#it was worse in food service for sure but it still happens even in my new office job

[nonbinary-ghost]

Ya know, one thing i dont often see talked about with regards to being low/no empathy is the overcompensation that can come with it

Like. I spent so much of my youth othered and demonized for not being empathetic and behaving insensitively. So i learned. I learned how to look at someone or something and over analyze everything about them - how they might be feeling, how they might react to something, why they might do something or act a certain way, how an action i take could impact them etc. I dont feel empathy, but i can understand how something might make someone feel or how feelings can drive someone to behave a certain way.

And it has been driven into me again and again that making something more difficult for someone is wrong. Hurting someone's feelings is wrong. Being selfish is wrong. So when i do something, i have to analyze it to make sure it could never feasibly hurt or inconvenience someone else, even if that means taking on extra work. I have no way of knowing when it is appropriate to prioritize myself or inconvenience someone else because i was taught that it is ALWAYS necessary to prioritize others.

And then people who DO feel empathy go around doing and saying shit that does hurt or inconvenience people, seemingly with no sense of irony or self awareness. It baffles me to no end. Is there a script here im missing?

[zephyrspace]

even if you have a rosary, who will save you now?

gn!yuu, very short headcanons + scenarios

summary: yuu accepts that there is no way home and that the world will keep turning no matter what. with no worth to their name and no real purpose in this twisted wonderland, except for solving other people’ problems, they decide to stop caring.

cw: swearing, violence, blood. dm me if i’ve missed anything!

a/n: title is translated lyrics from the song US by ruby ibarra. imagine yuu as however and whoever you want!

“woe is me, prefect! i just have so much paperwork to do that i completely forgot about your weekly food allowance. however, to speed things up a bit, if you lend me a hand here, i could probably get the allowance before the end of next week!”

yuu slinks over to one of crowley’s stacks of paperwork and ruffles through it. not without noticing how some pages were completely blank, ‘probably to bulk up and exaggerate the stack,’ yuu thinks and their eye twitches.

crowley gulps at being caught. but neither of the two say anything about it.

“i’m sure at your grown age you’re supposed to be able to manage your time better than this, but of course i didn’t expect anything from you.” yuu throws the binded document carelessly over their shoulder and onto the floor.

“wha-”

“as a minor under your care, this kind of thing could be considered child labour and abuse. especially for not prioritising my allowance.”

“but, prefect-”

“in other words, this isn’t my problem, bird shit for brains. so, unless you want me to call whatever magical bullshit equivalent you have of child protective services you have in this world, go ahead, give me your work documents. i would be ever so happy to oblige.”

the prefect’s eyes were icy and the atmosphere in the office turned chilly. crowley attempts to smarten up and clears his throat.

“i will have the cheque ready before noon.”

looking down at crowley, yuu sends him a smile with no trace of warmth.

“that’s better.”

unhinged!yuu wouldn’t actively seek out to fight people unless students do it to them first, which is all the time. kind of like ‘i’m nice to you if you are to me. but the second i deem you an enemy, you’re done’ mindset.

those who knew and were ‘friends’ with yuu, didn’t believe in their newly acquired attitude at the beginning, but after a group decided it’d be funny to poke at yuu a bit during lunch, that’s when they realise that yuu was serious about not caring for anything at all.

“oi, magicless runt.”

taking a bite from their sandwich, yuu looks up at the senior holding a tray of food, “hm?”

“get up.” the senior’s friends behind him snicker.

“why?” they take another bite. ‘i wish adeuce and grim would hurry up with their food.’ yuu thinks.

“there’s no more seats.”

“mhm?”

“as your seniors, we get priority.” the senior’s smile widens.

“hm.” another bite. “ish that shou”

with crumbs and sauce at the corners of their lips, yuu wipes it off with their thumb and licks it. they gulp down the remainder of the sandwich.

“sorry, senior. but i don’t see that rule anywhere in the canteen.” they swipe off the leftover crumbs on their hands.

“i thought you’d might say that.”

the senior picks up a bowl from his tray and dumps soup onto yuu’s head.

it’s still boiling hot.

it hurts.

“scram, first year. before i do something worse-”

the senior is on the floor, on his knees and doesn’t realise blood is seeping from his nose until it drips onto the tile.

by now, the whole canteen is silent.

he doesn’t even get time to process what happened until he feels a shin connect with his side and launches him onto another nearby table, his legs dangling off the side, uniform ruined.

“why you-” one of his goonies attempt to throw a punch back at the prefect.

yuu grabs his wrist and used the momentum to throw the senior onto his back. he chokes on the impact.

the rest of the group stays at their spots. ‘smart choice,’ yuu scoffs.

the prefect walks over to the first senior lying against the now abandoned table and grabs whatever food was on the nearest plate and forcibly stuffs it into the senior’s mouth. a whole bread roll.

“oh, senior! i see you’ve found a table to sit at!” the senior had tears along his waterline from the gag reflex of having a whole roll of bread in his mouth.

yuu shoves the bread roll further down the seniors throat. twisting and turning it. the senior makes sounds of retching and pain. “although, preferably, it’d be better to sit on the seat rather than on the table, no?”

the senior could only nod at yuu’s words.

yuu pats his hair demeaningly.

“good boy.”

in essence, yuu becomes very assimilated to nrc. scarily so.

[petrichor-musings]

TOMORROW WE PAY RENT

We have enough for rent!! As long as there are no surprise bills over about $40, we should be good until unemployment, work, & other financial aid comes in. Thank you all so so much.

Ko-Fi

$510 out of $500 (102%)

We won't be able to send all the rent in tomorrow because it takes a few days for the bank transfer, but our landlord will waive the late fees as long as we give him a date when we can pay it all. Thank you again.

See the notes in this post detailing how you can get free art commissions if you sent us money!

Some more context under the cut:

Our household is 4 humans:

Us - physically disabled/chronically ill, haven't been able to work for over a year & a half, currently trying to find new work through staffing agencies & government services, but everything is likely going to be too slow to get any kind of paycheck or financial aid in time. Not to mention any work we do find is going to be less than ideal & just make our health worse, since we're still in the beginning of getting treatment. We're also trying to get on the waitlist for disability, but that's an even longer process & we're unlikely to qualify since we're married.

Our wife - former mechanic, with dual bachelor's in History/Business. She's been chronically ill for the last few months, something we're still trying to figure out. Her direct bosses were more than willing to work with her, but corporate management got impatient & basically fired her. She's looking for new work but the loss is hitting her hard. She's also applied for unemployment but the application hasn't been approved yet.

My brother - fresh out of high school, kicked out of the family household because he came out as bisexual. We took him in because there was literally no one else. He's not on the lease & needs to be as soon as he finds work, but that's another $250 none of us have. His living situation was… not ideal before, & he needs a lot of personal help to find work, something which we don't have enough time to do.

Partner/roommate - another partner & roommate who lives with us, also because her old family kicked her out (& also not on the lease). Also severely disabled, the only income she has is food stamps & blood plasma donations. We're also trying to get her help to reapply for disability; but as anyone knows, that's a long & difficult process. Her last attempt several years ago was denied; it's likely she needs a new application.

What happens if we can't pay rent ontime?

We're asking for more information from our landlord, but we're likely not going to be evicted first thing. Even if we do receive an eviction notice, WE HAVE RESOURCES. Unfortunately, they don't activate UNTIL we get that notice. Very helpful.

If worst comes to worst & we do get kicked out, it will likely be VERY BAD. None of us are "fully functioning/capable" individuals, a lot of us depend on specific equipment & setups in the apartment, & almost all of us are on a variety of very necessary medications. Everyone here has a mental health situation of some kind that will be made a lot worse by losing our apartment. We don't think it will come to that, but it's still something that makes everyone here super anxious.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Also, for anyone that follows our mostly inactive after dark blog, be sure to look for a similar post there coming soon (tomorrow?). We have things we can offer & commissions we can do if folks are interested.

[ohbo-ohno]

God i love your puppy play stuff 😘🫡

got this ask like as soon as i posted this the other day and i've been hoarding it until i want to write pupply play again lmfao thank you for your service anon

kay tweets from today for inspo:

cw: noncon puppy play, rough sex, smidge of piss kink, ghost is mean (again) but johnny isn't as into it this time

noncon puppy play with super horny soap. wants to be with ghost sooo bad, figures it's worth behaving like a puppy if it means ghost will fuck him :(

thinks it's just name-calling at first, doesn't fully mind it when ghost calls him a horny bitch, says good job puppy. it's a little weird, but the praise feels good and the degradation makes his cock twitch

but then it's things like refusing to let soap suck his dick - pulls him back by the hair and tells him just to use his tongue, slobber over it like a proper mutt and... maybe soap doesn't like that as much. does it, because he doesn't want ghost to take his dick away from soap, but is a little tiny bit more hesitant. gets cock drunk soon after, forgets about the hesitance soon enough

it sort of escalates every time they sleep together. ghost holds a hand over his mouth when they fuck in a utility closet, mumbles in his ear about buying a muzzle for his mutt before next time and soap genuinely can't tell if he's just saying it to get off or not

learns he's not when ghost shoves him into his room, has a hand over his mouth and a gag covering it before johnny can even realize what's happened. looks up at ghost with those big shocked eyes, not fully sure what's happened. shakes his head a little, reaches up to try and get it off before ghost bats his hands away. he's smirking a little, says "don't like your muzzle, puppy?" soap just whines and shakes his head more roughly, getting a little teary. "wanna stop? wanna go back out?" ghost asks, and... well, johnny wants to fuck. doesn't like the muzzle (though he hasn't softened in his pants at all) but still wants to get railed

ghost almost always fucks him doggy style. johnny likes it (likes that ghost lets him lay on his back sometimes too, lets him know that he does still have a say) but isn't sure how he feels when ghost asks him if he wants to be "mounted" instead of "fucked"

ghost asks him to bark at one point :/ johnny's nearly finished, is whimpering and whining, gets so close and ghost locks a hand over his cock, squeezes right at the base to cut off his orgasm. says bark, dog and johnny can only make a little confused whine, can't even speak. ghost gives his cock a little tap, a harder slap when johnny moans. c'mon, puppy. bark for me and i'll let you come yeah? good boys bark, you my good boy or not?

and... and johnny is so close. so he barks. and he keeps barking when ghost's thrusts get rougher, doesn't notice he hasn't stopped until ghost pulls out and laughs a little, says alright, quiet puppy. don't make me muzzle you, and then he whines a little and buries his face in ghost's throat. hides his face in ghost's heartbeat

makes the cage as a punishment so much worse if johnny is only going along with it for ghost. feels so much worse when he's in there all alone :( cries a little, whimpers and whines with hitched breaths and begs ghost to let him out :( gets told every word he says is another hour in the cage and nearly howls, feels soooo sad, doesn't understand why ghost is being so mean to him. ghost drops a little toy bone in the cage, says chew on that to keep yourself busy. i'll be back to feed you later and just disappears. leaves johnny whining all day :(

ghost comes back, still doesn't let him out. johnny begs a little more and gets a few more hours added onto his crate time. ghost says you need the muzzle to teach you dogs don't fuckin' talk? and johnny just whimpers and shakes his head, hunches his shoulders real low. ghost hums, says good boy and feeds little bite sized pieces of food through the bars of the cage, sticks his fingers into johnny's mouth so he can lick the taste off. lets him drink nearly a whole bottle of water. doesn't let him out of the cage before he goes to sleep :(

ghost wakes up to johnny whining in the middle of the night. smirks a little before he gets up because he can guess what he's complaining about without even glancing over. sure enough, when he flicks on the light he sees poor johnny all wiggly on his knees :( hand cupped over his dick, looking up at ghost with those big puppy eyes. "what, boy?" ghost asks, standing above the cage and making his face a little mean. johnny is good, he remembers not to speak, just paws at the crate bars a little and looks all pathetic. "hm? you need the bathroom?" johnny nods enthusiastically, already shifting towards the crate door. ghost can't resist the smirk, can't resist the rush of pleasure when he says "what did you think the puppy pads were for?" and watches johnny die a little inside. smokes a quick cigarette while he watches johnny cry and make a mess of himself

pulls him out by his hands the next morning but doesn't let him stand, coos over him and strokes a hand over his mohawk. says there you are, good boy johnny. made a mess, didn't you? need your owner to clean you up, huh? gonna be good and sit still for a bath? and watches when it doesn't even occur to johnny to stand up when ghost keeps his hand on the back of his neck

pouty wet dog johnny :( looks all sad and mopey when he sits on the floor of the shower and ghost uses the shower head to spray him down. lets ghost pat him down after, leans his whole body weight into ghost's hands and just begs for comfort. gets lots of pets and treats for taking his punishment so well <3 takes a little while to start talking again

[aroyaltailor]

semi-hiatus (vent warning)

Currently failing Spanish 102 and things are not getting better. In a move that I'm sure will surprise none of those who follow this blog, I am going to be taking a hiatus from any writing. Yes, another break! Another hiatus, putting off work on this blog and leaving the replies I owe to rot in my drafts. The words simply do not come out of me, and I'm still struggling with perfectionism that blocks any genuine attempts at getting anything done. I basically have to learn the entirety of Spanish, or at least the relevant information for the class, because if I fail I won't be able to graduate this semester.

It's the same damn thing every time. I've submitted a request for the counseling service provided by my college, but they have a two week waiting period due to the huge influx of students needing mental health help these days. I genuinely believe that I've reached a point where I need professional help with my writing, and that I have somekind of OCD that prevents me from simply writing the first draft without needlessly fussing over every word.

I really didn't want to have to make this post. I was holding on to the hope that things would be alright. I was hoping that everything would be okay. That I'd be able to create legitimate routines, learn how to comprehend Spanish, and that I would be able to have the time to sit back and focus and work on building this blog.

The first exam of the class is next Tuesday, September 10th. I won't lie, I'm basically spiraling at this point. Self-care is at a total minimum, and I haven't really been taking care of my health either. I'm not eating much, both out of lack of hunger and the simple fact that my household doesn't have any food available. Today alone, I've been slouched over the table in the upstairs study rooms of my college, staring at this damned screen all day. Suicidal thoughts, a bit of self-harm with a pen, it feels just as bad as organic chemistry. And the genuine possibility that I might be kicked out the house if I fail Spanish 102 isn't helping matters. I don't really have anyone to talk to either, not in-person at least. Not really even online either, but that's probably too jaded for me to say. Doubt anyone will even read this, but that understandable I guess. Everyone has their own problems, so many people do, and they can't pause and stop when they have their own concerns to deal with, especially for someone that hasn't really produced anything.

Let's just say it isn't getting better. It's not. It's getting worse. I can't be on here as much as I want to, and I'm beginning to think that I've been damaged permanently by what happened to me. My dad had lung cancer, I did everything I could, but that's all I can say about it. Even just typing that sentence has me bawling now.

I'll either pass Spanish 102 this semester or I won't. If I don't, I definitely won't take it well. I'm sorry for everything I've said about how I'd made progress, or that I'd be around to do replies only to post nothing at all. I'm not doing well and haven't been for awhile.

Hopefully things will get better. But then again, I've said that before haven't I? Time will tell. I'm sorry to everyone for the times I've wasted their time with starters or replies I haven't responded to yet. Blog isn't even finished yet, but if I pass I'll try. I promise I'll try.

[ceasarslegion]

Hey man I just wanted to give you condolences for how hard this work shit is causing you to struggle. Just one of those things everyone has their own crosses to bear in regards to toxic workplaces. If you are considering a change in careers I'm sure it can't be too hard to translate your experience to somewhere less intense.

Thank you 😭

I just need to get out of this specific place to somewhere that let's me rest and get my ducks in a row from here. It sucks to be at a part of my life where I realize I'm not doing what makes me happy and I have to start all over. My 20s have felt like an endless cycle of starting all over honestly, but my family tells me that's normal for your 20s and it's why they suck so bad and that I'm doing fine for a 25 year old. They've told me in a worst case scenario I could come crash with them and be a paid farmhand at my aunt and uncles cattle ranch while I figure things out, but I'm not a country guy at all. It would make me so much mentally worse to leave the city, but at least I have a nuclear option if things really blow up in my face. I'm not in danger of being utterly out of work with no roof over my head or food to eat.

I think the security industry has just gone to hell honestly. It used to be a respectable and livable job where you were trusted to handle things and weren't expected to put your life on the line for customer service experience or whatever. You could bring your books and little things to play with while on guard duty because no one expected you to just stare at the fucking wall for 8 straight hours if there was nothing to respond to. I actually first got into security early on in uni because it allowed me to do my schoolwork at work so I could balance school and finances without being utterly devoid of free time or sacrificing my sleep. As long as the checklist got done and the building was still standing at the end of my shift, they were happy.

Now they treat us like a hybrid between emergency responders and customer service representatives. We aren't emergency responders, we're supposed to be the mid ground responders. Yknow, the incidents that need intervention but aren't threats to public safety. You don't call the cops on someone screaming at the service staff or the fire department when you lock yourself out, you call security. In recent years it's turned into "well what can you do to both curtail actual emergencies and make their *experience* better?" That's not my job!! Nowhere in my job description or certifications does it say I'm a first responder! I'm not supposed to be! I'm the guy who assigns tasks and keeps everyone's head screwed on when the emergencies happen but I am not the guy who puts my own life in danger to solve them. Do not ask me to do that for 23 bucks an hour and no mental health benefits and then ask me why the guy screaming at me wasnt happy with his experience today, what's wrong with all of you

Luckily my old work friend got out and found work doing like, proper big boy government aviation security for celebrities and political figures. She tells me there's no drama or mean girl bullshit there because there's only like 5 of them and there's no need to prove themselves to each other. And it starts a whole wealth bracket above what I make now. I gave her my credentials and CV and she said she'd pass them on and put in a good word for me, so I hope that goes somewhere. Other than that my like regular schedule now is waking up and going right to my pc to open the city job board and hitting apply on everything I even remotely could do

Sorry this turned into a bit of a rant man, I really do appreciate the gesture. And as a general sentiment, please be nice to security guards. We're going through enough as it is

[edenfenixblogs]

Attention Goy Friends!

I was recently asked by another goy friend on Facebook to explain something. And I thought I’d share it here for people who are not in the know.

This person wanted to know why we get SO upset when synagogues are defaced. It wasn’t like they were telling me they didn’t understand why we got upset at all. But they didn’t seem to understand where the depth of feeling came from, especially when there is actual genocide happening to Palestinians. This is a good person acting in good faith and is working on holding two truths at once, so I answered. Here’s what I told them:

First of all, of course, we can fight for Palestinian liberation shoulder to shoulder and feel as awful as you do about it! I hate this genocidal Likud party and their deranged evil leader just like anyone else would. This does not mean we don’t also carry our own pain. It doesn’t mute the pain we carry for Palestinians. We just feel EVEN WORSE on top of that.

Second, with regard to synagogues and other places of Jewish social gathering—I think those of us living in Christian-majority nations all know a fair bit about Christian history just by way of cultural exchange. But if you are not aware—The Protestant split in Europe led to the translation of Church services and texts into English/the primary spoken languages of the various Western European nations worshipping within various Jesus-centric religions. This was a huge and important milestone for poor and lower class people who had every right to participate equally and fully in their religion and could now understand the scriptures and services.

However, to this day, shul is conducted in Hebrew. Prayers are sung in Hebrew. In every Jewish synagogue regardless of denomination. Sure, there are often parts in the common tongue of the area too, but the prayers themselves are still in Hebrew. Usually the same melodies or selection of melodies too. And it’s not because we are some elitist group, as some might claim.

It’s because, even in diaspora, I can go to any Jewish community in the entire world. I may not speak the common tongue of whatever place I end up. But I can go there, listen for the sound of Jewish prayer. If I have nothing to my name and no money or food or home or safety I can look for some Hebrew on a door or a Jewish star and listen for someone singing Oseh Shalom or the Shema Yisrael or the V’ahavta in the same melody that I learned it growing up. And I will have found safety. I will have found community. I will have found people who understand me.

And the part of this that I think most goyim don’t understand is that because of our long history with Christianity there is statistically a more than 50% chance that I or other members of my generation will actually NEED to employ that Jewish community as a resource in the exact circumstance I described above. Because we become victims of genocide within 2-3 generation intervals like clockwork for the last 2000 years.

When a synagogue is attacked in a nation that allows antisemitic hatred to foment unchecked it is such a brutal emotional blow. Because every synagogue destroyed is a safe place for Jews that is no longer safe. Not for the people who go there regularly. And certainly not for the people who may need to go there—who will VERY LIKELY need to go there. And with each space eliminated, we are sent further into diaspora.

[letrune]

Everyone is a revolutionary until the trash has to be taken out.

Let me explain: most people who want the status quo AND a giant revolution with blood think the system will benefit them. However, the moment they have to do the annoying minutae of society, they suddenly refuse to engage in it.

This is because most people are under the assumption that they will benefit more in the new order, not that they will be the ones required to run it or do the dirty jobs nobody wants to. Some happily tell about having servants and the strong to rule and to kill the rich, ignoring that they may be the servants, the weak, the rich. They believe that their life will improve, not worsen.

Which is what oh so many revolutions fail at. They get the depose-replace part, but then fall into the same traps the old system had, or worse, create brand new traps and willingly charge into them.

Imagine, we go to a free buns party. 500 people can get free buns! Yum! However... there are a 1000 people. How should we solve it?

Give to the first 500? Great, and- oops, sorry, you are the 501st...

Oh, tickets. You can buy a ticket, get a bun. But it is not a free bun then... but alas. Oops, sorry, you can't buy a ticket, guy before you had more money.

Redistribute. Okay, give me two hours. And also service fee, one bun for me... got to get people to carry... my buddies in the council... oops, sorry, you JUST missed it. I mean, you look like someone who could use some less buns, you get me?

Free for all? Ok. Oops, sorry, those guys are bigger and faster than you. Sorry.

Oh, sharing! Lovely idea. Half a bun for everyone. There. It is solved, as long as we only got 500 buns for 1000 people.

Now... imagine it not being about free buns. It is about housing, plumbing, mass transit, jobs one can do, water, food, etc.

But let us imagine tomorrow we find out the Utopian Edict. It is suprisingly easy to implement and comes free! It even solves the resource problems all across the globe, and SOMEHOW none of us becomes a selfish jerk by political, national, emotional, sexual, racial or other identities we have. A true utopia, where happiness is free for everyone and nobody leaves unsatisfied.

Who will take out the trash?

Come on, you know we can recycle them, but someone still has to take out the trash. Someone has to deliver the mail. Someone has to put the buns in the oven and take them out, with the right time between the two. The books have to be printed AND written by someone for us to read. Someone has to make sure there are schools, libraries, hospitals, buses, trams, buns and so many more.

In the Utopian life, we won't just point to someone else. It ought to be either volutary - the people who like doing these - or rewarded well - so people do these and not much more.

Taking out the trash is not as glamorous as being the Hero of the Great Cause, but have you ever considered that after the Great Revolution wins, you have to build a new world, right? What world would that be?

Consider this: you are asked what should happen to the worst members in society. When you say the answer, a random roll is done to determine if you get the worst member role or not. Will your answer change?

In the Utopia version, you will be asked who should take out the trash and what we should give for them for doing such a job. "Nobody" wants to do it, but it has to be done. Surely, we find volunteers but it won't be enough...

So. In this utopia we fight for, we should consider what world we build. Not just shout for guillotines and firing squads and "we figure it out eventually"; not just "we can fix this all", and ignore the minutea like taking the trash out. Storming a palqce qnd blowing bridges up is the stupid eaasy part of a revolution, building houses and bridges and making sure there are trains and running on time is the hard part. Almost all revolutions failed on these when they started. Wwe will need logisticians, planners and people who are willing to take out the trash more than people good with bombs and guns.

Even in Utopia, you will need someone who does it. Except in Utopia, it would be a job that is not treated as trash.

[elletromil]

Job Offers

Surprising even myself, here's a new fic after about a year without having written anything :D

This one has been in my drafts for a while, half-finished, and i can't say why exactly i decided to kick my butt into finishing it but I did it!

Set in the Come Back (Home) 'verse after Harry comes back to London but is still retired and has no plan on getting back into Kingsman.

This is based on a discussion I had with @honey-bee-britt

Enjoy my good peeps :D

Job Offers

“-and while I’ll never force a retired agent to come back except if we are in dire straits, you understand why I think it’s a waste that we haven’t retained the previous Galahad’s services in some capacity.”

Merlin nods because that’s what is expected of him. He doesn’t mind their newest Arthur much most of the time, but he knows better than to try and speak him out of his newest crusade.

He knows that no matter what they do, the only way Harry would ever be tempted back into Kingsman is if the ‘dire straits’ Arthur mentioned include Eggsy being in very deep trouble or far worse. And Merlin is doing his damnedest for that to never happen. To Eggsy or any other agents under his care.

“And considering your old friendship with him, I am sure you’ll be just the man to convince him.”

Merlin stares at Arthur for a beat, wondering if this is some kind of joke. Sure, Harry and him are friends, but it’s been at least twenty years since Harry has listened to Merlin. And that’s if Merlin is actually trying to make him see reason.

Arthur is in for one hell of a disappointment.

Still he nods again without saying anything else. At the very least, it will entertain him for some time.

***

Since Harry’s return, they’ve made a habit of meeting each other for breakfast whenever Eggsy is away on a mission and Merlin isn’t needed at HQ.

It’s been two weeks since Merlin’s talk with Arthur and he hasn’t mentioned any of it to Harry yet. Mostly because retired spy or not, Harry is smart enough to know that Arthur would probably be interested in having him back in some ways. But also because there’s not really been an occasion for it.

“So, R&D is looking for someone,” he says apropos of nothing. He doesn’t phrase it as an offer because he knows what Harry’s answer would be. But he can admit to being curious to what his reaction will be.

Harry doesn’t mind talking shop with him, even if Merlin has had to learn how to be more careful about what he tells him.

“If she wasn’t so young and if Eggsy wouldn’t kill me for it, I’d recommend Daisy for the position.” There’s only good humour in Harry’s eye as he looks up from his poached eggs. “I’ve been helping her with her science project and let me tell you, I’ve been very impressed. Did you know that-”

The rest of breakfast is spent discussing Daisy and the upcoming science fair at her school.

*

Harry doesn’t say anything when Merlin pushes past him as soon as he answer the door, not waiting for an invitation to get in. After the day he’s had, he seriously has no patience for social niceties.

If Harry minds, he doesn’t say anything, but he does frown when he notices the bottle of scotch Merlin has brought with him.

“We’re eating dinner before we open that.”

Merlin would protest, but that’s about when the smell coming from the kitchen hits him and he decides that if Harry wants to feed him, well, he’d be a fool not to accept.

He lets himself be pushed into the dining room and onto a chair, his first look on Harry’s half-eaten plate enough to convince him he made the right choice by not protesting. It look as amazing as it smells.

Tastes fantastic too, he discovers as he waste no time digging into the warm food once Harry sets a serving in front of him. It’s no wonder Eggsy has been putting on some much needed weight since Harry’s return.

If he had the same to look forward to for lunch, it would be enough to remind Merlin to eat too.

He looks away from his plate to compliment Harry on the food, when he notices the obvious worry of his expression.

That’s something he’s still getting used to since Harry has been back in London, the way he is so much more open than he ever was, at least in the privacy of his own home.

“We just got a new batch of recruits to train,” he says instead of the compliment and watches the worry morphs into an amused sort of understanding.

“My sympathies.” Harry tries for something solemn, but Merlin can see his bloody dimples.

“Fuck off Hart. If you don’t stop taking the piss at my suffering, I won’t share the scotch.”

“I guess I’ll just keep all the baklava I made for dessert to myself then,” Harry threatens right back with a smirk.

“You’re such a bastard,” he grumbles half-heartedly. It’s been a while since he’s treated himself to baklava and if Harry’s taste just half as good as their meal… He really doesn’t want to miss out on them.

Harry graciously inclines his head, as if the insult had been the compliment Merlin had first intended to pay him. Exasperated, Merlin sighs before he focuses back on his plate, but he can’t quite help the smile tugging at his lips.

He might never admit it out loud, but he’s glad Harry is back.

He’s missed his friend.

*

To say the last thing he ever expected to see at their new HQ was Roxy coming into his office, armed with an enormous basket of various pastries and baked goods would be a lie, but only because Merlin would never have thought it in the realm of possibilities.

“Come on Merlin,” she urges him past his shock, “you get first pick. Or well, second really. I did help myself on the way over.”

He smiles back at her, glad to see the return of the mischievous glint in her eyes. For a long time after miraculously surviving the explosion of the old manor, she had seemed rather apathetic of the world around her even after her physical recovery.

While he knows that the experience will forever leave its mark on her, it hasn’t changed her completely. With how Roxy and Eggsy had not been in the mood to fool around together for various reasons after Poppygeddon, the morale at HQ had been bleaker than in the aftermath of V-Day.

He’s relieved that the atmosphere has been slowly improving, partly thanks to the young Knights’ return to their regular antics.

“Thank you,” he says after selecting a croissant for himself. He’s not particularly hungry yet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy it. “I didn’t know you baked.” He gestures at the basket as if he needs explaining. It’s obvious that even if it all looks highly appetizing, everything contained in the basket comes from someone’s own oven.

To his surprise, Roxy snorts rather gracelessly at that.

“Oh, I don’t bake. I barely know how to boil an egg without burning the water.” She grins, apparently unbothered by her ineptitude in the kitchen. “No, I’m just doing the delivery. Should have been Eggsy, but something came up with Daisy, so Harry enlisted my help instead.”

He nods as if it makes perfect sense.

Which in a way, it kind of does, if one knows Harry won’t even step a food inside the new tailor shop whenever he’s waiting for Eggsy.

Merlin just doesn’t understand what prompted Harry to spend hours at the oven.

“And really,” Roxy continues, probably picking up on his slight confusion like the trained spy that she is, “we should be thanking you. I don’t know what you told him, but apparently, you should expect a basket once a week as a ‘show of appreciation to all the handlers from someone who knows just how hard you work at keeping everyone as safe as they can’. A sentiment I wholly agree with.”

She’s grown more serious now, but she’s still smiling. Merlin isn’t quite sure what to do with the gratitude he sees in her eyes, the gratefulness of Harry’s gesture.

All he had done was complain to Harry that two of his handlers had burned out already this month. And he had only mentioned it after Arthur had commented to him how Harry’s expertise could make quite the difference if he was to come back in such a position. That way, he could honestly say he had made an attempt to bring Harry back into Kingsman.

And if he would be lying if he said he didn’t wish Kingsman had more handlers in its employ, he’s selfishly happy that Harry is completely uninterested in returning to any kind of active duty. His friend has given enough pieces of himself in Kingsman’s service over the past decades. He deserves to live the rest of his life as he pleases.

Especially if what pleases him is apparently fattening the whole of Kingsman with amazing food.

*

Admittedly, giving the extremely late hour, Merlin should have been sleeping in his bed rather than lying on Harry’s living room floor.

But after four days where power-napping between crisis was his only source of rest, he’s far too keyed up to attempt sleeping. And even if Eggsy’s current mission is in no way related to any of the metaphorical fires he’s had to put out all week, that doesn’t mean Harry is sleeping soundly while he’s away.

Some inane text received while he was on his back from HQ was all it took for Merlin to choose to head to the house he’s sharing with Eggsy rather than his own home.

He scowls at the cup of chamomile tea Harry sets within his reach on the low table, remembering perfectly well that he asked for the good scotch when Harry asked him if he wanted anything.

“Merlin, I can feel your headache from where I’m sitting.”

He turns his glare towards his friend, but it’s not like he’s wrong. His head has been positively pounding for the past few hours. Adding a hangover to that is probably unwise.

He shudders at the thought that Harry Hart has somehow become wiser than him. And bites back a curse when it only worsen the pain in his head.

“Hmm. It’s far.”

“I’m not going to tell you to go to bed, but you should at least take the couch.”

Merlin spares a look to the couch, before wearily staring at the foot or so of empty space that separates him from it.

He doesn’t need to look at him to know Harry is rolling his eyes at him.

He is surprise however when the rustle of fabrics isn’t followed by a pillow hitting him in the chest like he expected but rather by Harry getting up again from the armchair so he can carefully drag Merlin to the couch. Apparently, retirement has made his friend wiser and softer.

Merlin doesn’t thank him, but he does grab his hand and give it a gentle squeeze before Harry moves back to his own seat.

The silence between them is comfortable until Merlin breaks it with the most trivial of their latest crisis.

“Arthur wants to hire a new tailor.” What Arthur really wants is to hire Harry as a new tailor. He might not be an expert, but it has been his cover for a few decades. Like all of the other Knights, he had been required to know enough to get by. He had also hated it with the burning passion of a thousand suns. His words, not Merlin's

“Have you asked Dagonet’s nephew already? What was his name… Joseph?”

“Joshua,” he corrects Harry, “and no we haven’t. But that’s not a bad idea.” The man is a trained tailor unlike Harry. He doesn’t know for sure why Joshua has never been offered a position at the shop as he has never been in charge of anything relating to legitimate tailoring aspect of their organization before, but it can’t hurt to ask.

He closes his eyes, focusing on his breathing and wondering if he’s imagining the lessening intensity of his headache. He’s half asleep when he registers a soft sound he can’t place and his curiosity gets the better of him.

He opens his eyes and looks over to Harry again, still sitting in his armchair, but his hands busy with whatever was making the sound.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“A blanket.”

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the answer because Harry knows that’s not what he was asking.

“I’ve picked up crochet,” Harry adds after a while. “Soothes me when I worry at night.”

It’s been months since Harry’s return now, but no matter what, Merlin doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to how honest he’s become on such matters. At least not as long as Merlin himself will continue to work every day with trained spies.

He’s grateful for it however. The candour is kind of refreshing.

“Hmm. Maybe I should pick that up too.”

Harry snorts and this time, does throw a pillow at his chest. “What you really need is sleep. Not another reason to stay awake.”

A jaw-cracking yawn interrupts whatever protest he had intended to make and he decides to close his eyes rather than have to look at Harry’s smug face.

And if he does fall asleep shortly after that?

Well, he’s not too proud to admit Harry can be right.

Sometimes.

*

“You’re sure you don’t want to drive?” Merlin asks as Harry makes to climb into the passenger seat.

For once, his asking has very little to do with Arthur’s needling comments over bringing Harry back into Kingsman in some capacity.

While it is true that they do need new drivers -- hence why h is currently driving the cab himself -- mostly Merlin just loathes driving in London’s traffic. It’s very close to the very top of his list of things he doesn’t want to be doing during a mandatory day off and it’s only because having to deal with the crowd on the tube would be worse that he didn’t suggest public transport to Harry.

“You do know that I’m actually pretty shite at driving, right? I’ve been driven everywhere during most of my tenure as a spy except for car chases. And there hasn’t been a lot of them either.” It’s true. Before Eggsy becoming the new Galahad, being a Kingsman Knight had involved relatively few pursuits of that kind. “You never wondered why I never fight with Eggsy for the wheel?”

“I always assumed it was because the lad has you wrapped around his little finger.”

“Well, there’s that too,” Harry admits with a complete lack of self-consciousness. “But mostly, I don’t feel like adding to London’s traffic problems.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

“I try.”

The click of Harry finally buckling his seat-belt makes Merlin involuntarily grit his teeth and tightens his hold on the wheel.

“Think Eggsy would mind playing chauffeur for us on his day off?” He asks half-seriously instead of starting the car.

Harry laughs, but he’s already unbuckling.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to, he was getting antsy when I left.”

*

When Merlin finally makes it to the pub, Harry takes one look at him before pushing his own pint towards him. And while Guinness isn’t usually his first choice, at the moment Merlin will take whatever he can get.

“You look terrible.”

“It’s been a terrible day… Week even.”

Harry makes a sympathetic sound and gives his hand a gentle pat, before getting up to, hopefully, get them more alcohol.

Merlin sighs as he nurses the rest of the Guinness, trying to relax.

Today might not have been ‘end-of-the-world’ terrible -- hence why he didn’t cancel his meeting with Harry -- but combine enough small annoyances together and one can still get a massive headache.

He musters a grateful smile for his friend when Harry returns with what is probably scotch for Merlin and another pint for himself.

“I took the liberty of ordering us some fish n’ chips too.”

He hums in approval in his glass. “This is why we are still friends.”

Harry rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but doesn’t take the bait.

“Want to talk about it?”

Merlin groans, the semblance of calm he achieved thanks to the scotch he’s sipping completely shattered.

“That bad? Or you can’t talk about it?” Even with Arthur being hell-bent on bringing Harry back to an active Kingsman status, the fact he’s retired means Merlin had been keeping more things from him than he’s ever had to before and they both know it.

Not because he doesn’t trust Harry, but simply because he wants it to be clear that he respects his decision to retire from the spy world.

He’ll still complain about problems that fall more under the office work category than the spy one, but that’s all he allows himself. That and vague updates about Eggsy’s missions when he thinks the situation warrants them.

“No, I can talk about it. It’s just trying to figure out where to start when it’s been everything.”

How about you start from the last thing that happened and work your way from there?”

It’s actually not a bad idea. Better than trying to figure out when and what made everything go to absolute and utter shit. (On a personal level, Merlin is aware that it all can be traced back to his decision to join Kingsman. But for the specific chaos he went through this past week… It probably has the same point of origin to be honest.)

“Paul from the kennel is retiring.”

The thing about it that made his blood pressure rocket through the sky was the pointed look Arthur gave him when he gave him the news.

And to be fair, dogs do have more of a fair chance of convincing Harry to come back, but Arthur forgets the man already has two at home. And regularly dog-sit Roxy’s poodle too.

He’s about to launch into the next annoyance -- Percival’s pyromaniac tendencies -- when he notices Harry’s sheepish expression.

“What did you do?”

Of course, Harry tries for innocence, but that hasn’t worked on Merlin in decades. One unimpressed arches of an eyebrow is all it takes for Harry to give up the pretence.

“Please don’t tell Eggsy before he’s back.”

“Can’t make that promise without knowing what you’ve done,” he replies to that without an ounce of pity.

Harry might be his oldest friend, but that doesn’t mean Merlin will always side with him. Especially not when it can affect Eggsy.

The lad has more than earned his loyalty, especially after the year they both spent keeping each other afloat from their grief when they mistakenly believed Harry was dead. And not after the year after that where Merlin had to watch Eggsy continuously making the hard choice to stay rather than run after Harry as he so obviously wanted to.

There’s a beat of hesitation before Harry caves. “I might have adopted a new dog.”

For a moment there, Merlin can only stare at Harry’s guilty fidgeting. And then, he can’t help it.

He starts laughing.

When even the appearance of their meals isn’t enough to stop his hilarity, Harry starts pouting.

“It’s not that funny.”

And it’s not, not really.

But it has been a while since Merlin has had any reason to laugh, no matter how ridiculous it is.

It’s not like Harry is in any real trouble anyway. The man has more than enough time to take care of another dog. And Merlin is certain Eggsy won’t stay mad for long after he’s subjected to a puppy-eyed look.

Now, whether the look will be from the actual puppy or from Harry, that’s a completely different story.

*

“Sit your arse back down on that couch Harry.”

He grabs Harry’s elbow before he can take another step in the direction of the front door.

“But-”

“No Harry.” His voice his firm, but the slight tug he gives Harry’s arm wouldn’t even move a child. “I know you’re worried, but you can’t go.”

“You could sneak me in,” Harry tries weakly.

“I could,” Merlin agrees easily, but only because he knows he’s won already when Harry drops on the cushion next to him. “And I would. If it was in any way serious. But Eggsy’s only being kept in the infirmary as a precaution. Gaius doesn’t he’s got a concussion, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Harry lets out a shaky breath and Merlin drapes an arm around his shoulders in silent comfort.

“You’re not gonna tell me Gaius has been looking for a new nurse?”

Merlin knows that Harry has been perfectly aware that all the mentions of the various Kingsman’s openings have been Merlin’s rather unenthusiastic attempts to bring him back into the fold. Harry might be retired, but he’s still one of the best spy Merlin has ever known.

After all, there is a reason the man got to retire.

But the question stings even if he’s made an accurate guess as to what Arthur told Merlin before he left to let Harry know in person not to expect Eggsy tonight.

“I didn’t know you thought so badly of me that you’d believe I’d take advantage of your current state of mind.”

He feels Harry flinch against him at the words. He’s half-tempted to push him away out of wounded pride, but before he can resolve himself to it, Harry press one of Merlin’s hand between his.

“It’s not you I think badly of. I don’t think I’ve ever said it in so many words, but you’re a great friend Merlin. I am lucky to have you. We all are.” That’s Harry’s newfound honesty and openness in action again and for the first time, Merlin thinks he could learn to get used to it. “It’s Arthur I think rather poorly of.”

Merlin hums in understanding.

Of course, Harry would have guessed what, or rather who, was behind Merlin’s vague job offers.

“He’s not all that bad,” he still feels the need to say. Not out of any particular loyalty towards Arthur, but simply because it’s true. He’s not that bad. At the very least, Merlin truly believe the man won’t ever be swayed by a megalomaniac into mass murdering civilians. “And you’re a great friend too.”

It’s not anything he would usually have admitted to without withstanding some sort of prolonged torture first, but Harry’s openness must have been rubbing off on him these past few months.

And if he’s being honest, it was surprisingly easy to say.

It’s what prompts him to add more. “I’m glad you came back Harry. I missed you.”

Harry only acknowledge the words with a soft press of the hand he’s still holding between his.

A somewhat peaceful silence falls over them after that, as comfortable as it can be with the undercurrent of worry they feel for Eggsy.

It doesn’t last long before Harry breaks it however.

“I could always replace Arthur.”

“Please no. I’d actually kill if you were my boss.”

[snake-and-mouse]

Tell me a favorite memory of yours, please and thank you 🖤🖤🖤

When I went to pick out a puppy to train to be my service dog, it was a bitterly cold and snowy January night. The house was a split level in the middle of a very confoundingly shaped suburb.

It wasn’t a real breeder, just a woman who happened to have both a male and female purebred chihuahua (I prefer large dogs, but my needs could most easily be met by a small breed that could be transported anywhere without hassle, not to mention food costs and my physical inability to care for a large dog when having a flare up) and wanted to make a hobby of breeding them.

This was her first two litters. Two, because she was fostering another dog (that they thought was a chihuahua or at least a mix, but had no way of knowing for sure) who it turned out, was actually not spayed, much to her chagrin. I dislike backyard breeding but we couldn't afford better.

The litters were born five days apart, over a dozen puppies between them. Christmas time babies with a slightly less immaculate conception. When we arrived we were told they had just been back from the vet, and given a clean bill and leave to be adopted.

Walking into the "puppy room" which was just a normal bedroom with a baby gate and spilled dog food all over the carpet, I was greeted by what I first thought was a suitcase with a pile of socks in it. It was actually a dog carrier with the top zipped open, and a huge mound of sleeping puppies inside.

The picture that made hasn't left me for half a decade and I hope it never does.

Now, I take animal care very seriously, and really needed aid for when I went to college. This wasn’t a respectable way to get a service animal, but I would still do my best. Failing wasn’t an option. I had plans for conducting myself. The correct way to present yourself to young dogs, and their overlooking mothers, strategies for how to assess the puppies to find the best service dog candidate in limited time when the inexperienced breeder wouldn't have done anything along those lines a professional would have, the unfortunately practical need to keep an eye out for any health concerns or signs this breeder wasn't trustworthy and the puppies were a risk to buy, and a more hopeful checklist of what I actually wanted and not just needed including a very set preference for a male.

All that went out the window because both my mother, who knew nothing about anything respectable, and the breeder's eight year old daughter, who was eight, were in the room.

Three half asleep puppies were scooped up and passed around by the little girl like she was handing out ice cream samples before I could conduct my assessments with any real sense. She just about tossed a puppy at me the moment I sat down, babbling in that excited way small humans do in the presence of small animals. Thankfully the momma dogs didn't seem to give a shit what we were doing with their babies.

Now, there had been one puppy I'd had an eye on from the pictures. Male, pretty, a healthy chub to him, a thick chocolate brown coat and markings like another puppy I'd almost chosen from a breeder who did end up being untrustworthy. The puppy tossed at me wasn't this puppy.

It was a girl for one. It looked similar, but... well, worse. Identical colouring, but a very thin coat, she was kind of pink through her fur. Like a naked rat. And she was scrawny, wrinkled because she didn't fill out her skin, noticably smaller than the already tiny other puppies. It made her big ears look cartoonish and her eyes bulging. The one I had been considering was from the legitimate litter, with a mother who's breeding and health wasn’t a complete mystery. This one was from the accident.

"She stays with my girl though. Her mom wasn't feeding her, but thankfully mine would." The breeder informed us.

An accidental puppy, who was a rejected runt, with a mother who might not even be the breed they guessed, not even the sex I wanted, and as cute as all puppies were I could admit she looked weird, even a bit sickly.

She made a little noise as she settled into my lap, bullying her way into the folds of my jacket, and then went right back to napping. She refused to budge a centimeter as I tried to look over the other puppies for actual options until I put her back despite her protests, my practical lists repeating stubbornly over and over in my head.

The male I thought I wanted woke up and promptly acted like a hyperactice menace, even for a puppy, rough with his siblings and unwilling to be still enough for me to hold him at all let alone lay in my lap, and I knew in a couple minutes I didn't want him (but my mother did, even as he tried to eat her shoe, because she always chose looks over personality)

I pretended to consider the other puppies, deliberating for around half an hour.

But honestly I knew.

I already knew from that first moment.

As soon as that annoying eight year old tossed her in my lap and she laid there like it was hers, I knew.

I didn't resist picking her back up for long and my mother gave me a sarcastic look while I picked over the other puppies but had that one parked firmly in my arms, because she could tell too.

As I settled into the car with Tanis (who wouldn't get that name for almost three days because I couldn't pick, she looked so strange no name really seemed quite right) all she cared about was being warm between the blanket and my stomach so getting a picture of her on my phone was so damn hard. She wouldn't really be photogenic until about two years old.

My mother decided to stop for dinner, some mischief to end the exciting night. Now that she's a trained service dog I bring Tanis into restaurants all the time. She turned out to be perfect, exactly what I needed, even though I barely knew what I was doing as I trained her.

But the first time, she wasn't trained. She was a baby, just barely old enough to leave her mother, and she and her brother slept hidden under a jacket on the booth next to me in my third favourite chinese restaurant for about an hour. And she didn't get close to being caught even once.

Now, she still doesn't get noticed even being right there in the open, quiet as death and staring the servers down with her still admittedly too-big eyes. But I really enjoy telling people, on the rare occasion they do eventually notice her and then always say the same oh wow I had no idea she was there! phrases, that she's very good at her job.

Which as far as she's always seemed to believe, from the very first time, was to just lay in my lap and snooze until I need her. I'm very lucky it seems to be her one and only goal in life.

(Baby pic tax for the long post, I promise you she's a good chunk older here than you are guessing and thankfully was already less bald and weird looking 😂)

[miscreantahead]

When I worked at Burger King as a manager (roughly 11 years ago), I knew managers at other branches and some of them even knew the management at other fast food spots in the area. I knew how often my GM worked without being paid, and I knew how often she asked the other managers to work without being paid also. I knew one specifically who agreed to it for double-shifts on sundays. Unpaid double shifts on sundays.

I know from the grapevine to the other fast food management that the McDonald's up the road was even worse about this. To so many people this was normal and just something that happened. Even to me, I never reported it. I wouldn't do it because I knew they weren't going to fire me and I barely made minimum wage as a manager anyway, but as a collective me and the other employees just talked about it like it was a messed up but relatively normal thing that happened.

Now I feel like we all know how illegal that is. I wonder if I were to go back if that would still be a thing. I wonder how much money fast food and food service (and retail) are losing by actually having to pay their workers now. Shortly after I left my job at Target, about 7 years ago, I was informed of a class-action lawsuit from management because they were offering managers salaries that were a few thousand more a year than they would have made hourly for 4-56 hours a week, and then demanding they work 100-120 hours a week. I'm not sure where that went, but I heard about that happening while I was there and the team leads were all always there and always looked exhausted.

Assuming this exploitation isn't still as rampant, if companies are no longer benefitting from illegal unpaid labor, it's likely just another reason they're raising their prices despite the stagnation of wages. The system has always been so corrupt, it was never designed to work without exploitation. Companies are panicking because it's becoming harder to exploit people and that's both hilarious and terrifying to me.

[aelaer]

🔫

Another whump icon prompt filled! And this is the last of my pre-written fics before my first poll, so now I *have* to work on figuring out how to write Loki...

Also a fill for @badthingshappenbingo! The bad thing happening to the protagonist is pretty light, *but* it's still a not-terribly-fun thing, so I figure it works out.

I was trying to write something else for this for ages (read: almost 3 years), but it never came out the way I wanted it to, and I still had this ancient prompt to fill so I figured I'd try not to make a huge story out of it and just do some writing exercises to get back into it. And the normal stuff wasn't working so I flipped the angst on its head to something a bit more BAMFy. Still a bad thing happening though. 

The MacGuffin here is pretty simple but hey, it works.

Lightning Before The Thunder Rating: Gen No pairings

On occasion, Doctor Strange still had to do mundane, normal-people things. He still needed to buy food and even magic wasn't quite as effective as the dry cleaners two blocks away for his suit, whenever he needed to wear it for whatever occasion presented itself.

Today it was the bank. The New York Sanctum still sat in the city it was named after, which meant that every year property taxes were due. And sometime between the Blip and now, the automatic payment to the city on the Sanctum's bank account stopped going through despite nothing changing, which meant Stephen had to go talk to someone to get it fixed. He figured it'd be easier to do it in person than try to navigate the menus in the bank's phone system and never ending hold times that characterized every customer service center after the Blip.

Despite his rather unfortunate infamy that came with his involvement with the Infinity Stones and the last battle against Thanos, he wasn't recognized nearly as often as, say, Tony Stark or Steve Rogers once were. In casual wear people rarely recognized him, and it was only once he gave his name that recognition lit up in stranger's eyes. He was thankful for the relative anonymity.

Stephen wasn't sure if said anonymity was a blessing or a curse when four armed robbers stormed the bank five minutes into his appointment. On one hand, they may have shot him for it if they thought he was a threat.

On the other hand, maybe that would have meant that the security guard wouldn't have been shot.

Each second of calculation felt like a minute. He could go immediately on the offensive and attack them, but their guns were pointed at clerks and patrons as they shouted for everyone to get down. They had already shot someone and the man was bleeding heavily.

He had a life to save first. He needed to play doctor—and hostage—before he could do anything else.

Stephen crawled to the security guard even as the robbers shouted orders across the building. He shed his outer shirt and pressed it against the security guard's bleeding shoulder. When he cried out in pain, one of the gunmen turned to him. 

"The fuck you doing? Get on the ground!" He turned the barrel at him. 

"I'm a doctor," Stephen said, voice even. He'd certainly faced worse, though he was really regretting not bringing the Cloak with him. "Let me help him."

The man hesitated, but another spoke up as he addressed the majority of the people by the counters. "Stay on the fucking ground and y'all live, right? Just stay there. No phones!"

That seemed to be enough for the gunman focused on Stephen. "Stay there," he ordered.

Stephen complied. Underneath his blood-soaked dress shirt he silently applied subtle healing magic to constrict blood flow from the wound, the glow barely going through the cloth. The security guard frowned at what would have been an unusual, warm feeling.

"What…"

"I'm a doctor," Stephen repeated. The blood flow was slowing down. He glanced over his shoulder to gauge the situation. Once he heard sirens outside and the gunmen were separated, he could act.

The security guard winced. "Is it—supposed to feel like that?" He glanced at his shoulder with a grimace that twisted into a confused frown as he caught some of the glow from underneath Stephen's shirt. "What the—"

"My name," he cut him off, words soft yet sharp, "is Doctor Stephen Strange. Do you understand?"

The man's eyes lit up in recognition. His gaze went beyond him to the action in the background. "Can you—can you help—"

"Everything will be fine," Stephen reassured him. "Just concentrate on breathing."

"Hey! No talking!" It seemed one of the robbers noticed their whispers. Stephen glanced up to see a gun being waved in his general direction, which was more annoying than frightening if he was to be entirely honest. Then again, his line of work had rather desensitized him, perhaps to a rather alarming degree. He wouldn't be able to get a shield out fast enough to stop a bullet.

Hmm. Were there spells out there that could? Probably. It was physical damage, so those that held against that may hold up.

His silence seemed to appease the gunman enough to get him to back off—or maybe it was the sirens finally at the building. Good. It would take a couple minutes for them to set up a perimeter, then he would act.

Stephen's chance came soon enough. The gunmen were split now with only two in the main foyer, and one of the two was wandering to the far end of the room to peek down the halls. Great.

He moved the security guard's hand to his wounded shoulder. "Press as hard as you can," he muttered. When the man did so, Stephen slipped his sling ring out of his pocket.

The first gunman was out in a blink. With one gesture Stephen tore the gun from the man's hands, scattering it to the other side of the bank. In the next the man fell through a portal that deposited him on the stairs of the building outside with barely a second to shout.

Still, his buddy heard the brief commotion, which worked perfectly for Stephen. He came from around the corner at a quick walk. "Jerry?"

That gunman suffered the same fate as Jerry. 

The bank employees and clients were staring at him now, naturally. With the other two robbers in the back room, Stephen felt it was safe enough for him to stand without anyone else getting hurt.

"Stay there," he told the other hostages. "I'll be right back." He strolled his way into the back where the other two robbers were.

They weren't even facing him when he approached. Disarming them and placing a portal under them almost felt like cheating. So it wasn't even two minutes later that Stephen was back in the front of the building. "All four of them have been deposited outside," he said to the person that looked like she was a manager. "Call the authorities and let them know it's only civilians within the building now, and that we need an ambulance." 

At her startled nod, he went back to the wounded security guard to see how he was holding up. "Medics will be here soon," he told him. "You'll be just fine."

"Thank—thank you."

"Don't mention it."

As he heard the front doors open a few minutes later, Stephen realized that he probably couldn't just slip away as he would have preferred to after giving the paramedics a summary. The civilians would definitely point his way, which meant he'd have to talk to the police.

Ugh. There went the rest of his day.

[pikechris]

people are sometimes surprised when I say that I actually like my job in a service station deli. well first of all this is ireland, 98% of customer interactions are polite and pleasant and the worst thing that can happen to me personally is when we get a bus full of teenagers who want chicken fillet rolls. or even worse, two in one day. happened this tuesday. but also i've found that it's actually perfect for my autism/adhd brain because:

I do the same things every day. there are tasks that have to be done every day and tasks that have to be done every week on a specific day. perfect. it's the thing others complain about the most, but me? just how I prefer it

constantly moving and doing something is what keeps me stimulated and staves off boredom aka the worst feeling ever. it gets pretty busy sometimes, which, ideal! I haven't had to touch a stim toy for MONTHS because I put all that excess energy to violently scrubbing dishes

I'm honestly the perfect employee because when I happen to have nothing to do I look for things to clean and tidy and shit and if that doesn't help I ask the manager for extra tasks to keep those hands occupied lol

re: previous point. I'm Fast so I always do everything that needs to be done, too. mostly because my brain takes the rules seriously and when the paperwork says I have to do something. well then I'll bloody well do it won't I. it says it right there. they like me because they know I'm reliable unlike the students who do weekends and even exceed expectations sometimes hah

clear instructions, love em. here I always know what to do and how to do it

the customer interactions follow a similar pattern and are almost always the same so I know what to say and ask and it's not stressful

sometimes people ask me where to find things and such and I Iove a) knowing things and being somebody who knows them and b) telling people about something I know, so it doesn't bother me

there's a whole bunch of safety compliance paperwork tasks like taking temperatures of food every hour that everyone finds annoying. but I love numbers and measuring things and statistics!! it's like ooh I wonder what's the temperature of this soup?? and then I stick a probe in there and find out and write it down! neat. tracking how quickly things cool down in the hot counter is entertaining

there's always 50 things to do at once. I will start 10 at a time. it works out fine. I can check the task list to see if I did it and tick it off. adhd kept in check ✓

others repeat the customers' orders to them to make sure they're getting it right so when I do it because echolalia & needing it to process the information, it goes unnoticed!!

I hate silence so the constant noise of the ovens and the radio and such are a good background noise. plus no one minds when I sing along to the radio as a stim because everyone does it, which is also why I feel safe enough to do so in the first place

no seriously doing stuff gives me energy, so I'm not tired after an 8.5 hour shift (this is even an observation others have made) and still can do the shopping, cook dinner, cook lunch for next day and be busy until midnight. something I couldn't do when studying, which was an energy drainer. huh

(I haven't had this much energy and motivation to do things since I was a CHILD. I'm not joking. I also haven't had a shutdown or anxiety attack or even a bad day in ages since I moved and started working. lying in bed depressed and feeling like I can't breathe? don't know her. also I can actually fall asleep immediately. my brain just shuts down. a feeling I haven't known for years. what is this magic)

I get to put things in the oven and make pizzas and bread and scones from scratch and generally do things I like and am good at and get paid for it! fuck yeah baking!!

I get to clean and put things in order and organise stock and the cold room and freezers and implement Systems and make things Full and GET PAID FOR IT

regular shifts 10-18, perfect, I don't have to get up too early either. allows for going to sleep at midnight and still getting the sweet eight hours

everybody is kind of doing their own thing most of the time and we're all busy so I'm not required to talk to my coworkers if I don't want to. but I can if I do. we all get along well. also good

sometimes I have an issue remembering how many fillings I put in that person's wrap if I wasn't paying that much attention but it's fine, if I charge them 40c less no one will know. there is no failing and no points deducted for a wrong answer. it's chill, no anxiety induced

I'm mostly on my own from 11:30ish until the end, the deli is my kingdom, I make the decisions, no one is in the way, I like it. I like it less when it's busy but I'm capable of handling it either way so eh *shrug*

i have a very good memory (when I do pay attention) so when there are regulars who order the same one or two things I remember them fast and now it's like. white wrap, peppers and plain chicken? and they're like. yeah!! :) I get to make someone happy with something so simple :)

sometimes people eat truly bizarre sandwiches and stuff and I get to internally laugh and/or wonder what the fuck is that. sometimes we actually do laugh about it after. it's fun

I'm also apparently the best new person they've ever had in this shop because I learn extremely fast so that's nice to hear lmao

i easily follow safety regulations such as wearing gloves at all times because dirty dishes and wet bits of food in the sink and raw meat and greasy utensils and sticky bread dough and the inside of the oven mitts are yucky to touch so that's another win-win for them and me

if not the company owner then at least the shop and deli managers are amazing. they will tell you to take any wastage you want without paying for it (because that is a stupid rule that exists that everyone thinks is nonsense and ignores. what's the difference if an out of date bag of crisps goes in the bin or is eaten?) just don't tell the boss, and will go out for drinks with you, and act like normal human beings who are a delight to work with

as a christmas bonus we all got a €50 one4all gift card which everyone thought was sort of shite and useless but are you kidding me? that means a free coffee machine. I got a free coffee machine with it. and a big discount on noise-cancelling wireless earbuds that are actually good and have a long battery life. amazing I'm telling you

yes we get the minimum wage but as someone who never worked or had much money I can live so well off of it? i can comfortably pay for rent and electricity and two grocery shoppings a week that aren't cheap, put a bunch aside, buy some treats online when I feel like it, go places every other week, and still have enough left. I flew to london in december just because. spent £130 on a concert ticket to the o2. I visit places that are a bit further away and stay a night or two once a month. I feel like I eat like a king when I have stuff like homemade bread with avocado spread, homemade cake, fresh strawberries and stuff for breakfast all the time. and that's just for cleaning and making sandwiches?? it sometimes feels unreal to me that I do it for money at all. it's like. housework. things I do anyway all the time at home. I have no reason to complain lol

anyway this is just how I personally feel :') but yeah I like working? who'd have thought. not me. I also feel like I'm the only one there who does. or anywhere really. because I'm so used to retail and service jobs being connected with annoyance and hate and doing them out of necessity etc etc... so I wanted to share that little bit of positive experience I guess. and needed to rant about it somewhere.

is it weird that working 42 hours a week in a shop improved my mental health? probably. but I also get it and can't believe I didn't figure it out earlier because. it's the moving lads. I'm in a constant state of busy. once I stop doing things and start lying in bed all day it goes downhill and the energy and motivation don't come back. but now? that's impossible. even on weekends. I can't put off the ironing because I need the uniform. I have to cook because I can't live on cheese toasties and the veg in the fridge is gonna go off if I don't use it. I have to travel because there's nothing to do in town except lying in bed all day. and once I make a Plan, not even the rain or having to get up at 6:30 to catch the morning bus stops me from following it. and I don't mean that in a stressful grind culture way, I mean it in a helpful actually-it's-pretty-slow-and-quiet way! I found a way of hacking the executive dysfunction completely by accident here and. it's a job

[thealolanchamp]

¡Introduction post!

Alola! First post here! In case you do not know me, I am Apoālewa, Champion of Alola! If my name is too difficult to pronounce that's ok, You can call me Dugga!

Here are my current pokemon with some info!

Evo the Sylveon, he's my service pokemon that helps me keep in check and ensure I'm under control of myself, he's an absolute sweetheart! He was a gift from my older half sister when I first met her(she had to adopt me after some unfortunate things that happened to me, I do not wish to say what exactly)

Mr.Squirt("lil Mister") the Primarina, my Ace in battle, he's been with me since I started my Island trials, as you can tell I was not the best at names when I was younger. He's quite a calm, gentle pokemon who enjoys his naps. He's also quite the Peirs enjoyer, you should see him make his way into whatever room has that guy's music playing!

Midnight the Lycanroc, you can guess by the name what variant of lycanroc she is lol, she's the playfully rough kind of pokemon, always nibbling on me or my clothes, rubbing her rocky parts on stuff(lost so much furniture to her). She's also what i like to call a "screamer", basically she doesn't bark, woof, ruff none of that, but SCREAMS like a bolthound that found something(usually at the late hours of the night too)

Jell-o the (shiny) Goodra, my only shiny pokemon, I found him as a goomy during a pause of rain near Po town I think, poor thing was dry from the sun:(, i got him near a shaded puddle and began to leave, but he refused to leave my side hehe, he's also caused a lot of furniture problems, he's joyfully lazy and he won't leave my chairs alone(goodra slime is hard to get out of fabric, worse is that stuff bleaches)

E ("Esper") the Espeon, a absolutely amazing if not shy companion, I got her after seeing an ad from a shelter about an eevee(her) that was used for shiny breeding and needed a home. I feel so happy that she felt safe enough around me to evolve into such a friendship related evolution. She surprisingly great in battle, the pokemon center said if mist be therapeutic for her(i make sure shes ok before and after every battle don't worry)

Mocha the (alolan) Raichu, probably my most food motivated pokemon😅, you shake a bag of food and he comes zooming, also no one told me the move Electric Terrain made them surf faster! He had to go to the pokemon center because he zoomed indoor and hit a wall🤦‍♂️(he's ok btw, happened several months ago)

Aohd(pronounced "ay") the Volcanrona, had no clue that Volcanronas are rare in Alola until guzma lost his shit at the sight of her as a Larvesta, she tends to lounge about ouside when not battling, soaking up the sun. Also I recommend to anyone thinking of having a Volcanrona to have a large backyard with easy access to sunlight and plenty vegetation, I've learned it's vital for their diets(just a tip)

Chase the Gardevoir, not my pokemon but my sister's, she(chase) is essentially a caregiver since Kahu(my sister) left for Paldea some time ago for education purposes, she helps me with chores and errands, she also speaks via ASL(Alolan Sign Language), I pretty much look up to her as a mother figure. Not sure where exactly she came from as Kahu found her as a Ralts on Poni island and apparently the Ralts line don't reside in Alola.

Rotom-Dex the Rotom, can't forget one of the most helpful pokemon I have! They were quite chatty too after they learned they can talk with the pokedex they possess, they're quite well trained for their job too! Always giving me needed tidbits about for forgettable pokemon so i won't falter in battle! Even though they don't battle themselves, they're quite vital to my job as champion!

¡Update!

So it seems I have been transported to the past via otherworldly means and now I have to make a new team for myself to ensure saftey, i currently have-

Mr.Squirt("lil Mister), he was one of the only two pokemon that came with me unfortunately, he's still the same ol' Primarina

"Arc-Dex"(RotomDex), Rotom, they started calling themselves that after I woke up in hisui, they resemble Akari's "ArcPhone", some modified phone. They still do not battle.

Ghostface the Cyndaquil, the professor here, Laventon gave her to me to ensure I learn of the "Hisuian" veriants of pokemon here, apparently she'll become a ghost type but i remember them being pure fire type, this may be interesting.

Anyways welcome to my blog, hope this wasn't too long! Don't be scared to ask questions!

[starburstchoir]

Hi as someone whos played Dragon Raja for a good amount of time (but not really much anymore whoops) i can tell you what features are the same or very similiar in Life Makeover for people who might have not played.

The housing feature. Both games feature pretty much the same housing mechanic where you can even build your house from scratch and visit friends. Tho the food mechanic is different bc i don't remember being able to eat at home (no baths either) but there is a hunger mechanic in dragon raja where you get boosts for eating and lose the ability to dash when hungry (theres also a chef job there so anyone who takes it can make their own food or give it to others)

In fact a lot of the furniture items are the exact same (theres a rug you can unlock that i also have in my dragon raja home)

The ability to repair furniture either urself or with a service and having players as i think a butler? Doesnt exist in LM like it does in DR tho i think they are introducing a roommate feature or something?

Character Customization - now its been a hot second since i touched Dragon Raja's character maker so i dont remember every feature but the two different types of gorl u can pick is the exact same....they just took out the male player option youd get in dragon raja (but dont let that stop you, i see you and i suppoet u keep going) also this is probably why pointy ears exist u can do it in dragon raja too

Guild costs real money to make....yes if you wanted to make your own guild it costs real money. I did this in Dragon Raja TWICE! i was used to being able to have a guild of just me and my gf and maybe a friend in other mmos that the auto combine and disbanding if under performing was new to me and our guild got merged with a random one....

I cant say for sure if this carried over bc i joined the first english guild i could get into

Auto joining guilds! Yup this happens in both! If you see a guild you want to apply to or know the name apply fast! Or get used to leaving guilds until you can join or make your own....

Weird translations and unmatching subs.....you get used to it....i feel like it was worse in dragon raja this seems to plague a lot of mobile games anyway

Dyeing system! Id say its MUCH better here where in DR you not only need the special currency for dyeing things the colors you unlocked were always random so youd have to keep going.....while you do unlock one random palette on extending in LM you're still free to unlock as much as u want (and its not one color per either)

Lots and lots of currencies and such....yup....at least theres not a lot of stuff taking up invo space you have to manage

The crane machine

If i missed anything feel free to add

[hardtoimagineblaireverchanging]

this could be the most incoherent string of text you have ever read but i want to try as hard as i can to sum up how im feeling, even though there are no words

i just sang through this is home and my voice sounded relatively deep, but not deep or masculine enough. i look down at my hands and they dont look like mine, they dont feel real, neither does my body, nor do i. im this close to using the pair of scissors i found on sunday, the ones i used to get my blades out of my sharpener, and my blades to just do my hair myself. knowing that its there is killing me. i want to cut my chest apart. i cant do anything to get it to look flatter. i never thought that i would want to but i really want to have top surgery, atleast now i do anyways. but the process is so long and its so expensive too. so is going on t. the only way either of those things would happen is if i go through private healthcare services, and that would be in a years time at least. i have the whole of two masculine outfits and ive been struggling to even wear pajamas because they all just seem so feminine. i hate every inch of my body and cant see anything masculine about it. i want to be toned, i want to have atleast slightly defined abs and muscles but its so out of reach for me because im fucking lazy, i want a v line, i want my collarbones and my jawline to be more prominent. i want my thighs to be thinner and more muscle rather than fat. i just want to look more like myself. i feel like im living someone elses life. people always say theyre ‘in the wrong body’ when they come out as trans but i well and truly am. i dont want this. i cant have this. its like a sick game and i want out. i dont know what other words to say. i cant find them. everything about me doesnt just feel wrong anymore, it is wrong. and it isnt taken seriously either.

im getting the worst urges in the world. i want to cut myself, burn myself, run away and make sure i dont get found. pack a bag, take everything i need with me, maybe take nothing at all. i know i wouldnt take my phone. id draw all the money i had out in cash, make myself harder to trace. or maybe i wouldnt take money. maybe id just disappear, completely. all i know is that im so tired, rhys, so fucking tired. you know the worst itll get is me harming myself, i wouldnt do anything worse than that, but i really want to. i cant cope with how real everything is. but it doesnt feel real enough at the same time. my thoughts are so conflicting and so confusing too, and all i want is quiet. youd be able to make things quiet. i know you would. i just want to sleep, lay with you. then ill stop thinking and itll be quiet.

my relationship with food is getting really messy again. part of me wants to eat and eat and keep eating until i start throwing up because i ate too much, part of me never wants to touch food again. i want to wither away. decay. i want everyone around me other than you to feel helpless, like this is their fault, because it is. the only person to help has been you, i wouldnt want you to feel guilty or helpless or responsible because you are the only good left in my pointless existence. i dont want to get out of bed or move ever again. i wont. things are really really bad this time. i think ive spent the best part of or atleast half an hour typing this out and i still feel there is so much more left to say or to explain but i dont know how to.