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mothereffingtae · 5 years

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Bread In The Oven [M] : KSJ

PAIRING. seokjin x reader

SUMMARY. the years of Seokjin’s hard work in the bakery finally payed off once it was awarded for its outstanding performance. What will your award be for him?

GENRE. crack humour (idk what I was doing), small smut, friends to lovers

WORD COUNT. 4958

Lecture tomorrow morning, food nutrition project due this week... and... what else... The movement of pen on paper slows to a complete stop. A sweet scent of honey and almonds has made its way into your room indicating that your roommate has been experimenting in the kitchen. Its smell too enticing to not see what has been baked. As you make your way down the stairs, you spot a glimpse of freshly made croissants and your feet move into autopilot mode making a beeline for the pastries.

“Yah! These literally just came out of the oven 30 seconds ago!” Jin exclaims as he turns around to see you scoffing down his new creations. “For a person studying to become a nutritionist, you seem to have a solid diet of mainly pastries.” He chuckles to himself while leaning against the counter watching you.

“Shut the fuck up Kim Seokjin.”

“You’re denying it.”

“Okay fine, my diet is as trashy as the Pacific Garbage Patch but it’s your fault for making big batches of pastries literally everyday.” You say with half a croissant in your mouth and the other half accusingly pointing at him.

His hands come up in the air to surrender, “Sure it is my fault that you have no self- OW WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” The croissant that was once in your hand was now lying on the kitchen floor after bouncing off his face.

“That was for making these binge worthy pieces of dough!” You state whilst grabbing two other croissants in each hand and storming back up the stairs, leaving Seokjin in the kitchen.

“I bet you’ll enjoy those!” He was right, that’s for sure.

“Y/N WHAT’S UP!” Comes out of nowhere while you were walking along the campus field.

“It is 9 in the morning what do you want Mark?” You eye the Canadian foreign student who you adore and loath.

“Do you have those croissants Seokjin made?” He cuts infront of you to give those damn puppy eyes that’s impossible to resist. Ugh, you need to stop eating pastries anyways. You throw the container into his chest, the two connecting with a thud.

“Y/N stop abusing the child.” You hear a faint voice to your left.

“Oh god not you too.” You groan.

“Hey Jungkook!” Mark energetically waves his container full of croissants in the air which catches Jungkook’s attention. Soon enough you have the two young boys stuffing their face in what was supposed to be your mid-morning snack.

“Children,” you tease them, “slow down or else you’re going to puke that all up.”

“That’s, okay... makes room... for more.” Jungkook mumbles between bites.

Oh dear lord, how will you survive this lecture?

News flash, you barely came out of that lecture alive. Both Mark and Jungkook were constantly pestering you to go to the bakery with them so they could get your discount. A discount? Yeah, a discount. One that is only given when Seokjin is working in the bakery, which is usually everyday.

The door chimes ring as the three of you enter and Seokjin’s head snaps to greet the customer aka you guys with his award winning “welcome to The Bread Box how may I help you smile” drilled into his face. But his mouth widens to a grin when you locks eyes with you.

“Oh isn’t it my favourite customer!” He booms while smiling at you.

“Me hyung? Oh gee thanks.” Jungkook remarks which earns an elbow into his ribs from you. You patiently wait for the two to pick out their food but Mark and Jungkook stand in front of the display looking completely dumbfounded and silent.

“Well what’s the problem?” You question while gesturing to the baked goods,

“Too many options.” Mark mumbles wide-eyed.

“Take your pick. That’s what we came here for you bafoons.” You state and Seokjin faintly chuckles on the other side of the counter.

As you watch the two males slowly choose their food another voice booms from behind the counter, “Ah, isn’t it MY favourite customer!” You turn to see your friend, your ride or die, your favourite Kim you tease Soekjin - Kim Namjoon.

“I didn’t know you were working today!” You shriek while trying to reach over the counter for a hug.

“Yeah, the manager called me last minute so here I am.” He says while gesturing to the whole store with open arms.

“Y/N we’re done picking!” Mark’s voice chimes. You turn away from Namjoon to be met with an apologetic but steel-eyed Seokjin holding a hefty bag full of pastries. He tried to give you the biggest discount possible without being too obvious.

Once you paid for the food, the door chimes ring as the door opens to introduce the sound of girls chattering. As they passed you, you saw that all of them looked gorgeous and you couldn’t help but send a wink to Seokjin who turned pink in the ears. How he manages to become so flustered around girls amazes you.

“Have fun with them.” You whisper to him before you wave the Kim’s a goodbye and leaving a red eared and flustered Seokjin to deal with the giggling girls.

The next day the door of The Bread Basket chimes again. You scanned the area to spot Seokjin’s broad shoulders moving back and forth as he worked with dough. He was a master with his hands and a master with food.

When you first moved in with him, there were 2 other people-Hoseok and Jisoo-until the left. The first few weeks you were extremely shy being around so many new faces. However, Seokjin tried his best to make you comfortable by baking you insane amounts of goodies that a reasonable person would never eat in one day, let alone a week. That’s how you found out he’s been working at that bakery ever since his senior year in high school.

Baking was in his blood and it was his passion.

You took homage in your usual window seat and whipped out all your school work. This was the best place for you to focus. It may seem odd because the constant smell of bread would make anyones stomach rumble. But you took a liking to the cute aura, plus the manager and all the staff took a liking in you as well.

At some point in the middle of your studies, the door chimes jingled and the same girls from yesterday poured through the entrance. Ugh, the groupies you decided to call them. From the information Seokjin told you last night, they’re clawing for his attention to only leave empty handed. For Christ’s sake if you’re going to try so hard to hold a 15 minute conversation with him, give some damn money.

“Jinnniiieee!” A girl squeals.

Oh god.

Your hands gripped harder on the pencil to the point where your fingers and knuckles were turning white. “Oh Seokjin it smells so good in here!”

BLAH! Not to over-exaggerate but you wanted to rip out the ribs from your chest and hit them with it.

The way all the girls tried so hard to grab his attention makes you wonder who you actually pity. The girls or Seokjin? Yes, the girls are very upfront with their admiration towards the man you’ll give them that, but he’s too oblivious and innocent to their actions.

Seokjin offers them his customer service smile and cheerful replies, “The bread just got out of the oven a couple minutes ago!” You watched the scene unfold from afar and it makes you smile how passionate he is for his love of baking.

He offers the ladies some samples. This causes a flurry of squeals and inhumane sounds come from the group which causes you to cradle your head in your hands.

At least they’ll leave soon, you think to yourself.

It’s been an hour and they’re still there.

Your pencil and paper has broken and ripped at least 40 times within those precious sixty minutes where you could have done decent work. However, thanks to those love-stricken girls, you had no chance of focusing on the task in front of you. Seokjin happened to see your stressed state and tried to subtly kick the girls out of The Bread Basket but it didn’t work for a couple of tries.

Once they finally left, you fell back in you chair and let out a big sigh of relief, “Thank God! I was about to stab one of them with my dull pencil.”

He chuckled to himself, “Exactly why I tried to get them out. Didn’t want to be part of a crime scene you know?” His classic smirk’s plastered across his face. “But they are very clingy and kind of, I guess, annoying.”

“You guess?! Dude!” You jump up and walk towards the counter, “They’re so into you! They all like you a lot!”

“Of course they all like me, who doesn’t? OW I swear to God stop hitting me.”

“You need to ask one of them out or something like that so they would stop trying to grab your attention.” You tell him, to which his whole body goes rigid as a response. “What? Don’t like girls? That’s totally cool you know, I’ve never seen you with one, sorry for assuming. You know you and Namjoon look-”

“I’m not gay you idiot.” He hits you with the towel that he usually wipes the counters with, “it’s just I don’t like them.”

“Then tell them that! Life for you and me would be so much easier with them gone!” You exhaust.

“What’s your issue with them? Oh wait don’t tell me...” He looks up at the ceiling with his hands over his mouth in concentration, “Ah I got it! It’s because you like me don’t you?” He concludes with a grin on his features as he leans in to challenge you.

“Okay fine! If you don’t want to kick them out then I guess you won’t see me-you know, your favourite customer-in this place again! Ugh now I would have to go to the library for a new environment.” You turn to go back to your work.

“But honestly Jin,” your feet stop only to turn your body to face him again, “you’re very sweet and gentle with everyone but there’s a time and place to say how you actually feel, life would be so much easier.” You pack your stuff in hopes of finding a place to actually get work done.

When Seokjin enters your shared home that night, his eyes automatically land on you sprawled out on the couch, notes scattered all over the floor with your drool staining the pillow. Despite your disheveled form, the sight in front of him sends butterflies to his stomach and he couldn’t help but melt.

In only two strides, he walks to the couch and picks you up like a bride.

You stir in his arms which causes him to halt his movements, but once you appeared to find a comfortable position in his hold, he begins to walk upstairs to your bedroom. He nearly trips, but he gets there.

As he lays you down on your bed, he soaks in the view before him. He thinks it’s illegal for someone to look that good even with the moonlit drool falling down your chin. He then realizes you were wearing the clothes that engulfed your frame was the same ones you wore in the bakery.

“Always working too hard to care for yourself.” He sighs to himself, but he admires that trait of yours. He gets up to make himself ready for bed but as he steps out the doorway he looks back at you and his breath catches in his throat.

The pale moonlight catches you at the right angle that paints shadows across your face in a way that made it look like Leonardo DaVinci did it himself.

He is in trouble for sure.

“Hey, Y/N” Seokjin approaches you slowly at the dining table.

“What do you want now?” You slur with your mouth full of bread causing crumbs to project from your mouth and nearly hit his face as he takes a seat in front of you. His body is still as he sits there looking down at his hands as if he was about to confess a heavy secret. “Woah hold on here,” His eyes shoot up to meet yours like a deer in headlights. “Did you murder someone because you look awfully pale and I’m not about to be an accessory.”

His head falls back as he lets out a big sigh, “Why did I even let you become a roommate?”

“To pay rent.”

As he looks back up, his eyes mirror anxiousness despite your attempt at a light hearted joke. “Uhm- I- there’s...” You nod your head encouraging him to formulate a real sentence. “So, the bakery I work at-you know that one right?” You hum in agreement, “well, we just won an award-”

“WAIT WHAT!” You stand up in disbelief and run over to attack him with a hug. You release him but grip onto his shoulders as you shake him back and forth, “That’s amazing Jinnie! Why did you look so nervous before telling me?”

“Well if you let me finish I would’ve told you.” He chuckles.

“Oh - yeah sorry about that but please continue!”

“We are being visited by the Mayor next week in this event to celebrate our acknowledgment from the national food network. The thing is... how do I word this correctly... I want to, you know, find a date.” He finishes it off with a cringe in his voice and face.

You’re so dumbfounded because there’s too much information processing in your head: there’s the Mayor, the food network, and then some sort of date conundrum! You end up just staring at him for a bit until you understand his somewhat of a dilemma. “And the problem is?”

“I can’t find a date.”

“HOLD UP! How can YOU not find a date! You are literally the girl magnet in this town. Just walk down the street and maybe you’ll find someone. Wait! Even better! Ask one of your regular groupies to go with you!” You’re on your feet pacing around the dining room by the end of your speech.

“Okay, one, I’m not paying anyone to go with me, two, they’re not groupies-”

“That’s debatable.” You interject.

“-and three, I was kind of hoping you would come with me.”

You stop dead in your tracks. Hesitantly, you turn around to see Seokjin’s eyes swirl with anxiousness and worry. If he was joking, he surely delivered it poorly. “Are you sure?” You question.

“What do you mean ‘are you sure?’ Of course I’m sure you dumbass! I would love to have you beside me!” He exasperated.

“Woah, you were literally all meek and shy just a couple of seconds ago.” You laugh, “I was just making sure, but yes,” you grab his hands in yours to dramatize the moment, “I would be honoured to be your date.” By now you’re showing off a huge, goofy grin. His eyes warm into a chocolate brown as he takes in your cheery features. The way you never fail to make him smile amazes him, but your ability to make him so anxious also amazes and scares him.

FUCK

Why do you have such an effect on him?

The morning after Seokjin’s invitation, you pull up into the parking lot in front of the mall.

“Why did you park so far away?” Jisoo whined.

“Got to get those ten thousand steps in.”

Once entering the mall, you slow down your steps, contemplating where to start. Before you could think, Jisoo already has a death grip on your arm pulling you towards what she calls “the best place to shop for dresses.”

Well, she was right. All the dresses in the huge store ranged from elementary graduation to dick appointment type of dresses. Jisoo-being the friend she is-handed you the latter.

“Jisoo! I’m not trying to get into his or anyone’s pants!” You squeal as you grab the dress from her hands and shove it back onto the rack.

“Damn girl I was just trying to help you get the night of your life okay?”

“Thank you, but no thank you.” You state. “I don’t like the guy like that and he doesn’t like me like that either.”

“That was way to many ‘likes’ in one sentence, I honestly didn’t understand what you were trying to say.”

You hit her in the arm with a hanger as a response. “Long story short, we don’t have any feelings for each other.” No response comes for a while so you turn to see if she was still beside you. You come to face a dead-panned Jisoo looking far from impressed with your statement. “What?”

“Girl, you are literally blind! He likes you! I could tell by the moment you stepped into the apartment that he has fallen into a deep hole.” She exasperates, drawing in some strange looks from other shoppers. “Trust me, I’m picking a dress for you and it will DEFINITELY prove that he has feelings for you.”

Shit. Why did Jisoo have to convince you to pick this dress. Yes, it was gorgeous on you. Yes, it hugged all the right place, but you were scared it was going to draw too much attention. You’re not even sure if it’s appropriate attire to meet the mayor in.

It was a long silk dress in the colour of dark mahogany. It hugged you at your waist, hips and thighs and slightly flared out once it hit your knees. The thin straps and low neckline would give people a little tease of what’s under there, but not enough to cause people to give you dirty stares - well, hopefully.

As you take one more look in the mirror, your palms begin to become clammy. What if Seokjin doesn’t like it? What if it’s too much? What if... no, forget it, just get out there. You grab your matching clutch purse and leave.

When turning around the corner to reach the stairs, you spot him at the bottom in front of the mirror touching up his appearance. He’s dressed in a full tux with his hair brushed away from his forehead.

“You clean up nice.” You comment.

“Of course I do, I’m-” His words get caught in his throat and his jaw drops as he takes in your appearance. You unmistakably see him gulp and it increases your ego a little bit. “You look beautiful.”

Blood rushes to your cheek and you look down to hide the evidence, “Uh- thank you.” Seokjin can feel the blood rushing through his body, primarily the lower region. His first instinct was to start panicking because who wants to have a boner in front of their best friend? The only reasonable thing he could think of doing is slapping himself in the face. You nearly double over in laughter, “Are you good?”

“Yeah, just making sure I’m not dreaming. I’ve never seen you look half-decent before.” He jokes which earns him a hit in the arm and he exaggerates the pain.

“Y/N,” he extends his right elbow, “it would be an honour to escort you out.”

You jokingly curtsy, which accidentally exposed a little more cleavage, and you loop your arm through his.

This is going to be a long night for Seokjin.

“Holy shit holy shit holy shit!” You repeat like a mantra while hitting Seokjin’s arm.

“Yah! What’s with you and abusing me?” Seokjin looks at you paranoid.

“It’s the mayor and it looks like he’s coming here.” Seokjin’s eyes follow where yours are looking and finds that you are indeed correct. Automatically Seokjin pulls off his signature smile and extends a hand for the mayor to shake.

“Ah, you must be Seokjin! I’ve heard you’re a big name in The Bread Basket, I can assume you’re the popular baker everyone talks about - especially the girls.” The mayor jokes in which Seokjin shuffles in his spot uncomfortably.

“Ha ha heh, I guess so.” Seokjin replies.

“Well, who is this fine, young woman?” The mayor extends his hand to you to which you take as if it was a quick shake but he takes it to kiss the back of your hand.

“I’m his friend.” You reply with a bright smile.

The exchange between the three of you continues for a decent time. You and mayor start a good conversation about your shared interest in food and nutritional facts of the catered food while Seokjin adds short remarks every now and then. Unfortunately for you, the mayor had to leave and he went in for a friendly hug with you and Seokjin.

Once he turned away Seokjin breathed out a big huff of air. “I’ve never felt like shitting my pants before but now I can finally check that off the list. By the way, how were you so calm with him?” He questions as you begin to walk around the venue.

“I honestly don’t know. I guess my degree is paying off.” You reply with a shrug.

“I wish I could be like you.” He says.

“Aw thanks Jinnie, that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve said to me.” You joke. You two continue walking around and talking to other people and the media for an hour or so until you make yourselves comfortable on a patio looking out at the glimmering lake. Thankfully, you two were the only ones occupying that space which was a nice contrast to the buzzing main hall.

You’re leaning against the railing while Seokjin is sitting on a chair by the door, both of you were exhausted from the socializing. Seokjin’s eyes lazily traces your silhouette that was drawn by the moonlight. Gosh, you were a view to take in. How you don’t have a boyfriend surprises him, but he’s grateful for that.

His eyes trace a path from the crown of your head, down the hair that is swooped over your shoulder, to the exposed line down your back all the way to your ass - in which he stops himself because he knows he shouldn’t be checking out his best friend; yet there he was.

As you were looking towards the horizon where the water meets the sky, you felt the presence of eyes boring to the skin on your back. You knew it was Seokjin staring at you, yet again. You caught him staring at you multiple times in your peripheral vision but didn’t bother confronting him about it. Maybe it’s the fancy occasion, the amount of champagne you drank, or the fact that he looks extremely fine in a fully tux, but you actually love the fact that he’s been staring at you.

Thank you Jisoo for picking this dress.

“Hey Seokjin,” you look at him over your shoulder.

“Yes Y/N?” He sits up straighter in his chair.

“Do you want to go back home?”

The drive back was somewhat tense to say the least. Seokjin looked awfully stiff while holding the steering wheel. Little did you know, he was partially aroused by the way your breasts would softly move up and down by the slightest cracks in the road. He scowled at himself for being perverted around his best friend.

You had somewhat pieced together what the situation was but didn’t jump to conclusions. You tested the waters by leaning your elbow against the ledge of car door to expose more skin. When nothing seemed to change, you began to “stretch” - also known as a whole lot of back arching and shoving your chest towards the sky.

One particular side glance from Seokjin nearly caused him to swerve the car. Your hands were gripping the sides of the car seat beside your legs, your back arched in a way the made your breasts look three times bigger, and the slight whine in the back of your throat made all the blood rush to his dick.

“Fuck” He muttered but you heard and feigned innocence by asking him what’s wrong. Fucking tease, he knew exactly what you were doing so he pushed the gas a little harder. Your antics still continued and you couldn’t decide whether it was the champagne or the new aroused feeling pushing you further.

Those last 10 minutes were probably the most sexually frustrated you’ve ever been and you predict you could say the same for Jin. His hard-on wasn’t exactly difficult to spot in the moonlight. Both of you were buzzing with the alcohol. Both of you were stealing glances.

Both of you wanted each other.

So it wasn’t a surprise that when you entered your shared home, you quickly found your bare skin against the bed sheets with Seokjin’s head in between your thighs. The sounds of his tongue working against your clit and slit sounded anything but holy, but god does it send you to heaven.

“Mmf-f-fuck Soekjin.” You breathe out. His tongue moves against your lower lips in a way that has you gripping and pulling on his hair even harder. He looks up at you with mischief in his eyes while his lips and chin glisten with your wetness.

Fuck.

You toss your head back at the sight, you honestly could’ve came just by looking at the sinful view in front of you.

“I never knew you would taste so good Y/N” he breathes against your heat which causes you to lift your hips towards his mouth out of greed. “Tsk Tsk, you were never good with patience.” He states as he climbs on top of you to place a firm kiss on your lips, giving you a taste of yourself. Your hand comes up to caress his arms and moves to the base of his nape, combing through the short hairs. He breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against your, eyes burning into one another with passion and lust.

His actions slowly came to a full halt as you continued to look at each other. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop this?” You question while holding his cheek.

He kisses the inside of your palm. “No, I’m just trying not to rush this. I’ve liked you for a really long time and-”

“Shh, I like you too. We can talk about this after but right now I’m in dire need for your dick to be inside of me right now.”

Seokjin groans at your statement while he buried his face in your neck. You also noted the twitch you felt against your thighs. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Well you cant just eat me out like that and try to hold a conversation with me after.”

He chuckles, “Touché. But are you sure you want this?” He asks with concern swimming through his words.

You lean in and take his lips in a deep kiss, “yes”.

The wait to have his length inside you was excruciating. You were getting impossibly wet just thinking about his dick, you always wondered what it would feel like to have him inside-

“Oh fuck!” You moan as he pushes himself inside of you.

“Shit sorry are you okay?”

“Yeah, keep going it feels so fucking good-mmf” your words are slowly slurring together as he picks up the pace.

The feeling of his skin against yours and him inside of you was unimaginable. It exceeded your expectation and dreams. Yes, you dreamt about this moment. You dreamt about it too often and your dreams finally came true. Seokjin ended up having you come three times and topped your list for most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever experienced. Your chest heaved up and down as he walked away to only come back with a towel to help clean you off.

The consequences of what just unfolded started to float in your mind. You toyed with confronting him while he was cleaning you up, but was that too weird? Tomorrow is an option but that might be awkward to bring it up again. Maybe-

“Hey,” Seokjin interrupts your train of thought as he sinks in the bed beside you, “don’t think about it too much, just know that this didn’t mean nothing to me and you hold a special place in my heart.”

You smile at his statement, “this didn’t mean nothing to me either.” You moved forward to press your lips against his.

“Well,” Seokjin pulls back with a wide grin. “I guess that settles it then. Nice talk!” He jokes.

You hit him in the chest, “I was being sincere!”

“I know you are, but i don’t know how to wrap around the fact that I finally have the chance to call you mine.” He says in disbelief.

You two stay in comfortable silence in each other’s arms until he breaks the silence. “Hey, I just want to say...” He pauses as if he’s searching for the right words.

“Thank you for eating all my creations.”

To say you laughed out a lung is an understatement.

“Why are you laughing? You helped me create all those recipes for The Bread Basket! You also told me to speak out how I truly feel and now you’re laughing at me? I’m hurt.” He places a hand over his heart to emphasize his pain.

You continue wheezing and wiping the tears off your face. “I just expected you to say a shitty joke like ‘I got to put the bread in the oven’.”

“I mean,” He says while placing his hands behind his head and smugly looking at you, “I accomplished that too.”

A/N. if you ended up getting to this point I want to thank you for reading it! This is my first time writing smut so it 9/10 is pretty shitty. Anyways hope you enjoyed it, feedback/constructive criticism is greatly appreciated !!

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lansdellicious · 4 years

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Being Not OK

Almost everything I post on this blog is about food. As a writer at heart though, sometimes I need a place to express other things that really aren’t for Facebook, but are important to share. Normalizing these things is important to me, and the catharsis provided by putting feelings into words is not to be understated. In case you haven’t realised, this is very much not a food post. It will contain some topics that may be triggering for some, so feel free to click away now. I don’t anticipate this being an easy read.

For most of this isolation period, I was fine. I made a concerted effort to check in with friends, I was keeping my mood light, and aside from some “survivor’s” guilt over getting paid despite being unable to work I was largely unscarred mentally.I was able and happy to use my extra emotional bandwidth to support my loved ones who needed it, and all was well.

I’m not sure when it changed. I am what you might call an introverted extrovert; while I love being around people and adore performing and the spotlight, I need my alone time to decompress and “decontaminate” to a degree. A combination of the destruction of my routine, an inability to get the level of exercise I need, the slow onset of self-loathing as I felt my fitness slipping away, a hefty slice of cabin fever, the inability to see and hug my friends, the panic of the general public, the stupidity of some members of that public, losing my cat after 14 years of companionship (and the sickness the came before it), and the cycle of frustration and anger that went with it - it’s been hard. I am lucky enough to have a super-strong family support network who understand my needs to get me through, at least to the point I’m at now where I am somewhat close to functioning below par.

I have always been proud of my talent for listening to people. I’ve been told that I am easy to talk to, that I listen well, that I give good advice. I try to understand and to learn all I can about people because I genuinely care, and I think that makes me a better listener and support person. My fiancée calls me (jokingly...I hope) Lucifer because I seem to have a talent for making people comfortable enough to share things with me they otherwise would not share with anyone. All these little things that were weighing on me left me feeling like I couldn’t offer that support to people who needed it. Now for many people that would be an intelligent, self-preserving decision. For me though, I derive genuine joy from helping others. It might actually go beyond that, to the point where I need it on some level to feel valued and to earn the gratitude of others. I got angry with myself because I could not fill that role, and then got frustrated with myself for getting angry with myself. I knew I was doing it to save myself and practice some self-care, but that didn’t seem to be enough for some part of my asshole brain.

Over the past couple of years I have been working hard to change me on a body and fitness level. It was slow going and it took effort, but I was finally getting to a point where I was proud of what I had accomplished and starting to like how I was looking. I have joked that my Fitbit now thinks I sold it, because my average daily step count is literally a third of what it was. I can’t go to the gym. I tried using resistance bands but there’s only so many times I can do the same things before it becomes boring. I have not weighed myself, but I know I am not in the shape I was. And that hurts, because I know how hard it was to get here and I know I had work still to do, and now I am set back. I get that I am not alone, and I know I can do it again, but still...irrational brain is irrational.

It’s been a week now since I lost Vader. He was sick for at least a week before that, although we didn’t know it. I cried more in that week between vet visits than in the three prior years combined. Until that time, I never really understood the people who talked about “fur babies” and the depth of the love some people seemed to have for their pets. I loved Vader, sure, but I somehow made it to 41 without ever having to make the call to say goodbye to a pet. The only loved ones I can remember losing, my two maternal grandparents, both died while I was in Canada and they were in England, and the distance insulated me. Vader was the first loved one I had to watch deteriorate, the first pet I had to lose. I was not prepared for the pain. Strangely though, it seems to have unclogged my emotional drain if you will. After 14 years of watching me cry, struggle, wallow, try and fail to find happiness, and finally find it, I lost my most loyal and consistent companion and friend...and he still found a way, in leaving me, to make me better. The inability to cry has plagued me, and I knew it needed to change but nothing I tried would work. Now, I feel like my full range of emotions is open to me again.

It’s ironic that I, as a person who will tell all and sundry that therapy is excellent and that everyone should see a therapist, have resisted going for so long. I have spent so long analyzing myself and trying to understand things that I had myself convinced that I would not be a good candidate for it, because I will see through everything and just game the system. That’s ludicrous of course, but so is everything else I have been feeling. It’s not out of fear of the stigma that I haven’t seen a professional, it’s hubris that I could do this on my own, or that others needed me, or some other confluence of nonsense that made me think I knew better than...myself, really. I will be getting help.

I would not be able to say all this were it not for some wonderful friends and the most amazing family. I don’t need to list the people who have held me up; they know who they are and they should know that I love them endlessly. I love love, giving it and receiving it. It’s something else that I feel needs to be normalised, the expression of platonic love and the comfort to admit that we need each other as humans. Independence is desirable and admirable but ultimately not the only trait worth pursuing. Even the most independent among us will occasionally need others, not for validation or completion but for amplification. Love amplifies us.

I don’t really know why I felt like I had to write this. I don’t know if it’s finished. I know it feels better now though.If you stuck with me all the way, thanks and I’m sorry you were that bored! I love you all. Be well.

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rwbyconversations · 6 years

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“It was never about that,” or why Sun went to Menagerie

One of my favorite characters in RWBY is the absolute madlad himself, Sun Wukong. Be it his constant charisma, Michael’s consistently great vocal performance, his fantastic weapons and two of the better fights in their respective volumes, Sun has constantly been near or even in the top ten list of my favorite characters of the show. Perhaps the largest reason for that though is how Sun is a very consistent character in his own right.

One of the more controversial choices Sun has made however was his following of Blake to Menagerie in Volume 4. Following this Sun got accusations of being a stalker, of only going so he could have sex with Blake, of being someone who didn’t care for Blake as a person beyond wanting what he couldn’t have. To which I say, “It’s OK for you to have bad opinions.”

Regardless. I think this take on Sun is quite unfair, and as such, today I’d like to explain why Sun went to Menagerie and why he wasn’t doing it just to kiss Blake. Also be warned that the end of this post has spoilers for Volume 6 Chapter 1. Thanks to @fakebrandon for supplying many of the images in this post.

(how can anyone hate this pure lad istg)

1) Miscommunication and Sun’s bullheadedness

You know how I said Sun’s a consistent character throughout the whole show? I wasn’t kidding, even as far back as Volume 2.

Sun may not be as good a leader as Ruby, but he does get the core idea of what Ozpin taught Ruby (and she subsequently taught Jaune) in Volume 1- strength in unity. Ruby phrases it as how the leader must put their team before themselves, Sun instead sees it as working together as a group to overcome what one person cannot. His ideals are consistent about this- Sun always tries to help and when he can, he gets people involved. It’s quite fitting then that Sun is one of the students who takes charge during the Fall of Beacon, trying to get everyone out along with Port and Oobleck.

Butting his head in is one of Sun’s most enduring traits, one fitting for the Monkey King. Unfortunately it’s also one that causes him no end of strife in Volume 4 when he goes after Blake.

Sun, I love you, but what possessed you to think this was a good idea beyond the cool factor?

It’s largely due to miscommunication that Sun follows Blake- in his own words he thinks she’s going on a “one-woman rampage against the White Fang!” Sun’s moral compass refuses to let him sit by while he thinks Blake is risking life and limb on what’s effectively a suicide mission. Notice how Sun’s crush on Blake never comes up in the conversation, in fact barring Sun making a few cases of verbal innuendo, it’s never addressed directly in Volume 4. Sun is a bit flirty during the Sea Dragon fight with his quips-

Keep in mind how Blake looks in these GIFs... we’ll be coming back to this later

But he doesn’t take it past that. He doesn’t even go for anything intimate like a hug once the Grimm has been destroyed. Sun goes for, of all things, a high-five.

While yes, Sun could have approached Blake in a less foolish manner and gotten himself a few less slaps in the process, it fits his character to be so brazen. Sun’s always been someone who wants to help his friends, and that brazen, cocksure attitude was what Blake needed when she was recovering; someone who wanted to help her, but didn’t want anything from it. Keep in mind that Sun never tries to take advantage of Blake while she recovers, no hugs, kisses or even finger guns. Remember, he thought she was going on a vengeance mission, his crush never factors into it on a conscious level- no doubt it influenced his decision to stick the rest of SSN on a bus to offscreen land on a subconscious level, but Sun as a character has always remained true to his roots of getting involved for better or for worse. And in this case, for the better. And his following Blake is just nailing that trait of his to the wall.

2) Blake needed someone to help her learn to stop running

Blake had a bad habit of running from her problems in the early days of RWBY- she ran from her parents when they left the White Fang, she ran from Adam when he became a kill-happy psycho, and she ran from Beacon when said psycho decided to help Yang on a radical weight-loss program involving her limb. The one time she refuses to run at the Fall of Beacon, Adam punishes her for it with a gut-stab and a fresh amputation. So once she could, Blake ran. She ran before Yang had even regained consciousness from the wound sustained for Blake, apparently only staying on Patch long enough to make sure everyone on-board got out alive before running for the hills.

While Sun followed Blake because he assumed she was going to war, Sun serves a vital purpose in Blake’s character arc of getting her to stop running from her problems and, at least partly, get her to stop blaming herself for the actions others take.

Blake only really proves Sun’s point during their confrontations across the last third of Volume 4- Blake is aggressive, outright slapping him twice, hard enough that he felt pain from it, something Arryn herself has felt was out of character for her. Even in spite of that he puts himself at risk to secure the scroll, taking a nasty shot to the shoulder in the first confrontation with Ilia. When Sun wakes up, Blake immediately begins making his injury about her and why she left, even ordering him to shut up at one point.

But Sun doesn’t give in to anger or snap at her like Adam would. Instead Sun waits for her to finish before calmly and gently calling Blake on her bullshit. Sun bluntly tells Blake that while she can make her choices...

This is Sun at his most solemn and quiet as he speaks to Blake, Michael kills it with his performance here. Sun only puts the pressure on Blake to finally make her realize the flaws in her self-loathing, to pull her out of the darkness that she believes her past with the White Fang has drenched her in and into the light of acceptance and redemption. Or as Like Morning Follows Night put it:

Life's not a game you can play to get even We all make mistakes, but we need to move on I know that you hate where you strayed Forgiving yourself is the only way Just look ahead, yesterday is gone

The kicker is, this works. Thanks to Sun helping to pull her out of her funk, the Blake we see in Volume 5 is much more balanced as an individual. She still looks on the past with regret, but now is more set on striding forward and changing the future, emboldened by the mistakes of the past. While Ghira and Kali would have pulled Blake back from the brink with the time, acceptance and love that only a parent can provide, and please do not assume I am undermining the valuable part they played in Blake’s recovery, Sun not just placidly taking Blake’s crap gives her the reality call that neither Ghira or Kali could have provided. Kali and Ghira gave Blake a home to recover in physically, and Sun gave her the confrontation she needed to confront her past emotionally. Sun was the only person Blake met at Beacon who really could provide that reality check- Weiss would be shot on sight, Ruby would be too pure, Yang too caught up in her own deep-rooted issues. Sun was the only person able to break her walls down and let the light shine on her dark psyche. The mindset that Sun helps her develop is a mindset that Blake carries into her next song, This Time, a duet with Ghira.

This time The ways of the past we'll get over We'll climb Enlighten a new state of mind And now I'll stand with you shoulder to shoulder Out of the ashes a new flame ignite Rise up from shadows and into the light

That lesson that Sun teaches Blake goes on to play a vital role in Volume 5- Blake uses those teachings to reach out to Ilia, to be there for her even though Ilia won’t want her to be there (Blake also spells out in this scene what I spent the past few paragraphs saying- she tried to push Sun out but his refusal forced her to better herself).

And when Blake finishes, Sun just has this quiet, almost proud smile on his face. The student has become the mentor, and Sun’s proud to see Blake stepping up and resolving to help someone like he helped her. After all, you should always get your friends involved.

This guy is a literal ray of sunshine and even if you don’t ship them I hope you can appreciate how well their dynamic works.

3) “It was never about that!”

I hope by this point I’ve made it clear that Sun’s intentions were far from romantic when he followed Blake, and that they were the last thing on his mind when he was on the island with her. Sun’s his usual charming self at a few points but barring an awkwardly hilarious scene with Ghira, Sun never tries to put the moves on Blake during Volumes 4 or 5, unless you want to classify “the moves” as helping beat up on Blake’s abuser.

“All women are queens Adam!”

“If she breathes, she’s a THOT!”

Sun and Blake have a lot of adorably cute moments in the Volume 5 finale as the Battle of Haven winds down. In those above GIFs of Sun saying “My hero!” Look how exasperated Blake is. Now look at her.

Her smile is genuine, it reaches her eyes and her ears perk up. That’s a smile of genuine gratitude. Remember when I told you to keep her stiffness in the V4 GIFs in mind? Still do that, but remember it in this case.

It’s only now after nearly two entire volumes that Sun actually offers a flirtatious line towards Blane- “No promises,” he quips as he rushes off into battle, giving Blake the chance to be the hero and help save her team from Hazel, Emerald and Mercury. He even tugs Blake towards her team after all the fighting has ceased, letting Blake have her chance to finally reconnect with her team- Sun, again, getting friends involved when he can.

This is the most intimate thing Sun instigates all show and he only does it after expressly earning Blake’s trust and admiration. Also dayum Sun you smooth boi

Sun sadly leaves the party in the next episode, since now that he’s helped Blake he has to go help the team he ditched in Mistral. Sun, as Michael put it in a panel pre-Volume 6, pulls his head out of his ass and decides to help his own team. They were fine while he helped Blake, but now that she’s back in the team’s safe hands, Sun needs to sort his own business out. Also he might just hate the cold, not ruling anything out.

You can tell how close Sun and Blake have gotten just by the proximity of which they stand beside each other. When they spoke on the boat in V4 there was a large gap between them, but now they’re almost bumping shoulders.

Blake and Sun’s conversation serves as the capstone of Blake and Sun’s development across Volumes 4 and 5. Sun gently tells Blake that she doesn’t need him now that she’s back with her own team, and Blake is almost... resistant to him going. She’s grown used to Sun’s presence, a far cry from how she was in Volume 4, and part of her isn’t really ready to let go of her friend just yet. Sun obviously is holding a candle, but their conversation ends on a bittersweet note, with both acknowledging that Blake has some baggage to deal with, but Sun is confident that Blake can handle herself with the aid of RWBY. That said, he doesn’t rule out a reunion and another chance to rekindle that spark, confident that they’ll reunite. And Blake...

“Platonic” my ass, Blake’s even doing the Princess Diaries heel-lift!

While leaving Blake at the train to Argus, Neptune weighs in and feels like Sun is letting Blake go. Sun bluntly shoots that down, saying the line “It was never about that.” Because for Sun, it was never about pursuing Blake romantically when he went after her. Sun saw a friend, an ally who he cared for deeply, diving into a well of self-loathing and running off on what he thought was a suicide mission, so he dived in right after her to pry her free from the darkness. Does Sun care for Blake romantically? Without a shadow of a doubt. But Sun did not see a girl wrought with depression and anxiety and saw a romantic conquest, he’s not some shallow blunderhead like some people like to portray him as. Was he insensitive in his not coming forward immediately? Perhaps, but the two have moved on from that incident.

To conclude, Sun is a fundamentally good person, a literal ray of sunshine who saw a friend of his in peril and put his own life on hold to help her. While Sun was likely influenced subconsciously by his crush for Blake, his overriding desire to help a friend in need was the primary motivation- in fact, Sun barely even touches Blake outside of friendly banter scenes. He never has an obvious romantic intent with Blake and only has her best interests at heart. Along with Blake’s parents, he provides a stable foundation for Blake to recover, and she in turn helps him get over the grudge he had with Ilia without him ever realizing it. Sun never seeks to take advantage of Blake in her fraught state of mind and his bond with her is a lifelong commitment to have each other’s backs. Come rain or shine, I know they’ll meet again and it’ll be like these two companions never parted ways to begin with.

Because that’s Sun, at his core; you should always get friends involved, come rain or shine. And when he’s around, you bet he shines.

Thank you for reading.

And of course, never forget the raw glorious power of the gun-chucks.

#rwby #sun wukong #blake belladonna #black sun #eclipse #rwby analysis #ghira belladonna #kali belladonna #adam taurus #ilia amitola #neptune vasilias #blake/sun #sun is such a good character WHY ARE PEOPLE DUNKING ON HIM #like morning follows night #this time #character analysis #rwby volume 6 chapter 1 spoilers

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jordan202 · 6 years

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My Boys: Beyond the Horizon - Chapter 18

Hey guys, here goes the penultimate chapter of this story :) thanks to everyone who’s stuck till this point!

Link to previous chapters is HERE

My Boys: Beyond the Horizon – Chapter Eighteen

JD tried to pay attention as two junior girls did their best to hold his attention with small talk and flattery as the group waited next to a vending machine in the school external patio, but all his eyes could focus on was the way Megan Hunt was nearly smashing something that resembled a label maker as she organized three stacks of paper and properly tagged them using the tool she had.

For some reason, the prospect of teasing her and invariably get into yet another discussion with Megan excited the boy more than listening to two girls shower him with compliments in order to hold his attention. Excusing himself, JD nonchalantly left both juniors behind and walked towards the table Megan was occupying.

The outdoor area was nearly empty at that early hour in the morning, with only a few students hanging back to finish a cup of coffee or chocolate before the first class. It was unusual to see Megan without her parade of best friends and fans all around her, which was also why JD couldn’t let the opportunity pass. He supposed that the people who usually hung out with the girl had already gone to their classrooms whilst she had stayed back, which was uncommon as well considering how she was often one of the first ones to arrive to class, sometimes even twenty minutes before it was set to begin.

As he approached the girl, JD could tell she was tenser than usual, which could explain the way she was violently handling the object in hand. This time around, he couldn’t think of something he might have done to set her off like that, but it was better to be careful anyway.

“Are you trying to label your fingers?” JD smirked as he took the seat in front of her without the need for an invitation. “Because you’re one step away from gluing them to those papers.”

He watched as Megan smashed the object a few times more, properly labeling whatever it was she was organizing before taking a breath and then finally bringing up her eyes to look at him. JD had noticed that organizing things was a way for her to deal with stress and he found it quite amusing.

“What do you want?”

Her dry remark sounded more resentful than he would usually associate with the girl, but JD took it as a wrong impression. After all, nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them over the last few days.

“You’re skipping first period?” he asked with curiosity. It was very much like him to cut class or be late for it, but not Megan.

Since the girl didn’t answer his question, settling instead for resuming her task, JD could only assume he had indeed done something to get to her nerves. He was just having a hard time remembering what exactly.

Megan remained in silence, hoping that her response would make him go away. JD Callaghan, his provocations and the way he was always trying to set her off had already cost her too much. It had been a couple of days and she still didn’t understand why Aaron was so jealous of the guy, considering how much she didn’t like him.

“What is it? You’re unusually quiet today,” he pointed out with a pestering grin. “You’re not going bite me back? Are you sick?” JD asked with a silly smirk, finding her behavior very unusual. “Oh, I know! Did you have a fight with Softie? Is that why you’re acting so weird?”

He noticed he’d hit the right nail on the head when Megan immediately raised her eyes and furiously looked back at him.

“Don’t you dare talk about Aaron,” she demanded.

JD noticed that her reaction seemed exaggerated for the comment he’d just made. The boy had made fun of her boyfriend several times before and even though it had always bothered Megan, reason why he kept doing it, never had it earned such an icy, resentful response.

The teenage boy narrowed his eyes, trying to think through the situation. It was obvious something had happened between Megan and the guy, or else she wouldn’t be so upset. And she seemed especially angry with him, so there was a good chance his name had been involved as well.

Almost instantly, JD thought back about the week before and the teasing in the locker room. He’d heard that after his incident with Megan in the mud, some of the guys in the football team had made fun of their quarterback by insinuating that his girlfriend might be changing offense for defense. Usually, JD would add fuel to the fire but he knew that if he went through with the provocation, it would probably make things worse or even really upset Megan. So he’d asked his teammates to stop, but it was very likely Aaron Cole hadn’t been pleased with the situation from the very beginning.

Some guys had even gone as far as to say that Aaron was jealous of JD because he was a more successful player and got more attention from others.

Yet now, looking at the blue-eyed girl with a thunderous expression on her face and that cute stubborn nose, JD realized that Aaron had to be a damned fool to actually believe he was a runner up at something that really mattered.

It was Aaron who was the lucky one and he had to be an idiot not to know it.

“You know what, why don’t you go back to your girlfriends and leave me alone?” Megan asked, feeling her throat constricted. She’d noticed that both girls who’d been with JD before were sitting on a table across the patio, but wouldn’t stop throwing glances in their direction. Megan didn’t want to deal with him right now because everything he represented and had caused was too confusing and too painful. JD had already cost her relationship with Aaron and that had left her heartbroken. She didn’t need him to cause any more problems.

“You’re being especially sour today, but I know you’re craving my company,” JD flashed a smile, knowing he was provoking her.

Megan saw the way his green eyes sparkled as he smiled and she hated herself for noticing it. JD rarely smiled, for he was always teasing and torturing her. But whenever he did, she couldn’t help but think he had one of the most beautiful smiles she’d ever seen and the realization tormented her, drowning Megan in a spiral of guilt and self shame she didn’t know how to get out of.

“I am craving your company?” she heard herself saying in a bitter tone, one she didn’t remember ever using before. Megan was tired of people accusing her of that. She rejected the idea with every fiber of her being. “You are insufferable! That’s why no one is friends with you,” Megan exploded, irrationally taking out on him all her built up anger and confusing at her unresolved and much too strong feelings. “If even your parents didn’t want you around, why would I?”

The words left her mouth before Megan could think them through, but the moment she heard her voice, the girl instantly regretted having said them.

The shock was stamped on her face and Megan grew paler. It was as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just said, but at the same time the girl was so scandalized that she froze, unable to rectify herself.

“JD, I am sorry, I didn’t…”

“You’re right,” the boy replied as he got up. Megan noticed he didn’t seem furious as she expected him to be, but rather merely disappointed. The realization made her loathe herself and her cruel attitude even more. “I am sorry I bothered you.”

“JD, wait, I didn’t mean to…” Megan tried to follow him, but the minute she left the table, the loud bell announcing the beginning of the first morning term rang, giving Megan no choice other than gathering her things while hoping that JD would show up at music class later that day.

Thomas knocked on the familiar suburban door, anxiously checking his wristwatch. It was very early in the day, but since it was a weekday and the lights on the kitchen were on, he knew people in it were probably up and getting ready for work.

“Tom, hey,” Jo Wilson seemed surprised to find the young man standing on her doorway at eight in the morning but that didn’t prevent her from smiling at his unexpected appearance. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is good,” Thomas replied with a relaxed smile. Jo could tell by the serenity in his eyes that he was doing a lot better than during their last encounters. “I know it’s not exactly the best moment of the day, but is there any chance I can see Kate?”

“She is sleeping in her bedroom, but go ahead and make yourself at home,” Jo cleared the way for him to get inside the house. Thomas had knocked on her door looking for her daughter so many times before in a lifetime that she didn’t feel the need to guide him inside. “Alex and I are leaving for work but she will be happy to see you.”

“Say hi to Dr. Karev for me,” Thomas nodded as Jo Wilson left, glad she wasn’t asking him any questions about why he wasn’t at the hospital performing his duties as an intern like he was supposed to.

Thomas waited on purpose until he heard a car noise leaving the garage and made his way to the upper floor of the house. Very silently, he opened the door to Kate’s childhood bedroom.

The lights were off but from the little he could see, Thomas noticed that just like he remembered, everything was decorated in gentle tones of lavender and white. Next to Kate’s study desk, a pin board was still hanging on the wall, except now it had several more pictures and notes added to it than last time the boy had been there.

And on the opposite end of the room, snuggled between a pillow and a teddy bear Thomas identified as one he’d given her for a random Valentine’s Day, Kate slept peacefully in her old bed.

Unable to contain a smile, Tom approached her, carefully inspecting every detail on her face. Kate was always so energetic and relentless during the day that sometimes he forgot how knocked down by sleep she could get – and how radically her features would change then. Looking at her now, she seemed almost ordinary, but only Thomas could attest how much of a true force of nature the girl could become whenever she set her mind to something. Kate was her own person and she made no apologies for it. And that was one of the reasons why he’d been in love with her forever.

Not really planning what he was doing, Thomas took off his jacket and shoes and joined her in bed, gently sliding on the covers.

A sharp mind drifted between consciousness and sleep as chestnut eyes struggled to open, ultimately remaining wide alert to look back at him.

“I am sorry,” Thomas mumbled against her shoulder as he wrapped one arm around Kate’s waist, being promptly held back. There were probably a thousand ways he could start that conversation but right now, those words seemed the most fitting. “I didn’t get it before but I get it now,” he affirmed, holding her so tightly in his arms almost as if afraid he would lose her again.

Kate ran a hand through the soft locks of his silver blonde hair and smiled with a mix of satisfaction, happiness and love. She had definitely been caught off guard and was still trying to regain all her senses, so the girl couldn’t understand exactly what was going on. But whatever had happened to prompt that change in Thomas, she definitely approved of.

“I know,” she turned her face in the darkness and kissed his forehead longingly, yearning just the same to have him near again.

Thomas stayed in silence for the next minutes, enjoying the soothing touch of her fingertips on his head as Kate caressed his hair. The side of his face was resting on her chest because everything about Kate, from her smell to her warmth was so familiar and just damn amazing that he didn’t want to let go.

“Kate,” Thomas finally gathered the strength to partially raise his head and meet her eyes with his. His voice faltered a bit as he obviously hesitated, but ultimately, the intern finally managed to say it, “I talked to my dad yesterday.”

“Yeah?” Kate smiled positively, instantly picking up that said conversation had probably been the game changer in his behavior. Instead of acting defensively and pushing her away, this time around, Thomas had come looking for her and he was obviously interested in making things work between them again. Moreover, his expression seemed less uptight and in a way, even his smile was more relaxed, reminding her of the same old Thomas who she’d known and loved all her life.

“He’s helped me see things,” Thomas summed up. Reaching out for Kate’s hand, he gave it a squeeze before kissing it and bringing it against his chest. “I am so sorry that you left without me,” he breathed out slowly. Kate knew he was talking about her trip to Europe. “But I couldn’t go with you.”

Kate noticed that at the moment he spoke the words, a single tear started to form in his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know,” she said, taking both hands to the sides of his face and gently stroking his hair. “I know that…”

“I wrote you an email every day,” Thomas confessed, feeling a clog forming in his throat when confronted with her understanding. He wasn’t lying, he had indeed written a bunch of emails. “But I never sent them.”

Kate frowned, processing the information.

“Why didn’t you?”

Thomas slowly got up, sitting on the bed against the bedframe as Kate did the same. He needed to take a couple of deep breaths before continuing with his explanation.

“I don’t know, Katie… I guess… I guess I thought you were maybe doing too well without me and I wasn’t,” he finally met her eyes again. “I wasn’t doing well at all alone in Boston, but then I got your emails and your postcards and I thought… Well, maybe you are good without me,” he shrugged, confused. “Perhaps, even better? I don’t know…” Thomas shook his head, still confused. “And I think I was so mad at you for so long because of that that I failed to notice the obvious, you see?”

“I was a mess, Tommy,” Kate shared, amused with his adorable awkwardness. “I cried every day of the trip for the first two weeks,” she confessed. “Once in Amsterdam, I actually had to leave a pub because I saw a guy playing the bass guitar and he reminded me too much of you,” she shared with a smile, happy that she could laugh about it now.

“Then why did you stay there?” Thomas asked her, holding her hand with loyalty. He didn’t want to imagine Kate crying every night, longing to be home. They had been through a tough time but never for a moment had it been about their relationship. The two of them had always been fine but when their careers had mixed with some traumatizing personal events, Thomas and Kate had taken different views on how to deal with a turning point and that had caused a split. But they had never officially broken up, which had made their separation even more complicated and difficult to deal with. “Why didn’t you come back?”

“Because I felt like I needed to survive on my own first,” Kate informed him with caring eyes, knowing that while for Thomas that could be a difficult concept to grasp, for her it made more sense. “And you did too. We needed to be fine on our own first.”

Thomas smiled sheepishly, chucking her under the chin to make Kate look back at him.

“Are you saying that because everyone is always nagging us about how we pretty much never dated other people, we…”

“No,” Kate interrupted him with lighthearted contentment. “Not because of other people,” she corrected him. “Because of us. Tom, think about it,” she proposed. “We are together all the time,” Kate pointed out. “There were times I was finding it hard to figure out who I was and what parts of me were really just an extension of you,” she teased, watching him smile because it was obvious he felt the same way. Over the years, their individuality had fallen to the background because everything had slowly turned out to be about them as a couple. “I think no matter how painful this whole experience was, it ultimately served to remind us that we are not two halves of something but rather a single individual and that we can, and should have different responses to things if we want to,” she explained. “But what it showed to me is that regardless of how differently we might see things sometimes, it doesn’t mean that we don’t want to be with each other.”

“We can be fine on our own,” Thomas smiled, making sense of her point. He agreed entirely with what Kate was saying. “We just don’t have to,” he leaned over and touched her forehead with his.

“Well, I don’t want to,” Kate wrapped her arms around his neck as she climbed on his lap. “But it’s good to know that I can.”

Thomas laughed with enchantment and pulled her closer, finally kissing her lips to seal their newest agreement. It made perfect sense that they could live life without one another while simply choosing not to.

After that, he went on to explain to Kate the arrangement he’d made with his father. After agreeing to stick to the hours of his contract and not extend his workload any longer by staying extra time, even in the moments when the opportunity might seem incredible, Thomas shared that Owen had also set up a weekly meeting for him with a medical counsel who would guide him as he got his life back on track.

Once he was done giving his testimonial, Thomas noticed that Kate bit her bottom lip nervously, as if unsure whether or not to share something of her own.

“So, as you can see, I have it all figure out now,” Thomas playfully exaggerated as he played with her fingers between his. The fact he was making jokes about it showed how at ease he was with the new turn things had taken and Kate loved seeing it.

“Yeah, about that…” the girl hesitated, clearly not as comfortable or decided about that aspect of her life as she was about mostly everything else.

“What is it?” Thomas asked gently, rubbing her back in support.

“I know I have postponed my residency, but I am not sure I want to start the surgical program next year,” Kate confessed, looking at him almost as if apologizing. She didn’t notice she avoided his gaze and looked down as she continued, “I was thinking and maybe I…”

“You want to apply to a different program, don’t you?” Thomas read her with an understanding smile. “Dermatology, is it?”

Kate looked appalled.

“How do you know?” she asked, torn between relief and shock.

Thomas chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose.

“I’ve known you all my life,” he pointed out. “I was there with you while we were getting our education. I think I can safely say I have a good grasp on what makes you happy,” he explained understandingly. “I think surgery isn’t one of those things.”

It was clear on Thomas’ tone that he didn’t mind it one bit and Kate picked up on it too.

“Katie, the idea of you choosing your own medical specialty seems perfectly reasonable to me. I know we made plans all our life to become surgeons, but plans change, we saw that. You don’t have to be worried about disappointing me,” he looked into her eyes, knowing that even though Kate hadn’t said it, she was probably bothered with the idea. He hoped that since they’d already covered him, they were finally getting to the bottom of what had been bothering her too for the last few months. “And now that we’ve made it clear it clear I won’t love you any less if you become a dermatologist,” he teased her, nudging his nose against her face. Kate could foresee the many jokes and teasing remarks that would invariably come for the rest of her life if she chose that specialty. “I think it’s time that youare comfortable with discarding surgery from your life too,” Thomas wisely added, pulling her in for quiet, comforting hug that was truly all the support Kate needed to go on with her decision.

When music class began, Megan was anxiously waiting at her seat hoping that JD wouldn’t skip it. She wanted to apologize for the uncalled cruel attack in his direction earlier that morning, which had only served to make the girl feel even worse about herself.

As Megan tried to get her feelings in order, she watched as the boy at last arrived and took his usual seat opposite to her. She expected JD to be mad, or even to plainly ignore her, making it more difficult for the girl to reach out to him. But to her surprise, he treated her with courteous simplicity throughout the period, asking Megan to please pass him the folder with the music sheets as Mrs. Julian happily explained a few notes using a whiteboard and then even thanked her when Megan picked from the floor the pencil he’d accidentally dropped as they were gathering their stuff to leave.

More perplexed than ever, the girl tried to study his expression but JD’s closed off façade reminded her of the way he used to act when they’d first met. It was as if he had distanced himself from the world and nothing could get to him anymore.

What Megan had said about his parents rejecting him had been a cruel, absolutely dreadful attack and she knew it. Especially because the girl had no idea why JD had really been sent to live with his grandma in the first place. The mere idea of her own parents rejecting her made Megan sick to her stomach and she hated herself for using something about JD’s past against him, especially when she didn’t even know what was true or not. The notion that his current behavior, shutting down again in what felt like a step back might have everything to do with him being hurt by her words filled Megan with shame.

“Are you okay?”

His question was Megan’s undoing and for a moment, she forgot about the other students who were on a hurry to leave the classroom or even about the teacher, who was still picking up her things from her desk.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Megan had to bit her lower lip to control her emotions. She had never felt guiltier in her life than she did now. “I was horrible to you. I don’t deserve it.”

JD seemed surprised by her question, but not really affected. He shrugged with disregard before simply stating as he put the guitar he’d used back in its place.

“I am not being nice to you,” he explained. JD was doing his best to keep it civil but he had stopped trying to hold a conversation with Megan, or even pester her anymore. “I am pretty sure you said what you said in an attempt to get to me,” he made eye contact with her as he spoke. “But it doesn’t mean that it is any less true,” JD added. He admired the fact that Megan spoke her mind, unlike most people. At least she was honest, so he had to respect that. No matter how awful the truth was. “So I am respecting your wishes and from now on, I won’t bother you anymore.”

At that point, everyone else had left the classroom and Megan found herself alone with the boy.

“Surely you don’t believe that,” she blocked the way, stopping him from exiting. “It’s not true, really!” Megan insisted, watching as he tried to go around her to get to the door. “I didn’t mean what I said! You can’t honestly think it’s true,” Megan’s breathing got heavier as she grew horrified with the idea of him actually believing it.

JD stopped at his tracks and looked deeply into her eyes, studying her expression. He was starting to believe that his demise bothered Megan more than it bothered him, but he didn’t want to fool himself into once again think she was actually any different from anyone else he’d ever met.

“Why do you care, anyway,” JD shook his head, too fed up with everyone to have any energy to deal with it. “Please, get out of the way, I don’t want to push you,” he added unable to disguise his irritation.

Megan stood up to the guy, frantically trying to make him listen and most of all, believe her.

“JD,” she held him by the arm when he tried to go around her. “You have to believe me,” Megan insisted. “I don’t mean what I said.”

The boy hesitated for a moment, but took a deep breath, regaining control.

“Which part?”

His question surprised Megan and she frowned, visibly confused with his unexpected comeback. The girl had spoken about his parents not wanting him around and then about herself sharing the same desire. It was very important for JD to know which part exactly she hadn’t meant.

“What do you mean, which part?” the girl tried to process what he was saying. “Any of it, I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

JD studied her blue eyes, defensively looking for hints of why he shouldn’t trust her or believe anything she was saying. But Megan seemed honest and the realization bothered and infuriated him because it would just be easier to hate her than to process what he was feeling right now.

“Yes, you are right, Megan, they didn’t want me around,” JD furiously hissed, building every wall around his heart that Megan had somehow managed to overcome without him knowing. “Is that what you wanted to know? That my father kicked me out after my mother died because he couldn’t stand me? Is that what you meant? Because like always, you were right, Miss Perfect,” JD’s jaw was clenched as he looked at Megan with so much built up anger and hurt that for a moment she was actually afraid he might say or do something irreversibly stupid. “But you know what, that’s fine. I am fine. I am through with him. I can live with that, alright?” the boy glared at her, hating to feel so vulnerable at her every movement. JD had long before decided not to let anyone else have this kind of power over him but before he could control or contain it, Megan Hunt had developed the ability to hurt his feelings and the notion infuriated him. He didn’t even know how she had managed to do it, but there the girl was, getting under his skin. “But don’t bullshit me, okay? Not you,” he looked deeply into her eyes, leaning over the girl with an intimidating glance that only made Megan realize the full extent of his pain. “Don’t come to me saying one thing and then say you didn’t mean any of it just because you have a guilty conscience,” JD pushed it, firing every word. “It only makes me lose my respect for your honesty. I don’t want and I don’t need your pity,” he looked deeply into her eyes, watching as Megan was shocked with each word that left his mouth.

The girl’s face showed just how shocked she was. Megan felt her heart aching in her chest, hating that she had so many times been so horrible to him. His entire behavior made so much more sense now… How he kept everyone at a safe distance, the way he pushed people away the moment they got too close. Megan had once called him a cliché and yet she had been the one who’d failed to see the obvious.

“I didn’t know that,” Megan kept on trying to make him stay, knowing that the more she pushed it, the more he would probably get angry and snap. “I didn’t know about your dad or your mom… I am so sorry,” the girl added.

JD shook his head, as if disregarding her words.

“Yeah, like I said, I don’t need your pity,” he scowled and forcefully got out of her grasp, walking into the hallway despite Megan’s attempts to make him stay.

It felt like her heart was breaking in tiny pieces when Megan lost control over the situation and had to watch him walk away, knowing that there was a big chance he might never speak to her again. The notion devastated her. JD was annoying and frustrating, but Megan had just found out how much she really cared about him.

The boy was already half way through the corridor when muffled sobs reached his ears.

Usually, the sound of a girl crying wasn’t enough to invoke any feeling in him other than annoyance mixed with impatience. But strangely enough, despite his best effort to think Megan’s display of emotion was fake, JD couldn’t believe it in his heart that she was actually making a scene or pretending to feel something she didn’t, especially when she had no idea she could be heard.

Megan was still curled up on her seat with her face buried between her legs trying to contain the sound of her cries when she felt a warm hand rubbing her back in a soothing caress. When the girl brought her face up, it was with shock that she found intense green eyes staring back at her.

“Don’t cry,” JD pleaded, feeling his heart constrict by the sight of her face drowning in tears. Seeing her hurting affected him more than he thought it ever could. “You can call me names and tell me to go to go hell or whatever but please, just don’t cry.”

Megan slowly raised her head and noticed he had his eyes closed as he said the words, in an attempt to get control of his emotions. Once again, they had had a big fight, possibly the worst one they’d ever had and even though she was the one to blame and the one who’d said the most hurtful things, it was JD who was trying to comfort her.

Grabbing his hand to stop him from walking away again in the eventuality he might try, Megan decided to ignore all her confusion and opened her heart.

“I was very angry with you when I said all those horrible things, but it had nothing do with you,” she confessed, using her free hand to dry her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. Truth is… Aaron dumped me,” the girl tilted her head to the side and shrugged, helpless in face of the situation. “And I blamed you for it because he blamed you for it,” Megan tried to make sense of things. “It was wrong of me and I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have let you get to my head again. You didn’t deserve it. I am sorry.”

JD nodded his head, accepting her apology but it was the content of her confession that caught his attention the most, rather than the apology.

“I am sorry that he gave you up,” JD smiled, using his knuckles to wipe a remaining tear from her face. When Megan stared back at him with those big blue eyes that resembled two moons, he smiled with amusement. “I always thought he was too insecure for you, anyway,” the boy teased out of habit and because he didn’t know how else to deal with the impending avalanche of emotions that followed the information Megan had just shared. “I’ll tell you what… If you’re okay with my company now, I will consider buying you ice cream.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Megan censored him, still feeling horrible about what she’d said, even though she had already clarified she hadn’t meant it.

“You also have to do something about that face because you look horrible,” JD smirked, much more comfortable with teasing and provoking her, especially now that she was slowly getting back to acting like herself once he’d criticized her appearance. “I don’t want to be seen around you if you look like that,” JD added, putting both hands inside his jacket pockets while throwing Megan a side glance to hide his smile.

“You’re an asshole,” Megan decided, smoothing her hair in an attempt to fix her looks. “It’s me who should be buying you ice cream, you know, Justin, because since you have no friends, you…”

“Shut up,” JD interrupted her with a chuckle.

He waited until the girl gathered her things and then finally opened the door to what he hoped wasn’t only the exit to the music classroom, but also the start of a better relationship with Megan.

Emily felt the first thin droplets of the rain hitting her face and wrapped her coat tightly around her body. The cold weather in November wasn’t unusual in Seattle, but something about the open field next to the Stadium area made it seem like the wind was chillier than ever.

Or maybe the way she was shivering had more to do with the conversation she was about to have than with the air temperature.

When Lucas left the training area inside the stadium towards the parking lot, he immediately noticed the short woman standing next to his car. His teammates kept talking about their upcoming match on the weekend, but Lucas wasn’t listening to them anymore. His eyes were focused on the auburn haired girl who looked more adorable than ever nearly disappearing beneath a caramel cashmere scarf and an elegant knitted hat.

After saying goodbye to the other athletes, Lucas went in her direction, noticing how she rubbed her gloved hands together after blowing on them, trying to get warm. There had to be a reason why Emily was waiting for him outside and with one peek, he could figure out why.

Next to her, he saw on the floor a small carry-on wheeled piece of luggage and a matching handbag. It was obvious she was going somewhere and Lucas didn’t have to think very hard to know where.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” he finally stopped walking in her direction and stood a few feet away from the journalist, facing her. Despite his serious tone, Lucas’ expression was friendly.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to apologize for what I did.”

“I know,” Emily repeated, this time with an apologetic nod. For the past couple of days, ever since Lucas’ childish discussion with Peter in her mother’s house she had been ignoring his attempts to get in touch with her. Her ex-fiancé had left to New York just hours after the incident, but it wasn’t until today that Emily was finally going back to the city too. “I am sorry I didn’t call you back.”

“What’s changed?” Lucas asked, looking from the depth of her eyes to the bags and then to the girl again.

Emily seemed hesitant and even a little guilty before she opened her mouth to explain.

“I came to say goodbye.”

It wasn’t all there was to it and Emily knew it. Truth was, if she’d allowed herself to answer one of Lucas’ calls or even agree to see him before she left, she wasn’t so sure anymore that she’d go on with her resolution to leave with such determination, or at least so much certainty.

The journalist was still very angry at the way Lucas had discussed with Peter, and even more upset at how he’d spoken about their first time together as if using that to compete with the guy. But after cooling her head and processing the whole situation, Emily couldn’t help but realize that it hadn’t been until Peter had wrongfully given the impression they had spent the night together that Lucas had turned into a dick.

Lucas had expressed his desire that Emily didn’t leave, but she knew that even though his intentions were the best, there were simply no guarantees about anything. The only thing concrete was that he was experiencing amazing success playing for his childhood team, the one he’d always dreamed of playing for, whilst Emily’s source of stability and solidness remained in New York, the place where she had a steady job and a career of her own. Other than that, every other line was too blurry to risk anything.

And yet, Lucas still didn’t know that she had called off her engagement. Even though she had her mind made up about leaving, Emily wanted to be good terms with him and hopefully keep in touch if possible. And she also couldn’t get herself to leave Seattle, quite possibly for good this time around, without so much as saying goodbye.

Judging by the look on his face, the confession that she’d come to say goodbye seemed to hit him pretty hard and the realization made Emily want to give in to tears.

“I am so proud of you,” she heard her own voice and involuntarily reached for his hand, grasping it between hers with a mix of affection and joy. Lucas saw through the tears that were now building up on her eyes, but it was her genuine smile that touched him the most. “You’ve made it so far and I….” Emily’s voice faltered as she embraced his hand against her chest, sniffing soundly. “I never doubted you would,” the girl raised her hazel eyes to meet his and smiled between tears. “I always knew.”

Lucas noticed how much she was struggling. The context they were in was so bittersweet that it made his heart pound inside his chest. That moment felt too much like a goodbye and in as much as he hated to think it might be the last time he would see Emily, he couldn’t help but feel touched by the meaning of what she was saying.

Emily had always believed in him. When very few people had… when he himself hadn’t. Back when they were seventeen, with all her strength and bright light, Emily had made Lucas discover his own worth and believe that he could take control of his life. As a result, he’d followed his dreams and five years later there he was living the life he’d always thought about having.

Except Emily wasn’t in it.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself, you know,” Lucas couldn’t contain a smile and teased her when Emily gave in to tears and hid her face on his chest. He wrapped both arms around her tightly before whispering against the soft fabric of her knitted hat. “The exception is that no one is surprised,” he added with a mischievous voice.

“Don’t berate yourself,” Emily censored him disapprovingly.

“Don’t use words like berate,” Lucas replied in a lighthearted tone, smiling with affection at how clearly emotional she was. It was obvious Emily was having a hard time leaving, but he didn’t plan to make it any easier for her.

The sound of her sheepish laughter filled his heart with love and Lucas took both his hands to the sides of her face, rubbing her cheeks with his thumbs as he gently forced eye contact with the girl.

“I am sorry about what I said to your fiancé,” he said to his dismay. Lucas hated relinquishing Emily, but he also didn’t want her to stay if she wanted to be with another guy. As painful as it was, he would just have to learn to deal with the rejection. “I didn’t mean to be such an asshole.”

“You were ridiculous,” Emily rolled her eyes, thinking back about his childish demeanor. Even though Lucas had done something as scandalous as saying to her ex-fiancé that he had been the first guy in her life in the middle of what should have been a civil conversation, the fact he’d pulled that stunt also didn’t surprise her. “And Peter is not my fiancé anymore,” she finally confessed. “I called off my engagement.”

Lucas took in the information, waiting for her to say something more while he analyzed whether or not he’d heard it correctly.

“You’re not marrying that guy anymore?” he asked with a frown, trying to process what it meant not just for Emily, but for them as well. “What happened?”

Emily seemed to read his mind because she splayed both hands on his chest and looked deeply into his eyes.

“I realized so many things,” she smiled between tears. “It feels as if… As if once again, you walked into my life and you helped me see the light,” the journalist closed her eyes with force, struggling not to give into tears. “I wasn’t happy and when you asked me that question, it really made me think and find out the truth.”

Lucas smoothed a few loose locks of hair from her face and placed them behind her shoulder.

“And now you are?” he asked with genuine interest. “Now you’re happy?”

“I am trying to be,” Emily nodded, determined to chase that resolution. “It feels like I am getting there, anyway… I am trying to figure out what to do and the first thing was cutting out of my life the things that are notmaking me happy,” she explained. “My engagement was one of them. Now I have to get back to the job I love and have stability in my career again,” the journalist added. The uncertainty of not having a steady job was really unsettling for her and knowing about her background and the family she had been raised in, Lucas could easily guess why.

“Don’t leave,” the athlete wrapped both his arms around her waist, desperately trying to get her to stay. “I know you have a job and I know it might feel like I am asking for too much, but don’t go… We can be happy here. We should be together,” he tried to convince her. “It’s you and I, Emily. It has always been,” Lucas reminded her. Through all the ups and downs, they always found themselves in the same place. “You can go back and forth all you want but you’re always going to end up right here,” Lucas smiled with his eyes closed as he touched his forehead to hers. “And we can figure out together what your happy means.”

Emily sniffed, genuinely torn. God, why did it have to be so hard… so damn near impossible?

On one hand, there was stability, the prospect of going back to a job she really loved and the safety of an apartment she had made for herself. On another, there was the risk of staying and giving up everything that was certain for the prospect of being happy with Lucas.

And even though being happy with him represented and was worth a whole lot more to Emily than everything else combined, it was exactly the risk of it all that scared the hell out of her. Sometimes it was better to have what was certain than to risk everything and end up with nothing at all. Life had taught her that the hardest of ways.

“You have made me so happy already,” Emily smiled and touched the side of his face, rubbing it affectionately. It was true. No one had made her happier in a lifetime. “I love you. I have always loved you and I always will,” the girl noticed how Lucas’ eyes sparkled with her confession. He was right. It didn’t matter how much she avoided it or tried to deny it. He was the one and probably would always be. Even if they weren’t meant to be together. Unable to help herself, Emily stood on the tip of her toes and kissed him on the lips longingly. “But I can’t stay.”

When she pulled apart, Lucas searched in her eyes for an answer but found only heartbreak and something that resembled regret. Emily had always been rational, too much for her own good. Sometimes, it was better not to think about things but rather just to feel them.

Encouraged by that thought, Lucas once again rubbed his lips against hers in what began as a gentle caress but quickly became a deep kiss as soon as Emily relaxed in his arms. He felt the tight grasp of her hands around his neck as Emily stood on the tip of her toes to mold her body to his when Lucas pulled her against him.

Emily knew that letting Lucas kiss her like that wasn’t a good idea and would probably only make it harder for her to leave. But how on Earth was she supposed to resist it when all she wanted was to kiss him back with the same passion?

And God, how long had it been since all her senses had been ignited like that? One kiss… that was all it had taken… Just one kiss and it felt like Emily had found her happy place again.

The thin droplets of rain slowly became thicker and before they had the time to make sense of things, a heavy shower was pouring on their heads. Lucas looked around and noticed most cars in the parking lot had already left, which meant they’d been there for a while now.

“I am not going back to New York because of my job,” Emily affirmed with conviction as she reluctantly pulled apart. She hoped that he at least knew that much. Maybe someday she would be able to reconsider turning her life around but right now, she needed the stability she could only find back in the city she had built her life in. It was getting late and she should probably get going to the airport if she didn’t want to miss her flight. They were soaking wet now and her teeth were chattering from the cold. “I hope you know that.”

“I am not sure I am in any condition to rightfully think through anything right now,” Lucas confessed honestly, running a hand through his hair with frustration, noticing how wet he was.

He wanted very much to believe Emily and he supposed deep down he did, but it just hurt so much to accept that she wasn’t going to stay that Lucas had to hold onto to some kind of excuse not feel like he was really being left behind.

“And I didn’t sleep with Peter.”

At her random confession, Lucas raised his head, making eye contact with the girl. Emily read the question on his face and explained.

“I know it’s not relevant for my decision to leave but…” Emily hesitated, embarrassed. “I just thought you should know that.”

Even though he was still devastated about her inevitable departure, Lucas was very satisfied to learn that Emily hadn’t spent the night in her ex-fiancé’s arms. Like he’d suspected and hoped, ever since they’d reconnected, their feelings had come to surface and just like him, she probably hadn’t felt the desire to be with anyone else ever since.

“You know, I don’t get it,” Lucas said as he watched Emily hailing a cab on the street next to them. As the first yellow cab pulled over, the journalist stacked her luggage inside of it, making Lucas’ heart shatter all over again when he realized it really was goodbye. “You said you broke things off with that guy but you’re going to New York anyway… And I know you have a life there and it is a lot more than just him,” Lucas explained, nodding his head in denial. A mix of jealousy, disappointment and heartbreak was getting the best of him but it was the lack of control over the situation that really made him feel powerless and deeply hurt. “After everything we’ve been through this past couple of months… It just feels like you are choosing him,” Lucas added, hating himself for thinking that since Emily was going back to the same city as the guy, he was going to have the chance to maybe reconnect with her while Lucas was getting left behind.

“I am not choosing him, Luke,” Emily affirmed with conviction before she kissed him on the lips one more time and got into a cab to finally board a plane to New York. Her eyes were still filled with tears and apprehension when she added with the fierce determination that was so typical of her. “I am choosing me.”

If you want to torture yourself, this is the song that put me in the vibe to write the last scene.

#omelia #myboys #myboysfanfiction #omeliafics #omelia fanfics #omeliafic #amenff

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nightcoremoon · 6 years

Text

Callout post: me

lying, manipulative, hold grudges, constantly paranoid, would absolutely 100% check out a teenager if nobody was looking because "it's a harmless crime", liar, cycle through idealization and devaluation, 'sick of fat people trying to be the next civil rights issue and making it that much harder to get civil rights for people who are ACTUALLY oppressed like gee idk poc and muslims and the mentally ill and queer people', frequently fantasizes about committing violent acts against people I rationalize they deserve it including family members, untruthful, attention whore, pedantic AND pretentious, tells lies, doesn't believe in one sister's claim of sexual assault (went to smoke weed with the alleged perpetrator), UNAPOLOGETICALLY AGAINST ASEXUAL EXCLUSIONISM (LITERALLY FUCK YOU DUMBASS FOURTEEN YEAR OLDS WHO SHRIEK THAT QUEER IS A SLUR, SHUT YOUR GODDAM FUCKING WHORE MOUTHS YOU DUMBASSES AND GO THE FUCK OUTSIDE OR READ A BOOK), would absolutely punch a child over an insignificant internet argument, secretly sought out sexual pleasure from two friendly seemingly platonic encounters with two girls I just met within twenty four hours, overreacts to the slightest provocations and has bitches at or vagueposted at several people who did not deserve it, has used mental illness and physical handicap to evade trouble from being late for work because video games and laziness and excessive sleep, has spent maybe a thousand dollars on fast food in 2018 alone, evades bills for medical care from an actually great clinic, lying sack of garbage, gave up on calling out family's bigotry and is now an accessory to prejudice, despises terfs predominantly for their refusal to fuck me because of being trans and yet meanwhile would not engage in sexual relationship with another trans woman or cis man unless reeeeeeeeally drunk, can and will blame being sexually assaulted as a child which probably didn't even happen because I don't think I remember it, unabashed furry, probably as addicted to video games and masturbation AND LIES as I almost was to alcohol, pretended to have almost been an alcoholic just to "win" facebook arguments about addiction, doesn't give a fuck my dad almost died from heroin JUST because he's a *little* homophobic and racist and classist and xenophobic because of a christian upbringing, would literally fucking murder him if he EVER PUTS HIS HANDS ON ME AGAIN, only slightly depressed because of laziness and a lack of drive and ungrateful to my family because hey they didn't kick me out for being trans so HEY THATS SUPPORTIVE ENOUGH FOR SOME OTHER PEOPLE SO WHY CANT I BE HAPPY WITH THAT, legitimately salty about ~the friendzone~ and just makes fun of incels because everybody else does, takes the moral high ground for not being a misogynist even though I don't deserve a pat on the back a lap dance and a blowjob for not hating women, overly sensitive about stupid things, thinking about faking having a trigger warning for more discourse credit, HUUUGE ASSHOLE to men I deem unattractive for no other reason than every single ugly fat guy I've ever met has been an asshole, rationalizes it after the fact because they eventually say something shitty because all men are terrible, probably a little bit of a cisnormative misandrist because trans men tend to be much better people, finds trans men attractive (specifically and significantly more so than cis men) so must clearly be fetishizing them, relatively okay with people referring to me as deadnamed and the wrong pronouns so probably just lying about being trans to everyone including myself, not 100% okay with the hijab for 'no reason other than all organized religion is evil and opposed to its mandate and the shame it forces on many women in many situations the exact same way I'm opposed to no sex before marriage and wives being subservient to their husbands and treating women as property in the torah and quran alike because ITS ALL BRAINWASHING' so is clearly not unlearning islamophobia and doesn't want to let that go, hypocrite because I believe in the basics of judeochristianity

and loathe atheism and atheists entirely because their smugness and smarm literally sets my blood pressure through the roof of what is safe and normal and yet claim to hate all organized religion, mansplains yet gets so pissed off when other people mansplain to me, judgmental of other cultures because they don't have the exact same values that I have, james gunn apologist, talks and talks and talks about anarchosocialism all damn day but would beat the shit out of a coworker for leaving me to do things because they're lazy because "any job worth doing is worth doing well" and other capitalismisms, literally couldn't give less of a fuck that his mother is dying because people die but it's no reason to make my life slightly harder and making me work hard when I work because BOO HOO MY LEGS HURT FROM THE LITERALLY MOST MILD CASE OF MUSCULAR DYSTROPHY I COULD'VE BEEN BORN WITH, hasn't actually performed real suicide attempt ever but still claims to have done so to attain sympathy that may result in physical affection, countless other shitty terrible things that yeah I recognize are bad but CANT SEEM TO CARE BECAUSE I HAVE DEPRESSION... WHICH IS THE WEAKEST FUCKING EXCUSE IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE GODDAMN WORLD

I am not a good person, okay?

I just pretend to be sometimes.

I'm sick of doing it, I'm sick of trying to do well and earn people's approval by doing and saying the right things only to just be ignored which is a step up from receiving many anons that hey, never actually told me to kill myself, but did take my words out of context to paint me as a racist. I am not the kind of racist who would vote for trump and march with the kkk. that is one of very few good things I can say about myself. but I'm an arrogant, violent, and angry opinionated perverted manipulative judgmental lying asshole. I'm not a good person. I have let myself fall so much and I deserve to be alone. my only connections to people were built on personal gain and I swear to myself that I do love them but those feelings fall away in direct correlation to how much they interact with me. I could love you to the point of obsession and stalking and one month later be completely and totally disinterested. I'm a bigot who pretends to not be bigoted and just parrots what other people say not because I believe it but because it's the right thing to say, and I only say what the right thing is to say because whenever I say a good thing something good will happen to me and if I say a bad thing something bad happens to me. it's all just self preservation, nothing else at all. but now I'm at the end of a road of just trying to do good and I'm alone. out of the only two friends that I can really say that I have left, one is far away and trapped in a guilt spiral that I caused by being too clingy, and the other has been behaving in a way my mind has decoded as defensive around me which makes sense as I have been very... the best way to describe it would be the way a dudebro incel interacts with any person who possesses a vagina/breasts but sneakier. in both relationships I've pushed my own wants and desires in extremis... I can't for the life of me recall the last time I have ever offered something in return other than my own company or paying for a meal at a restaurant or I guess transportation. and instead of sex I just want them to express even the slightest bit of intimate platonic physical affection towards me but that's still a lot to offer someone who has clearly expressed the existence of a sexual and maybe something near the realms of romantic in one of the cases physical attraction because for this aspec it's practically the same fucking thing.

and I've manipulated them to attain this goal. at this point my shit brain has considered just fucking going to town on my wrists with a razor blade to draw sympathy so that I'll get a hug or something beyond just a simply hello/goodbye, and finding a way to induce tears to concoct a sob story to reach the same end result, and one time very briefly via threat and intimidation so you can clearly see that I've gone far too into irredeemable territory. I've been playing and replaying cry of fear because it's just too similar to my own issues and the first ending where he just kills everyone he loves and then himself... I see me in that ending. and it scares me so much more than the sprinting screaming twitching one hit kill chainsaw guy ever will. I don't want that to be me, I want to change something, but I just can't get the help that I need. I had hoped to go for a domino effect, where if I could be cuddled for like five minutes or something, I'd have the energy to be more hygienic, which would make me feel capable enough to take on two jobs, which would get me the cash flow I need to pay my bills and take care of my hormones, which would put me in the headspace necessary to effectively use psychological help, which would let me get over my illnesses and actually become a more successful person instead of the pathetic husk I am here in non-fantasy land.

but that won't happen.

I'm just sitting here in the dark angsting about how nobody will touch me in a way that would produce oxytocin, and it's making me so sick, so physically sick, that it's affecting my brain too. I'm in pain, nauseous, vengeful, spiteful, paranoid, judgmental, and lonely. I'm stuck and I can't even kill myself because my mind wants me to stay alive and suffer through all of this because "oh it gets better" people have been saying that for well over half of my life. I was six or seven years old when I asked my mother to kill me, and that same level of desperation and bitterness has only gotten worse as time goes by. when does it get better? I'll tell you when it gets better, after I'm in prison or comatose or forty five years old with a cane and bad eyes and high blood pressure and lung cancer from all the secondhand smoke I've breathed in my life. when my life is over, that's when it gets better. I DONT WANT THAT. I WANT A NORMAL FUCKING LIFE RIGHT NOW. I WANT NORMAL FRIENDSHIPS AND A NORMAL HOME AND A NORMAL EDUCATION AND A NORMAL CAREER AND A NORMAL FAMILY. or at least I want someone to hold me and make me feel like I'm not so horrible and broken that I can't be touched.

but that's too much to ask for.

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littlepurinsesu · 7 years

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In Regards to Pirozhki: For You

Title: In Regards to Pirozhki: For You Fandom: Yuri on Ice Characters: Yuri Plisetsky, Yuuri Katsuki, Victor Nikiforov Relationships: Yuri Plisetsky & Yuuri Katsuki, Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Swearing

*Read on AO3*

Summary: It's not every day that Yuri Plisetsky comforts sad figure skaters and casually offers them a bag of his favourite food. But if it's for a certain pork cutlet bowl, he's willing to give it a try.

Author’s Notes: This is a direct continuation of In Regards to Hugs: No. (The two were originally intended to be one fic, but the hug scene got so long that I decided to split them into two separate parts.) Both can be read as complete standalone pieces, but I do recommend reading In Regards to Hugs first for better context and buildup! I had a lot more creative freedom with this one because of how little detail we were given in the anime, and I hope I managed to do my favourite Yuuri & Yurio moment justice! Yurio is an absolute sweetheart and I will protect that smile to the ends of the earth.

There were a few things that Yuri Plisetsky did not like. Quite a few, actually.

The long list included but was not limited to: being randomly attacked with unwanted hugs, searching for people in the snow at night, and having to fuss and fret over lonely idiots who were in desperate need of love.

And yet, in the span of one eventful night, the Rostelecom Cup fourth-placer had managed to put Yuri through all three. Yuri was disgusted, impatient, and worried, and he couldn’t wait to find that stupid pork cutlet bowl so that he could put an end to both of their miseries.

Fuck my life, how did it come to this? Since when was Katsudon’s misery my misery as well?

Flakes of snow fluttered delicately in the icy air, dancing in a colourful harmony with the illumination of various traffic lights and street lamps. There was an occasional flash of brightness when a car zoomed past, and the trees swayed gently in the chilly breeze, sprinkled with the shimmering whiteness of their winter garments. Yuri trudged on, a bag of pirozhki in his hand and a frown on his face as he continued to search.

The Japanese skater couldn’t have gone very far in this unfamiliar city, and Yuri could only rely on his instincts to guide him to the person he needed to find. And he needed to find him as quickly as possible. The idiot could have gotten himself into danger after dark in a place he couldn’t navigate well. His troubled mindset might even cause him to do reckless things that could jeopardise his wellbeing. Or he might have gotten lost somewhere, doomed to freeze or starve to death if someone did not come for him.

Needless to say, Yuri Plisetsky was starting to freak out, so he was beyond relieved when he finally saw it.

A figure wrapped in a thick brown coat, leaning weakly against the railings as he stared off blankly at the emptying road. With his glasses in front of his eyes and a surgical mask over his nose and mouth, Yuuri Katsuki’s face was almost completely concealed. Yet there was no mistaking the slouched physique and downcast eyes as he stood, brooding over something that Yuri had a pretty good idea of.

The sight made Yuri’s heart clench a little, enough so that he almost chided himself for not having returned the pork cutlet bowl’s impulsive hug earlier on. If he had, maybe Yuuri wouldn’t be like this right now. Sure, he wasn’t Victor, but perhaps he could have made just a tiny bit of difference if he hadn’t been so defensive back then. Yuri had never been much of a hugger himself, but given how crestfallen and lonely the Japanese skater looked, he might—keyword being might—have been willing to give him a tiny cuddle if the idiot had just asked and explained himself rather than stalking around and jumping on everyone like a fucking zombie.

But no, it wasn’t Yuri’s fault. This technically wasn’t even any of his goddamn business, yet here he was, navigating the streets of Moscow in the freezing cold while clutching the bag of cold pirozhki that was his to begin with.

This was Victor’s fault. The incompetent geezer who had ditched his protégé and left him to deal with his nerves and anxiety all alone while he flew off to Japan for his dog. So no, actually, it was Makkachin’s fault! And all because the bundle of useless brown fluff had almost choked himself to death. Did he not know that he wasn’t supposed to eat those fucking manju? Was he not taught anything? Fuck, could dogs even be taught this kind of stuff?

Dumbass dog. Yuri hoped he was okay.

Speaking of dumbasses, the pork cutlet bowl seemed to have absolutely no idea that Yuri was slowly advancing towards him from the side. Even the steady crunching of fallen snow beneath sneakers and the slight rustle of a paper bag did not stir him from his daze. Did the dumbass human not have ears or peripheral vision? Yuri could have been a thief or a killer, and with the state that Yuuri was in right now, targeting him would have been all but too easy. Was he often like this? How will he protect himself if he never notices people approaching?

Yuri stopped a few metres away from the disheartened Japanese man, because shit, he hadn’t rehearsed an opening line. It wasn’t every day that he comforted sad figure skaters and casually offered them a bag of his favourite food. What should he say? ‘Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t hug you back’? ‘You must be feeling lonely without Victor’? ‘I saw that you looked pretty miserable back there, so here I am to keep you company and hopefully cheer you up a bit’?

The ideas were preposterous and out of the question, and Yuri felt like throwing up at the thought of ever uttering those words, even if there may have been some truth in them. And plus, his aim was to give Yuuri some kind of semblance of home and the warmth he craved, not alarm him even more by being overly eager and gross. Normalcy might be the better option.

So Yuri did what he did best. He leapt and hurled his body forward, extending his leg to dig his foot squarely into the Japanese skater’s body. There was just the right amount of force and aim in the kick to send Yuuri plummeting sideways with a startled yowl, before dropping face-down onto the snow.

‘There you are, Katsudon,’ Yuri grumbled. ‘You made me look for you.’

He almost slapped a palm over his mouth for that declaration, but then Yuuri rotated himself on the ground and looked up at him with eyes so vulnerable that his embarrassment vanished instantly

‘Oh, Yurio…’ Yuuri managed to articulate. Yuri had long since moved on from refusing to answer to that undesirable nickname to begrudgingly tolerating it only from certain people. But tonight, hearing the word flowing so naturally from Yuuri’s mouth almost made him feel comforted. Yuri wasn’t sure what he had been expecting or possibly even fearing, but Yuuri’s response was enough to calm his nerves a smidgen. As it turned out, the Japanese man wasn’t the only person who needed some sense of normalcy tonight.

Regardless, Yuri was still traumatised from the sickening hug fest and more than a little exasperated by Yuuri’s disappointing skating performance, so he had some good complaining to do.

‘What was that earlier? Stop creeping me out! And what was that free skate, anyway?’ he scolded, not once pausing to allow Yuuri to answer; he needed to get it all out of his system before he chickened out and stormed back in the direction he had come from. ‘You can make the excuse that you couldn’t do your best because Victor wasn’t there,’ Yuri reminded the confused Japanese skater, before shoving his resentment into the pit of his stomach so he could speak the next words without detonating, ‘but I was in top form and earned a new personal best, only to lose to JJ again! You have no right to feel more down than me, Katsudon!’ By now, Yuri was pointing an accusing finger right in Yuuri’s innocent face and had raised his voice so that he was bellowing.

Yuri was never one to openly talk about his failures, especially with rivals and competitors. Would he later feel humiliated that he painted himself in a lowly light simply to cheer someone else up? Probably. But if it managed to relieve Yuuri’s discouragement and self-loathing, then maybe Yuri could suck it up and get over it eventually.

With that, Yuri felt his fingers tighten around the worn paper bag. The moment had arrived. It was now or never.

Should he do it? It wasn’t too late to back out. He could casually end this somewhat pointless conversation and troop back to the safety of his room, where he would be free from the pressure of expressing an emotion other than anger. But then, what? Leave the stupid pork cutlet bowl out here, moping in the frigid winter of Moscow? The teen would then spend the rest of the night staring ruefully at the bag of uneaten pirozhki, too ashamed to eat them himself.

Alright, fine, let’s do this… Actually, you know what? Screw it. But still… I can’t just… Oh, for fuck’s sake…

This was a life decision for Yuri Plisetsky. But then his eyes met Yuuri Katsuki’s downhearted ones and took in the sight of his doleful posture, and he decided, to hell with it.

It was like his arm moved before his brain directed it to, tossing the bag into Yuuri’s lap. ‘You can have it,’ the teen muttered, unable to look at Yuuri’s face as he felt an unwelcome heat tingling beneath the skin of his face. ‘It’s almost your birthday, right?’

Fuck, why is my face burning up like this? It’s supposed to be fucking snowing.

‘Eh?’ Yuuri looked down and opened the paper bag in his lap. ‘Pirozhki?’

Yuri wished the ground would swallow him up right then and there as he watched the Japanese skater take in the sight of his early birthday gift. There was no turning back now. He was done for. The cool and edgy Ice Tiger of Russia had caved beneath the forces of sympathy and affection, reduced to nothing but a mass of sappy, pleasant niceness. This was absolutely disgusting, yet Yuri found that he did not regret this disgusting decision one bit.

He buried his fists in the pockets of his hoodie, not daring to direct his gaze at the man sitting on the ground before him. ‘Eat,’ he ordered.

And just his luck, a fucking car decided to whizz past at that precise moment, possibly drowning out the one word he had managed to muster.

I am not fucking repeating myself.

‘Huh? Right here?’ Yuuri asked innocuously.

‘Eat!’ barked Yuri. Good god, why was he so helpless tonight? Yuri would need to find time later to mourn the bygone days when he had been a strong and formidable young man.

His internal struggles were halted as the pork cutlet bowl slowly rose to his feet, tucking the bag of pirozhki against his belly. He lowered the mask that had been concealing his face, and when he did, Yuri felt comforted once more to see that his expression was not as devastatingly forlorn as he had been expecting.

Beneath the mask, Yuuri Katsuki had the countenance of a lonely child, lost and defenceless in this foreign country without his primary source of warmth and solace. Yuri felt reassured to note that there were no tear stains or signs of serious affliction, yet there was no denying that while things could have been worse, they definitely could be better.

But when Yuuri reached shyly into the brown bag and picked up a single pirozhok, there was a blissful glimmer in his eyes that seemed to lift all of his features in a relaxed expression of curiosity. Yuri was pleased to hear a satisfying crunch as Yuuri bit into the baked bun, and in the tranquility surrounding the two of them, he could even make out the muffled chomping noises as the Japanese man chewed.

Yuuri’s eyes darted around ever so slightly as his face shifted in concentration, and the sight was endearing enough to lift the edges of Yuri’s own lips, too.

‘There’s rice in this…’ Yuuri observed suddenly.

You bet there is!

‘Pork cutlet and egg, too…’

Yep, yep! Keep going!

Yuuri’s eyes widened with understanding, and he lifted the pirozhok slightly closer to his face to study it. ‘It’s a pork cutlet bowl!’ he proclaimed.

Yuri had been holding in his own pent-up excitement from the moment Yuuri had bit into the pirozhok, and as soon as the statement left Yuuri’s mouth, he finally let it flow forth.

‘That’s right!’ exclaimed Yuri, lifting a finger to elucidate his point. ‘My grandpa made them himself! Great, aren’t they?’ He tilted his head proudly, feeling the smile etching itself deeper onto his face.

‘Yeah! They’re vkusno!’

Yuri had no idea what he looked like to the world right now. Most likely a ridiculous grinning fool who was way too happy that his friend was enjoying his grandfather’s cooking. But watching Yuuri munching on the pirozhki, his previous depression replaced with pure delight that reached his eyes, Yuri Plisetsky couldn’t bring himself to give a single fuck.

‘Here, you have one, too, Yurio!’

Yuri was jolted out of his thoughts when a pirozhok appeared in front of his eyes. He glanced to the side to see Yuuri beaming at him, face eager as he extended the baked snack to the teen, and found himself completely immobilised and at a loss for words. The unwanted heat returned to Yuri’s face at full force, complete with a flush that made him attempt to pull his hood lower over his face, only to find that it would not go down any further.

‘I-It’s okay…’ he managed to stutter. ‘They’re for you—’

‘I want you to eat with me. Together,’ insisted Yuuri, offering a smile so bright and so hopeful that the snow around them and Yuri’s heart may as well have melted on the spot.

‘I… um…’

‘Yurio, are you okay?’ Yuuri’s brows knitted together as he caught sight of the blush dusting Yuri’s cheeks. ‘Your face looks like it’s turning r—’

‘I’m fine!’ snapped Yuri, reaching out and snatching the pirozhok from Yuuri’s hand. ‘I’m just cold! People’s faces can turn red when they’re cold. Didn’t you know that, moron?’ He bit into the bun aggressively, chewing noisily in the hopes that keeping his mouth occupied would save him from spluttering any more nonsense.

The Ice Tiger’s image was beyond salvaging at this point.

But somehow, with the snow drifting gently onto his nose and shoulders, the radiant lights blinking in the background, and Yuuri giggling lightly beside him, Yuri decided that this was much more precious than any image he could ever have hoped to retain. The pirozhki were indeed cold and hardened, and the frosty winter air showed no signs of relenting, but Yuri couldn’t remember a time outside of his grandfather’s house when he had ever felt this warm.

No matter how slowly he tried to eat the pirozhok, though, the moment was bound to come to an end.

‘Thank you, Yurio,’ said Yuuri sincerely, after the last morsel had been devoured. ‘I was feeling a little down before, but thanks to you, I think I’m a lot better now.’

Yuri looked up to meet the pork cutlet bowl’s glistening brown orbs, and the undeniable sparks of gratitude he saw swimming there were enough to stop him from putting on a scowl.

He held Yuuri’s gaze for just a tad longer, before closing his eyes and inhaling. ‘Whatever. Just don’t go around giving people freakish hugs and then moping alone like a loser, and maybe you’ll save me some time and food.’

Yuuri smiled with a flash of knowingness, but said nothing more. Instead, he made to fold up the empty paper bag.

‘Here, just give that to me,’ mumbled Yuri.

‘To you? Oh, it’s okay! I’ll throw—’

‘Give it to me!’

After Yuuri had flinched at his forceful insistence and obediently relinquished the mass of brown paper into his hands, Yuri looked up at the older man with a glare. ‘Well? The fuck are you doing still standing out here? Get your ass back to your hotel room before you freeze.’

Yuuri briefly shifted his gaze to his shoes, before raising his head to look Yuri in the eyes. And when he spoke again, his words were quiet but genuine. ‘Thanks for taking care of me, Yurio. I really appreciate it.’

‘Huh?! I was not taking care of you, idiot!’ Yuri spat. ‘I swear to god, the ridiculous ideas you get in that shit brain of yours. Now fuck off and get some fucking sleep so you don’t miss your flight tomorrow, or you won’t get your nauseating reunion with your dumbass coach.’

Yuuri seemed completely unfazed by the Russian boy’s surly expression, which was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. Instead, he gave Yuri a small, thankful bow. ‘Well, I guess I’ll see you at the Finals, Yurio. Good luck to both of us! And thank you again.’

Yuri watched as he turned and began to head back in the direction of the hotel. He considered hollering a reminder that Yuuri would suffer a miserable defeat at the Final, but a glimpse of the paper bag in his hand made him stop.

The pirozhki had been eaten. Not eaten by himself or anyone else, but by Yuuri Katsuki. Yuuri Katsuki had accepted Yuri’s early birthday gift. Yuuri Katsuki had happily eaten the pirozhki Yuri had brought for him, and even offered Yuri one, too. Yuuri Katsuki had spent his night in the freezing snow alone with Yuri, just the two of them, his face adorned with a smile that Yuri had been the cause of.

Yuri hugged the empty bag close to his body, feeling his heart swell and his chest brim with joy, and allowed himself one last, tiny smile for the night.

He was definitely not still concerned about the pork cutlet bowl or anything, but Yuri stole a final peek in the direction of Yuuri’s retreating form, and saw that his shoulders were no longer as slumped and that his feet had stopped dragging behind him with each step he took. With most of Yuuri’s misery alleviated for now, Yuri finally allowed himself to heave a sigh of relief. His part was done, and the rest lay in the hands of that stupid old man.

The wind whistled softly, carrying away with it the last remnants of Yuri’s unease, and Yuuri’s sadness was left behind to dissipate with the evening snowfall. Not all of it, but enough for Yuri to finally be at peace.

Mission accomplished.

#yuri on ice #yuri plisetsky #yuri katsuki #yuuri katsuki #yuuyu #yuriyuu #victuuri #yurio nice #mine #writing #creative writing #fanfiction #fanfic #prose

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andrewuttaro · 6 years

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New Look Sabres: GM 53 - CAR - Chasing Two

We meet again, Canes of Carolina. Your 53 is our 53 now as we meet for the 53rd game of the season. We already did playoff trash talk for the Canes but I got a feeling there will be more coming down the stretch here. Why do we hate the Hurricanes so much right now? The Skinner stuff is behind us and I suspect his extension will soon be as well. It’s probably the gull of a team as consistently bad as Carolina, perhaps longer than Buffalo has been bad, deciding this is the season to get in our fucking way. Unless one of Pittsburgh, Boston or Montreal hits the skids real hard down the stretch it’s you, me and Columbus for the one wildcard spot left in the East. So fuck you Carolina: this Sabres team has been shit for a solid two months straight but whatever hope I can muster that they still got a chance at the playoffs this year I will sharpen into a fine shiv and run into this cage match with. That hope could have died tonight. For some of you reading this it may have. This game was about chasing two straight wins – two straight wins which would be this club’s first two wins in a row since December. Perhaps they ultimately didn’t get there because they were doing too much chasing so to speak. But what occurred last night was not the performance of a club accepting its fate and tapping out of the playoff race. What happened last night was enough to make the Spartans at Thermopylae proud. Sure, once you explained ice hockey to them and they observed it long enough to understand what being good at it looks like they may have had some thoughts on the Sabres first period and most of their third; but CHIN UP I say to you! Chin up because this Sabres club is not going down without a fight! Honey, we’re going down swinging!

The Carolina Hurricanes came out shooting like lax southern gun laws to start the first: every puck that a Sabre was not on was scooped up by Hurricane and blown into the zone closest to Linus Ullmark (Thanks Coach, I knew you would make the right goalie decision). The Canes did what any team who watches this Buffalo club knows is the Sabres biggest weakness as of late: turnovers, unforced and not. The team from south of the Mason-Dixon Line capitalized in this brutal stretch when North Carolina’s favorite soft boy Sebastian Aho served up the juiciest pass from behind the net to a streaking Justin Faulk. Ullmark couldn’t get to the other post in time and Faulk buried it. Well beach bodies: up here in New York we got this thing called ice, the game is actually played on it. What followed shortly after the Faulk goal was a penalty on definitely-moonlighting-as-a-vampire Jaccob Slavin which led to a powerplay for the home team that froze Carolina up like a Buffalo Ice Storm. The powerplay was fruitless but the Sabres poured shots on Curtis McElhinney for the rest of the period. Teuvo Teravainen tallied a second goal for Carolina early in the second period. At this point in the night I’m listening to the game on the radio driving up the 190. WGR 550 has these musical interludes as the broadcast returns from break and at this 2-0 dire moment in the second period one of those interludes was a section of “Slide” by Goo Goo Dolls. My throat got real dry and I shed a tear. Is it because I’m an emotional wreck paying attention to the Sabres these days? NO! But a good guess. NO, it’s because I visualized the playoffs like Jack tells us to and I felt it slipping away! But then what happened? Jack’s team came back.

HUT HUT, FIND A HOLE! The McElhinney wall has to come down! FIND A HOLE! Ristolainen from the line: save; puck to Conor Sheary in front: save; puck to Evan Rodriguez who holds and sweeps that puck into the hole like the beautiful Canadian Sniper he is! Now the Canes really froze up like they’d never seen ice before because seven minutes later resident Dad-Bod Jason Pominville collected his own rebound and tapped an equalizer past McElhinney. Tie game you fair weather mother fuckers! Believe it or not it’s hot here for a couple months in each year and you know what I spend that time doing? Oh, not going to the playoffs? You’re funny: you’re a real piece of work for giving more of a shit about NASCAR than the variable 1970s strong man competition of a gun show y’all have for a lineup! Oh, but when hockey players clap a little and slide down the ice into the goal like it’s a slip-and-slide after wins all you guys come running to the arena! I hope y’all don’t make the playoffs just because you’re a bunch of fucking ungrateful slow talkers who like Duke! The game was tied! It was tied going into the third! And then what happened? Well: a relative menagerie of frat-boy-looking Hurricanes capitalized on the Sabres doing Sabres things like turning over the puck and chasing it around like they’re fishing catch-and-release! First it was wrestling team captain and beer-pong champion of the Carolinas Greg McKegg who polished in a loose puck behind Ullmark after being giving ten fucking years to put it in and still bounced it off the post! Then Jeff Skinner had a fucking hulk moment and realized the profundity of the situation he was in and flew off on a breakaway to guide the puck in like a clumsy baby giraffe. Oh no, I know it was art. Please sign soon, Jeff.

Stop those warm feelings for sweet sweet Jeffery because Fergus, Ontario’s High School Quarterback and favorite ginger son Brock McGinn cleaned up a Jordan Martinook rebound right in front of Ullmark to get the visitors ahead 4-3. Do they even have American Football in small town Ontario? Whatever because here comes the President of the punchable face club Nino Niederreiter to capitalize on the powerplay and put the Canes up 5-3 with five minutes left in regulation. Now here is really the moment when I realized this team isn’t going down without a fight: down by two goals (again, which is a concerning problem all its own) this team did not quit. Jeff Skinner emerged from the box beaten but not defeated. But before he gets his time against his former team it’s time for irony to a drop kick you in the balls. Marco Scandella, in a move that will certainly earn him starts for the rest of the season over far more deserving defensemen, gets the puck from Sam Reinhart and shoots low. The puck went in and it was a one goal game now. Irony has a name and it is Marco Scandella. Perhaps it was too late as time now ticked into the double digits in regulation with the Sabres down by one. Guess who you butter-binging, Trump-voting motherfuckers: JEFF MOTHER FUCKING SKINNER! Collect the puck, toe drag, bender: tie Game! It’s like the third act of fucking Miracle beating the team in the red jersey! There was 56 seconds left on the clock! This one goes to OT. And there, well there Teuvo Teravainen streaks into the Sabres defensive zone 2-on-0 and dekes out Ullmark for the game winner. That’s the way the cookie crumbles in this league: one good rush in OT and it’s all over. Carolina wins 6-5.

The Chase for Two straight wins falls flat; but you know what didn’t fall flat? Yea, the Buffalo Sabres. Yeah, they really stunk up most of the third and looked like they were playing hot potato with the puck for most of the first but you know what: that was one hell of a comeback, two if we’re counting game deficits here. Imagine Jeff Skinner pots the OT winner for a hat trick and the Sabres get two points out of this game instead of just one. It’s a whole different conversation then, isn’t it? I’m not rationalizing the many mistakes or playing the what-if game. I’m calling the glass half full and I don’t know about you but I’m not holding my breath tomorrow waiting for Jason Botterill to make a trade as if 95% of the trades he could reasonably make would have any effect on this team down the stretch. We got what we got right now folks and trust me; I am dying for the playoffs too. What happened last night was not nothing and we didn’t get nothing for it either. Carolina, you better watch your back because we’re breathing down it and every game between now and March 16th is going to be an assault on your chances to take that spot from Columbus. The Sabres can certainly get three points out of this weekend’s two matchups and Carolina only has one game in that same stretch so there’s a scenario where we’re sitting here Monday morning and the Sabres are 1 point back of that playoff spot and ahead of Carolina again. Yea, I’m not broken yet and neither should you be. Honey, we’re going down swinging.

Of course everyone in the locker room is going to be disappointed with that result and that emotion is good even if Savior Sam is misdirecting it at Ullmark. Phil Housley was the only postgame interview I was at all embarrassed by. He’s the one misusing players out the wazoo and throwing forward line combinations at Velcro board and seeing what sticks. Put out your best lineup, Phil. This is the team now and I’m not saying it is good enough to make the playoffs having won 9 of its last 28 games but teams not good enough make the playoffs all the time, you can ask New Jersey about that. And I refuse to hop on the locomotive of self-loathing Sabres twitter seems to be on. This game just gave me too much to chew on. Well like, comment and share this blog even if you think I am insane. With this team: sometimes I feel like it. This frickin team! They hurt me over and over and lord knows I’ll still be watching them at my in-laws this weekend. This frickin eternally ass team: Oh the shit I would do for a playoff berth. OH THE SHIT I WOULD DO! Go Sabres! If they make it by one point this game is going to be my masterpiece. Oh god I need them to make the playoffs. Go Sabres! I’m going to repeat it like I’m trying to remember it: Go Sabres! Go Sabres! Don’t go breaking my heart.

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Sara Civ is a great follow on twitter. She is one of the better hockey beat reporters out there and if it weren’t for her covering that frickin team I’d probably be mentioning her more.

#buffalo sabres #hockey #nhl #blog #carolina hurricanes

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justbeinghonestwithyou · 7 years

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A confession

You know what I miss? The days where you could light up a cigarette in a public room. Any room. People who could just take out what are now known as ‘cancer sticks’ and flick the switch and burn their life away without a care in the world – they were the cool ones. They didn’t care about life, they’d seen too much and heard too much and they knew the end was coming. Now? Now is just a time for teenage angst, exam stress, and mommy threw a frying pan at the wall. They think they earned the token seal to burn away at their life. I look around and I feel like life is slowly being controlled by the helicopter parents and their entitled children. Even I, a teen, is tired of hearing about ‘our rights’ and the injustice we live under. Soon they’ll be hiding Cosmopolitan magazines under those oh so special black bags of censorship. It’s like you can’t say the word Sex or Sexual Liberation without the child police coming in to scold you for embracing your impending adulthood. To be honest with you, I’d rather my child sees a few nipples and butts before their 12 than have them be touched by a sexually deprived 15 year old because society forgot what masturbation is. Honestly. They see nipples every time they get undressed. Get a grip. I just wish I could close my eyes and the world will be like okay. We need to breathe. Relax. Do you know why? Death, rape, and suicide. Every time I open a paper, that’s the topic of choice. The story of the day. How very shocking. At this point I’ve seen so many TV programmes about it, I wonder how I’m still alive. I’ll let you in on a little secret. The official ratio of a woman of being raped in the UK is 1 in 200. It’s wrong. That’s the official ratio of recorded rapes. By the time I was 15, I had met 5 people out of 300 who had been raped. Those were the ones who told me. Then there were those who speculated. Then there were those so scarred by it, they wouldn’t tell a soul. Now I have about 500 friends on my Facebook friends list, and I could show you about 15 people who had been raped. 15 out of 600. 600 of which includes males. Males who can’t legally be raped. If I told you the number of those people who I knew for a fact had been sexually assaulted you would cry. Why? Because when I say sexually assaulted I don’t a tit-grab or butt smack, I mean pure unadultered sexual assault. From unconcensual fingering, pressured into doing sexual acts, an under 16 with an over 25, drunken encounters, forced stripping. Some of them performed by women. Some of them performed on me. I’d like to say that I feel sad or that I lived a life that lead me down this road. But I didn’t do drugs, I was a solid B grade student with A grade potential, 2 long term boyfriends of over a year each, and my parents could testify I spent way too long online to actually go outside. No. The sad truth. This is the life. This is the life of the young lives you are trying to protect so much. This is part of my every day, this is part of our everyday. So every time someone says they’re too tired it’s not because they were out partying all the time, we’re tired because we have to keep up the pretence that we are okay. That are lives aren’t already touched by the crime we see on the TV, to distance ourselves from it. Drugs, partying, insomnia, gaming, reading, all the little thing we delve into seemingly obsessed with, are not teenage antics but the things we do to continue our lives as normal as we can and ignored how either painfully tragic or painfully boring our lives really are. “School.” You say. The answer to everything if we study hard and keep our heads down none of these issues would be issues. Yet those are the true victims, not only do they see the FOMO starring into their face. Pardon my young language. I meant the Fear of Missing Out. They get the whole lot. They judge everyone. They look at their comrades, their classmates, their peers, or however you want to call them with a superior look. A lot of them don’t know they think they like everyone that they don’t judge or get involved with drama. They don’t see how judgemental each eye roll is, or scoff, or “I would never do that personally” or even better yet “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” They truly believe they are making the better life choice by sitting down and observing by not getting involved. Except, they’re not safe either. The pressure of school, college leads to their impending suicide, self-loathing, and eating disorder. Or better yet, they’ve been touched by the same pain and violation we all were but unlike the rest of them, they’re in shock. The true pain of following the every tip on “avoid being raped” articles around (and yes they do exist) and here you are. Raped. Don’t get me wrong we’re not all victims of sexual violation. No. Not at all. We’re lost in our teenage crisis that everybody seems to forget. Our lives aren’t such a big deal. Amber stole Maria’s boyfriend they say. Teachers scoffs at the childishness of young people and yet you go home to your perfect home and perfect live because you figured it all out. Oh wait I forgot teachers are humans, and humans have problems and yet they look down at all of ours as if they’re insignificant. Why? Maybe because we don’t pay tax. Who knows. I’m sorry, teacher, I can’t just ignore the guy who tried to strangle me in the halls. I’m sorry my friend doesn’t want to be a teacher assistant in the same room as the guy who burnt her for fun. You listen. You know. You pretend as if it’s just all a gross exaggeration. You think telling someone to kiss and make up with a girl who stole someone’s boyfriend is going to make it okay even though adults divorce, ruin that person’s life, and sometimes murder them for less. You think because we’re young we don’t feel the heart break of an adult however if we date someone for a year, that’s what? 1/15 of our lifetime. If you’re 35 and been seeing some for 2 years that’s 1/17.5 of your lifetime. Everything feels so final because it’s all we know. Yet no one seems to remember. I’m okay. I’m great actually. My hormones have calmed and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I knew a guy who didn’t see the light. He killed himself. I didn’t care, I didn’t cry, I didn’t go to his funeral. Do you know what I am? It’s not in denial. I’m honest. After his death I saw so many comments about it, how sad they were yet they didn’t even speak to him. They didn’t even know enough of his friends to know why he did it. I didn’t know him long enough to say he touched me because he didn’t. I know I sound cold but that’s death. Death is cold. Death is the absence of light, warmth. The absence of being. We make such a big deal about the loss of someone’s life. However if he didn’t want to live, why should he have to? I tried to end it a few times myself. I’m grateful now I didn’t however life got better. Life doesn’t always get better. Sometimes. Life is bad. Life ends. I’d rather end my own life then let life end it for me without having given me a reason. Why do we deny people the control to end their life? Because of their families? Because maybe life will get better? They’re not happy, they’re not content. I see no point in forcing someone to live. I’m not saying if someone wanted to die I wouldn’t try and stop them, no. If you met me you’d know I believe in life. I believe in the fight to live. However we weren’t given the option to enter this world. We should have the option to leave it if we may. That’s it. That’s all I had to say. In school they always teach you to write a conclusion at the end of the essay. It’s not for me to write the conclusion you have made from this however. Life goes on. That’s all I have to say.

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musingsofamiddleagedmillennial · 4 years

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Fear of Small Beginnings

Taking steps in your self-awareness journey is KEY to discovering your strengths and weaknesses, which in turn allows you to identify opportunities plus manage threats (where you can). It occurred to me yesterday, after watching a YouTube video and reading through some comments, that I AM AFRAID OF SMALL BEGINNINGS (the video wasn’t even about that). In fact, I would propound that a majority of us are. And I don’t think as many of us are as aware of that fact as we should be.

You might be thinking, definitely not me, but you’d be surprised. Have you ever wanted to go back to school, then thought “I’m too old to be going to school.” I’m sure you’ve also tried to take up a new hobby or sport and then given up after four weeks because you’re not yet a pro at it. You think it’s time-wasting since it’s not something you can either profit off, brag about to your friends or post on social media for brownie points.

Basically, if you’ve ever had thoughts about doing something and you end up not doing it because it’s not grand enough – like a multimillion business - or it will take up too much time yet not produce enough results, you might be suffering from this fear. It sounds like I’m simply talking about procrastination/inactivity but we’ll get back to that later.

So, what next? Well, I’m also trying to figure it out myself.

I know, you might be thinking this was of no use at all, but identifying the reasons why you do things in the first place is paramount to being able to change those actions. For instance, if you dig deep and find out why you drink so much (fear of socializing, drowning out self-deprecating thoughts, don’t know how to cope with stress etc etc), you can manage the triggers and thus help you reduce the incidences that drinking will occur. This is true for most situations in life. And back to my procrastination point … why do we group all of our indecision or inactivity into the lump sum “procrastination”? From a definition standpoint, it may look like what you’re doing is procrastinating, but even procrastination has different causes. Fear of small beginnings is one of them. Fear of failure is also usually enmeshed in it.

Laziness is one of the most widely accepted reasons for procrastination. So most of us might think we’re lazy when in fact we’re not. You’ll pick up your text book to study, then throw it away and find a million things to do other than study. You might even wash your entire house. That’s not a sign of a lazy person. Now, occasionally, this happens when our minds are just not in the right mental space for some activity. But if this happens most or all of the time with that particular activity- be it studying or running or building your business - you’re procrastinating, and there could be various reasons why. So have a candid – no, brutally honest – conversation with yourself, and find out why. You might find out you’re performing poorly at work because you loathe whatever it is you do and would rather wake up at 5 am to milk cows, And that realization is ok. In fact, it’s freeing. Because you can now start thinking about what’s next for you. Instead of going on and on in circles about trying to apply yourself more at work, failing to do so, then beating yourself up over it. A repetitive cycle that does not do anything to fix the situation. Sometimes you might just realize that you are indeed lazy. And now you’ll be able to work solely on that.

For me, I don’t enjoy small beginnings. First, they’re not pompous. They’re barely noticeable. And deep down, I’m one of those “go big or go home people.” Or at least I’ve always felt that way because of my experiences in childhood where my parents only lauded being first in class, first in swimming, first in anything. Even 2nd place was so whatever to them. So now I’m always thinking, “if I’m not good at something” or “if I don’t make 1 million my first month in business” what’s the point of even starting? I know, sounds so full of pride. But it’s actually fear. Of small beginnings and of failure. Second, I feel like because I’ve accepted a small beginning, that will always be my destiny. To be small. And I don’t want that. Third, these beginnings sometimes feel like they drag out for too long. Beginnings usually require a lot of input – of money, time, effort, research, blood, sweat, tears - and you usually don’t see much output, because you’re laying out the foundation. And if this goes on for weeks or months, the lack of momentum is very discouraging.

Despite not figuring out how to deal with it, I have been trying some things out. One thing I always tell myself is that in four years’ time. I’ll still be four years older. Whether or not I start school/the business/whatever today. And, isn’t it much better to have those things under your belt now? You might be older than you were yesterday or five years ago, but you can’t get the past back. No matter how hard you try to will it. And today is the youngest you’ll ever be. So perhaps start working on those projects NOW.

Try this method, see how it works. And also don’t focus too much on how much you’ve earned, or how much you’ve learned- just focus on adding a bit more traction the next day. And then the next. In six months’ time you might be surprised at how far you’ve gone.

#mondaymotivation #motivating myself #get up and go #start now #back to the beginning

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pansye010234-blog · 6 years

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What Creates A Great Performer? By Kim Wist.

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When you value how your husband experiences, he is bound to be even more contented in the marital relationship, which subsequently will create him satisfied.

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billssefton · 7 years

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coworker is too aggressive about enforcing rules, colleague selling free stuff from work, and more

It’s five answers to five questions. Here we go…

1. My coworker is too aggressive about keeping our lab clean

My colleague, who is my peer, recently got a responsibility he treats very seriously. That responsibility is focused around improvement of tidyness of the laboratory with a focus of reducing the risk of contamination. These are serious issues that I completely support — they are not only important, they are essential. Unfortunately, since he got that responsibility I find him unbearable: he bombards the team with letters about the “lack of discipline”; he tells us we are “looking for excuses” and the effect of negligence on our front are “gross.” He decided to clamp down on some minor issues and he is very committed to that task (while he doesn’t listen to opinions on the major, related issues, like cleanliness of the floor). He told me off for the supposed “bad practice” in front of the junior staff, and his rhetoric is really intense and at the moment is causing me anxiety and makes me self-loathe and makes me hate coming to work.

I would like to tell him somehow to pipe down, as at the moment my constant stress because of his attitude makes me less focused and less productive. I personally have lots of years of experience and my work does not suffer from contamination problems. I really do not want to appear obstructive — I wish him all the best with the difficult task he is fighting — I just cannot stand the constant crusade of pointing (some but not the other) errors in our work.

I also know he has struggled for the last few years with his performance, and he is trying to prove himself in this new niche — but I am tired of his clumsy attempts to shine. I would appreciate if you can tell me how to tactfully tell him to calm down a bit.

“Dude, can you take this down a notch? Reducing contamination is important, but this is way too intense.”

Or, “Hey, I support your efforts in this area, but none of us want to be scolded like this. Can you think about a lighter-touch approach?”

If that doesn’t work, talk to his manager. I suspect he’s gone rogue here, and his manager would rein him back in.

2. Colleague selling free stuff he gets from work

I work in a library in a university. We get a fair few donations of books, some of which we don’t need (relevance, duplication, etc.). I circulate lists of disposals to other libraries locally, then whatever’s left on the shelf gets offered to staff in the building. There’s always a scramble, and there are a few who descend like locusts and snap up the choicest morsels every time. You snooze, you lose, all’s fair and so on.

However, a colleague has raised concerns that another colleague takes some of the nicer books, then sells them on Amazon, pocketing the profits. I’ve not yet found concrete evidence to confirm this, and won’t take any action until I can be sure, but something about this strikes me as a bit … morally dubious. I can see if you’ve got a huge collection, and you realize that maybe you no longer want a particular title that you picked up for free, you might offer it for sale, but I suspect this isn’t what he’s doing. Given what he routinely takes, I worry that it’s more like he’s systematically depriving everyone else of certain (usually expensive and limited print) books to line his own pockets.

I feel like I’d like to address it with him or his line manager, but that it’s not really within my remit. After all, when those books go on that shelf, they’re effectively there for the taking, whether you decide to read them, use them to prop up table legs or shred them to line your hamster cage. Why shouldn’t I begrudge him this additional source of income? (The only reason I don’t do it for the library is the time/effort involved.) But it doesn’t sit well with me. As I said, these are often the nicest books (RRP can be $50-$75 or even a lot more for some of them). Is there any action you think I can take? Or do I find another solution?

Yes! It’s reasonable to officially say, “We ask that you take these books for personal use only. These are not for resale.” You’re not offering them to people so they can make money off of them; you’re offering them because they might derive personal enjoyment from the books, and there’s something unseemly about him rushing to deprive his colleagues of books they might want to read so that he can turn a profit.

And if you do find evidence after that that he’s taking them for resale, then he’s breaking a clear rule and profiting off his access to library books in a way that wasn’t intended, and it’s fair game at that point to tell him the books are now off-limits to him. If you don’t have the authority to do that, you probably do have the authority to bring it to the attention of someone who does.

3. Employer wants my salary history — but I’ve already accepted their job offer

I recently received a great offer to a new company, and they came in at exactly what I asked for. After I accepted and signed the offer letter, they sent me a link to enter my information to complete the background check, but in the employment verification section, they asked for my salary at every job in the past 10 years … and it is a required field in the form! I was unable to enter “n/a” so I submitted a zero so that it was clear that I wasn’t lying, just declining to provide the information. I’m not hiding anything undesirable, I just don’t see any reason they would need this information for such a long period of my career, and find it strange to be asked this on a background check. I would be curious to hear any thoughts, drawbacks, or suggestions on how to handle something like this in the future.

That’s actually a good way to handle it. It’s clear that you didn’t actually earn zero dollars at every job, so you’re conveying that you’re declining to answer that question. And you should decline — it’s none of their business. You’ve already accepted an offer from them!

If they come back and ask for the numbers, you can say pleasantly, “Oh, I don’t give out that information — my employers have always considered that confidential.” If they push, then you can say, “I’m confused about why you’re asking for it. I’ve accepted your offer. Can you explain why you’re looking for this now?”

More advice on this here and here.

4. Can I keep the money if I win my office’s March Madness pool?

This may sound like a silly thing to worry about, but I’m weirdly anxious about winning my office’s March Madness pool! We are a small company (nine employees total) and I am one of two remote employees on the staff. Last week, I received an email inviting all staff to participate in a March Madness pool — $15 entry, winner-take-all. I love sports and competition, so I immediately jumped on this and returned my completed bracket.

Now, though, I’m wondering what would be expected of me in the off chance that I win. Is keeping the money in poor taste? Would it be better to donate the money in the company’s name (and let my coworkers know), or purchase something for their office? If I worked in the same physical location as my coworkers, I guess I could bring in a box of donuts or treat to happy hour or something, but I’m across the country and won’t see them in person until August. I’m not saying I think I have the gift of magical foresight or anything, or that I think my winning is likely (although the pool is small so odds aren’t terrible!) but I can’t even enjoy rooting for my picks right now because I’m fixated on this. How would you proceed if you were in my place and happened to win?

You get to keep the money. Really — it’s totally normal to do that, and it’s what most people do. The exception would be if your office has some sort of specific-to-them tradition of you doing something else with it (and you could ask a coworker who’s been there longer than if that’s the case, if you weren’t there for the last one and it’s been a long-running tradition). But most people just keep it.

5. My peer did an exit interview with one of my employees behind my back

One of my direct reports put in notice for a much higher paying job with better benefits. A VP from another department, my peer, called this employee for an exit interview. During the interview the VP, asked the employee about my leadership; if I was driving them out of the company; and if I was competent. This seems inappropriate, but what if any recourse do I have?

Is there any chance that the VP was asked to do this by someone higher up? There’s a chance that could happen, like if they’re concerned about potential problems in your department and thought the VP had particular rapport with the exiting employee. But otherwise, yes, that’s inappropriate and out of line. You could talk to the VP and say, “I’m confused about how you got involved with the exit interview for Jane — what happened there?” Or you could talk to whoever normally arranges exit interviews and say, “I was surprised to hear Fergus called Jane for an exit interview — and frankly concerned about why he would be involved in something in my department like that. Can you give me any insight into how that came about?”