone there with you. You’ll be fine.”

You walked out of the party that without a best friend

It wasn't like anything drastic happened really

But after that night he just completely ignored you

Until your second semester of sophomore year (current time)

You two were partnered up with each other for your final project with 60% of your grade  

You had texted him telling him to come to your dorm so you could work on the project

He knocked on the door and you let him

He was on his phone and wasn’t paying anykind of attention to you

You tried to get him to help you but he wouldn’t listen to you

“Alright listen if you’re aren’t going to help then why did you even come?”

He looked up at you and then stood up from the chair he was sitting in

“Why do you think?” He looked down towards his pants then back up to you with a suggestive smile

You grabbed a pillow from the couch and threw it at him “You’re disgusting”

“Oh come on you can’t tell me you actually wanted to do this dumb project

“Uh yeah I do. It is kinda of really important”

“Yeah ok whatever let’s get to the fun part”

“Actually no there is no fun part. Now get out of my dorm. I’ll do the project just leave me alone”

When Hyunjae got back to TheBoyz hangout he recounted the story

And a bet was put on the table

200 dollars to make you fall in love with him before the project due date

that was 3 months to make his once best friend who now kind of hates him fall in love with one of the biggest fuckboys in school

But what TheBoyz didn’t know was you had been in love with Hyunjae since freshman year

But your minor in theatre was rather helpful when it came to hiding that

The next day Hyunjae sent you a text asking you to meet him at the library around 4

When you got there he was there with some books and two (2) iced coffee 

He turned and flashed a smile at you

That damn smile that made you melt inside 

“Hey Princess, I got you an iced macchiato. I remember those were your favorite.”

You stood for a moment confused

Why on Earth would that be something he remembered?

You sat down and actually got some work done

But you knew it was too good to be true so you decided to test the waters

“So how much do you get if you win the bet?”

He looked at you confused

“What do you mean bet? I’m just here to do this pointless project and I brought coffee since I figured we’d be here awhile. Can’t have the smarter of us two falling asleep now can we?” 

He reached over and pinched your cheek

Something he used to always do to you

You swooned for a moment before getting it together

You were still suspicious

None of TheBoyz could be trusted

Especially in a situation like this where he changed his tune so quick

But hey he brought coffee so at least you were getting something out of it

Months later you two were seeing each other pretty much every day 

Your feelings for him were slowly resurfacing as he was acting like himself before he left you

But it was only when you two were alone

In class or anywhere else he still pretty much ignored you

“Alright Hyunjae. Can you tell me what the hell is going on with you?”

You were sitting in your dorm watching a movie when you asked him

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Don’t know what I’m talking about. You literally just dropped me and our friendship last year. You never said another word to me after that party.  I lost my best friend. I lost the person I had fallen in love with. And now you just decide to pop back into my life like nothing happened. So I’ll ask again. What the hell is going on?”

His jaw hung open not quite sure how to respond

“You..you fell in love with me?”

“Is that really the only part of what I just said that you caught onto?”

“No no its not but I just, I had no idea you had felt that way. Look I gotta go i’ll see you later okay?”

He got up and left you in his dorm all by yourself; Confused

Eric one of his roomates walked out of his room after hearing the whole thing. 

“So like are you really in love with him? Cause if so I think you should probably go after him. Bring him back here though we gotta talk about something important”

You walked out the front door to Hyunjae standing in the hallway

He seemed upset

“Look I’m sorry if I freaked you out, but Eric sai that you need to come back in to talk about something important”

“He did?”

“Yeahhh”

“Shit”

He walked back into the dorm room you silently following after him

Eric was sitting on the couch counting out some cash

“Hey Hyunjae dude we said 200 dollars right?

You were confused to say the least 

“200 dollars for what?”

Eric looked over to you

“Your confession”

“So this was a bet? I knew it, God dammit I should have went with my gut from the very beggining! I can't believe you JaeHyun, I thought maybe just maybe after this project we were going to be friends again or maybe even more but after this? You can go fuck yourself” 

And with that you stormed out of his dorm.

You stormed down the hallway to the elevator

You jabbed the button a couple times

You were about to step on when you were grabbed from behind and turned around

Hyunjae had you by the wrist

He turned your palm up and put a wad of cash in it

He closed your hand around it and pushed you the last couple of steps into the elevator

But before it closed you saw the tears that started to roll down his cheeks

You unfolded the money in your hand and counted the bills

200$

Angry and confused you hit the button to open the elevator door but it was to late as it started to go down

When you got to your dorm you texted him and called him but got no response

You sat in bed just staring at the money not to sure why the hell he gave it to you

Was it supposed to be compensation?

To make you feel better for getting your hopes up??

Why the hell was he crying? 

You needed to find out

So you did the only thing that came to mind

You took the money and was out the door on your way to get your supplies

You got back to his dorm about half an hour later 

Two iced machiatos in hand

Hyunjae opened the door after you knocked

“Look I brought you coffee so now you have to answer my question or else it’s just rude”

He stepped to the side so you could enter

You handed him a coffee and took a sip of yours

The two of you stared at each other silently for a couple seconds before you cleared your throat

“At first I was angry but now I’m just sad and confused, I need to know why you gave me 200$ It really makes no sense to me and why were you crying when I was the one who got played?”

“It should be obvious right? I gave you the money because you won the bet, you made me fall in love with you. Sure this thing started because I wanted the money but spending time with you again made me realize how much I missed you. How much I missed your laugh, your smile, your everything. It also made me realize I never really got over my feelings for you and ignoring you, becoming this “fuckboy” was the worst way to get over someone.”

“You really are dumb aren’t you. Jaehyun I love you for you. The boy that would stay up with me to write papers. The boy that would wait for me everyday at lunch so we could eat together. The boy that still has my favorite coffee memorized even after a year. I fell in love with that boy and he’s still in there, I can see him. I just need to know if yor are going to stop pretending to be something you’re not and just be the boy I fell in love with.”

A big grin grew on his face “So you're saying you’ll give me another chance?” 

You rolled your eyes 

“Yes but if you screw up one more time then we’re done for good, got it?”

You  were going in for the hug when the door burst open and in walked TheBoyz

“So I hear the bet has been settled”

You looked over to see them realizing you were in the room

“Yeah it is settled and if I’m brought into something like this again I will not hesitate to end all of you. And yes that includes you Jacob, Mr I volunteer at the animal shelter on Saturday”

Jacob threw his hands up in surrender “Hey I advised them against it, don't blame me.”

Hyunjae laughed and wrapped you in a big back hug resting his head on your shoulder

“I’m never letting you go again and I will protect you from all the gross boys in this room”

“You are also one of those boys you know?”

“Oh bite me”

“If you insist.”

“Hey uh we’re still here”

“We Know”

“We just don’t care”

[katbot]

Siendo deseo, deseo, Nos deseamos

This week’s Thirsty Thursday takes a peek into three different portions of my love life. I’ve been battling with the end game of this project, though it’s (hopefully) at least another 5 months in.

Siendo deseo, deseo, Nos deseamos

It’s been six weeks since my last date. Summer is cascading to an end.

Back from a weekend of Atlantic city debauchery, I decide to throw myself back in the game. I match with A, a 31 year old film maker. His pick up line is a snore. I call him out on it and within two back and forths we’ve switched to text. I’m a woman on a mission.

We decide upon Wednesday, in Harlem. A rare location but I’m vaguely still drunk from the night before; I can’t even entertain the idea of battling the heat without another shower.

I switch into shorts and a tee before grabbing a ten minute bus ride.

The bar is… A shit show.

It’s bingo night and the service is slow. I’m already judging this bloke based on his locale choices. I’ve been waiting for the bartender for about ten minutes when a tall man walks up and says my name.

He looks like a Costco brand version The Weekend. I’m on the fence about it until he opens his mouth for more than three seconds. He has an awful southern accent. When I finally get the bartender’s attention, I pay for the first round and usher us to the back patio.

It’s hot but bearable. He’s drinking a cocktail, me a Lagunitas.

He ask me about my weekend and I highlight the charitable aspect of it. He has the sleepy eyes of the Weekend paired with a defiant slouch. It reminds of a bratty kid in detention.

“Sorry. Am I boring you?” I cut myself off mid sentence, eventually too irritated continue

He apologizes then admits he’s tired.

I mean, I’m tired too but I’m here aren’t I?

I say nothing and he begins telling me about his weekend at Afropunk, a festival created to highlight black arts and music. He spent the past two days, filming it. I’m interested only because my sister has gone multiple times.

He perks up a bit, but I’ve already decided this is a waste of time. I think he can tell because he moves the topic to my profile.

“I love how blunt you are. Your profile says exactly like it is. I was worried I was getting catfish.”

Blunt. Everyone keeps saying that. I mean, I know I am – but I’m not sure it’s a compliment anymore.

“Yeah, I figure honesty is the best policy– Should I get another round?”

He picks up this one. I switch to a gin based cocktail and the conversation of video games. It’s fun, and I haven’t spoken in such detail about Metal Gear and FF3 in such a long time.

He keeps laughing and drops the sentence, “Wow I can’t believe I’m talking to a female about video games.”

It stops me in my tracks, I don’t know when female became a slang word but it’s the absolutely worst. I decide to bite my tongue giving him one more chance. I don’t wanna be relied up this late, I’ve got a drink date with Mike and my heat rash flares up when I’m angry.

We decide to go to one more bar, it’s a speak easy a few blocks down. A tells me about his problems growing up black in Texas. It’s super foreign to me. Growing up in NYC has protected me from many if not all race problems. I nod along feeling sympathy but not empathy. I tune out for a while, and wonder if my future husband will be from New York. They’re so many small nuances the city has built into me that I can’t make exceptions for.

We show up to the second bar, again I’m judging him. This isn’t a speak easy, it’s just a bar with no NAME. I hush my alcohol expert voice away and walk inside. It’s a cute bar but tiny. We grab two stools, right by the kitchen. The conversation is better, we switch to comparing Tinders, Music taste, and even our sex playlist. When I finish my first drink, I ask for a final round. When I look up, I can see he’s toasted. I’m shocked. We’ve had four cocktails….the word tipsy isn’t even in my vocabulary yet.

“You’re drunk.”

“Yeah…but I don’t want to go yet….do you wanna share a drink?”

I laugh. When he doesn’t join me I ask if he’s serious.

“Yeah,” he says. “I wouldn’t be able to finish one myself.”

“Um. Sure.”

He orders an egg white gin based cocktail that I’m positive come in a couplet.

When the waitress comes over and can’t answer if it comes in a couplet, I almost ask her to bring the glass to confirm my suspicions. I decide I’m being an asshole and let him order the drink.

It arrives in a couplet.

We share, this stupidly small drink that’s 90% egg white. I make my sips huge to end this abominable experience.

When the waitress comes around she ask how we liked it.

“Awful, may we have the check please?”

She’s taken aback, but delivers the check.

It sits there for two go rounds, the second time, the waitress picks it up and realizes there is no card down.

I can feel the vein popping out of my forehead, “Are YOU going to PAY for that?”

“Oh yeah.” A hurriedly digs into his wallet and puts down a bright orange card.

Outside, he tells me he doesn’t what the night to end. 

He’s making fuck me eyes, while I rather get punched by racoons.

Lessons learned: N/A  Rating: 3.5/10 App: Tinder

Siendo deseo, deseo, Nos deseamos

Mike shows up at my office unexpected. I hear shuffling feet stop right in front my of door, and when I look over, my heart explodes. I rush over for a hug and even on my tippy toes have no way of reaching the top of him.

We catch an uber to his apartment, which is a mess as per but it’s cozy. I’m stretch out on his couch, while his dog Yogi, yips around me. I love him. Before we head to the bar, I decide to take him for a walk, Mike and I catch up. It’s been almost two months since he left the office. We’ve been texting, but it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other. I forgot how much I’ve missed him.

We drop Yogs off, and head down to Floyd’s, the bar we had our first date in. I make a point to sit in the same exact seats, the universe rewards me because we have the same exact bartender. A few things are different though, I’m a lot less dressed up and a lot more relaxed. Mike and I have been friends for nearly 2 years now.

Built upon many drinks, political text, and basic whinging, we’ve become close friends. Even though, we were accidentally courting while he was on break from his long term girlfriend. I still remember the day I made my move. An uncountable amount of pints, skin tight leggings with perfect makeup, I reached across the table and grabbed for his hand.

“Well….You know how I feel about you…BUTTttt. I don’t know how you feel about me…?”

That night, he paid for our rounds, and we stood in the street trying to work out the past 5 months. He begged us to continue being friends, telling me how much our relationship had changed him, we went back to his to look at pictures of his family. He asked to walk me to the train and shook my head. When he asked if I was okay, I let out a choked “No.” and sobbed the whole way home.

“SO. I got fingered by a TRUMP SUPPORTER THIS WEEKEND.”

He laughs, “How’d you know? His technique?”

We shoot the shit for a couple of hours, but around eight. I can tell he’s tired. Mike’s my friend, but the more we drink, the more I can feel that deep appreaction for him sipping out

We head back to his, and walk Yogs one more time. When he drops off at the train, we both mention how much we miss each other.

I jokingly shout, “YA NOT GONNA GET RID OF ME THAT EASILY, MIKE.”

He screams back, “I DON’T WANT TO!!”

It brings a wistful smile to my mouth.

Rating: Omitted

Siendo deseo, deseo, Nos deseamos

K checks in to see if I’m still down for a drink. I’m on the train back from Mike’s. I forgot we vaguely made plans for tonight. I tell him, I’m leaving work and will be home in about 40 minutes. We arrange to meet on his campus. The 1 train is actually running on time, so I arrive early. I cut across the Columbia campus, texting him to meet me at a local bar called Arts & Crafts.

It’s crowded as fuck, so I head to the bathroom and text K - “Nevermind.”

But when I walk out, I bump into him. He’s holding two pints of beer.

“Fuck.”

“Sorry, I’d already ordered.”

Though, I rather a gin I take the light coloured pint and take a sip.

Yuck it’s a sour. The other is a stout. I’m confused why he ordered two different extremes. I settle on the sour and we grab a bar seat.

He’s cuter than I remember. My memories aren’t that old, considering he’s been texting me nonstop from Iceland. His paleness is still stark, and he’s blonder than ever but his scruff is a plus. We down our beers and head off to find a quieter bar.

I make fun of the college freshman tours mostly to cover for how old I’m currently feeling.

We split a bottle of red wine and I begin to slur. Somehow, probably due to me – we end up at another bar. It’s loud too, but we find a booth in the back that’s quiet.

I’m having an okay time. Drinking mostly to drown thoughts I don’t want to deal with. K is looking at me like I’m a piece of art again. My voice has melted down to a groggy sex drawl.

I like the way K splits drinks. I can pay for things, but most of the time he’s up. I’m all for feminism, but it makes me feel special when guys don’t mind being one or two drinks up.

“It’s good to see you again.”

He leans in for a kiss, it’s nice.

“Thanks you too. But y'know K. You’ve only met me twice.”

“Yes. That doesn’t mean I find you less interesting.”

There’s no hesitation in my voice when I say,

“I want to fuck you, right now, tonight.”

“I would like that.”

We try to find a hotel but I refused to pay 200 dollars in the middle of a night for anything less than a boutique hotel.

He’s sleeping on his friend’s couch, and my roommates are sleeping…

I lose the sex draw, and he pays for a cab back to mine.

He’s the second person I fuck in my tiny bed.

The planks cave in my under my mattress cave, but I don’t care.

He stays the night, despite me telling him I have to get up at seven.

In the morning, he buys me ice coffee and we take the train together.

When his stop arrives, I get up on my toes and we exchange a peck on the lips.

 His hand cupping my waist.

“Have a good day.”

When the train pulls off, I’m disturbed by how routine it felt.

I’m still not sure how I felt about K, but it’s 8am and I can hardly begin to unwrap that.

I blast Keane and flow along with the waves of the train, grateful it’s Friday.

Lessons learned: Try to go more with the flow Rating: 7/10 App: Tinder Extended.

[yukari455]

The fun story of me getting robbed last Thursday!

So yeah based on the title you can only imagine how this story freaking goes. Lets start with i wasn’t home when this happened, but my boyfriend was. 

Average Thursday i wake up day was shit, its holiday season at a grocery store i work at so things were non stop. And usually that’s a good thing but on this day my anxiety wasn’t feeling great so for me i was in a bit of panic mode. So my day goes by i feel like shit and tell my friends all i wanna do is go home. My day ends with me going home at my off time luckily not over it this time (and i don’t get payed overtime so im super thankful i didn’t have to wait till after i was supposed to go home to leave. Because damn do the night managers at our store have a shit time keeping track of when people go home.) So yeah i go home complain about my day to my mother then say “all i wanna do now is just play spyro and relax after my shit day.” which is what i proceed to do.

That is until i grab my controller it the power button and hear no click of the ps4 turning on. I look over to see only my ps3 there, no ps4 in sight. I think oh um maybe my boyfriend needed it for some reason he was home all day. So i ask him if hes seen it, I get a big fat no from him. I proceeded to tell my mom. “um mom my ps4 is missing?” in the most confused tone. Shes like yea sure it didn’t fall off your dresser, im like no those things pretty much don’t move on their own. We then search our house like some shitty scavenger hunt like someone just hid the damn thing and never find it. Thus i start to panic, my mom calls the only two people who have key’s to our house one having a damn good alibi of his gf just having their baby so like hes constantly at the hospital so i kinda instantly ruled him out even though he has a not so clean background. Next is my aunt who living pretty damn far but work by our house, which i don’t know what she said to my mom but it pretty much made us think i don’t think she did it maybe? Ether way lastly i question my boyfriend (who will i ad later is offended that i asked him which i get since we’re pretty certain it isn’t him since he made suggestions to help us that if we used and it was him would make it pretty damn obvious such as us using a electronic code from our wifi router that we could give to Sony and they could track it if it was on and connected to the internet.) So that’s done all suspects questioned and were DAMN confused at this point. They only thing we can think of is that the door was left unlocked, or someone is lying. We then proceed to call the cops which are no help and say its sorta a can’t help thing because we gave family house keys and bs that i got as the reality of the situation but still as a anxiety ridden girl who just lost one of the few things she has to calm the fuck down kinda was like this is so major bowl shit can you at least sound less like you don’t give a shit. So boom done with that at least we have a incident number and shit to give to sony if we need it. But then again i don’t have my serial number for my ps4 so still outa luck. 

So here we come to the good part of our story and conclusion, Today nearly a week later i have good news and bad news. Bad news we still don’t know who stole my ps4 (which i will add all they stole was the PS4 and its tv plug in cords so my power cord and hdmi cord which i only owned one of those so kinda pissed me off more. They also left behind my controller and games which were sitting right next to the damn thing. Also note all my medications were on my computer desk right next to it. All those things still there so the robber wanted to hurt me and only take my ps4 i guess and im assume pawn it since they didn’t take the controllers) So yeah thats the bad news, we also changed our locks and plan to never give out keys to family again since we don’t know who we can trust. Ok so the good news! Since my ps4 went missing my boyfriend has lent me his ps4 to play and use in the meantime since he knows its kinda how i distress and keep from going crazy. Even better news my mothers boyfriend gave her 200 dollars twords getting me a new ps4 so today we were gonna get me one. But things changed without me knowing my father actually purchased a ps4 for me to replace it at a price that i thought was sold out so i was extra surprised he found one for 199.99. So at least things are gonna sorta go back to normal now. 

SO whats the moral kids? Don’t trust people, lock your doors and take pictures and keep serial numbers of your belongings. Not to sound so down but its the hard truth, we suspect a member of our family or trusted friend stole something important from only me. I don’t know who i can trust anymore and my room doesn't feel like my safe sanctuary anymore. I don’t wanna be that person who no longer trusts but i feel like i need to be now. So be careful who you trust, and sorry for bad news near such a together filled holiday. 

[the-noxxi]

Boop

Hey guys!

Well this gonna be quite an awkward post for me to do, but recently I feel more and more that I just...kind of have to bring it up to get more support/help.

I know this post won’t get anywhere on Tumblr, but I want to explain things as well.

So yeah, this is tough to talk about for me, because I absolutely hate to go out and ask for help or support in a direct way, but I would like to talk about my Patreon and support through it.

To make it simple I will just tell reasons why am I asking for a bit of support right now, but obviously, this is not necessary for anyone at all, you can just ignore it and go on. I’m not forcing anything on people.

So, I make videos for a while now, some of the GW2 community may know me as Noxxi the Noxxian (just to say because of my tumblr url). I enjoy making my videos, both parodies or any kind of video regarding GW2 mainly currently.

I make all of it for free and for my own enjoyment and it will always remain free without any exclusiveness. I don’t make money through Youtube (I have no AdSense and I also refuse to get it), I shall mention this because a lot of people tend to think I make money with my videos itself on Youtube, but no.

My only actual financial support is my Patreon

Also if you don’t wish to read more below, in that case:

If you wish to support me in a long-term way: https://www.patreon.com/Noxxi

If you just wish to donate one-time bits: ko-fi.com/thenoxxi

I don’t wish to bother everyone with the long read below so, if you wish, click to read more as of why I’m asking for support:

I live in Hungary and I also “luckily” got to live in the worst part of it. I’m forced to work in a factory with a job that I hate to do and also a heavy physical job that wrecks my body and my back especially, but I don’t have a choice. I barely make 500€ a month and while I live with my parents I can’t really do much but support my mom since she is disabled and she can’t work, so 300€ out of my wage automatically goes to my mom and I pay for food as well so yay I got to keep 150-200€ a month to save up somehow. Not to mention my work is also 4 shifts so I work basically 24/7 without much break of free days, morning, afternoon and night equally (I have 5 damn free days a month).

I’m currently in a pretty deep hole and honestly I don’t see much way out. Even if I finally save up some, something breaks (as damn usual) and I’m pretty much zeroed out.

Just like right now, I have to pay for my mom’s dental bills soon which oh well just costs me 400€, meanwhile I’m also trying to upgrade my PC which costs me pretty much exactly 600€ and I kind of need my PC as well to be proper to make videos and continue what I wish to do.

My mom is my #1, I need to help her since nobody else does.. not even my step-dad, but we sadly also require him to stay with us since both of our income is split on bills and food equally.

Honestly I don’t even know, the more I write the more depressed I get about my messed up life. People so easily get a fundraiser to get their shit together and I’m just suffering here not even daring to ask for a minor support while in fact I don’t require thousands of dollars like people abroad, even just 100€ or $ is a huge difference and impact on my life and savings, compared how much I normally can try to save up from my own income.

I want to move away and get away from this shit place before it collapses on itself.

I want to quit my job which just physically kills me not to mention that it is dangerous as hell as well. I want to make videos and entertain people as living one day, I want to make people happy and make them laugh. Why, why is it such an unreachable thing. People so easily just say “oh just do it”, sure but you don’t live in a third world country in the middle of Europe.

I want to meet IRL my SO and live with him, but I can’t. I can’t do anything here, I can’t be myself either, I’m a goddamn closet-trans ffs in a damn religious family. However much I love my family, they absolutely despise even gay people and I daily just hear how much of an abomination gay/trans/etc people are. I know I will be disowned once I “come out”. But I can’t even be myself yet, I’m tired of this pretend-y life.

This is why I want to get my life together, but I can’t do it alone here, it’s impossible in these living conditions where I live... I want to reach my dreams and goals and do what I want as a job instead of being forced to be some damned slave in a factory. The entirety is just... simply connected with my life. I can’t get anywhere unless I do what I simply need to in my life, which also allows me to make videos more freely and improve further and actually get somewhere with it as well, since i love doing it, but currently I can’t even do that properly with a 4 shift non-stop work with basically no break or free days which also exhausts me extremely.

This is my life above in a short version and I’m telling it because I like to be honest and because I’m tired of this life. I can’t explain it differently, because people don’t understand my situation as of why would I ask for any support. I’m not money grabbing, I’m not money hungry, I’m poor in fact and in desperate need of help in my life.

There, thank you if you took the time to read all of this and thank you for all the support I’ve ever gotten by anyone here, but I’m also sorry, because I fucking hate bringing up my life for the same reason.

This is my only form of support. I value anyone’s help and it is appreciated, let it be any amount of any kind, even if it’s just a reblog here.

Thank you.

[gorderos-blog]

Pay to Not Go to College!

    Yes, you read that title right! For a small combined fee of roughly $12,900, you can receive a PhD in your desired field of study with supporting documentation, a thesis you didn't have to write yourself, traditional graduation attire, legal notarization, and a half dozen lies regarding your accomplishments within your university! You even get to pick your own grade! Who knew the answer to our higher education needs was a website that only charges a nominal fee for you to not have to waste those precious years of your life AND not land your dream job afterward?     I've been putting this coverage off for way too long. One day at work, out of curiosity, I decided to search around the ol' interwebs and see if I could find a service dedicated to providing individuals with college degrees. It wasn't a hard search. There are several of these services as it turns out, but I'm going to be focusing on one today for the sake of this not dragging on any longer than necessary. I'm still learning about the dos and do nots when it comes to journalism of this nature, so in an effort not to get sued, I'm going to refrain from giving out the name of the website. Obviously I don't want to advertise this service and be responsible for innocent or curious people losing their money. I also don't want to land myself in any sort of legal trouble for name dropping and getting slapped with some sort of law suit. I will, however, be sharing screenshots where applicable, so don't you worry!     The biggest surprise without even looking at the degree ordering process is that the website is designed fairly well. It's inviting and pleasing to the eye with its mixture of blues and grays. Then we look at the text and realize that someone's trying to sucker us out of a lot of money.

    From what I hear, though, programming a website is hard and spaces between the end of a word and a comma are pretty easy mistakes to let slip through the cracks , so let's give them the benefit of the doubt.     The website has a bunch of sections on it and I intend to share the fun bits of it later, but I know what you're here for. You want your PhD in Chemistry or Biology, or maybe you need a Master's in Engineering or Dance. Don't worry, fam, I'm going to hook you up at least with a price point so you can start saving up. I'm going for the PhD in Creative Writing myself.     Unsurprisingly, the first few things it asks you for is boring information like your name, birth date, and title. Then it goes ahead and boldly asks for a scanned copy of either your government I.D./Driver's License or Passport. Then email address, blah blah blah, phone number, alright, onto the next section, and this is where the fun begins.

    As you can see, my PhD in Creative Writing will be issued to me, Mr. Blogger Dude for the year of 2018, graduated in the season of summer. I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone who got me to this point. Good job, me. And look at that, only $490, how convenient! You also have the option to select if you were studying full time, part time, at a distance, online, or in a combination of those!     It's going past this point that you realize this ordering process has zero chill. Before you've even completely decided on all the additional things you want to pay for that you're probably never going to be able to use, this section comes careening up at you:

    Why yes, strange website, I would love to give you my credit card information and my billing address. I can't possibly see how this could go wrong in any way, shape, or form. I don't actually have a credit card, at least not with the kind of limit we're going to be seeing, so I suppose this is the end of my college degree journey. If only I had thousands of dollars just laying around in the bank. Darn, oh well.

    Following that is the section entitled

Transcripts & Degree Related Items

, a series of boxes you can put a check next to if you decide the item in question is something you'll want, and this is how it goes:

Academic Transcripts - $200 (Can select quantity)

Sealed Transcripts - $200 (Can select quantity)

Student Records - $200

Acceptance Letter - $120

Graduation Letter - $120

Reference Letter (Up to three) - $200/reference letter

Letter of Appreciation - $120 (Have the university lie about things you did for them)

Internship Letter from Company - $250 (Nobody follows up with these anyway, right?)

Internship Letter from University - $250

Write Your Own Thesis - $1,500 (At least you tried)

Have Someone Else Write Your Thesis - $4,500 (You did not try)

University Diploma Folder - $135

Graduation Hood - $150

Graduation Cap - $150

Graduation Gown/Robe - $550

Certified Copies of University Degree - $200 (Can select quantity)

Lawyer Certification and Legalization - $450

Government Apostille - $800 (I had to look up what that meant, this is what I found: "Apostilles authenticate the seals and signatures of officials on public documents such as birth certificates, court orders, or any other document issued by a public authority so that they can be recognized in foreign countries that are members of the 1961 Hague Convention Treaty.")

Embassy Legalization - $2050 (Looked this one up as well: "Embassy / Consulate Legalization. ... Documents certified by the State and destined for countries who are not members of the Hague Apostille Convention require State certification, U.S. Department of State certification, and Embassy or Consulate legalization.")

Student I.D. Card - $250 (I had to look... just kidding)

University Alumni Card - $250

University Library Card - $250

Student Union Card/Student Association Card

    After we've picked out all of the things we need, the last thing we have to do is pick our shipping options. Standard shipping is free and usually ships within five business days, but I'm impatient and can't afford to wait that long. I mean, I am buying a fake degree online rather than earning a real one... online. Or on a campus, but who does that anymore? Express shipping it is! It's only an additional $135 on top of the ten grand, nothing too outrageous. As for our shipping method, we have two choices: Express Air Mail, or DHL/FedEx for ground. Planes can crash and burn and lose all of my documentation, so I think I'll play it safe and go FedEx for only $130. Express Air Mail is a little cheaper at $95, but an extra $35 for peace of mind never hurt anybody.

    The website then proceeds to ask how we heard about them. It was pretty easy for me: Google. I assume it'll be the same for you. As an aside, there's also an option for Yahoo for the one person out there still using it. Next we input any special instructions we may have.

      I probably should have added please, but this is a business transaction after all.     Then we subsequently fuck ourselves over by not reading the terms of service before accepting them, make sure our total is correct, and submit our order!

     Looks right to me.

    I love that you can adjust the amount with the small arrows beside the total amount. I left them a tip.     It's at this point that I would submit the order, wait about a week, and show the finished product. Shocking as it may seem, though, I do not have $12,905 to give them. Such a tease, I know. Now I could save myself $3,000 by writing my own thesis, but we mustn't forget that I'm a busy adult man who cannot spare the time to college, so I definitely wouldn't have the time to write a brilliant thesis. One day I'll have a money. One day.     Something that should be noted is that there is no indication on the website as to which university will be giving you your degree, but their section on Full Privacy and Satisfaction serves to definitively quell those voices in your mind that want to call BS.     "When you choose a bachelor degree  from us and you make the payment, you will receive an accredited degree from a reputable university. The degrees are legal and verifiable; nobody will know our little secret that you obtained your degree online.     We do not disclose information about yourself to third parties and we keep private the name of the universities from which we confer degrees.     You will not know the name of the university until you receive the degree. We believe confidentiality is essential in our business and we encourage you to keep it secret that you obtained the degree online in exchange of a fee.     When you choose  degree online course we accept payments and shipment from all over the world, because we are affiliated with universities in every country.     We have bachelor degree online course waiting for you to attend them. You will be enrolled in the online program and you will get the degree in a week from the moment you made the order. We are strict with deadlines and we fulfill all your requirements.     We believe that the satisfaction of the clients is essential in our business and this is why we want to offer you joy so you will come back for more.       If you choose a degree  course from us you will get many job offers and promotions, so you will be happy you have chosen us."     Peace of mind and assurance are wonderful things.     There are a few other interesting tidbits on the website such as generic images of individuals of Asian descent posing in awkward ways, a live chat functionality that I may play with in my own spare time, degree options from multiple contents such as North America, South America, Africa, Asia, Eastern Europe, Western Europe, and my personal favorite, the Middle East. There's a coaching section of how to find a job after you've received your degree that is a rehash of every search you've ever done on how to do well in an interview.     "You have to tell the interviewer about your degrees, knowledge, skills, and vast experience in the field. You should convince the employer that your knowledge and experience will benefit the company and that you have solutions for the existing problems of the company in order to help the company achieve its goals.     Choose the domains of activity at which you are the best and to impress the employers with your expertise, skills and knowledge in their field of activity.     Companies have job openings because they have a hole in the functioning of their business and you have to fill the hole. You should be the perfect solution to their needs and you should be able to sell your skills during the interview in order to persuade them you will find solutions to the problems of the company. The best way to find a job is to prove that you have a degree from an accredited university because employers look for persons with plenty of knowledge in their field of activity.     Use nonverbal communication during interviews. Use your emotional intelligence in order to pass over emotions and use your body language to show you are attentive, confident and competent for the job. You should maintain eye contact and smile often. A sincere smile makes the interviewer believe that you are comfortable and that you are a sociable and friendly person.  Be communicative during interviews if you want to get the attention of the interviewers and persuade him or her to offer you the job.     Create a good CV and resume speaking about the experience, education, skills and certifications you have. You should write a resume in which to write about what recommends you for the job. You should write a story about yourself that proves your skills and knowledge in the field of activity of the company.     Prove passion for the field of activity in which you want to work. Prove that you have a specific interest in the company and a passion in what you do. .     Consider an interview as a sales presentation in which you have to present your strengths, hide your weaknesses in order to attract the interviewer and get the job."     It's actually so nice they had to say it twice in another area of the website, and there's this little gem that DEFINITELY puts any apprehensions, hesitations, or mental protestations to rest!

   I, for one, am very glad that no one shall be able to see my payment information, as they will face consequences under provision of law. What law? Law. THE law. You can learn all about it once you obtain your own law degree from the website.       I suppose I should throw in a quick disclaimer here for the two people who may be willing to go out and try this for themselves: Don't. College degrees are serious business, and I'm pretty sure this is illegal in some way, shape, or form. Don't go around giving shady websites your credit card information, and look into legitimate options when it comes to pursuing a higher education.     All of that being said, thank you for taking this journey with me. It had its ups and downs, but I am definitely excited to be Dr. Mr. Blogger Dude, Creative Writing expert.     Thank you.

[greyknighterotica]

I am confused. I thought you were much farther along with your healing. Lately you speak of your illness returning. Are you sick, well, better, not better? A little more clarity for those of us supporting you?

Sure, since it’s not been a straight line for me, either.

In short? I’ve recovered a lot, have a lot more energy, it’s why I can try and learn to sing some days now, my voice is deeper.

But it’s also internal and involves large, complex, interconnected systems. When I first got on this path in February the idea was get patched up, say about six weeks, and then about six months of recovery.

The patching up took about twice as long, involved getting on antibiotics for the third time in my life, destroyed my voice besides, etc. So instead of six weeks, it was about 15 before I could get back to going, another 2-4 to get everything operational with, you know, a “sick mind.” Trouble concentrating, writing, not coughing long enough to record, etc.

From there I’ve been really, really good about following doctor advice. Some days (some weeks) I’ve batted .1000. Every pill when they said, every calorie what they said, only water to drink.

But even on the days where I lived a little? Water. Pills. Exercises.

I’m at a point now, at the end of 2017, where illness doesn’t slow me down much at all, though I still have flare ups. I’m hoping to be about as recovered as you can by March, but I’m pushing myself out there like I’m healed by May unless I feel differently.

Lastly, the stress of the move was awful, and involved some pretty nasty things to happen to me personally. It was, in fact, the toughest experience I’ve had getting an apartment, and then when I secured it, had to move rapidly while very, very ill during the day of the move.

So it took me awhile to appreciate, took me a while to recover from that, but after a few weeks here I’ve noticed that I’m healing rapidly here, just rapidly, taking pictures, etc, just to prove it to myself.

For instance, I’ve always had bags under my eyes. Always, always, always, it wasn’t a matter of sleep, they’re something termed “allergy shiners.” They’re gone now. I have, sometimes, bagless days.

I’m so much better now that I consider myself “healed” as a person, even if the project isn’t showing it yet due to the long, hard slog that was 2017. Even if I need a little psychological time, too, before it’s full effects are held.

But I’m no longer hesitant about trying out for a semester of college again, because it wouldn’t be too many resources to lose now if I did get sick, and the chances of getting too sick to study things repeatedly seems doubtful after the last 100 days or so.

I have the energy again, now in some ways, to really plan and make good on my ambitions for me, to myself, in addition to you. Or at least I hope.

Still learning how to use it. Still finding balances, but I’m encouraged on the creative side. Because that part matters a lot. There’s frustrations now with street noises and productivity, I know, but the core of creative work is creation.

And I want to create. I have so much more left to in this vein, we haven’t even hit the rich part yet.

So thank you for supporting me. I thought I’d write up a brief list on what your money or reblogs (because even if you can’t pay me, your notes introduce me to others who can) did for my recovery:

- Allowed it to happen financially so I didn’t have to get a job in phone sales

- Allowed me to buy medicine (upwards of 200 bucks a month on top of insurance) and rarely have to ration that out.

- Allowed me to eat the most boring diet ever (BRAT) to recover without it being even more tedious than normal by allowing me to eat frozen fruit for dessert and order in rice/naan 1-2 a week when I was having an episode.

- Several times I threw up on my sheets, my pillows, my clothes. Vomit usually means the beginning of a very rough period of health for me, so there would be suffering alongside the loss and shame. Because of you I didn’t have to cart the old, cheap clothes into a laundry mat a 2 am, but get some new 10 dollar ones. I cried at that one. I cried at that one when I got to order them and when they arrived.

- You allowed me to start singing and trying to sing, something I could never do before this year, though I had made efforts (my illness locks up my stomach muscles and airflow).

But most importantly.

There are a few pieces this year that if you look, if you listen carefully, you can hear that I’m not there. I’m going in and out of narration a bit, I can’t keep it straight.

I do not mean to be overly dramatic, but that is--death of some sort for me. And a death that I had made peace with, one that was accumulating and spreading and not lessening. A fog that would only grow called “age” or “normality” or “just how it goes I suppose.”

But it wasn’t. It was death. It was an early death and life lived with less emotion and feeling. It was something that would have taken years from me, maybe more I don’t think is too dramatic of a thing to write, given my understanding.

I was very, very sick and no doctor or nurse or parent or healer ever gave a fuck. No matter how much I begged them to listen to me. No matter what I asked for, plead or directed them toward.

But sight unseen, you did. You believed me. You let me take those weeks and months off where the pain was immense, my depression so manifest and my doubt so complete that I wasn’t there. Not in any real way. Barely in shambling body and projecting my spirit so far away from the pain that Lot’s wife could be saved through my zeal alone to look the other way while the fire engulfed everything I knew.

You did.

And so the rest has been happening. If too slowly.

And because you did, it is the best Christmas that I can remember. Without exaggeration. I do not have any fear of what happens on the 26th. I didn’t just “make it to here.”

There is vagueness here. That is intentional. I’m still not fully healed, ready to present myself to the world, etc.

I hope this does not take away from my sincerity though, that you still read it as such. If you enjoy seeing me happy, like my new voice, enjoy the fact that I’m trying to get together live shows and efforts and raise equipment standards and do more complex and emotional works.

You made this. You gave me these gifts and more.

Merry Christmas