#still waiting for the revival of the barista event

[torgawl]

ayato and chiori's dynamic is so fun

[verysmolspams]

Oh my GOODNESS

Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll!

I don’t have a drawing of her yet but I do have some basic information! Please enjoy, thank you for the wait 🤍

Sniper OC! Eve

Full name: Everli Rose Peterson

Nickname: Eve

Age: 24

Class category: support

Best support class: sniper

Hometown: Chicago suburbs, IL, USA

Previous occupation: Barista, college student

Height: 5’2”

Class nickname: Cupid (female sniper lol, plus she’s petite and adorable so this is normally what other mercs do when calling out to her or joking around)

Everlei scored highest for all three support classes on her initial evaluation, so sometimes she has to do different things for different missions

Her favorite class is also sniper

Relations with her RED team::

Scout- friendly acquaintances: occasionally makes jokes with him since they’re near a similar age. She and him sometimes discuss junk foods and whatever is related to their age group at the time (music, culture, sports, etc)

Soldier- acquaintances: tends to avoid him on workout days so he doesn’t push her the wrong way. He finds it amusing how someone short could hold so much power (she has thicc thighs and a butt that could kill)

Pyro- acquaintances: she enjoys having another merc with more positive energy and is amused by their antics.

Demoman- friendly acquaintances: they have occasionally gotten drinks together with the other mercs (Eve is also more likely to get drunk since she’s smol lol) and both have opened up about their trauma with an authority figure (Merasmus for Demo, and an unknown Professor for Eve)

Heavy: friendly acquainted, has helped medic in several surgeries/experiments with the heavy, so she’s gotten to known him a little. Heavy sometimes calls her a “leetle doktor”

Engineer: familial, one of her “adopted dads” in her eyes. Loves looking at whatever he’s working on and asks questions to learn more. She has learned to fix a couple more appliances around the base to save him time for his gadgets. Also likes to listen to him play his guitar and stuff (she also played music as a kid and misses it)

Medic: familial and professional, Not only does she double as his assistant on some days, but she’s learned a thing or two about medical history from him and what to do in sketchy situations. Sometimes he’s a bad influence, but he is amused to have an assistant with endless curiosity for knowledge.

Sniper: Romantic, While their first encounter was anything but romantic the two became close after a noticing trend that Eve excelled best in sharpshooting and skills under Sniper’s training. As she continued the two found common interests in coffee, particular animals, and a few other things. Since they already spent a lot of time together they became familiar with each other’s personal stories once the trust was built. The kindness in her touch and his deep desire to protect her from harm fostered the affection that would become their romance. They became an item when Eve gets the courage to express her feelings on a ceasefire day. Saxton Hale’s disappearance causes some strain in their circumstances when Eve was isolated in the medic’s bay due to her mercenary contract being adjusted, as she had no home to return to and didn’t want to risk Sniper hiding a US criminal in his home, as her case of murder was still active. Any letters she attempted to write were burned by the enemy mercs in attempt to drive both of them mad. Eve escapes after the events of Blood in the Water, swearing vengeance even after Sniper is revived. Eventually the two hope to have a life together once they are ready to retire. (Future arc may involve Eve conceiving twins of his, meaning they may have a family life after retirement).

Spy: acquainted, then friendly acquaintances.Eve is not always on friendly par with spy for many reasons, one that his vibes remind her of her late ex boyfriend, Adrian. In an attempt to woo her for an evening of passion Spy uses his usual skills of seduction during an evening in a local town. She rejects him, and tells him to go find his original lover. (She is fully aware of scout being spy’s son). The unfortunate part is that when she become’s sniper’s partner she has to tolerate Spy more often, as they sometimes get along and seem to hold crucial information of the other mercenary. Spy leans off of teasing the brunette when he discovers she picked up Sniper’s jarate habit. He insults her as a “bushman’s whore” and can’t believe she’d abandon any ladylike tendencies for a man in a van. She throws her jarate at him, telling him to fuck off. She gets in trouble until Pauling discovers the secret relationship between Eve and Sniper. Efforts are then made to ensure Spy and Eve don’t pick fights in front of any of the cameras, and for them (for once) to use conflict resolution. Eventually they tolerate each other for the sake of professionalism and for Sniper, as Sniper is a Partial confidant to Spy. The arc against Gray Mann shows Spy and Eve eventually learn to be cordial with one another, but it doesn’t stop Spy from calling her indecent names when he’s irritated with her.

Pauling: friendly acquaintance, The very few conversations between the two are cordial, and Eve offers to help Pauling when she can, seeing as having another lady ally empowers Eve.

Backstory:

Everlei was scheduled to graduate at her university before she discovered her late boyfriend cheating on her with a girl she was told not to worry about. Snapping from the pressure of being a “perfect” student, she stole a rifle from her veteran neighbor and murdered her ex boyfriend, also wounding the other woman, Bridgette, in the process. She fled home as Bridgette was fully aware of being the other woman, and snitched to the cops, despite never knowing her personally. After a 3 month flee Eve was shot by a tranquilizer dart from Sniper. When he discovered she wasn’t a wild animal he took her into the base, asking for Medic’s assistance. The administrator had discovered from cameras and loca news that Eve was a criminal on the run, and wondered what this girl’s criminal potential could lead to. After an examination and healing from the Medic, Eve is made the offer to attempt the test to become a mercenary, which she agrees to. Her highest scores are in the support systems, leading to a training regime with Sniper, Medic and Spy. As an extra support She also learns how to assist Engineer with supplies should he need it. She maintained some skills of machinery from fixing the espresso machine back at her old job, so some of her odd talents prove to be useful. She excels as a Sniper and Medic, and will only be Spy or Engi support when needed. She develops a crush on the Sniper after spending more time with him in and out of combat, and eventually become a quiet item.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)

[violettelueur]

— FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || THANK YOU FOR STAYING

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of blood, mention of injury, mention of death and grammar issues

↳ form : imagine

↳ published : 18 january

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.6k

↳ request : AAAA YOUR FINALLY OPENN <3 um so for starters i was thinking abt the same scenario for the s/o, where the s/o was megumi’s gf. team tokyo was seeing your *dead* body lying on the ground, not knowing that your actually trying to use the reverse technique slowly. megumi felt he failed at protecting you, when you’re actually still alive but reviving. eventually he came to you, crying, and just kept saying “please dont leave me” “i cant afford to loose anything” “please”. IM SORRY IF ITS TOO SPECIFIC 😭😭 i really want some fluff+angst rn LMAOO. thankyou!! <33

↳ barista’s notes : hello hello hello ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ i had to remove a tiny bit of your request because it is a spoiler for non jujutsu kaisen manga readers ʕᴥ·　ʔ and don’t worry if you think you’re being too specific, i will try my best to make the perfect cup of  coffee for you ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ but other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and you’re welcome back anytime!

“Y/N, wake up please”

However, no matter how desperate he sounded nor how loud he was. You were non-responsive.

The grass below your body was struggling to soak up all the blood that had been spilt from your unknown wound caused by the special grade curse that you were fighting against.

No one knew how the curse was able to get into the premises of the battlefield of the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, let alone how it managed to get anywhere near Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College. However, right now, all Fushiguro knew was that you were in critical condition as you continued to stay silent to his pleas.

“This ain’t some joke Y/N, wake up!” Fushiguro shouted in agony as he lifted your body into his arms, searching for any source of warmth from you that he was desperate to hold. Yet, you were just stone cold.

Frantic, Fushiguro began to search around your body to see if he could find the injury that was the final blow that you took, but there was no visible presence of one leading to the shikigami sorcerer’s anxiety to heighten as he began to wonder what really happened to you. What could have the special curse did that causes you to fall into a coma? A coma right? You were just in a coma? You weren’t dead? You couldn’t be dead?

“Megumi, she’s….Y/N is..” Maki began to stutter, afraid of the junior’s reaction to what she would have to announce as she began to reach out to him, leading Fushiguro to turn to look at her with tears welled up in his eyes which led Maki to look at him with widened eyes.

Never once she ever saw the green-eyed sorcerer have a single tear in his eyes as well as the rest of the sorcerers behind her as they stared at the situation that was happening right in front of them. On the other hand, they weren’t really surprised at the fact that you were the one that brought those same tears into his precious eyes. 

You were the first person to ever make them see Fushiguro smile.

Itadori remembered it as clear as day. It was when he had first met you at Harajuku around the same time when he first met Kugisaki. To his surprise that day, you weren’t the new student that they were meeting but rather a current student at the school he newly attended, it was just that you weren’t the one chosen to collect Sukuna’s finger at Sendai that day due to you having a mission of your own.

                                              ꕥ

“So, you’re the infamous student that ate Sukuna’s finger?” you commented, as you walked towards the two students who were waiting in front of the station Gojo has told you to meet everyone at - but to no shock or surprise from you, the said teacher was not there to greet you.

“Oh? Are you the new student we are waiting for?” Itaodori kindly asked, as he took another bite out of his ice popsicle leading to your boyfriend, who was standing next to the salmon-haired boy, to have a say in the newly started conversation.

“No, this is L/N Y/N, she’s a first-year student like us, she enrolled at the same time as me,” Fushiguro informed the boy leading you to kindly smile at him while holding up a peace sign to seem more friendly.

“I’m Itadori Yuji, I’m from Sendai,” Itadori greeted you as he pointed at himself, causing you to nod your head before asking both the boys where your extremely tall teacher was, only for them to shrug at you indicating they had no idea on where Gojo was at all.

‘He probably is buying snacks or something ha?’

“Now it ain’t just the two of us ha Megumi?” you playfully asked your boyfriend as you poked his cheek, leading him to send you a side glance only for a giggle to be your response. Although it was a small interaction, Itadori was able to instantly pick up on something that confused him slightly.

“L/N, why did you call Fushiguro by his first name and not his family one?” Itadori asked in curiosity as he wondered how you were really friendly with the usually grumpy sorcerer. Turning to look at your new classmate, you smiled at him and quickly answered by saying, “no reason really, he just allowed me to since we’re really good friends,”.

Knowing Fushiguro, you knew he probably didn’t want to reveal the fact that you and him were in a relationship to Itadori too early into his newfound friendship with him, so you decided that it was the best for now to tell your new classmate that you two were really good friends.

On the other hand, what you didn’t see was how Fushiguro was looking at you. The shikigami user really appreciated the fact that you weren’t the type to tell the whole world about the both of you since he was a person that thought that not everyone needed to know if he was in a relationship or not leading to a small smile to dawn his face with a hint of adoration in his eyes as he stared at you.

Which was caught by the sights of Itadori Yuji.

                                             ꕥ

However in his sights right now was not the same expression Fushiguro had that day. But how he wished it was. All Itadori could see right now was fear, desperation and regret in Fushiguro’s emerald eyes as he was holding onto your body like he was gripping the small amount of life that you could possibly have left in your body.

“Please don’t leave me,” Fushiguro muttered in a brittle tone, as he gently shook you, not giving up on the fact that you could have a chance of waking up. Not giving up the chance that he gets to see your beautiful eyes. Not giving up the chance that he gets to see your bright smile. Not giving up on the chance that he gets to see you alive.

“I’m sorry for not protecting you, please just wake up, I can’t lose you too,” Fushiguro begged as sorrowful tears began to lightly hit your cheeks with his throat slowly closing up leading to a slight struggle in breathing. Fushiguro slowly and regrettably came to the realisation that you were now gone, leading to a river of guilt that uncontrollably began to flow down to which caused the grade two sorcerer let out a pained scream as his friends from behind looked at the scene with a broken heart.

Gripping on to your body, Fushiguro held your body against his chest and his face was hidden in the crook of your head wanting to hold you for one last time before you were fully taken away from him.

“Hey….Mimi”

Now he was hallucinating. Fushiguro was now hearing your voice as if you were calling out to him. He couldn’t help but fully accept that fact that you were dead and there was no chance you could possibly be calling out his nickname that he hated so much but was so desperate to hear again if he could.

Suddenly to his shock, Fushiguro felt a light but tight grip on his school jacket leading him to slowly pull away with widening eyes to a hand on his jacket causing him to look up to notice your eyes slowly begin to open, showcasing the coloured orbs that the shikigami user was so desperate to see.

“Mimi….it’s really hard to….concentrate using reverse curse energy….when you’re tightly gripping on to me,” you slowly commented with a small smile on your face, to which then you slowly began to sit up only to fall back into his arms due to exhaustion of using a magnitude of your curse energy to heal the injury that the special curse managed to wound you with.

“Y/N!” everyone shouted, as they crouched down to have a clear view of what they were seeing. To their complete astonishment, you were fully awake with a smile on your face leading everyone’s hearts to fill with joy as they were relieved that you were here right in front of them alive and well.

Kugisaki couldn’t help but instantly let tears of complete joy flow down her cheeks as she launched herself on top of you, tightly hugging you close to her releasing all the agonising tension that she was holding in the second she saw your once lifeless body in Fushiguro’s arms.

Gently lifting up one of your arms to Kugisaki’s body to comfort her, you slowly turned your head to stare up at the pair of emerald eyes that were looking at you with such relief and radiance, leading to your other hand that was previously gripping his jacket to then be placed on his cheek as you used your thumb to caress it to help him slowly come back to reality.

To be honest, you could tell he needed it right now. At the beginning of the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, you, Fushiguro and Kugisaki were utterly dumbfounded at the fact that Itadori was alive and well after 2 months of assuming that he was dead after Sukuna ripped out his heart and now you somehow you ‘came back alive’ after sustaining a serious injury of your neck being slashed - you knew seeing two people being revived was not what you saw every day.

“I’m sorry for scaring you like that,” you whispered to Fushiguro as you lightly brushed the remaining tears he had on his cheek leading to the stoic sorcerer to softly place his forehead against yours as he began to savour the warmth that he thought he had lost.

“Thank you,’ Fushiguro muttered as he closed his eye tightly, holding in the new coming tears that were threatening to flow down leading to your hand that was on his cheek to be now placed on the back of his neck as your fingers began to caress his hair to help calm him down even further.

“Thank you for staying”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[joinuganda42]

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[jlalafics]

“Rent Control”-an Everlark AU

So I wrote an story based on this picture...

Enjoy!

Summary: Katniss Everdeen has found the perfect home in San Francisco—great neighborhood, an easy commute and, best of all, it’s rent controlled. There’s only one problem; the landlord will only rent to a married couple.

Enter Peeta Mellark.

 Rent Control

“No…” Katniss scrolled down the ad on Craigslist, checking out the pictures of the apartment. The place was…small. She could live with that. However, the dimly lit bathroom and the questionable safety of the building’s laundry room were enough for her to click away from the ad. “Okay, onto the next one—”

“Katniss! Your break is over!” Johanna, her boss, called out from the front. “We need you!”

Locking her phone, she slipped it into the pocket of her jeans and stepped out of the backroom. Johanna was waiting for her at the cash register, an impatient smile on her red-stained lips.

“Johanna, there’s no one here…” The clothing boutique was empty except for the two women whose feet she could see behind their fitting room doors.

“Yeah, but I need to go!” Johanna bounced to emphasize her desperation. Katniss chuckled before waving her away. “Check on them, won’t you?”

Nodding, Katniss went to the dressing room area. “How is it going, ladies? Do you need any different sizes? Anything you want to get rid of?”

“Oh, yes!” A light voice called out as a pretty, light-haired woman peeked her head out and smiled at Katniss. “I don’t think I’m really into this.” She handed Katniss the simple black shift dress. “I’m just not into such basic colors!”

“No problem,” Katniss replied. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“My husband has a work event,” the woman explained. “It’s kind of high-brow and techie as all of San Francisco seems to be. Black seemed like the obvious choice.”

“It’s formal, right?” The voice in the room to Katniss’ right responded. “I thought black would work on you.”

“I know, Alma,” the woman in front of her said. “It’s just not me though.”

“It doesn’t look great with your coloring, to be honest,” Katniss told her. “You would do well with a jewel tone.” She walked over to one of the racks close by and pulled out the dress that she had been admiring since it was delivered to the boutique. “Would you consider this?”

Katniss held out the fuchsia dress for the woman to examine. It was floor-length with flutter sleeves and a flowing skirt. The top has a modest V-neck with a gold band underneath the ribcage.

The woman clapped excitedly. “Yes! It’s perfect! Thank you…”

“Katniss,” she told the woman. “Give that a go and I’ll check back in a few minutes.”

The dress turned out to be perfect and Katniss was thrilled as she rung the woman up. The Michael Kors dress would add a little more to her commission—she needed it.

As soon as the two women left, Johanna walked over and gives Katniss a congratulatory clap on the back.

“Want to grab us some coffee?” her boss asked. “I know you want to see your friend.” Johanna waggled her perfectly penciled brows at Katniss.

“You’re too much.” Katniss grabbed the credit card from Johanna’s hand. “But I can’t afford coffee so I’ll take you up on a freebie!”

++++++

“My favorite shop girl!”

“God Peeta, you make my job sound as pathetic as it actually is,” Katniss growled. “And, that’s coming from a guy who just stands around and makes coffee.”

“But, I do it with a smile,” her friend replied with a charming grin. “Chin up. How’s the apartment hunt going?”

“It’s not. Either I’m looking at an apartment where I’m sure someone’s been murdered or it’s in a decent neighborhood but I’m practically sleeping sitting up. Fucking techies!”

“Hey, they pay for this overpriced coffee!” Peeta argued.

“But they’ve jacked up the rent…” she whined. “I’m going to have to move back home if I don’t find a place soon.” Her parents lived in her childhood home in a neighborhood south of nowhere.

“I’m right there with you,” her friend told her. “My landlord is upping the rent in three months.” Peeta handed her usuals, a vanilla latte for her and a triple espresso for Johanna. “Hopefully, this will get you through the end of your shift—on me.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Katniss said gratefully and without a thought, she leaned over the counter to press a kiss to the man’s cheek.

Before she ends up embarrassing herself even further, Katniss rushed out of the coffee shop.

Thank God, Johanna didn’t see that.

She would never hear the end of it.

++++++

It was too good to be true.

Katniss read over the ad once more: $2800—1 bedroom, 1 bathroom in gorgeous Noe Valley. Spacious living room with fireplace, in-building washer/dryer. Must agree to one-year lease for rent-controlled price as well as meet landlord’s tenant requirements.

Below the ad was the address for the building as well as the date for the open house which happened to be today of all days—which happened to be her day off! This was more than generous for rent; it was practically median rent on Treasure Island.

The doors of the MUNI lightrail opened and she stepped down quickly to get to the sidewalk. The building was a block from her stop and Katniss hurriedly rushed in the appropriate direction. Hopefully, no one had taken the unit yet, though she could imagine that this ad would bring many desperate renters to the building.

Her gaze reached the brick building and Katniss stopped abruptly to stare up. The building was beautiful; it had ivy covering one side…there were bay windows…a stained-glass front door…

“Shop girl!”

Whipping around, Katniss was surprised to see her favorite barista slowing down to meet her.

“Coffee boy…” She groaned and nodded at the building. “Don’t tell me that you’re looking at the same place!”

“It really is too good to be true,” Peeta replied good-naturedly. “It’s probably already taken.”

“The door is still open,” Katniss informed him. “…but I really need this place!”

“So do I!” His sweet cornflower-blue eyes suddenly went somber. “My roommate is moving out in two weeks. Kind of left me in a lurch.”

“Damn it.” Katniss bit her lip, her eyes again going to her hopefully soon-to-be place of residence. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt for both of us to look.”

Peeta nodded, a small smile brightening his handsome face. “Come on.” Putting an arm around her shoulders, they walked through the open door of the building. “It’s probably going to be a shithole, anyway.”

But it wasn’t.

As soon as they stepped into the foyer of the building with its marble floor and walked up to the mahogany staircase, Katniss knew that this was no ordinary building. The available apartment was on the second floor and together they ascended the stairs, reaching a white-washed hallway with a lone window at the end.

“Shit—we’re both going to like this place, aren’t we?” Peeta said, a grimace on his face.

“I guess it’s a fight to the death for it,” Katniss quipped as they walked into the open apartment.

Hardwood floors…bay windows overlooking Church Street…a gorgeous fireplace—she swept her hand over the mantle and found her fingers surprisingly dust-free. The landlord was a cleanly one; most of the places she had seen had been grimy. An open archway led into a nook where Katniss could imagine her humble IKEA table being set for Sunday breakfasts and the kitchen—neat with fairly-new appliances—had an island.

“Imagine how many loaves of bread I could bake in this oven,” Peeta murmured to himself.

“We are torturing ourselves,” she groaned.

“We’re not done yet.” Peeta took her hand and they went into the hallway adjacent to the entrance. The walls were painted white as well and they took a peek into the pristine bathroom with its clawfoot tub. “Seriously?”

“I can’t even look in the bedroom after this,” Katniss protested as her friend pulls her along.

The bedroom was immaculate; the afternoon light shone in through the wide windows and the opposite wall was a closet obviously made for someone of Carrie Bradshaw’s standards. Katniss could picture herself just lounging on her bed and catching up on her Netflix shows.

She looked to Peeta. “So, what do you think is the catch?”

He shrugged. “We might as well find out. The landlord is across the hallway.”

After a final wave to the dream apartment, they walked out just as the adjacent door opened and a disgruntled woman walked out.

The woman, impeccably dressed in her pantsuit, glared at them. “Good luck with them.”

“Ah, there’s the rub,” Katniss said to Peeta as he knocked on the door. “The landlord is a nightmare.”

“Now that’s a little harsh—” They turned to the dark-haired man before them, dressed casually in a flannel and worn jeans. “At least get to know me before hating my guts.” He widened the door for them. “Come in, come in…”

They stepped into the apartment; the sage-green walls and plush furniture immediately calmed Katniss’ senses. A record player crooned Creedence Clearwater Revival to the succulents that lined the windows.

“I’m Haymitch Abernathy,” the man said to them. “Owner of this humble abode. The wife is just grabbing more treats for potential couples.”

“Peeta Mellark.” Her friend held out his hand and Haymitch shook it firmly.

Katniss also reached out, shaking the man’s hand. “Katniss…you said couples?”

“The tenant requirement is that anyone living there must be married,” Haymitch stated. He settled down on the beige couch and reached for the glass on the apothecary coffee table. “How long have you two been hitched?”

Married?

And without thought or reason, Katniss found herself replying, “A year.”

She could practically feel Peeta’s stabbing stare.

“Hello, hello!” A familiar voice called out and they both turned to see a woman rushing over to them with a tray. The woman stopped and met her eyes. “Katniss?”

It was the Michael Kors dress…Katniss quickly pulled the memory of her holding the credit card of the woman in front of her.

“Effie…how did the dress go?” she asked congenially.

Effie beamed as she placed the tray of drinks on the coffee table, before sitting on the arm of the sofa next to Haymitch.

“It was a hit!” The woman looked between them. “I didn’t realize you were married.”

“Oh yeah…” Katniss nodded at the gob smacked man next to her. “This is my husband, Peeta…Mellark.”

She should really remember his last name.

“You two are adorable!” Effie gushed. “So young…but so were we—” She looked affectionately at her husband. “And here we are still tolerating each other.”

Haymitch smiled tenderly at his wife. “Well, you put up with me and that’s saying something.”

“Excuse me,” Peeta abruptly called out. “Out of curiosity, why just married couples?”

“We found that single renters tend to break their lease agreement within six months because they can’t afford the rent,” Effie explained. “And roommates often leave after awhile while non-married couples sometimes end up splitting up—it just becomes a mess. At least with a married couple, it’s two people who are bound by law and we can count on them being in the apartment for some time.”

“Longevity and loyalty are important to us,” Haymitch added, seriousness in his steel-eyed stare. “The people in this building are like our family. So, we’re very protective about who we let in.”

“That is definitely important,” Katniss replied. She looked to a stone-faced Peeta before beginning her appeal for the dream apartment. “We would love to be considered. Obviously, you know that I work at Johanna’s and Peeta works in the coffee house next door. We’ve been at our jobs for more than a year. We can get paystubs as proof of income—”

“I have a feeling about you two,” Effie said. She looked to her husband who nodded in agreement. “Pending the deposit and if you two agree, we would love for you to make your home here.”

++++++

“Are you insane?” As soon as they stepped out of the building, Peeta turned to her. “Why would you say we’re married?”

“I don’t know!” Katniss exclaimed. “It just happened.” She peered at him. “You’re not married already, are you?”

“No!” He burst out. “But still—you didn’t need to lie.”

“Tell me where you’re going find a place and price like that,” Katniss pointed out. “Might as well move to Treasure Island.”

They walked away from their future home. “So, what are we supposed to do now?”

“We pretend,” she told him bluntly. “And after a year when we’ve saved a little bit more money, we move out or just say we’re splitting up.”

“And, you think this is going to work?”

“It does or we’re homeless,” Katniss replied.

They walked in silence towards the lightrail island. When they reach her stop, Peeta turned to her.

“Fine. We do this,” he agreed. “One year.”

Katniss let out the sigh of relief. “Deal.” She took his hand. “You now have yourself a wife.”

Peeta chuckled quietly. “Just one thing.”

“Yes?”

“What’s your last name?”

++++++

One week later…

 “I seriously cannot believe you’re doing this,” Johanna muttered as they walk up the stairs leading up to San Francisco City Hall. “I know that you’ve had a thing for Peeta—but pretending to be married to get an apartment? That’s just wrong.”

“It’s not like that. All of us aren’t like you,” Katniss replied as she held her bag open for security before walking through the metal detector. “We didn’t get a house from a divorce.”

“I earned that house!” Johanna followed suit through the metal detector. “Do you know how many blowies I gave him before he decided that it was my fault that he couldn’t get it up? I can stick the hard end of a banana in the back of my throat and feel nothing.” The security guard chuckled as he handed Johanna her purse back. “Tell me that’s not devotion.”

“That is a little more than I needed to know about my boss.” Katniss reached into her purse and pulled out the fragile hairpiece. It had been lying in her drawer since she moved to California. “Can you help me?”

“Give it.” Johanna takes the hairpiece, clipping it on each side of Katniss’ raven waves. She arranged the lace so that it subtly brushed her cheekbones. “This is gorgeous.”

“It was my grandmother’s,” she said quietly. “Her and Gramps married during the war. It’s the one thing she left me after she died…I hate to think that it’s being used for something not real.”

Johanna placed her hands on Katniss’ shoulders, her eyes affectionately concerned.

“So, for now, pretend that this is real. Most marriages turn out to be shams, anyway—and you get a smoking-hot husband out of it.”

Katniss snorted. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

A wolf-whistle cut across the air, echoing throughout the main floor, and she turned to find Peeta in a grey suit approaching her. A tall, dark-skinned man followed behind him dressed in a navy suit.

“Mrs. Mellark…” Peeta slowed in front of her, looking over her fitted lace dress before meeting her veil-eyed gaze. “You clean up nice.”

“That’s what happens when you work in the best clothing boutique in San Francisco,” Katniss replied, her hands reaching to adjust his red tie. “You clean up nice, too.”

“That’s so cute,” the man behind Peeta said with an amused smile. “Y’all are already taking care of each other.”

“This is Cinna, my soon-to-be ex-roommate,” Peeta informed Katniss. “He’s ditching me for New York, but I don’t blame him since his cushy executive job is paying for his flat.”

“Nice to meet you,” Katniss said and shook the man’s hand. “I guess it worked out in my favor that you were leaving.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” Cinna replied. “Peeta showed me the apartment. What a sweet deal for San Francisco! I wouldn’t mind pretending to be married to this guy for such a place.”

Johanna coughed and Katniss pulled her forward. “This is Johanna, my boss and pretend MOH.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Johanna said. “And, thanks for the coffees, Peeta.”

“No problem,” Peeta replied. He looked around at the crowded floor. “Should we get on with this?”

Katniss nodded. “Right.”

Together, they walked to the wide staircase that led to the mayoral offices. It was a popular spot for ceremonies and pictures. There were already several couples taking their post-ceremony photos.

Cinna reached into his pocket, taking out a small digital camera. “Let’s get you two together.”

Awkwardly, Peeta took her hand as Katniss pressed herself against him.

“Is this alright?” she asked Cinna.

“No. You look like you’re having an edema,” Johanna said bluntly as Cinna chuckled in agreement. “Come on, make me believe that you’ve seen each other naked!”

Several couples stopped to stare at them.

“Alright!” Katniss wove her arms around Peeta’s neck as he pulled her close, his strong arms encircling her waist. Through the lace of her dress, she could feel his heart pounding and she met his sweet blues. “You okay, Mr. Mellark?”

Peeta grinned and the breath suddenly left her body. He really was a good-looking man.

She could never get someone like him in real life.

He leaned forward, their lips a breath apart. “I’m perfect…Mrs. Mellark.”

“We got it!” Cinna called out.

Johanna looked over Cinna’s shoulder at the picture on the camera’s screen, nodding in approval.

“Not bad…not bad at all.”

Together, she and Peeta sighed in relief.

They could do this…this was after all for the perfect apartment.

“We’re not done yet,” Cinna told them. “We still have a year’s worth of your marriage to document.” He smirked, looking at the photos—some good, some awkward. “These are going to look good. You better name your first fake baby after me.”

++++++

Effie had been there to meet them at their front door a week later. Haymitch couldn’t take the time off to join them as Effie informed the couple that he was stuck in meetings for the startup he was managing.

“I have no idea about those sorts of things,” she said as she held out their key. “Why don’t you give it a try? If there’s an issue, we can just hop down the block to the hardware store on the corner.”

Peeta took the key, inserting it into the bolt and turning it easily. “Looks like we’re good to go.” He opened the door and turned to Katniss. “Before we go in—”

He quickly scooped her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck, mostly out of fear of faceplanting on their new floors.

“What are you doing?”

“This is our home now,” Peeta said, giving her a winning smile. Behind them, Effie cooed. “I have to carry you over the threshold.” He leaned closer to her ear. “We’re supposed to be in love, aren’t we? Just go with it.”

Katniss nods before placing a light kiss on his lips. He started at the motion and something inside her bellowed in triumph at the thought of making him come undone.

“Well then, carry me over, Mr. Mellark. We have a lot of unpacking to do.”

Together, Peeta entered their place before placing Katniss gently back on her feet.

He winked. “I’ll start bringing in the boxes.”

Nodding, she went to open some of the bags that they were able to store in the apartment before their official move. Effie and Haymitch were generous for allowing them to do this.

“Is that your wedding photo?”

Katniss turned to see Effie behind her, her gaze on the black-and-white photo that she had just placed on the mantle.

“Yes. It was a small wedding,” she explained. “My family is all the way in Connecticut and Peeta’s family is in D.C. so they weren’t able to make it. The whole idea of getting married was very spur-of-the-moment.”

“Really?” Effie was an obvious romantic, though Katniss found it an endearing. “Oh, to be young and so spontaneous. So, how did the proposal happen?”

“Well…uh…”

Shit. They never really came up with a story.

“Katniss was staying over at my place.” Peeta placed a box on the floor in front of them. “We were having breakfast and discussing what we should do that day. She suggested that we get to the mountain of laundry in my room—and I suggested that we get married.”

A snort escaped Katniss’ lips before she could stop it.

Effie’s bright eyes went wide and she looked to Katniss. “And, what did you say?”

“I kind of just said…sure,” she answered.

“It was more of a—” Peeta gave them a half-hearted shrug that looked believably like something she would do. “—followed by a less-than-enthusiastic ‘Sure.’” He put an arm around Katniss’ shoulders. “As if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to marry me.”

“You do love me.” Her head went to his shoulder. “Surly traits and all.”

In response, Peeta placed a kiss on her temple.  “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“You two are just too good to be real!” Effie exclaimed. “I’ll leave you to finish unpacking. Also, tomorrow we’ll be having a little get-together in the backyard so you can meet the neighbors. I think you’re going to fit in here perfectly.”

She smiled at them dreamily.

I’m just going to leave you to…christen your new place. Let me know if you need anything.”

With that, Effie closed the apartment door behind her.

“Did she give us permission to bone all over the apartment?”

Peeta smirked. “I’m game if you are.”

Katniss reached into an open box, throwing a cushion in his direction.

He chuckled, catching the cushion easily.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Going to her, Peeta pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Welcome home, Mrs. Mellark.”

 End of Part One…

 This, I hope, will only be a three-parter.

This was inspired by a meme about dating in the Bay Area. Also, I’ve been watching Tales of the City on Netflix.

The current average rate for an one-bedroom apartment rental in San Francisco is $3,609, while rent in the neighborhood of Noe Valley runs at about $3,206. The lowest rental rate is in Treasure Island, which is the halfway point across the Bay Bridge, and is $2,616.

Just some food for thought on how ridiculous it is to live in the Bay Area…but damn do I love living here.

Next: Meeting the neighbors

Till then, JLaLa

[mrblainerson]

Across the crowded room | Blainchel

“Tris, hurry up, the car’s waiting down stairs!” Her voice echoed in his wide loft while she was standing in front of the windows. The view from up there was breath taking and even though she had been a real New Yorker for a couple of years already, it would never cease to amaze her. Her stylist who had just left told her about the car that would take the couple to the gala, a white Tesla that belonged to Tristan’s friend. Once she let go of the roof tops and sunset, she looked down and noticed the white car, parked near the entrance of the building.

She heard nothing but the clicking of his fingers typing furiously on the keyboard from his bedroom, where he got ready while she occupied the living room. She walked towards the French doors and leaned to the side so her head would appear in the opening. “Tristan, please. You know that I hate being late and if you keep doing whatever captivates you, we’ll arrive last.” Rachel did not even bother to hear him respond with his traditional frustrated groan. When she was the one wanting to go out, it always ended up like this: she would force him until he gave up and she would watch him have the time of his life from the side only to hear him lecture her about his so-called freedom to decide what he wanted to do. There were times where she had the feeling she was dating a spoiled brat, well, exactly like her.

She held on to the delicate fabric of her see-through and expensive dress as they made it to the elevator. She dared to look up at him and found him texting again, so she pressed the button to get down to the hall and sighed, not that he would mind about it or even ask her what was wrong. By the time they reached the front door, a couple of photographs waited outside by the car and the entrance. Tristan did not need a bodyguard or someone to keep the cameras away, but she had always felt safer knowing there was a strong man around, and even if he knew this he did not remember hiring one. She inhaled deeply and slid her hand in his, photos always looked better when they were showing a little affection. The man who once was grumpy and silent turned into a friendly and approachable man who took time to pose, making sure his face would look good in all angles tomorrow when he would look through his Facebook feed in search of the newest posts by newspapers and magazines.

It would be a lie if Rachel said she did not like the sudden spotlight she gained when they confirmed publicly their relationship. The hype around their new play was undeniable and there was not a day without seeing a man taking a photo of her, walking to the grocery store or to the rehearsals. She, in fact, loved it. She was shining, hopefully as bright as he was. And people cared about her life and what she was up to: one of her dreams did come true every time she would read a new article about her. The symphony of flashing lights and people shouting their names continued when they got out of the car. Their ride was quiet, as their ritual implied. They would save the best conversation topics for their friends and fellow celebrities. They were always looking forward to stalk through their Instagram and read the captions of whoever shared a picture with them: charming, lovely, beautiful, pleasing, awesome, fun and talented were the most common words they would see.

Rachel nervously touched her hair, that were tightly held in a bun, as she glanced around the crowded room, searching for a friend or a former colleague. She found a dancer from Funny Girl’s revival and gave her a warm wave, before walking up to her, she left a soft kiss on Tristan’s cheek who laid his eyes on her for one of the first times of the evening. She was not sure if he told her she looked amazing or if he was simply talking about something else, but she left his company to walk gracefully to the other side. She grabbed a fragile glass of rosé, her favorite wine, and was greeted by the dancer. However, her attention was drifted somewhere else. On her way to the table where waiters and baristas waited patiently, she heard a familiar name, heard a familiar laughter and saw the only face she was not expecting to see that night: Blaine.

It had been weeks since they last talked, since she left the apartment they shared to move in with Tristan, not long after she received the confirmation they were both cast in that new drama. Things went at the speed of light. It felt like yesterday when she pulled her suitcase full of her belongings out of the place she called home. It felt like yesterday since they kissed for the last time, laughed and simply enjoyed spending the night awaken to read about new plays on Broadway blogs. It felt like yesterday, yet, it all happened so long ago. She caught herself hoping he noticed her among the sea of loud celebrities gathered for this event. She missed hearing his voice, she missed being around him. She missed him.

“Focus, Rachel.” She said to herself, emptying the glass of alcohol in one shot as if it was some cheap cocktail. She needed to focus on the evening, on talking and on posing for a picture. She needed to focus on remembering her seat for the next part of the gala, she needed to focus on Tristan. Yes, Tristan, who looked handsome in his usual black suit with a scarf that matched the slightly golden lines of the chest part of her dress. Tristan, who she would be sitting next to for remaining time. Tristan, with whom she’d be watching sports match until he would fall asleep when the alcohol he drank would evaporate from his body. That was what she needed to think about and it seemed to work, but not for long.

One of the people who organized the gala climbed on the stage and expressed a well-rehearsed speech, which ended by asking people to sit according to the number on the tables that there had been previously assigned. The tables were circular and placed around the stage, a bit like some big cinema and television award shows that encouraged famous people to get to know one other, but also made it easier to look somewhere else without acting weird. And that was exactly what Rachel did, the entire time, she sat by the table, with Tristan absentmindedly stroking her thigh up and down as he chat with another man sitting besides them, a producer. Blaine was only a couple of seats away and, for Rachel, this was way too close. She could not keep her eyes off of him, of his beautiful smile, of how good-looking he was. He was glowing, he seemed to be doing fine. It comforted the part of her that was worried he would cry over someone as selfish and stupid as her, but it hurt the other part; the one who would have given up anything only to be sitting next to him.

The brunette shook lightly her head when the noise of clapping was transformed into chairs scratching the wooden floor and of people walking away. The speech was that short or… That was true, she did not listen to it one bit. She slid her phone out of her purse to look at the time: it lasted something like forty minutes. Forty minutes of obsessive staring in her ex’s direction. “Where are you going, Tris?” The short, blonde haired man was pulling on her hand as he was heading towards a group of people. A group of people that was sitting three tables away from them, a group of people who were standing only a couple of inches away from him.

Perhaps it was simply how the gold detail of her dress reflected against her skin but Blaine was sure that Rachel’s skin had never been so tanned, as though she had just stepped off the plane from a tropical island vacation or perhaps had spent a better part of the summer in the Hamptons. However, he knew it wasn’t the case, his eyes tentative and careful as he allowed himself a few more selfish glances in her direction. Rachel Berry was one of the hardest working women he knew and with that he knew that she would be the last person to spend “down time” at a beach. Frankly, between the dance classes and vocal lessons that she would often schedule in between auditions Blaine wasn’t convinced that the girl even knew the definition of the phrase “down time”.

Dinner had been a pleasant distraction and Blaine had found himself easily enthralled in conversation with a few of the guests placed at his table. However, Rachel still lingered in the back of his mind, having now lost her in the crowd of guests he couldn’t help but wonder how he would present himself should he spot her again. He should say something, shouldn’t he? Wracking his brain for what that something might be. Ask about her new show, her new apartment, her new life since their break up? Perhaps he did approach her, what was the appropriate salutation? Did he start with a hug or was that too familiar? A hand shake? No, definitely too formal. Catching sight of one of the bar staff travelling the room with a fresh tray of drinks now that dinner service had concluded he made a motion to secure himself a glass of bubbling liquid and tip it to his lips in hopes of easing his ever growing anxiety.

It helped, feeling the tingling sensation of carbonation on his tongue he let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding, his shoulders loosening before he was waved back into conversation with a few of his dinner table mates. Surrounded by producers, actors and composures alike all thriving in the industry he had once imagined himself to be a part of, the conversation was thrilling, finding it easy to let time pass and Rachel slip back into the far reaches of him mind. It would be easier to enjoy the night that way, rather than to focus on the dull pain that lingered from their break-up, the pain that he had learned to deal with for the past several months. However, almost out of nowhere he watched the eyes of those around them, their smiles brighten at the notion of someone new joining their ring of conversation. Before he knew it, Tristian Archer had stepped into view, immediately recognizing him as the rapidly rising Broadway performer that he was and quickly in tow was none other than the woman he had been trying to forget, Rachel Berry.

“Lovely.” He muttered under his breath, his tone still light and a smile still on his lips which allowed his words to wash away in the midst of the excitement, thanks to the new addition of the couple. “Can’t you just feel their chemistry?” a violinist who had been shamelessly flirting with him mentioned as Tristian and Rachel exchanged pleasantries with a few other guests close by. “You know, I saw their play and you just,” Blaine’s eyes scanned for a waiter passing by, quickly switching out his empty glass for a new full one, “you just can’t fake that kind of passion, don’t you agree?” she continued, though Blaine had long since lost interest.

[meetedgar-blog]

What to Say on Social Media: 10 Talk-Worthy Topics

New Post has been published on http://blog.meetedgar.com/201308what-to-say-on-social-media-10-talk-worthy-topics/

What to Say on Social Media: 10 Talk-Worthy Topics

Okay, solopreneurs and small business owners – we know you’re busy. Like, busy-busy.

You’ve got inventory to manage, networking events to rock, and work to be done – 24/7/365.

With everything you’ve got going on, it’s super easy for things to slip through the cracks. Even pretty important things – like your social media.

Social media is an easy and powerful way to connect with your customers, increase traffic to your website, reach new audiences and fans, generate leads, manage customer service, and – perhaps most importantly – up your thought leadership game.

But social media can feel like a distraction from “real work.” The truth is that social media has never been more important to businesses – especially small businesses.

According to a recent survey from Manta, social media is actually the single most popular tactic on which small businesses spend their money.

In the same survey of marketing tactics, 51% of small business owners said they most rely on social media to grow their business – more than email marketing, display ads, and direct mail, and PR combined.

Source: Manta.com

The reason why social media is so popular for small business owners is simple: Social media levels the playing field. It gives everyone a chance to get noticed on a global scale and to compete with the “big guys” for thought leadership. After all, going viral has little do to with your earnings and a lot to do with your message.

Plus, 78% of consumers say that a company’s social media posts influence their buying decisions.

In other words: spending time on social media is totally worth it.

So! What’s the state of your social media?

One of the biggest reasons people give for not being more engaged on social media is that they feel like they don’t have anything to talk about.

“What do I share?”

“Who cares what I’m eating?”

“Who wants to hear my opinions?”

“Who honestly can’t believe it’s not butter?”

These are all good questions! And you definitely don’t want to churn out lackluster content – nor pushy, sales-y stuff that just sounds spammy. You want your social media posts to be interesting, helpful, real, and (importantly) shareable.

If you’re struggling to give your social media the attention it deserves, try these 10 share-worthy thought starters.

What to Say on Social Media: 10 Talk-Worthy Topics

1. Things you treasure. It doesn’t matter how big or small your business is, people love “insider” warm-fuzzies. Posting about what makes you smile introduces you (as a real live human being) to your brand or business.

So, what makes you smile? What keeps you going after a long day? Whether it’s spiritual and personal growth stuff, yummy foods that you make (or eat!), or funny things your kids say – chances are things that lift your spirits will lift the spirits of your fans, too!

2. Things that inspire you. Even a brand or a company can be inspirational – but, as with Topic #1 – it starts with you.

Where do you go to affirm your inner greatness? What sparks your creativity and pushes you (or your business) to innovate? Do you look to art? Music? A favorite author? Leaders in your space? Post about where you go to get motivated to make things happen!

3. Favorite tools you use to make your life easier. You know what everyone appreciates? Literally anything that makes ANY TASK THAT EVERYONE DOES BUT NOBODY REALLY LIKES TO DO easier. (Edgar was founded by an entrepreneur as a better way to save time on social media – making life easier is literally why we exist.)

So what are you using that make your everyday extra nice? Astronaut pen? An ergonomic chair?

What are the online tools and software that keep your business humming, save hours of your day, and keep your brand up-to-date? Let your fans know how the things that make your life easier bring value into your life or business.

4. Bragging rights. This sort of ties back to Topic #2 – providing inspiration to your fans. But it’s you doing the inspiring yourself!

This can feel really uncomfortable at first, but the internet is a big place, and being modest is not a sustainable marketing strategy. So share your accomplishments! It shows your customers that you kinda rock and it shows your fans how to rock.

LOVED talking to @Groove about how we do things at @MeetEdgar! How we grew to $100k revenue/mo. in under a year: https://t.co/Qg5CMQfFi7

— Laura Roeder (@lkr) March 13, 2017

Did you help a client face her fear of asking for a raise? Tell people! Is your schedule booked for the next two months? Brag about it!

5. Other peoples’ stuff. That old saying about not reinventing the wheel? It’s basically social media’s unofficial motto. If someone you follow posts an amazing article or provides unique value to you – through insights, analysis, or just plain amazing products – share that goodness with your fans!

What newsletters do you always read? What blogs do you subscribe to? What events or products are your peers producing? What website offers great content for your community or industry?

6. You couldn’t stop laughing because… Everyone needs a good laugh pretty much every single day. Laughter is kind of amazing, because it’s one of those universal things that takes you out of your head and plants you firmly in the present. It lends perspective, it breaks up the day, and when it’s “contagious,” laughter really is the best medicine.

Funny stuff – that’s not at the expense of others, of course – is almost always a worthwhile share on social media. Search on YouTube for a funny video, or find a photo or GIF that cracks you up. Here’s a great example:

7. Ask questions. Get curious about your community and your industry! It doesn’t have to be about your work – focus on getting to know who you are connected with on your social media profiles.

What are their thoughts about current affairs? What are they doing this weekend? How do they manage family and work life? What books are on their nightstands or e-readers?

8. Witty musings. You know those strange and lovely things that happen to us in life? Like that time that guy took up three seats on the train for his phone, briefcase, and shoes so unashamedly that you weren’t even mad. Or that time a butterfly landed perfectly on your window the moment you were thinking about something special. Or that morning the barista drew Cookie Monster’s face in your latte.

Close enough

Moments like these show your human side, and give others a chance to connect with you through a common trait: being human.

9. Places or products you love. Where did you get your hair cut? What is your favorite “I’m not cooking tonight” restaurant? Did your insurance agent go above and beyond? Did your cell phone company correct an error they made? (Wait… does this actually happen?)

Sharing your interactions with other businesses is a simple and lovely way to build community and create fans from whole new audiences.

10. Promote your stuff! Earning a profit from your business is important, so don’t be afraid to share your goods too!

Revive those old blog posts from last year, and share ’em again and again for new people to discover. Take quotes from your book. Tell people about your next event, or that you’re open for one more coaching client, or you’re speaking on a podcast as an expert in your field.

Share about the services you offer – but in balance with the other nine items on this list. The point is to nurture a connection with like-hearted people who will love following you and your business – all because of you!

It’s been a little while since we first published this post, and we’ve added a couple of new ideas to our list! Here are two more talk-worthy topics we’ve been having fun with lately:

11. Shout-outs to our team. We occasionally feature our team members on Instagram to give people a chance to put a face to a name when they interact with our company. (And yes, we still totally love Instagram, even though they don’t allow tools like Edgar to post for you.)

Just our Head of Operations, being adorable, and chillin with the team ❤🤗!

A post shared by Edgar (@meetedgar) on Nov 4, 2016 at 11:46am PDT

12. Behind the scenes stuff. Giving social media followers a peek into the day-to-day life of everyone who makes MeetEdgar possible is a fun and impactful way to put a human face on a fully distributed company like ours!

There are a few things we care about as much as providing amazing service to our customers, and one of those things is volunteering! Everyone who works for team Edgar gets an entire day, every quarter, to dedicate to #volunteer work of their choice!

A post shared by Edgar (@meetedgar) on Jan 9, 2017 at 7:02am PST

One of the things our “behind the scenes” posts focus on is showcasing our values (which we’re darn proud of!) and how those values impact the way we do business.

What talk-worthy topics have you been experimenting with lately?

Let us know what’s been working for you in the comments below!

[retrobassgirl]

Water Under the Bridge

It’s early January 2017.

It’s over five months post Pride, post Manchester Pride. Pride here is a four day event in late summer. It may be feel like Midwinter now but I find the aftermath of Pride is a little like January. What appears as the highlight of the year here seems like the end of one Queer Year and the beginning of another. The firework display which marked the finale of Pride is like a noisy, glittering full stop. Thereafter all seems quiet but also restless. The Autumn and Winter has been for me a time for reflection and it set me thinking about the past year and even Pride itself.

Not far from where I now live in New Islington is a steep little bridge across the Rochdale Canal. It lies at the end of Henry Street. So much water has quite literally gone under that bridge this year and, metaphorically, in my life: Over 14 months ago I finally got married. It had been a long time coming. Transhistoried women normally dream of life changing events like that, seldom do they actually happen. Growing up with hatred and censure doesn’t exactly stop dreams of big white dresses and saying ‘I do’ to the man of your dreams. It does limit your chances though. That I found happiness and enjoyed a fairytale wedding seems a miracle; a win on the Transgender Lottery and a dream come true.

I’ve blogged so little since my big day and said almost nothing about the wedding itself. That needs to be a post on its own I think. All you need to know for now is that my marriage to Mart, my husband, was here in Manchester. It took place in the beautiful Britannia Hotel on Portland Street. My childhood dream had been to marry a Prince in a palace. Well, hopeless Teen Dream box ticked. The architecture of the Britannia Hotel is copied from a Venetian Palazzo, Il Fondaco di Turchi.

Getting married in Manchester where I first went to College was also a promise to myself and my husband that one day I would return to live there again. Like my wedding dreams, I seemed to have no hope of realising that promise. Working as a Teaching Assistant in North Wales, I did not earn enough to return; apartment rents can run at over £1,200 a month. City dwelling comes at a price; too high a price.

Opportunities are a much misunderstood concept. I barely understood them myself for so long. I had the impression that they required planning, strict control, a clear vision and single minded dedication. In my experience the truth is somewhat different. Opportunities aren’t created, neither do they respond well to control. They are fragile, ephemeral, slippery things that shape shift if you try to seize them too tightly. Opportunities can be surfed and ridden and in doing so, they lose nothing of their power. They are thermals to soar and climb with but they require courage and a leap of faith to follow.

Earlier this year I was in a crisis. Since January it had become clear that my job was making me ill. Mounting work, non-replacement of staff and an employer who seemed no longer to care lead me downhill mentally and physically. I found myself having more and more time off work. Education is also an intensely difficult profession for a transhistoried woman to work in. Transphobia abounds in spite of policies and directives to the contrary. Those who see Trans as a lifestyle choice capable of corrupting young people are very prevalent. Some colleagues made my life intensely miserable. I was tolerated, period. Tolerance is NOT acceptance, ever.

I chose a career in education because it seemed the only opportunity I would ever have to nurture and support children. They were my substitute family and I poured all my caring and compassion into what I did. When, against the odds, I got a family, motherhood and later, a husband, I still persisted in that career, doggedly adhering to a script I had written out years ago. I had promised myself that one day I would break free and work for myself. It was all about ‘UNTIL’, I would stick where I was till I had enough money, time, expertise and will to exploit a different opportunity. The only compensation was being busy. In a job I hated, it made me feel important even if undervalued.

A friend wrote: ‘Stop the glorification of busy’.

Like so many things we value it is only when you relinquish ‘busy’ that you start living. Busy has little time for others, for compassion, art or pleasure. Fitting too much into too small a space isn’t clever. Beautiful things get squashed in the process. It occurred to me that it was time to chuck the 98% of useless, busy activity and do the good stuff well. Busy people are not good at surfing opportunities. I needed a way to let go, launch myself and fly.

In April this year, events forced me into action. A number of things happened in rapid succession. A workplace that should have supported me, chose instead to support malicious, transphobically motivated complaints. Apparently intelligent, right minded and respected individuals can sometimes have huge blindspots when it comes to gender variance. It is made worse when they employ you. Sometimes you stand and fight. In the past I have done that. In the present case, when I looked around at what I had, it occurred to me that there was little of value to fight for. It seemed better to walk away with dignity. In the end it was so easy to do.

I spoke of a number of things. Walking away from my job gave me courage to revive an old idea; the one of launching my own business. So many play with that idea but never try it. I too had turned it over for many years yet ‘busy’ and lack of courage had got in the way. I have a background in catering and waitressing which has languished unused too long. A trained barista, I am passionate about good coffee. I had wanted my own Coffee Shop in Manchester but there seemed way too many of them. In any case the rents and set up costs seemed beyond my means.

Cue the Empress; a tarot card with deep relevance to me and Giovanna my new Italian friend. Both however will have to wait until my next blog.

Huggs, Jane xx