#the other day i saw the clock at 1:30 and thought i had an hour until i had to leave to get somewhere at 2:00

[grxygreenrain]

ive just been made aware when people are agreeing with me about having brain fog theyre just saying... theyre tired?? My brain is failing and you're just a little eepy? man.

[lavendercharm]

Linger, Chapter 1: She's So Mean

Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.

Warnings: Strong Language

----

You’ve always been one to go above and beyond. Whether it was because you were truly an ambitious go-getter, or because it was actually rooted in a deep-seated fear of letting others down, who can say? What mattered was you were reliable. You did your best to stay organized and on top of things, despite the fact that you struggled with it. You thrived when it came to creative problem-solving. And you were never, ever late.

At least, that’s the mantra you repeated to yourself as you mentally practiced the apology you’d be giving Abbott Elementary’s principal. Glancing at the watch on your wrist as you burst through the front door, you curse under your breath. Arriving almost a full 45 minutes later than you were supposed to was not the way to make the first impression you wanted. You’d been a bundle of nerves the night before, prepping the following day’s lunch as much as possible. You’d made a concerted effort to get to bed at a decent hour, you’d laid out your “first day subbing at a new school” outfit, and you’d even set a few different alarms in order to prevent this exact situation.

It might have slipped your attention that the alarms you’d set were actually for the PM.

The surge of adrenaline when you’d seen 7:02 AM blinking back at you from the digital clock on your bedside table as you woke was more effective than any cup of coffee. You were barely finished dressing before you were out the front door with your shoulder bag in tow - hair piled in an unkempt mess on your head and makeup, socks, and half-prepped lunch forsaken in your haste.

Mercifully, most subs had pre-planned lessons to follow, so you didn’t have to worry about throwing off your student’s schedules too much today. But seeing as this was your first day at Abbott, you weren’t familiar with the building layout. Even worse, you’d never met the principal, which means you have no idea what kind of reaction to expect in regard to your tardiness.

You knew students started to arrive at Abbott at 7:30 for an 8 o’clock start to the day, and you’d been instructed to arrive no later than 7:15. You looked up from your watch to get your bearings in the unfamiliar environment. Just up the hall from the doors you entered, you saw an office with glass walls and what looked like a check in area where there stood a tall, stunning black woman.

She was dressed stylishly, shockingly so for someone who works in an elementary school. A form-fitting olive green dress hugged her curves, which were emphasized by the large brown belt around her waist. Her hair was long and looked right from a salon, her nails meticulously cared for. She wore red lipstick and her eye makeup could easily be seen on the cover of a magazine. Her face was buried in her phone, so she hadn’t noticed you enter the building. You approached her, your hectic morning creating a distinctly frazzled air around you.

You felt silly and underdressed standing next to her, your normally put-together appearance ditched in favor of time. You silently thanked your past self for having the foresight to lay out your clothes for the day. Even still, your plain black work trousers, white button-down, and sneakers felt distinctly out of place next to this woman. As you stood there, she didn’t look up from her phone.

Unsure what else to do, after a moment you made yourself known by clearing your throat. Without looking up from her phone, a single, sculpted brow raised in question, followed by a short, “What do you want?”

Taken aback, you stuttered, “I-I, uh, I’m the principal- I mean, I’m looking for the principal.” You felt heat rising in your cheeks at your mistake. ‘Good one,’ you thought.

At least your slip-up gained you some ground. The woman lowered her phone and glanced at you, giving you a once-over from head to toe. “What do you want with the principal? If you’re here to complain about something, you’ll have to send it in an email or Instagram DM, she’s on vacation.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach - the principal wasn’t even here? You weren’t sure if Abbott had a vice principal. You were already late, you didn’t know where you were supposed to go, and you weren’t sure if the vaguely-unfriendly woman in front of you would be able to help.

“Oh, actually I’m a sub-” you started.

You were cut off by a loud, “Oh! Well, why didn’t you say so? Why are you dressed like a waiter?”

You frowned. She was right. You did look like a waiter.

You were stunned as the woman’s entire demeanor changed. A large smile graced her features as she held out her hand. “Ava Coleman, principal of Abbott Elementary.” You stared at the outstretched hand before taking it, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Wait, did you just lie to my face about being on vacation?”

“Usually when someone introduces themself, you’re supposed to do it back. Unless you’re like Leo DiCaprio levels of famous, obviously,” she prompts you, entirely ignoring your question.

You give her your name, overwhelmed by the whirlwind that has been this morning and the whiplash of the woman’s sudden change in attitude. “Nice to meet you,” Ava says with a glowing smile as she releases your hand. “You know you’re late, right?”

You nod, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. All things considered, Ava didn’t seem upset, or even remotely reprimanding, for that matter. She might as well have been asking about the weather she was so nonchalant. Having braced yourself for a lecture or a raised voice, you found yourself feeling just the slightest bit relieved. “I’m sorry about that. This isn’t… it’s not the norm for me, I promise. It won’t happen again.”

“Girl, I am not pressed,” Ava says, brushing off your apology with a wave of her hand. “At least you showed up at all. Trying to get a sub lately has been like trying to get Taylor Swift tickets - a whole lot of waiting just to find out there aren’t any left.” She gives a cheesy grin at her own joke, not waiting for you to react before continuing, “You’ll actually be with another teacher. Her aide has appendicitis, she’s out for at least the next week and a half.”

You were surprised, not unpleasantly so. You’d expected to have your own room, but there were plus sides to subbing in for teaching aides. “Oh, okay. That will be good actually, I can get a feel for things and watch how she runs her class, maybe ask her for pointers,” you state as you start to follow Ava down the hall.

Ava glances back at you, a look you can’t quite discern in her eye. “Uh, yeah,” she said, entirely unconvincing. “I’m sure she’d love to share pointers. She’s been a teacher here for a long time, so she does stuff a certain way.”

Ava’s words reignite some of the anxiety you’d felt starting to dissipate. You thought having another teacher to lead the class and watch would be a good thing, but Ava is making it seem like this teacher would be difficult. You’d had plenty of old, strict, mean teachers as a student. When you first started subbing, you’d met a teacher at another school who went through teaching aides like Duracell batteries. She’d been in the same school for well over 35 years, so it was essentially her way or the highway. She was so strict and particular, most people ended up taking the highway.

Ava stopped at a door on the right side of the hall, and as she pulled the door open, you heard a chorus of tiny voices say, “Good morning Miss Schemmenti!” At least you’d managed to make it before any actual instruction began.

Popping her head in the room, you heard Ava say, “Melissa, you got a sub today.” A ripple of ‘oohs’ and giggles spread throughout the class. Kids were always interested in a new face.

“Oh really?” came a dulcet voice with the strongest Philly accent you’d heard in a minute. It was tinged with incredulity and annoyance. “A sub who can’t be bothered to show up on time?”

Your stomach churned with anxiety and shame, but you felt a slight spike of annoyance as well. You suppose you couldn’t blame her, but you hadn’t even met this woman yet. You pushed these feelings aside as best you could as Ava replied, “You’re lucky you got a sub at all girl. I didn’t have to put her in your class. You’re welcome!” Stepping aside, she gestures you into the room.

The first thing you notice is the sheer amount of kids crammed into one room. There’s a division in the center and one side seems to be slightly older. The confusion must be evident on your face, because Ava chimes in, “We lost a third-grade teacher last minute and we couldn’t afford another one, so we combined a second and third grade class. You get two for one! I love a good deal myself.” Her joke doesn’t land.

Two grades in one room was really unconventional. How could both classes be receiving the right instruction? You couldn’t wrap your brain around it. Either the second graders had to be feeling left behind, or the third graders were learning the same things they’d learned last year. Not to mention the number of kids presented a challenge itself. ‘There have to be close to thirty kids in this room!’ you thought.

The velvety voice from before chimed in, “You could at least try not to look overwhelmed. Jeez, how old are you anyway, kid? I’m not gonna be able to tell the difference between you and the students.” Some small giggles echoed around the room as you turned.

Whatever you had been expecting, this woman was not it. ‘Is everyone working in this school hot?’ you grimaced to yourself as your eyes took in the gorgeous red-headed woman who stood before you. She was older, which in your mind only enhanced her beauty. She was a few inches taller than you, although you noticed the heeled boots she wore. Her deep red hair was luscious, with soft waves begging to have fingers combed through them. A single eyebrow was raised and a decidedly unimpressed expression graced her face, a dusky rose color painting her pursed cupid's bow lips. Her nose was soft yet prominent - it suited her immensely. Her eyes were slightly close-set, a captivating green-hazel color. They were rimmed with a subtle smokey shadow that made them pop.

She had on a long-sleeved black shirt and a few necklaces decorated her collarbones. But what caught your attention most were the leather pants that clung tightly to her soft hips.

You’d always been a sucker for a woman in leather.

“You gonna acknowledge me or not? Do I need to get you a copy of the lesson plan, or a coloring sheet?” She asked, hands on her cocked hips. Another ripple of giggles ricocheted throughout the room. Your cheeks flame with embarrassment. You were used to being teased about your height and young appearance by people you knew, not by strangers using it as a way to question your position at work.

Feeling a surge of indignation and annoyance, you opened your mouth before you could stop yourself and shot back, “I’m 28 years old - how old are you?”

A loud chorus of “Ooooh!” from the class, and in a split-second, you knew you’d fucked up.

A fire ignited behind Melissa’s eyes, her eyebrows coming together and her weight shifting forward. Her posture was rigid, coiled like a rattlesnake, ready to strike at any moment. Her nostrils flared as she bit out, “I’m none-of-your-business years old.” Her tone was dangerous and sharp. The class waited with bated breath to see what you’d do. Would the new sub start a fight with Miss Schemmenti? The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

You heard, “Neither of you swing before I start recording!” from Ava.

Your heart was rattling inside your chest. ‘And I thought being late would be enough to make the wrong first impression.’ But you didn’t feel sorry for what you said. It wasn’t fair for her to be so critical. If she wanted to play the age card, then you’d meet her where she was at. She had no right to belittle you, even if you were less experienced.

You decided then and there that you didn’t like Melissa Schemmenti.

But you needed to get past this - you both had a class to teach, after all. Standing your ground, you managed to hold her gaze as you said evenly, “If you would be so kind as to point me to my desk? I believe we have a school day to start.” You were immensely proud that your voice didn’t tremble, despite the way your pulse thrummed in your ears.

Glaring at you for a moment longer, you knew you’d live to see another day when Melissa shifted her weight back again, arms folding across her chest. 'Her well-endowed chest,' you thought. You immediately chastised yourself. You needed to get a grip. This was your workplace and you should be keeping things professional, although that had almost gone out the window already. Even if she was alarmingly hot, she’d disrespected you without so much as a “hello.” The woman had been ready to tear you limb from limb a moment ago, and not in a sexy way.

Melissa tilted her head with a pointed look toward the back corner of the room, and you glanced over to see a small desk. You met her gaze once more and muttered a “Thank you.” But as you started to turn, you realized neither she nor the class knew your name. Stopping, you introduced yourself, instinctively holding out a hand.

It occurred to you how incredibly awkward it was to offer to shake the hand of the woman you’d just slighted, and you’re thankful you can write off the heat still lingering on your cheeks as your temper.

For a moment, she stared disdainfully at your proffered hand, but she sent a furtive glance toward the class and a look of realization passed over her face - her students had been watching all of this unfold. Maybe she wanted to set a good example, or maybe she just wanted to move on, but she took your hand begrudgingly. Her grip was a bit too tight. “Miss Schemmenti,” she said, and you noted the lack of a first name. Her teeth were gritted behind a strained smile. The flash in her eyes made the message clear. You are not on my good side.

Ava made a disapproving sound. “Man, I thought I was gonna get something good,” she said, and you caught the light glinting off of what you suspect was her phone camera as she turned and walked away.

You released Melissa's hand and retreated to the back of the room. As you deposited your things on what was now your desk, Melissa began, “Alright my little cannolis, enough dilly-dallying. Shawnte, will you please help me pass out these math sheets?” Her irritation was masked impeccably behind a practiced teacher's voice as she split a stack of papers with a small girl from the third-grade side of the room.

You exhaled deeply. It was only 8:15 and you’d managed to make your first enemy at Abbott. Unpacking your things, you found you couldn’t resist watching Melissa as she made her way around the room. You didn't consider yourself quick to anger, but somehow this woman had managed to piss you off in a matter of minutes. And you were supposed to spend at least the next week and a half with her?

As she passed by you, her eyes shot up and briefly made contact with yours. You felt the heat of her glare piercing into you. It seems she couldn’t resist another pointed comment on your tardiness. “Maybe tomorrow, you could get here on time and do your job, so I don’t have to ask a student to help pass out papers.”

This was going to be a long week.

[bleue-flora]

For absolutely no reason whatsoever, I feel like we should talk about Limbo. Because it’s a interesting topic with lots of space for theories and perhaps this will help us come back to some common ground of discussion, and be an open enough topic to allow everyone, whether someone who just joined the fandom or has been here for years, to hopefully feel safe and welcome enough to join in and share their thoughts and opinions. Go ahead and use the tag #dsmp limbo so I can see your thoughts, there is no right or wrong answer here.

To start off the discussion, we know the time dilation based on what Wilbur has said is about 30/1 - meaning every 1 second is 30 seconds in limbo, every 2 minutes is 1 hour in limbo, every 48 minutes is 1 day in limbo, every 1 day is a about 1 month in limbo and so on just to give you perspective. We also know based on both what happens in the finale and by what Dream says in the finale, that Limbo changes based on how you die and the circumstances around your death.

Now here are my thoughts at the moment on the matter. While a lot of times I see Limbo in fanfics more personalized to the person killed, one theory I came up with to explain Limbo is that it is actually is more connected to the situation around the death and killer/death.

For example, Schlatt died of a stroke and his limbo then becomes a gym, themeing off the fact of becoming healthy and fit something he wasn’t in life. That lead to his nation being taken over and him not being physically capable to stop it as well as him dying to a stroke, which we are encouraged to believe is caused by his alcoholism.

But I feel like perhaps Schlatt’s is the easiest to connect, Wilbur’s on the other hand is a little weirder. But I think the train station is actually connected to Philza having just arrived, so the relation to travel. Trains are often kept on a schedule to be on time and Philza’s appearance is just in time to kill Wilbur, but too late to stop him from pushing the button.

Mexican Dream’s limbo then reflects more of Dream than of Mexican Dream. With an empty, unfinished nation not unlike how empty and isolated Dream likely felt, as well as angry about nations for being the cause.

This theory becomes a little stronger when looking at Tommy’s 1st Limbo being an existence of basically nothing. And I think this reflects how Dream kinda has nothing at this point. Also relating to how Tommy killed the cat (and am I miss remembering that he also burned his clock?) the only thing(s) Dream had left. It could alternatively relate to an empty stomach adding an element from his death being from the potato.

Rambo’s limbo then connects to Sam for a few reasons, one I think Sam felt very alone in his efforts to keep Dream locked up. Like only he could do it and no one was helping him. It is also similar in the fact that Sam felt so cornered and trapped like killing Ranboo was the only thing he could do, similar to how one would feel stuck on a tiny island surrounded by water that burns. It’s also interesting since for Ranboo, the island is also inescapable like the prison and he is only able to leave when Mexican Dream comes (like Dream only escaping prison when Techno comes), oh and Sam lives on an island too.

Then finally Tommy’s 2nd Limbo I think pretty clearly relates to Tommy asking before he died about why and how Dream saw things, and Dream’s comment of “everything was fine before you came!” so Limbo shows Tommy Dream’s pov at the beginning. Reflecting how Dream feels, his - “I just don’t want to ever be alone.”

Anyways, hopefully that made some sense, those are just some thoughts I have at the moment. Now I wanna hear yours. :) How do you think limbo works? What do you think Punz’s and Dream’s Limbos were? What were Vik’s, Lazar’s and Connor’s Limbos? What do you think would have been Tubbo’s, Techno’s or other character’s Limbos? How was Quackity able to visit Schlatt’s Limbo in the Las Nevadas stream?…

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Time for a change - Jake Seresin Imagine x Bestie Reader

Warnings: physical and verbal violence, cursing, mentions of blood. Mentions of physical abuse and domestic violence

A/N: Here is officially the part 2 to ticking time bomb!

2 days, that’s how long your boyfriend kept the promise to be sober. That’s how long your relationship was good for. Two whole days. On the third day, he came home in a pissy mood from work and had decided to stop at the hard deck on the way home. You looked at the clock, the numbers changing to show it was now midnight. You hadn’t expected him home this late, but thought he just got held up.

However, him staggering in told you he wasn’t keeping his promises. You were fed up. “I’m not doing this. I’m done.” Your words were firm as you went to walk away from him, but he caught your arm in his grip. “No, you’re not.” He smiled at you as he held you tight enough to bruise your wrist. “Let me go.” It was a mix between a whine and a demand, your wrist trying to writhe itself free. He refused and just held you tighter, until he finally let go and you ended up hitting yourself in the eye, hard. You swore and staggered back as you put your hand over it, instantly seeing him become apologetic. “No, I’m done with this shit.” You shook your head and walked to grab your keys, storming out of the house and into your car. You sat there for a few seconds, trying to decide what to do.

12:30 flashed on your dash, the only light in a seemingly endless darkness of your front seat. Your head was leaning against the steering wheel as you swore under your breath and opened up your phone to snap a quick picture of your face. There was already a bruise forming around your eye, the purple and blue colors starting to poke out and rise to the surface. “Damn it!” You sighed and tried to figure out where to go. You had just broken off things with the guy you lived with, so you only had one other place to go.

You dialed Jake’s number and let your thumb hover over the call button before eventually giving up. You felt awful dragging him into this again. You didn’t even know if he was awake. It was almost 1 am by now, and no doubt he had things to do in a few hours. But, you still found yourself throwing your phone down and driving to the all too familiar house that Jake shared with Bradley. They claimed to not be best friends, but you saw right through the act.

You knocked on the door and waited, gnawing on your bottom lip anxiously. “Melanie, I told you I’m not-“ You heard a gruff voice at the door as it opened, revealing a slumber stricken Bradley. His hair was messy and his eyes were half open as he glanced down at you. “Oh, shit. Hey, Y/N.” His face softened as he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks and he let you inside. “He’s in his room.” He nodded towards Jake’s door as you walked over to it. You twisted the knob, sighing when you realizing it was locked. You knocked softly, hearing a rustling inside. “God damn it, Rooster. I told you to knock it off.” His sleepy voice brought out the Texas twang more and you sniffled and looked down at your feet, staying quiet. “It isn’t me, dickhead! It’s Y/N!” Bradley’s voice was irate and grumbling as he gave you a nod and headed back to his room, the door closing behind him.

At the mention of your name there was a pause before the door finally peeked open. He looked out at you with a raised eyebrow, his upset from the last interaction you two had evident. He waited for you to say something before he let out a sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Fight?” He asked simply and you gave s curt nod, picking at your nails. “Bad one.” You hated this. You hated the small talk. You hated the awkwardness. “Listen, im here for you. But, how many more times-“ You shook your head and cut him off, not looking up at him. “None. I broke it off. I left.” Your voice was muffled as you finally looked up at him, the black and blue bruise showing up in the moonlight.

He swore under his breath as he lightly ran his finger tips along the underside of your eye, holding up your chin to get a better look. He inspected the bruise, tilting your head towards him. “Did he?” He couldn’t even get the full sentence out as you shook your head and showed him your wrist, that was now a dark bluish purple. “No, but the eye happened when I was trying to get away from him.” Jake tenderly wrapped his fingers around your wrist, using it to pull you into his chest. He held you close, his heartbeat soothing you as you finally let a few tears slip. “I’m not going to let him hurt you anymore.” His words were a solid promise, his lips pressing to the crown of your head as he held you as close as he could. “Come on, let’s get some rest then we’ll figure everything out tomorrow.” Jake let you into his room where you got comfy on his bed and quickly fell asleep, exhaustion taking over your body.

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

The next day was full of talking with Bradley and Jake and trying to plan out when and how you could easily get your stuff. Jake and Bradley both agreed to talk to Maverick and try to get a few days off of work so they could go to your house without Nathan being there and get your stuff. It would be the easiest that way, you had all decided.

That would take place later this week, for now you were basically just going to be living in the clothes you have and the clothes your friends let you use. Natasha, for instance, was willing to let you borrow some of hers and she was willing to take you shopping. Jake was willing to let you steal his hoodies and his sweatpants and him and Bradley were willing to turn their gym room into a room for you. That was hard for them to give up, but Jake said it was worth it.

The three of you were lounging on the couch, not much noise between you before Bradley spoke up. “Do you guys wanna go to the hard deck? Coyote and the rest of the guys are going.” He looked up from his phone to the two of you, sorry evident on your face. “That’s his favorite place..” you mumble, nerves evident as you started to gnaw on your bottom lip. “I’ll protect you. Besides, I could go for giving him a piece of my mind.” Jake gave you his signature smirk as you looked up at him, eyes sparkling in mischief. “Jake…” Unease was very evident in your voice, your leg starting to nervously bounce as you sat up a bit. “Come on, you know we’ll take care of you. We always do.” Bradley was trying to comfort you now, throwing you a soft smile as you thought about it.

You hesitantly nodded and the two boys exchanged knowing looks as you all got up to go get ready to go. You all three climbed into the bronco, Bradley insisting on driving this time. You sat between the two boys, eyes out the front windshield as you tried to calm your nerves. You were walking into the lions den, you had an army behind you, but you still felt the fear creeping up and into your stomach.

When you pulled into the parking lot of the hard deck, the three of you got out of the bronco and walked inside. The rest of the squad was already there, and Natasha immediately walked up to you and engulfed you in a huge hug. She lead you over to the bar, ordering you a drink. Jake shot her a look that told her to keep an eye on you and she nodded in obligation. The two of you spent some time catching up and ranting before walking back over to the pool tables. Natasha walked off to talk to someone else and you slotted yourself next to Jake, his arm immediately going around you. “Having fun?” His words were soft and genuine as he squeezed your shoulder, hoping the answer was yes. You nodded and gave him a smile, opening your mouth to answer before it quickly snapped shut.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the bag man with my sloppy seconds.” You heard Nathan’s voice come through the crowd and Jake immediately put himself between the two of you. He pushed you behind him, bicep flexing as he grit his teeth and looked at Bradley. Him and the rest of the daggers made their way over, knowing this would get ugly. “I’m nobody’s sloppy seconds.” You tried to make yourself sound tougher than you felt, Nathan laughing harshly in reply. “Sweetheart, you need an emphasis on the word sloppy.” His words were like a dagger and you winced.

“You know he’s given me no choice but to kill him now, right?” Jake’s eyes were the coldest you had ever seen them and his voice was dripping with venom. He was tired of seeing this happen to you, it was time to take action and end this once and for all. He took a step towards Nathan, boy boys puffing their chests up as Jake pushed the other boy out onto the deck. “Oh, you think you can hurt me?” Your ex boyfriend’s condescending tone was like nails on a chalkboard as you just swallowed thickly and watched as he took the first punch, it landing on Jake’s cheek and mouth. Jake just smirked and felt his lip, feeling it start to swell up as he spit a little blood into the sand nearby.

Jake had always been very good at fighting, unfortunately you knew that personally. In high school, he got in quite a few fights protecting you or his sisters. He was very protective of his girls and he got really good at knowing where and when to strike. He reared back and landed a hard punch right to Nathan’s nose, undoubtedly breaking it according to the loud crunch that you heard follow the blow and the blood pouring from his nose. Nathan staggered backwards, swearing under his breath as he reached up to try and stop the bleeding. “You son of a bitch.” He was seething, almost looking like he was foaming at the mouth.

You looked around nervously, noticing a crowd starting to form to see who might win the fight. It made you nauseous and you just wanted to go home. You watched as Nathan barely managed to give Jake a black eye before Jake landed another devastating blow to your exes jaw, sending him tumbling to his knees.

“Wow, you sure gave up fast.” Jake had a cocky smirk on his face as Nathan just sat there, bruised and bloody. Jake was wanting to bask in the glory when he realized you were nearby and he immediately turned to look for you, his breath hitching in his chest. Where were you?

He searched the people around him before his eyes finally landed on you. You had moved towards the back after Jake threw the last punch, a shy but proud smile on your lips as you gave him a thumbs up. He made his way towards you, your arms immediately wrapping around him. “You worry me to death when you fight like that.” Your words were muffled by his shirt as he hugged you, chuckling as he looked down at you. He had a black eye and a split lip and it made you frown. “That has to hurt.” He shook his head and instinctively let his tongue run over the cut on his lip, half wincing. “It’s not too bad.”

You just sighed and shook your head, taking his wrist and leading him back towards the bar. “Well, at least let me get you a whiskey and get you cleaned up and hopefully no one calls the police.” You gave him a bashful smile as you pulled him back in through the hard deck doors, immediately going up to the bar and ordering a shot of whiskey for Jake. He drank the shot and then you pulled him towards the bathroom at the hard deck, ready to get him cleaned up.

“Nope, hang on.” Jake held back before he ordered a shot for you and another for him, the both of you downing it. “We need liquid courage before you save my life.” He was so dramatic. You rolled your eyes and just shook your head before you went through the door into the bathroom. “Sit down and just hush. Let me get to work.”

For the first time, Jake did as he was told.

[youboredright]

Fate Cannot Be Changed

What happens if the strongest mafia known to be the coldest man alive gets arranged married with a sweet hearted woman? Can the innocent Yn change Gojo Satoru, biggest mafia in Yakuta? Maybe or maybe not..-

Mafia Gojo Satoru X reader

(Part - 2)

Yn Pov

‌Just after waking up the first thing I saw was 7:10 am on the digital clock. I rushed to the kitchen. It has been only 3 days of our wedding I messed up.

I started making pancakes in hope I can finish them before Gojo wakes up. After around 1 hour of baking, perfecting, decorating and waiting...Gojo didn't come. Did he come before didn't see...and got disappointed? I disappointed him at the fourth day. With head full of thoughts I approached his room. I knocked few times but he didn't answer. Opening the door all I could see is a empty room. He left. I dryly laughed. What did I expect I was 20 minutes late. Of course he would not wait for me. One thing I learnt about him was that he was very punctual. I flinched when I thought of something. 'What now, will he take action.?' I am scared, because I don't know if he will or not. After all he is the mafia.

I decided to call him to check on him. What if he didn't eat anything for breakfast? What if he didn't take anything for lunch? What if he didn't have anything, it's almost 8:30 in the morning? Concern filled me up. After calling him for 3 times, he finally picked up. "Who gave you the permission to call me?" Gojo kind of yell. "I am sorry . I just called to know if you had breakfast or anythin-" " Look Yn I am working I am not like you. Free all of the time. So do something and don't disturb me." Saying that he hung up the phone. "Disturb" ? Taking care, being concern about your own husband is a act of disturbance?

Forward

‌Gojo was very late. It was almost midnight. Hearing the sound of keys I rushed to the door. "Do you know the time? Did you have dinner?" Gojo just simply ignored me and walked past me. I hold his arm to stop him.

This was the very first time I touched him other than kissing him in the wedding day. I could feel his veins in his biceps under his long sleeve shirt. It was...hot maybe? I was woken up from my thoughts when I felt Gojo dangerously leaning towards me. At this point I could feel his breath touching my face. He was drunk. He had a strong scent of cigarettes and alcohol. After leaning Gojo directly look at me "Do you know what I want? I want her back. Can you bring back Nora? No, right?"

‌Nora? Who is she? Gojo's ex? Is he still in love with her? That's why he behaves like this to me? My mind was full of thoughts. But Gojo's voice was quieter and deeper. He was calm and composed even when he was drunk. Before I could say or do anything, Gojo pushed me and walked away.

Just a few minutes ago my mind was full of thoughts about how I touched his arm but now it is full of thoughts about Nora. Even after all this treatment from Gojo, my heart ached a bit hearing that from Gojo. I went to the kitchen and straight to Gojo's room. Even if he didn't like me, I couldn't see anyone hurt or sick. I hated the fact that I cared about every one.

I didn't knock because it is useless. Going inside I saw Gojo laying on his bed. It was all dark. But I could still see Gojo's toned chest through his half opened shirt. I tried waking him up, but he didn't move. He needs to drink water and medicine before he sleeps. But then again he is a light sleeper and he was maybe he is a deep sleep after a long time. So I just decided to put his medicines on his bed side table and leave. As I stood I felt a strong pull and the next thing I knew was that Gojo.. Pinned me on the bed with my hands above my head.

‌"Who are you? Who send you?" This time his voice was deep but it was somehow scary. It felt like a thread. What made it worse was he was drunk and gave a dead stare. "Go-jo it's me. Y-n" I hated myself for stuttering. "Why are you here" I could feel he was becoming sober but he was still slightly drunk. He left my hands and sat on the bed. "Leave."

"No. Not before you have the medicines and water." I said acting all stubborn and confident but I was scared. Because I heard Gojo never takes 'no' as an answer. "And why should I trust you?" "Because I am your wife. And what will I even do, huh?" "Try to poison me?" 'Poison' him. Why would I even try to kill someon- oh right it is very normal for mafias. "I don't have the energy. to. So please have the medicine" After a lot of begging, Gojo did have the medicines.

"Why is it huge" Gojo nagged. "Oh I don't know, princess" Hearing that Gojo gave me a dead stare. "Why did you call me that.?" "Because you cannot even have a medicine properly" He just rolled his eyes. He did not yell. Was he in a good mood ... Because of maybe Nora? I did not notice I was staring at him the whole time until

"Too much in love with me? That you cannot even resist my handsome face?" Gojo was flirtatious. "No? Well I have seen better" saying that I smirked. "I don't care. Now go to your room. And don't you dare fall in love with me or any other man". His mood changed completely. He was no longer flirtatious or in a good mood. Something triggered him. I mumbled a soft 'sorry' and left not wanting to make his mood worse.

‌It was around 1 am and I was still shifting my sides to get some sleep. Do I have insomnia, now? My mind was full of thoughts about, who actually is 'Nora'. I went to kitchen to grab a glass of water. It was so quite. As I turned to return, the silence broke as the bell rang.

Something pushed me to open the door. Opening the door, I saw a tall man and a girl.The girl was probably in her mind 20s. The guy was wearing a black hoodie with grey sweatpants. Both of them covered their face by a cap and a mask. I was scared but before I could say anything. "Why didn't you sleep yet Yn." It was Gojo. "Sorry I-" "I don't need an explanation. Go to your room. And don't disturb us." I just simply nodded and left. Who was the guy? Was the girl, Nora?

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To be continued

[the-illiterate-pirate]

Head Like a Hole | Ch. 1

Ch. 2 is here! ->

4K WORDS!! I WROTE THIS IN THREE DAYS! DON'T ASK ME HOW, I DON'T KNOW!

Notes: SFW, Fem!reader, modernish AU, Diavolo is still Diavolo but less paranoid, Slightly OOC Dia, talks about mafia stuff, Google translated Italian. Please, if anyone can tell me if anything is written wrong please let me know! Translations are at the end of the fic (at least what I was hoping them to mean)

WARNINGS: While this chapter is sfw, this series will contain content including violence, and possible nsfw content in the future

Meeting him was by simple chance. You didn't expect taking the long way home for a change was going to change your life almost entirely.

Your car was in your dads shop for some repairs. You didn't have another way home, not at this hour. From work to your home you had two options; walk through the city in the middle of the night and chance yourself getting mugged, or take the longer route home through the woods.

Woods it was.

You didn't mind the long road. It was pretty and scenic. If you had more time to relax, there was a lake off the road that was a gorgeous picnic spot. But late at night, the road became a scene from a horror movie. Trees blocked out the moon, making the road pitch black, and you were all alone. Thankfully, you knew the way back home by heart already, and no one came down this way, either. Not that you were scared, it'd take more than a spooky road to freak you out!

You check your clock. 11:12. If you were lucky, you could make it home before 11:30. You could get to bed before midnight, and get a good seven hours before tomorrow's shift! Now you just needed to get your boyfriend to take you...

A light caught your attention from further down the road. As you made it over the hill, you saw it was a car, sleek, all black, with the lights on but not the engine. You were cautious as you approached, finding three men surrounding the trunk. They all talked in hushed voices, but quieted down as they saw you approach.

They watched like vultures as you got nearer. You tried to analyze what was happening, despite your lacking senses; two men, one GIANT. The car was a lot longer than you originally thought, like some kind of limo. The three men all settled around a tire on the right side of the car that looked dangerously flat.

You wanted to ignore them, give them a polite nod and continue on, or just pretend they didn't even exist at all. But your father's side in you itched to see if you could help.

To ignore it, or to help. That was the real question.

"Ciao, gentlemen!"

God damnit.

"Is everything okay over here?" You asked, trying to sound neutral and cool.

The man in white stepped up quickly. "Our business doesn't concern you," He hissed in an irritated voice. "Leave." He was elbowed by the other regular-sized man. His purple suit blended into the dark scenery well, but not as well as the black robe and belts the giant was wearing. If not for his skin and the reds of his eyes, you wouldn't know he was there. "We're just experiencing a flat and trying to figure out our next course of action." The blond explained for you. "Nothing to worry yourself with."

They turn back to their tire, dismissing you immediately, which presses a button in the back of your head. Your own irritation from being ignored.

"Should we call a mechanic?"

"Like hell we should! Were the hell could we find a mechanic this late?!"

You know you can fix it. You know you can help them, so you press further.

"Well~... If you need the help, I don't mind lending a hand!" You got their attention again, the man in black's red eyes darted in your direction. "My dad's a mechanic. s'taught me everything he knows. Convenient, right?"

They all shared a look, debating whether to trust a stranger or not. You slid a little closer, trying to see the damage with minimum lighting. "We drove over some glass, or something." The blond tried to explain. "We've got a spare and the tools, we're just not sure how to fix it."

"Well, that makes my job easier." You grin, raising an eyebrow, "Three grown men, and none of y'all know how to change a tire?"

"Our job is more important than learning how to change a friggin' tire!" Glasses hissed like a pissed off snake. You reply coolly, "I'm sure they are. Now, the faster you allow me to help you, the quicker both of us get outta here."

The two older gentlemen got to work, while the younger man dragged his feet coming back to the front of the car to find their lug wrench after you asked him (very nicely, you might add). When he comes back you start by taking off the hubcap along with the lug nuts to the tire. The taller man slides the jackhammer over to you. It takes his strength to hoist the car up when you can't. He hasn't said a word. No talk, just work. You admire his strength from the boot of the car, taking a quick break by leaning on it for support.

You pretend that you don't feel the soft thumps against the trunk lid.

You blame it on the engine. But you know that it wasn't even on.

After that, it takes you no time to actually take off and replace the tire. You sit back on your haunches, admiring your work while you push the sweat from your brow. The man, who you've learned goes by the name of "Risotto" from one of the many heated, hushed conversations between Ghiaccio and Prosciutto, stood behind you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Well done." He spoke in a low, throaty voice. Like walking on a gravel driveway.

"It was nothing, I've been working on cars before I can even remember. If I wasn't at school, I was in my dad's auto body shop changing oil or replacing windows." You turn and give him a playful eye. "...Although, replacing a car tire is relatively well-known knowledge." He nodded.

"Duly noted."

"Hey." Ghiaccio comes from the right side of the car, looking peeved and stealing Risotto's attention. "Boss is asking if she needs a ride."

They both look at you, a questioning look on their faces. "Well?"

"Consider it as thanks. For helping us with our problem." Risotto added on.

"It is getting late." You groan, checking your wrist again. It was already 11:30. So much for getting home at a decent hour. "I mean, if you're offering, I won't pass it up."

"Get in the front with the driver. We'll take care of everything back here." Risotto nods to the side Ghiaccio came from. You do as told, ignoring the hammering in your heart. Your heart was screaming at you to book it, but your gut told you to trust them. You helped them, so they'll help you. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.

You're greeted by a man with purple hair at the wheel, a slimy smile on his mouth and a mask concealing one of his eyes. "Where to?" He asks in a silky smooth voice.

"Just at the end of this road will be enough for me. I live off in the cul-de-sac on the left side of here."

Risotto and Ghiaccio slammed the trunk lid closed again. Right where you felt that melodic thumping. Behind you, the back of the car was open to the second part of the limo, where Prosciutto sat with five other men, all ranging in outrageous attire and scorned (or outright frantically anxious in one case) features. The third section you noticed outside was cut off by a wall and tinted glass. Once Risotto and Ghiaccio shut their doors the driver stepped on the gass, the car lurched forward in a slow crawl towards the end of the dirt road.

"A shame such a pretty place like this is the target for littering." The driver sighed.

"Yeah... Rarely anyone comes back here, if it ain't one of my neighbors it's just some ass dumping trash out in the middle of the woods. I ran over something last week, actually. Trashed my car so badly it got sent to the shop."

"How terrible."

You turn away from your driver to look out the windshield. Now, with headlights, you could see the woods in its glory. The leaves were a beautiful shade of green this summer, just about the same shade as your driver's eyes. "If you don't mind my asking, what is it you lot are doing out here, anyway?"

"Don't worry yourself with that." The purple haired man smiled, looking away from the road for a split second to catch your eye. "We're just looking for the perfect location for a friendly midnight rendezvous."

A series of chuckles came from the back of the car, all ranging in pitch. And the clues you kept picking up finally came together.

The car.

The suits.

The tinted glass.

The fucking kicking in the cars trunk. Even now you swore you could still hear the thumping, following terrified whimpers behind a cloth gag.

Oh shit.

"Oh, shit."

The man beside you placed a tender pat on your thigh. "Non c'è bisogno di preoccuparsi, cara. You've helped our boss, so he will help you. I mean, if you promise to keep this little secret for us. Capisci?"

You felt nine pairs of eyes digging into the back of your head, waiting for an answer. It took you a moment to swallow the thick saliva building up in your mouth. Your hands balled into fists in your lap. "Capisci."

"Di molto! Now, let's get you home, cara."

The rest of the drive was in dead silence. You weren't sure what to do, you could barely think of a single thing without it getting drowned out by the fast beats of your aching heart.

They were mafiosi. Gangsters, most definitely with a loving corpse in their trunk. And you were hitching a ride with them.

You thanked your past self for not letting them drop you off right at your house. They may know where you live, but not your house, that was good. You think.

The drive felt like hours, but a quick glance at your watch told you it was 11:38. Not even ten minutes ago did you accept the favor. The car rolled to a stop at the edge of the woods. Just above you could see house lights illuminating the dark. For a moment you couldn't get out of your seat, just frozen, staring through the windshield. Until a voice from the back of the car broke you from your daze.

"Melone." He was the guy in mesh and a jacket, sporting a strange buzz cut and countless piercings in his ears. "The boss wants to talk with her."

If the car could get any quieter, it did. Like the ambient noise was sucked in a vacuum. Like the cicadas and the insects all knew what his words meant and the weight they carried crushed them to death.

"Not even we get to talk with him. Tch!" Ghiaccio snapped while he pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"It's best not to keep him waiting." The guy with the piercings lips split into a grin.

Melone quickly pushed you out of your seat, sending you into the humid summer night once again. You didn't move for a second too long, so the car did. It moved until you were face to face with the last set of windows in the car. Just like inside, the glass was tinted black and you could only make out your reflection, until it dropped like the feeling of nausea in your stomach.

It revealed the bottom half of their boss. The shadows in the car kept you from seeing all but his lips and his crimson suit. He sat stock still, only allowing you to watch as his lips moved while he spoke. "You've done me and my men a great favor, amica. You have my thanks."

You don't speak, so he continues.

"I surely hope we don't have to worry about you telling anyone about our being here, si?"

"S-Si, Signore."

"Bene," His body moves, the sound of moving cloth making itself known. His hand suddenly appears through the open window, a card between his two fingers. "I want you to take this." You do as told, analyzing the card. Just a phone number. Nothing else.

"Think of it as a favor... If you ever find yourself in need of help, give us a call."

You swallow harshly. "What... Kind of 'favor'?"

The corner of his lips tilted up the slightest bit. "Anything your little head can think of. Just don't make it boring."

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand. "Fino a quando ci incontriamo di nuovo. Grazie, mi cara."

That was all. His window rolled back up, leaving you alone. Well, almost alone.

"Senti! Ragazza!"

You quickly turn around and see the man with the buzz cut is hanging dangerously far out the front window. "Tell me, there's a nice little lake in the woods nearby, si?"

You're too stunned to speak, simply nodding your head "yes".

The man turned back around in the car, "I told you!" He gave you an enthusiastic "thanks" and got back in correctly. You proceeded to walk home, urgency in your steps but not enough to show how fearful you were. Hopefully, at least.

You didn't turn back, you weren't even sure you were going in the right direction, you just wanted them gone. You didn't start booking it home until you were sure their lights changed direction and the car turned to leave the cul-de-sac.

They were gone. You were home. Everything that just happened could be chalked up as just some terrible stress induced nightmare once you wake up tomorrow. Now you just wanted to get in bed and snuggle up to your boyfriend.

One thing for sure, though, you were never stepping foot near that lake ever again.

A year passed since that fateful night. At least.. that's what it felt like. You weren't entirely sure. Since then, you had moved from that tiny little circle of homes out in the Italian country-side. You missed it often, the neighbors were nice, but you didn't regret it. You hated having to move but that house that was once a home was tainted with terrible memories now. You wished whoever moved into it next didn't suffer the same fate.

Nowadays you could be found in the bustling city of Napoli. your new home in the heart of the wonderful city, far away from your old house. No one bothered you anymore. You hadn't had any problems with mafiosi or anyone else. Well, for the most part. And your Italian was getting better. You were healing, and doing much better.

Except some days it didn't feel like it. Horrors from the past kept coming back to haunt you, every time you felt like everything was getting better something came back to pull the chair from underneath your ass.

You were getting desperate. That card with the lonely phone number tempted you every time you opened your underwear drawer, hiding underneath the frilly black two piece you haven't bothered putting on in years.

Would he even remember you? Is he... even still alive..? Surely the life of a mafia boss was a dangerous one. Every day the idea of calling it was getting more and more delectable.

You took the card with you to work. You felt like it was burning its mark into the tiny side pocket of your purse, like you'd sold your soul to the devil himself by helping change his tire. 

You can't stand it anymore. No one's around. It's past sunset on your way from work and the sidewalks and roads are all empty. You fumble with the phone in your pocket, your eyes fluttering between the keypad and the card for every number, not daring to misclick even once.

You hesitated to click "dial". That familiar feeling balling up in the back of your throat was back. You felt like throwing up, or tossing your phone away, never to be seen again.

Some mysterious force makes your thumb hit "dial". And you were stuck waiting for someone– anyone to pick up with a lump in your throat.

The phone rang.

And it rang again.

And again.

And again.

When did you stop breathing?

Didn't matter, once someone finally picked up , your heart followed gravity and fell back painfully into your chest cavity with a throb. It was quiet for an uncomfortable second.

"Buongiorno. Who is this?"

That wasn't the same man you heard before. His voice was so much deeper, a bit more gravelly. This voice, no, this one was higher, a little younger sounding. Even as he questioned you he sounded enthusiastic to speak with anyone, even you, a stranger.

"Um– Buongiorno. I was hoping to speak with–" Wait. Who were you trying to speak with? You didn't have a name.

"I don't recognize your voice. I don't recognize your phone number, either. Who are you? And how did you get this number?"

There was a sudden edge to the stranger's voice that wasn't there before. It startled you, making you even flinch over the phone.  "I'm not one of your colleagues, Signore! Your boss– maybe? I think? He, he gave me this number. He said I could call it if I ever needed a favor."

You hoped he believed you. You hoped, truly, that he believed you. With the cracks in your voice and your incredibly, very professional way of speaking surely must have won him over.

The man on the other side of the phone spoke slowly. "The... Boss gave you this number himself? I think... Maybe, I remember something like this." He paused. "What kind of favor?"

"You're–" You look around; still alone. Still no one around. You think. But you add the rest in a tiny whisper for only your stranger. "You're in the mafia, right?"

He's dead silent. Either waiting for you to continue, or wondering how you have the information. So you keep going, "Listen. I, I'm not... I'm just a citizen, I guess. But I need help, and... I think this is the only way I can do it."

"Continue." The enthusiasm in his voice was gone. All work. Just like those other mafiosi you met last year. You wondered if they were still around.

"So, I have this problem. It's my ex. He's. Crazy. He was an asshole even before we broke up. He's been stalking me, I moved and he's sending me letters in the mail, he's harassing my coworkers– I think he's breaking into my house and stealing my shit, too. I just want him-" You almost say the wrong word. Almost. "-gone. I want him gone. Can. Can you do that?"

More silence. Maybe it was too much information. Or was it not enough? From the other end of the line you heard the stranger clear his throat. "I'm sure we can handle your situation. This seems serious. Is he hurting you physically?"

"Just mentally. But, he's.. done things to me in the past. I'm worried things might get physical sooner or later."

"I understand." You were chewing on the nail of your left thumb now. You try to stop yourself once you realize. "Listen, I just need two things, and I'll see to getting your situation handled. Can you give me his name, along with yours?" So you give him your name. It's almost like a weight has come off your shoulders. Like you were finally getting set free. No more creepy mail. No more acting like a hermit. Or threats of harm. You were free. Nearly.

"His name is Amaro Mezzasalma. Are you sure there's nothing more I can give you?"

"I'm sure. Actually, no– give me your number as well. I'll contact you as soon as I can for further updates."

You do as you're told. "Grazie." He thanks you. "My name is Doppio, I work underneath the boss himself, so I have ties directly to him, along with the men who will "handle" this situation for us, understand? I'll make sure nothing bad happens to you, in the meantime, feel free to use this number if you ever feel that you're in danger, it's to my personal phone, got it?"

"Yes. I got it. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it. I hope to see you soon, signora. Until we talk again, ciao."

"Ciao."

Now, you were alone for real this time, feeling lighter than ever before. Almost giddy, like a kid. How long has it been since you felt so euphoric?

You take steps on shaking legs, making it back home without that tightening feeling in your chest. You don't make it to the next block before your phone rings, sending you upright ten feet.

It's the same number. Is it? Was it a number off from the card? You don't have time to check, you almost immediately answer it.

"We finally meet again."

It was him! The boss! It was strange how excited you felt to hear his voice again. It was rough, but in such a lovely way of the word. It almost felt... Comforting.

"I knew you'd wind up calling us sooner or later.

"Speak, cara."

"It's good to hear from you again." You blurt out without really thinking about it. He must find your anxiety amusing, because he's laughing now. A rumbling chuckle like a storm on the sea. It's pleasant. "T-Thank you, for doing this."

"It's no problem of ours, my dear. Things will be taken care of soon, Doppio has told me everything. I'll have my finest men tracking down Signore Amaro, and we'll make sure to give him a very warm welcome."

That didn't sound good.

"For now, rest. I want you to meet Doppio tomorrow at four pm, does that work for you?"

Normally you go in at twelve. That's okay, though. You'll call in sick. It's worth missing a day, right?

"Works for me."

"Bene. Farewell, Y/n."

"Wait–" Before you can ask, he's hung up on you. You stare down at the screen of your phone. "Call ended."

You didn't know where he wanted you to meet this "Doppio" guy at.

Non c'è bisogno di preoccuparsi, cara = No need to worry, dear

Fino a quando ci incontriamo di nuovo. Grazie, mi cara = Until we meet again. Thanks, my dear

Capisci? = Understood?

Amica = friend

Bene = Good

Senti = works as a way to say "hear me"/"listen"

Ciao = Hello/goodbye

[fuck-customers]

https://www.tumblr.com/fuck-customers/740474153557164032/this-is-totally-a-dick-move-but-im-doing-it?source=share

I wanted to address a reply I saw on this post that I submitted. (I prefer to stay anonymous on the off-chance that someone could figure out who I am from my blog. The chance is EXTREMELY small, but if you read the original ask, you'll understand my concern)

Someone responded, saying that (I'm paraphrasing) by leaving negative reviews, I'm causing corporate to cut hours to my location even more and this is hurting me and I should instead leave fake positive reviews.

Ok I GET where you're coming from, I do, and I'm sure others have had that same thought. HOWEVER, as I said in my original post, I. WANT. THAT. STORE. TO BURN. I said in my original post that I've worked there several years (actually 4+ years more than any other employee at my particular location) and I've gotten shit on left and right. By the company, by management, and by customers and while I am looking for another job, it would make me SO happy to watch that shithole burn.

In the time I've worked there:

-My hours are always the first to be cut whenever "budget cuts" come around

-I regularly get scheduled closing shift when the other shifts CLEARLY have not done their tasks (as in I clocked in less than a minute ago and my manager can clearly see that the amount of work left could not physically be made in 1 minute) yet the manager is on my ass every few seconds to clean up after all of them and if my shift ends and I cannot finish, I get a talking to.

-I have been physically shoved by a manager and berated in front of coworkers and customers and that + the already stressful day I was having made me hide in the bathroom and cry. Then a few days later, another manager who wasn't even there that day heard about the incident (not the crying part-I hid) and made fun of me for a small mistake and said that I deserved the other manager yelling at me

-I spent my first year covering every single shift whenever asked and cross-trained myself so I could work in all departments and get more hours that way (🤡) only to be repaid by never getting promotions or raises (I did stop covering shifts after it was blatantly obvious that I would not get a raise/promotion/anything but taken advantage of)

-I worked the entire pandemic every day, almost to full-time, yet they refused to actually make me full-time, scheduling me just under (30-35 hours) so I was essentially working full-time hours without being able to get full-time benefits.

-An SM that worked there for a year apparently was threatened by me (though in no way was I after her job, I even repeatedly expressed that I had no interest in becoming management) and proceeded to fabricate an entire false story and reported it to HR as an EEOC issue in an attempt to get me fired

-Plus the multiple leads that have come and go that either treat all employees like dogshit and/or me, specifically. Talking down to me/us and snapping at me/us.

-Not to mention the disrespectful customers who see that I appear young and automatically assume I am stupid and/or incompetent, the most memorable experience being the old man who straight up asked me if I had brain damage and the (separate) old woman who straight up asked me if I was stupid and then immediately flat-out called me stupid to my face 10 seconds later.

PLUS: the store has been extremely noticeably not managed. We don't get enough hours to actually clean the store up and when I personally tried to start some cleanup projects on my own, I was actively discouraged and scolded by management. The place is a mess and actual customers have complained to me personally and other employees that I've witnessed about how shitty the store looks and how shitty the shopping experience is, so odds are, real customers are making the same reviews. I'm just filling in for those who lost their receipts.

ALSO: In the years I've worked there, I have seen several positive reviews from real customers, in fact the store used to have almost exclusively positive reviews, yet I never once saw any rewards from that. I even had customers personally go up to my manager and tell him how helpful and nice I was, blah, blah, blah and he came back and told me what the customers said and never once rewarded me and instead cut my hours when budget cuts came around.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[noiriarti]

The Arrangement: Armitage Hux x Reader (College AU) Ch. 3

Summary: A cuddle-buddies-to-lovers college AU.

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, [Ch. 3], Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6

Chapter 3: Four Knocks

He felt even more fucked the next morning. He had promised himself he would not fall asleep with you there, and instead spend the night on the couch. But he wanted five more minutes. And so he five-more-minutes-ed his way into falling asleep remarkably quickly. Unlike most other nights, he didn't wake up tossing and turning, or stare at the ceiling and beg for sleep to come. But that was a problem.

When he woke up, it wasn't to his blaring alarm clock. The room was silent, apart from the sound of your breathing. Right. Your breathing. He was in bed. With you. Maybe five more minutes wouldn't hurt. As he drifted off, he saw the clock he kept on his desk. It was fucking noon.

Armitage had very regimented days, and sleeping in until noon was not part of the plan. He usually loved days crammed with activities and tasks. They kept him on target, made sure he achieved all his goals, and prevented him from thinking too carefully about what he really wanted in life. Today, however, he found himself wanting to do none of his usual routine. He'd already slept through orgo and the gened he shared with Phasma--did it really matter if he didn't do his stupid MCAT flashcards?

After laying there for over half an hour, in and out of sleep while still holding you, he decided he should probably wake you. The very thought seemed cruel; you were so angelic like this, the frizzes in your hair caught by the morning light, your lips parted just so. Your hand had gotten under his at some point in the night, and he tentatively rubbed a gentle circle with his thumb over your knuckles. 

But he really should wake you, he reasoned. Armitage said your name and squeezed your hand (and decided not to process that he was holding your hand), but you didn't shift. He repeated himself, louder this time, and then again, which drew a groan from you.

"I'm up, I'm up," you grumbled. You shifted under his arm, turning around to face him with your eyes still closed. He found himself almost smiling at you, so clearly pretending.

"Alright, then open your eyes," he teased. You produced some sort of noise, obviously displeased, but opened your eyes to look at him.

"The good news is you got plenty of sleep, but the bad news is that it's 12:30," he said. Your eyes widened, and you bolted upright in bed and cursed, looking for your phone, or a clock, or something to prove him wrong. He was, unfortunately, completely correct, which meant that you had missed one class, and half of another. Goodbye, sweet attendance points.

"Well, there's nothing I can do about it now. Besides, I'm in Discrete Math and Algorithms with one of my friends, Dopheld, and he can send me the notes," you said. The silence hung between you for a few seconds. "Want some breakfast? I mean, lunch? ...Brunch?" Armitage nodded, and you hopped out of his bed to go back to your room and change.

Ten minutes later, he found you in the kitchen, making yourself an obscenely large bowl of Lucky Charms. You offered the box to him, and he hesitated. Usually, he ate two cups of Greek yogurt with rolled oats, a teaspoon of honey, and fruit, if someone else hadn't eaten it already. Lucky Charms were calorically inefficient, according to his stepmother Maratelle.

Fuck it. He poured the cereal into the bowl and covered it with milk, then went to perch on the couch. Millie, who had spent the night somewhere around your feet, came up to lay next to him. Gwen had sent him a couple of texts asking where he was, and then just sent her notes when class had ended. While drunk on wine, once, he had bitched to her about how little sleep he got, and, since then, she had been buying him melatonin gummies and encouraging him to sleep through his early morning classes. You deserve it, she said, although Armitage wasn't sure he "deserved" anything, really. Working hard was the entire reason he came here.

You sat down next to him, thighs touching again, and ate your cereal with a vicious speed. By the time you finished, he was barely a quarter of the way through, so you got up and made yourself another bowl. Between mouthfuls, you determined you would be the first to speak.

"So, we should probably talk," you said. Apparently, that was the best you could come up with. 

"Is everything alright?" Hux asked, although he really meant to ask what he did wrong, and beg you to give him one more night. The desperation with which he wanted to touch you, to hold you again was staggering. He didn't remember where it came from, and it shocked him. You didn't seem any the wiser to his generally panicked state, so you continued eating the cereal.

"Yeah, just thought we might want to establish some ground rules. Like, no sex, just cuddling." Armitage nodded. "And we can end at any time one of us wants to." He nodded again. "And we shouldn't tell Gwen and Kylo. They wouldn't let us live it down." Armitage chuckled, but nodded. "Finally, I think we should promise to tell each other if we catch feelings. And just, be honest in general."

"Agreed." The final rule worried him for some reason he couldn't quite place, but he let it go. "Perhaps we could meet later in the night, when Gwen and Kylo are asleep? They tend to sleep earlier than I do, so we could meet around 12:45? Oh, and we do not have to meet each night. Just text me if you want to," he added. You smiled at him, finished your cereal, and the two of you watched garbage Netflix shows for two more hours before going back to work.

And so, your arrangement was born. Most days, he'd get a text from you in the afternoon saying something like "see you tonight?" or "hang out later?" and he knew to expect you. At 12:45 am, almost on the dot, he'd hear it. Tap tap tap tap. Always four, always quiet. What you did each night varied. Sometimes, you wanted to be quiet and rest, but, on others, you'd go through your day and tell him about what had happened in class, and he found himself telling you about his day, too. About how he loved chemistry, but was terrified of med school. Of the responsibility. His medical ethics gened with Gwen was really scaring the bejeezus out of him. 

About three nights in, you turned to him and said that you should get to know each other better. Each of you would ask 5 questions of the other, you said. He answered your questions with ease the first night. Favorite animal? Cats. Duh. Favorite TV show? Doctor Who. Best friend? Gwen, probably. Last time he went on a date? A year ago. Why become a doctor? That one was much harder. Because it felt like the right thing for him to do, he said. Because he liked it.

He asked the same questions right back. Cats, Friends, also probably Gwen, last month, and because the pay is better in computer science. He tried not to dwell on the fact that you had been on a date recently (by his standards). He casually inquired if you were still seeing them, but you told him it didn't go well. He didn't ask more questions about it.

Night over night, though he found your closeness and warmth incredible, he realized he was looking forward to hearing about your day more than anything. The tap tap tap tap on his door meant he'd ask you five questions about you--not just the you that went to classes and put food out for Millie, but the real you. The core of you. One time, when your head was on his chest and he was trying to slow his heart down so you wouldn't hear it, you asked him about his insecurities (how pale he was, that he wasn't smart enough for med school). When he asked you the same question, you listed some that baffled him. What did you mean, your voice? Or your hair? Or that you felt like you were always behind everyone else in class? It broke his heart to hear you speak about yourself like that, which he immediately told you, and regretted. He whispered into the night that you had a great voice, and he thought your hair was very good hair, and that you had literally caught up to the compsci juniors in half a year, so you could be nothing short of brilliant. He didn't see it, but a tear or two slipped out.

A month into your arrangement, Armitage took stock of his life, and realized you probably knew him better than he did. Some mornings, he'd come out of his room and find a bowl with two cups of Greek yogurt with rolled oats, a teaspoon of honey, and strawberries. Just how he liked it. And he would grab you lunch right before the dining halls closed, so that when you arrived ten minutes later after class, you could still have food. 

It was little things that alerted Phasma to whatever you two had going on. The unsubtle mooning eyes Armitage was giving you across the living room were disgusting, but confirmation. You were making he same face at him when he was poring over his books five minutes later, which was doubly disgusting, but double confirmation. It was time to do something about it.

Two days later, when she had left class, Phasma sent a text to the roommate group chat, like she always did around that time. Lunch? Within 5 minutes, Armitage had sent a thumbs up, and you had liked the message. Kylo left it on read, which was Kylo-speak for yes. Thirty minutes later, you were gathered in the Holdo Dining Hall, eating a variety of carbs, as usual. Kylo was giving a replay of something that had happened at their last match (something about their goalman getting hit in the face by the ball?), when Phasma interrupted him with your name. 

"Yeah?" You asked nonchalantly. Gwen smiled like a predator about to catch its prey, mainly because she was.

"I've got some juicy gossip about you," Gwen singsonged. Armitage's head whipped around. He didn't even realize he had been staring at you. Gossip? About you? That was probably about some party you went to. You had skipped last Saturday, and, after surviving the bone-crushing emptiness of his room, you had told Armitage the next night that the party was absolutely insane and featured multiple friends-of-friends making out. His heartbeat accelerated. What if you had kissed someone there?

"I know someone who has a crush on you."

Armitage's heart stopped.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

AN: all four of them share a brain cell, and phasma has it 99% of the time

[memesandtvshowthings]

The interviewer- a Dramione fanfic

Chapter one!

Author’s note: This is seven years after the war. Hermione is working at the ministry of magic in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in her case, the Anti-overthrow office which was established after the war to prevent the ministry from ever being overthrown again. Her job is to interview new businesses and make sure they aren’t planning anything against the ministry. 

There are a lot of pictures too! But only of the rooms, outfits, and other random things. I’m going to let you imagine the people yourselves. (Because I hate it when people show me what they’re supposed to look like!)

Hermione is 24 and Draco is… 23? Look it up. My math ain’t mathing right now!

That’s all I have for now, so, enjoy!

            September 21, 2005

Hermione’s house 

Hermione woke up to the sound of her alarm clock ringing.

(Her bedroom)

She quickly turned it off, got up, and went to her kitchen. She had a nice house. A little big, but, whatever floats your boat. 

(Her kitchen) 

She quickly made some coffee and buttered some toast. 

Once she finished, she washed her dishes and sat down on the couch to read. It was her day off so she decided to relax. 

(Her living room!)

A few minutes later, there was a tap on her window. She looked up and saw an owl. 

“Hello.” She said, opening the window for it. 

It held out its leg for her to untie, took a treat from her, and left. Once she sat back down, she read the letter.

Dear Ms. Granger,

I just wanted to let you know that tomorrow when you come in don’t bother going to your office. I need you in my office because I have arranged a meeting with the owner of a new company and I need you to interview him. I will give you more details tomorrow.

Sincerely,

                                       Kingsley Shacklebolt-                    

                                          Minister of Magic  

She reread the letter to make sure she understood it all and then put it down. 

“I wonder what business it is.” She said to herself. And picked her book back up. 

Draco’s house

Draco woke up to his alarm clock but turned it right back off. It was Saturday, he wasn’t getting up till he had to.

(His room!)

Once he finally got up, he flicked his wand to make up is bed, stumbled into the kitchen, and sat down.

(His kitchen!)

Even after an hour of extra sleep, he was still exhausted. Starting and running a business was harder than he thought. Once he ate breakfast (Ham and Eggs) he went into the living room.

(His living room!)

He sat down and picked up his coffee, thinking about random things. There was a peck at the window so Draco got up, already knowing it was an owl, and untied the letter. Opening it he read,

Dearest Draco,

Hello! I was just wondering if you would like to join me for lunch? Please respond!

Love,

         Pansy

He rolled his eyes. He had been getting the same letter every Saturday since his father had passed. He had only accepted the first time because he thought it was just a friendly gesture. Turns out, she only wanted his money. So he had declined making up an excuse every time since then. But today he just wrote, 

No.

And that was it. He was too exhausted to think of an excuse. 

Hermione’s house 

Hermione woke up with a jolt. Her stomach felt like it was burning. 

“Gosh, I’m hungry!” She said to herself. She looked at the time, 1:30, and made some lunch. Once she finished, she decided to sit on her porch. 

(Her porch!)

So she went outside and right as she was about to sit down she saw a package by her door. She went to pick it up wondering who would have sent her this. Opening it she saw a note that said,

Hey Hermione!

Sorry I didn’t send this by owl, it was too big! I hope you like it and Happy Birthday!

Love,

         Ginny

She opened the box and found a beautiful red lace dress.

(The dress!)

She couldn’t help but gasp when she saw it. It was…Perfect! She couldn’t wait for an opportunity to wear it.

Draco’s house

Draco woke up to Blaise Zabini tapping his shoulder 

“Hey mate, wake up!” He said.

Draco grunted and said, 

“I regret giving you a key.”

“Whatever. C’mon, let’s go somewhere!”

“I’m to tired.”

“Aww! Come on! We can go to lunch… on me.”

Draco immediately got up saying.

“I’ll be ready in five.”

Blaise just  laughed and sat down to wait.

Draco came back with a green sweater and jeans.

(His outfit!)

“Alright, where are we going?”

Ok! That was chapter one! Stay tuned to my page for more!

[hermioneneedsdraco]

The interviewer

(Keep in mind that this is my first fanfic ever!)

Author’s note: This is seven years after the war. Hermione is working at the ministry of magic in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, in her case, the Anti-overthrow office which was established after the war to prevent the ministry from ever being overthrown again. Her job is to interview new businesses and make sure they aren’t planning anything against the ministry. 

There are a lot of pictures too! But only of the rooms, outfits, and other random things. I’m going to let you imagine the people yourselves. (Because I hate it when people show me what they’re supposed to look like!)

Hermione is 24 and Draco is… 23? Look it up. My math ain’t mathing right now!

That’s all I have for now, so, enjoy!

            September 21, 2005

Hermione’s house 

Hermione woke up to the sound of her alarm clock ringing.

(Her bedroom)

She quickly turned it off, got up, and went to her kitchen. She had a nice house. A little big, but, whatever floats your boat.

(Her kitchen) 

She quickly made some coffee and buttered some toast. 

Once she finished, she washed her dishes and sat down on the couch to read. It was her day off so she decided to relax. 

(Her living room!)

A few minutes later, there was a tap on her window. She looked up and saw an owl. 

“Hello.” She said, opening the window for it. 

It held out its leg for her to untie, took a treat from her, and left. Once she sat back down, she read the letter.

Dear Ms. Granger,

I just wanted to let you know that tomorrow when you come in don’t bother going to your office. I need you in my office because I have arranged a meeting with the owner of a new company and I need you to interview him. I will give you more details tomorrow.

Sincerely,

                                       Kingsley Shacklebolt-                    

                                          Minister of Magic  

She reread the letter to make sure she understood it all and then put it down. 

“I wonder what business it is.” She said to herself. And picked her book back up. 

Draco’s house

Draco woke up to his alarm clock but turned it right back off. It was Saturday, he wasn’t getting up till he had to.

(His room!)

Once he finally got up, he flicked his wand to make up is bed, stumbled into the kitchen, and sat down.

(His kitchen!)

Even after an hour of extra sleep, he was still exhausted. Starting and running a business was harder than he thought. Once he ate breakfast (Ham and Eggs) he went into the living room.

(His living room!)

He sat down and picked up his coffee, thinking about random things. There was a peck at the window so Draco got up, already knowing it was an owl, and untied the letter. Opening it he read,

Dearest Draco,

Hello! I was just wondering if you would like to join me for lunch? Please respond!

Love,

         Pansy

He rolled his eyes. He had been getting the same letter every Saturday since his father had passed. He had only accepted the first time because he thought it was just a friendly gesture. Turns out, she only wanted his money. So he had declined making up an excuse every time since then. But today he just wrote, 

No.

And that was it. He was too exhausted to think of an excuse. 

Hermione’s house 

Hermione woke up with a jolt. Her stomach felt like it was burning. 

“Gosh, I’m hungry!” She said to herself. She looked at the time, 1:30, and made some lunch. Once she finished, she decided to sit on her porch. 

(Her porch!)

So she went outside and right as she was about to sit down she saw a package by her door. She went to pick it up wondering who would have sent her this. Opening it she saw a note that said,

Hey Hermione!

Sorry I didn’t send this by owl, it was too big! I hope you like it and Happy Birthday!

Love,

         Ginny

She opened the box and found a beautiful red lace dress.

(The dress!)

She couldn’t help but gasp when she saw it. It was…Perfect! She couldn’t wait for an opportunity to wear it.

Draco’s house

Draco woke up to Blaise Zabini tapping his shoulder 

“Hey mate, wake up!” He said.

Draco grunted and said, 

“I regret giving you a key.”

“Whatever. C’mon, let’s go somewhere!”

“I’m to tired.”

“Aww! Come on! We can go to lunch… on me.”

Draco immediately got up saying.

“I’ll be ready in five.”

Blaise just  laughed and sat down to wait.

Draco came back with a green sweater and jeans.

(His outfit!)

“Alright, where are we going?”

[realm-sweet-realm]

A Road Further, Chapter 2: A Champion's Trials

A Road Further is the story of the Paldea trio going on various adventures as life goes on for them after the events of Violet.

Sorry this took so long, everyone! I accidentally wrote two chapters for Nemona (I thought I could stuff more into one chapter than I managed to) instead of one. The next chapter of hers will be released tomorrow after I fix it up.

I hope you all enjoy this!

---

Nemona woke to the sound of blinds being pulled back and a sudden light falling on her.

“Time to get up, mi hija,” came Geeta’s voice

Nemona blearily opened her eyes. Geeta was already dressed in another of her suits- grey this time- and looked alert and alive. This didn’t strike Nemona as surprising until she turned to the alarm clock and saw that it was 5:30 AM.

Wow, how does she do it? Nemona wondered as she rolled out of bed.

“You have fifteen minutes to shower. After that, we’ll get you styled for the day and discuss your team options over breakfast,” Geeta explained.

Not much later, Geeta was braiding Nemona’s hair into a tight, low braid and explaining the day ahead.

“The first round consists of eight battles, starting at nine and ending at seven.”

“With a one-hour time limit for each, industry standard?”

“Yes. And your battle today is against Leon, scheduled for 1 pm,” Geeta explained, twisting the ponytail elastic around the braid.

Nemona took a look in the mirror. She liked what she saw- she looked so mature and professional, as Geeta’s protégé should.

“This morning we’ll find you something suitable to wear and prepare your team. Let’s go.”

Geeta waited patiently as Nemona sorted through her pc boxes at the hotel’s restaurant table. If only Geeta had told her about this before, she would have prepared by now. But her feelings of failure subsided as she went through the array of creatures she’d trained over the past two treasure hunts and scribbled down the names of any particularly good candidates that crossed her sight.

Nemona looked up to Geeta. “Alright! I’ve got a list of eight candidates for my ace, listed from best to least best. First is pawmot. What do you think?”

Geeta shook her head, the gentle smile still on her face. “A Pokémon from the pikachu family is a bit underwhelming, don’t you think?”

Nemona’s enthusiasm was slightly dampened. “Well, it knows two signature moves, but pawmi is really common… Okay. How’s about lycanrock?”

Geeta shook her head again. “Same problem as the last.”

“Okay, how’s about Skeledirge? It’s big and cool-looking.”

“A starter Pokémon doesn’t seem right for a champion.”

“But… Blue and Kukui use a starter Pokémon. Leon uses two. What makes this different?”

Geeta sighed. “The leagues of the other regions already have good reputations, but the Paldea league has a lot of damage to repair on its own. Everything we do must be perfect. That is why I adopted the image I have, and I expect you to adopt a fitting image as well. Understood?”

“Yes! Absolutely! So, what do you think my ace should be? I’ll go with whatever you say!”

“Very well. Let me see your pc box.”

Nemona handed Geeta her rotom phone. Geeta took her time looking through each box, seemingly quite impressed with Nemona’s work.

“Well, ceruledge would be a good choice,” Geeta said finally, putting the phone down on the table. “It’s strong, noble-looking and native to Paldea. And we don’t have a dark-type specialist in the Paldea league yet or a dark specialist champion anywhere. You could use lokix and borrow my kingambit, and we’ll use shards to turn ceruledge’s tera type to dark. How does that sound?”

Nemona smiled awkwardly. “Well.. okay. The thing is, I haven’t used either of those. Like, at all. They aren’t very well-leveled. And I’ve never really used any dark-type, and...” Nemona trailed off.

Just then, a text from Penny appeared. Nemona snatched up the phone, smiling awkwardly. Nemona loved Penny, but if any of her friends would be saying something La Primera wouldn't approve of, it would be her.

Geeta waited for her to finish.

“And... maybe I should use something I’m more familar with?”

“Sure. Let me see that list of yours.”

Nemona looked down at the list and was hit by a sudden feeling that Geeta wouldn’t like any of her choices. She stuffed it back in her pocket. “Actually, it’s fine."

“Good. And don’t worry about their level. I brought rare candy. For now, let’s worry about your outfit and their movesets. Ready to go?”

"You bet."

Geeta got up and Nemona followed her. As they went, Nemona checked the text.

Hey. Don't let Geeta step on you too much today, it read. Here's what some of her employees say about her. Don't become one of them.

It was followed by a screenshot that Nemona didn't have the time or honestly the care to read. It made sense that Penny didn't like Geeta- she didn't like any authority figures. And she didn't value the Paldea league like Nemona did.

Their next stop was the Lillycove Department Store to figure out her new champion costume. Geeta led her straight to a locally-owned clothing store that did custom designs. It wouldn’t have stood out to most, but Nemona recognized it instantly. This was where Wallace got all his costumes made. This really was the full champion treatment! Following behind Geeta, Nemona looked to the colourful outfits on the racks, searching for inspiration. Not that she hadn’t designed about six different champion outfits for herself in her head, but she needed to choose between them somehow!

“Hello,” Geeta said to the shopkeeper, a grey-haired woman who appeared to be in her sixties. “We’re here to order an outfit for an upcoming champion.”

The woman smiled. “Excellent. Age? Measurements? Gender? Do you have a general idea of what you would like it to look like?”

“It’s this one right here,” Geeta replied, gesturing to Nemona. “You’ll have to take her measurements. She’s a dark-type user, so I’m looking for something solid black. A floor-legnth dress, perhaps, with a jacket in a secondary colour of some sort and black accents. Do you have any suggestions for the second colour?”

The shopkeeper looked Nemona over. “Hmm... I’d say something dark mauve, to contrast her eyes."

Geeta looked to Nemona and examined her as though dressing her in her head. “Yes, I can see that. Well, let’s get the measurements done.”

Geeta put a hand around Nemona’s back and guided her to the back room, where Nemona was made to strip for measurements. It struck her that she hadn’t spoken once since getting there. But it was okay. La Primera knew best. She was sure of it.

As it turned out, because Geeta was looking for something so generic, they had something very similar to it on hand. Geeta got her to try it on. The dress, which was so long it dragged on the floor, said “funeral.” The purple suit jacket said “boardroom.” It wasn’t the friendly, energetic image Nemona had dreamed of having as champion, but if this really was wrong, La Primera would notice, and if she didn’t, well, then this was the image a Paldean champion needed and Nemona would learn to like it.

“Hmm... something about this just isn’t right,” Geeta mused, looking Nemona over.

Finally! Nemona thought, lighting up.

Geeta reached out and tugged a bit of Nemona’s bangs out of the ponytail elastic, letting it fall over one of her eyes. “There. A dark-type user should have a mysterious touch. Later we’ll get you a half-mask instead, but we’re short on time. Now, let’s go figure things out with your team.” With that, they left.

Soon, the two were heading to the arena. Geeta was right about them being short on time- it was eleven, which meant that she had two hours at best to make the connection with her new team, work out their movesets, and get on stage. Geeta led her to the practice fields behind the stadium and took a seat on the bleachers.

“There you are,” Geeta said, handing Nemona her kingambit’s pokéball, three labeled bags of rare candy and a thermos of soup laced with dark tera shards. “Now do your thing.”

Nemona had tried battling with every Pokémon type under the sun, and she loved most of them. It wasn’t that she didn’t like dark types, but, well, yeah, she didn’t like dark types. Poison types turned into total sweeties once they trusted you to respect their boundaries, most ghost types were goofballs that just looked scary, but dark types... once you broke through their aloofness, you were left with creatures whose sense of playfulness was always a bit sadistic and whose reaction to a new person was “how do I stay away” or “how do I take advantage.” And their battle tactics felt like cheating. 

But for the Paldea League, she could do this.

Nemona took a deep breath and started rummaging through her bag for the pokéballs containing ceruledge and lokix. She found them and released the trio. The lokix and kingambit glared at her briefly before respectively hopping and hair-gliding off to do their own thing as cerulege stood by and watched them.

“Wait,” Nemona called, trying not to sound desperate. The two creatures turned back to her. Just forget their type, she told herself, maybe it'll be like Arven's mabosstif or Clavel's meowscarada. “Us four are going to be a team the next few days, alright guys? We’re going to win the champion tournament together. Are you with me?”

The two returned to her side, which she took as a yes.

“Alright!” Nemona said, bolder now, “First thing’s first, we gotta get you guys up to the typical level of champion Pokémon, so eat up!” She handed out the bags of rare candy, each of which had been labelled with the Pokémon's name. To the cerulege, she also handed the thermos of dark shard soup. The cerulege observed it coolly, as though suspicious.

“To change your Tera type,” she explained.

Not without hesitation, it drank the soup. Nemona could swear she saw the light in its eyes lessen as it drank. Would it be crafty and aloof like its teammates now? If only it was that easy for humans.

“Alright. Now, why don’t you show me what you’ve got so I can come up with movesets that play to your strengths. You two!” she pointed to the kingambit and cerulege, “Show me what you’ve got!”

The two blade-users lined up about fifteen feet apart on the field. Cerulege’s fiery blades shot out from its hands, and kingambit finally stood up from its throne and drew its own blades. Nemona blinked and they were jousting.

Nemona whipped out her notebook and furiously jotted down notes. Cerulege seemed to have decent speed- more speed than kingambit anyhow- but kingambit was taking physical hits like they were nothing. They both seemed pretty good in physical attack.

Cerulege ran a few steps back and hit kingambit with a flamethrower. It wasn’t a very impressive flamethrower, but it knocked the kingambit to the ground, seemingly dealing a lot of damage. Nemona took a mental note not to send kingambit out against special attackers and to replace flamethrower with a physical fire move.

Enraged, the kingambit stood up again and delivered a sucker punch to cerulege. It then called upon lokix and they took turns kicking it while it was down- a move Nemona knew as “beat up.” Finally, kingambit flung its held item- a metal plate- at cerulege, knocking it out cold.

Nemona cringed. Maybe she could do away with those moves- they weren’t very versatile anyhow. It suddenly occurred to her that lokix was also a physical attacker. What if Leon used a physical wall? Dark-type moves were full of tricks. Maybe they had a trick for this. She could work with this. She had to.

It felt like no time at all before Geeta informed Nemona that she had five minutes left to choose movesets before they had to move into the stadium. They entered the changing room and Geeta began touching up her outfit and coaching her on her presentation while Nemona watched the broadcast screen.

Leon strode into the arena with his charizard flying overhead a few feet behind him. He took his place, struck his signature pose, and let his charizard fly over him, making his cape and long purple hair flow in the wind. The crowd went wild.

As Nemona watched the screen from the changing room, Geeta gave Nemona’s jacket a final tug. “Best of luck,” she said. Nemona nodded and stepped out.

[textsinthecity]

EPISODE 1 — “PILOT”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” this is the third time this morning that the guy next door’s overly sensitive car alarm has woken me up. I rudely slammed the window close as I cursed the wrenched vehicle on my way back to the bed, hoping to catch a few more z’s before getting my day started. To say I’m no morning person would be a somewhat fair observation, but if I had things my way, I’d prefer to be wakened up by morning sex instead of the ’01 Ford Explorer conveniently parked under my window at this hour. I just don’t get it; you’d think with all the time the guy spends on that hunk of trash he’d do something about that damn security system! The wind blows too hard and it’s blaring its little heart out, being heard all through the neighborhood.

When every attempt I made to fall back asleep failed me, I glanced over towards the nightstand and saw on the clock that it was merely a quarter after seven. After a few minutes of lying there contemplating if I really needed to go to work today, I decided to use the unwarranted extra time I had to squeeze a workout into my on-going list of shit I had to do. Usually, I’m only able to get about an hour in at the gym, 30 minutes of cardio followed by 30 minutes of core training, which isn’t much, but I try to break a sweat as often as I can. Since the sun was singing through the curtains on this beautiful summer morning, I figured a run through the park would be a great idea. I couldn’t remember the last I treaded the trails, which is typically the most relaxing part of my workouts. I plug in my earbuds and tune the entire world out, and I’m telling you, it’s one of the best highs one can achieve without some much as a lighter. Little did I know, I was walking into a state of euphoria that I wouldn’t be able to come down from, well… not easily anyway.

#

After that much needed hour out at the park, I was heading back towards the parking lot after a few laps on the trials. The sun was out in full effect at that point and the back of my neck had about all it could take. Aside from the excruciating pain from the sun, and completely drenched from my run, I felt refreshed and ready to tackle the busy day ahead of me despite that unnecessary wake-up call. As I made my way to my car, I felt a slight tap on my shoulder that sent me into a full fledge panic! I thought a bug, or some other winged pest landed on me, and immediately I spun around flaring my arms about, screaming “what the fuck” in pure confusion. But what stood before me left me utterly speechless.

“I believe you dropped these about a half mile back; been trying to catch up to you and get your attention but I don’t think you could hear me anyway, man you’re fast!”. The pale, bearded Adonis stood there with his hands on his hips, obviously tickled by the mortifying performance I’d just put on. He had to be at least six-foot-four, two hundred fifty-five pounds, with arms that could put Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson to shame! Ok maybe that last part was a bit much, but man you had to see him! He’s literally perfect; tall, buff, with freckled skin that was absolutely glistening in the sunlight. As I scanned him from head to toe, I couldn’t help but notice the plethora of tattoos he was practically covered in, that and he was holding my keys. I must have really been in the zone because I hadn’t even noticed they weren’t clipped to my running belt.

“I’m so sorry, I thought you were a bug or something and I didn’t want it end up in my hair” I chuckled nervously as I tried my best to hide how embarrassed I was inside. I could’ve died on the spot after making a complete fool of myself in front of what possibly could’ve been the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

“And you were right about the ‘not hearing you’ thing, once these earbuds go in, the world shuts out, I get it all the time” I offered as an olive branch for unintentionally ignoring him, it was something I sort of got used to doing when I’m out and about. The habit I’ve built over the years was something I was trying to work on, but not really at the same time. I like tuning out and not having to deal with the unsolicited attention I get when I’m in public, especially in my workout attire which is typically short, tight, and revealing to some degree. I don’t know how some people go about their days in fitness clothes, my insecurities could never!

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I stopped you, huh?” he asked as he slowly looked me up and down, clearly intrigued by what he sees. He licks his lips and continues “You’d been out here stranded, would have to call your boyfriend to come get you or something”. Boyfriend? That’s a rather odd thing to say so casually. Was he hitting on me? “Boyfriend? What makes you think I’m gay?” I asked sarcastically, hoping he could tell that I was in fact flirting with him. Immediately he starts blushing and stammering over his words as he explains that he sees me at the gym occasionally and he’s been looking for a reason to approach me. He goes on to proclaim that running into me here, in this manner at that, had to be fate or at least a sign. “I’m Anthony by the way, ‘Tony’ but Anthony, …” he introduces him and by the look on the face he was expecting my name in return as he extends his hand for a handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Anthony. If I tell you my name, can I get my keys?” I teased as I was in no way trying to come off as another ‘easy conquest’. As fine as he was, and believe me the man was FINE, I was in rush to embarrass myself, again. I’ve come across guys like him too many times before and have come to learn to learn that most of them ain’t shit and a big waste of time. From the men here in Mayrolville to the men of my modeling day: the beautiful ones are typically the air heads with nothing to offer but dick and tension headaches. And to say I’ve had “bad luck” in the relationship department here would be an understatement. And nine times out of ten, have been left alone wishing I hadn’t done half the nasty shit I did for such a goofy ass nigga!

Before I could get too distracted by the mistakes of my horrid past, I was brought back to reality by his rebuttal. He simply folded his arms across his chest and replied in the most charismatic tone “Depends.” As I cocked my head to the side, clear confusion written upon my face, I thought about sending a quick knee to his groin and get my keeps that way. But he was cute, so I went with the better option and curse him the hell out. Not for nothing, I didn’t know this guy, and I was getting tired of standing there sweating like a hooker in church on first Sunday. I never understood why guys found that shit to be so cute.

“Look Anthony, I’m sure this shit would work on the next groupie b-“ but before I could finish my sentence, he approached me so quickly, so intensely, that it caused me to lose my train of thought. “It’s Tony, and if you’d let me finish, I was going to ask for your phone number with hopes of seeing you again, Sir” As he stood there with those smoldering eyes looking straight into my soul, I couldn’t help but think he’s after something, look at him, he’s gotta be after SOMEthing. This man could literally have anyone he wanted yet he was here, playing ransom with my keys in hopes of seeing ME again! I mean I am far from ordinary to say the very least, some might even call me ‘extraordinary’ if I’m being honest. But compared to Tony I looked like fried shit on a stick.

I couldn’t speak, I just stood there lost in his eyes. Really, I was contemplating the idea of entertaining his proposal. It’s been a very long time since I’ve gone on a date, or hell, even had someone to send me the occasional “good morning” text every now and then. But what if I make the same mistake of falling too fast too soon like I’ve done with every other man in my past. I’m getting too old to be doing this same song and dance every six months. It seems like everything goes oh so well until they finally get whatever it is they’re truly after, and then you never hear from them again. But again, he was so fucking cute, what’s the harm in taking his number instead?

I could tell he was starting to get discouraged at all the time I was taking to give him an answer, his demeanor became a bit uneasy as he chuckled nervously and said, “I’ll take that as a no?”. Still standing entirely too close for comfort, I looked up at him and extended my palm and say “I’m gonna need my keys before I let you get that information, Tony” as seductively as I could muster. Amused, he bites his lower lip before he replies, “Well technically you still haven’t told me your name, so I guess we’re both in bit of a pickle, huh?”.

At this point I’m visibly annoyed, and reluctantly I told him my name. “Now was that so hard, Gherri?” he jokes as he smiles at me, still holding my keys hostage. Before I could inquiry about my keys for a 3rd time, he goes “think fast” before tossing my keys in air, missing my extended hand, catapulting them towards the sky. “You couldn’t just hand them to me like a regular person” I snapped as they came crashing down on the roof of my silver 2019 Mercedes AMG E63. The sound of the impact made me cringe as I knew that was gonna leave a mark I’d have to pay to get out.

#

“He did what?!” Vivica, or affectionately known as Vivi, my dearest friend and unnecessarily loud companion blared through the phone. She called me as I was on my way out the door heading to the office and had we not had plans later that night, I would’ve just let it go to voicemail. I love her, but over the years I grew tired of talking on the phone with her for this exact reason. She is what some would call a free spirit, and others might call her everything but a child of god. If her breath-taking beauty didn’t do it, her awfully bad habit of saying the first thing that comes to mind will make you want to hate her guts.

I was on the turnpike headed to drop off these proofs to my editor by the time I filled Vivi in this morning’s course of events. “Yes bitch!, now I’ve got a small dent on my roof that I’m praying Lou can get out this week”. I cringed at the thought of having to find the time to get it over to my longtime mechanic, Lou, who just so happens to be Vivica’s cousin. It wasn’t that I hated going to his shop, I just really didn’t care for the obvious flirting he does knowing that it’s never going to happen. “After all these years, Gher? You know he can. Why don’t you quit all this stalling and fuck him already? He’s been after you for how long?” Vivica inquires as she doesn’t already know the answer. Lou, or ‘Louie’ as he was known throughout the neighborhood, has had a thing for me since high school. And if you knew me back then you’d wonder just as I did: what the hell does this guy see in me of all people?

I was quite the ragamuffin back then: acne, a unibrow that wouldn’t quit, and PLEASE don’t get me started on the clothes! To say I was the “ugly duckling” was a complete understatement, but with Vivi as one of the pioneers in my “glow-up”, I somehow made it through in one piece. And ever since the day my acne cleared up, she’s been on a mission to marry me off to the first wealthy suitor to cross her path. It was no surprise that she’s starting this conversation again, and although she had a point, I had zero intentions on entertaining her statement.

“Anyways, what do you think, should I call him? Would it look too eager given what happened earlier?”. I’m not sure why I asked that, it sounded just as ridiculous out loud as it did in my head, but I’d say anything to get Vi to shut the hell up about Louie. The real reason why me and him was never going to happen was the fact that he recently got engaged to the neighborhood jump-off Paulina. She’s also from the neighborhood and although shorty was a brick house and then some, her reputation exceeded her tremendously. Some might say I’m being bitter about the whole thing, but if he wasn’t still making advances and offering his services for little to nothing then I wouldn’t care. I just don’t get it, it’s like once you think you’ve got the men here figured out, they someway, somehow, pull the carpet from right up under you.

It’s never been a secret that the boy’s been bisexual since middle school, but to be such the Dominican bombshell that he was, why settle for the local harlot when you can literally have anyone? But I guess it’s true what they say: ‘birds of a feather flock together’, because Louie wasn’t exactly a saint either. He’s trolled the block a time or tow back in his prime, which is another reason why I can’t take him serious as the well-established thirty-two-year-old business owner he’s grown into today. Well that and Vivica would never let me hear the end of it. Especially after the many years she’s spent playing match maker.

“Wait! He gave you his number too?! Bitch what otha’ tea you ova’ dea holdin’ out on? I bet he’s gotta big ass dick too, huh?” she interrogated, letting it be well articulated that she’s offended by my withholding of information. If it wasn’t the fact that her comment was drenched in sarcasm, her tone said it all; her Spanish accent only comes out when she’s upset or trying to land a racially ambiguous role in whatever field of entertainment she chose to specialize in that week. Did I forget to mention she’s also a working actress? Professionally trained at that, making her even more of a threat to the big screen.

“Oh yeah, he said it was for ‘insurance purposes’ in case my guy couldn’t fix the dent he caused. I didn’t want to make him feel any worse by turning it down, I could tell he was already feeling pretty stupid after his attempt to be cool.” I replied, not even phased by her earlier reaction, for I had reached my destination and was on my second lap around the company lot trying to find a parking space. If I was lucky enough, a spot close to the door would become available and save me a trip across a parking lot the size of a football field. Not to mention I was now fifteen minutes late instead of the promised five. I continued “I can’t wait to tell you and the girls all about it later. We’re still on for the grand opening of that new bar downtown tonight, right?”. This had to be the third time this week I’ve had to confirm with her. She’s such a busy woman that you’d have to call and confirm her attendance an hour before anything she’s invited to, because there’s a good chance she’ll flake.

Vivian Monroe, the LA dreaming working model/actress/radio and social personality is the driven, hardworking party girl in our bunch who’s indisputably always working. Whether it’s a last minute ‘go-see’, which is what models refer to an open audition as, or her driving all across the country for actual auditions, our girl is chasing her dreams and won’t let anything stop her. On the other hand however, there was Vivica Anderson, devoted sister, friend, and the ‘wild child’ in my life that I can trust with just about anything. “Ummm, what time was that again? I totally forgot to check my schedule before I agreed to that, I think I have a shoot on the other side of town. Let me check and call you back” *click* I guess a ‘goodbye’ would have been too much?

#

Awkward silence and some serious tension filled the office as I sat across from my Editor-in-Chief Russell Capone. The 41-year-old overworked publisher for the longest running news publication company in Mayrolville, NY was getting ready to serve me up a fresh plate of shit for being late, again. He’s always despised freelancers, for as he puts it, “freelancing with my time and money” and my now 25-minute delayed arrival wasn’t helping., on top of we’ve bumped heads quite a bit throughout the course of my time here. I signed onto the company about 6 months ago as a “Freelance Content Creator”, which I later discovered was nothing more than a glorified temp. I had the freedom to take whatever photos I wanted for the topics THEY wanted me to cover, and if it wasn’t to their satisfaction, it would be scrapped and started all over again. Compared to some of the more syndicated companies I’ve worked for in the past, not much has changed but the content. Thankfully I have my blog to fulfill the freedom that I desperately yearned for.

Aside from the constant friction with Russell, I was pretty content here at “The Observant Gazette”. I had a very flexible schedule, steady work, and for the days that I had to be in house for whatever reason, I had a pretty kick-ass office if I do say so myself. Part of my flexibility was I had the option of working remotely eighty to ninety percent of the time. I typically only stop in when I have a deadline to submit, like today. The only downside to that is, I have to see him every time I’m in the building, and it’s usually a lot longer than I’d prefer it to be, also like today.

As I sat there pretending to care about the umpteenth lecture on punctuality Russell felt compelled to deliver, I took delight in the fact that a lot of my previous works from a lot of the publishers I’ve worked with is still doing fairly well thanks to the internet of course. The handsome revenues allowed me the freedom to live comfortably and contently for a guy who’s not even 30 yet. Apart from all the things I mentioned before, THAT truly made things around here more bearable on days like this. I wish he’d shut the hell up already and just take my clips and cut my check. I’ve got him down to a science these last few months though; he’ll bitch, then he’ll moan, toss his power around a bit and finally relinquish my pay. To save time, I usually interject about ten minutes in with an apology and a lame excuse that he surprisingly doesn’t bat an eye to. He knows I’m a valuable asset around here and even though I may be late, my work is right on time EVERYTIME, and it would be hard to replace someone as dedicated as I am when I really don’t have to be. It’s the glue that keeps him and from fallen apart, as I like to say.

After about an hour of Russell and his tirade at the Gazette, my tension headache from his north jersey nature of talking entirely too loud finally easing up, I was back in my car debating whether or not to go to the gym. In all actuality I just wanted to run into Tony again. “what thee actual fuck, Gher” I blurted as I started the car. What was wrong with me? I felt like a kid again; after only one encounter I was ready to throw two middle fingers to the wind and risk it all. Was I that lonely? Maybe. Or was I just smitten for the first time in so long that I forgot how it felt? Either way, I wasn’t going to find the answer sitting behind the wheel in this parking lot that’s for sure. As I made my way home to plunder through my closet for a third time, I couldn’t help but take delight in the fact that it was finally Friday, my work for the week was finally submitted, and most importantly, me and the girls were long overdue for this night out on the town.

Mayrolville, much like any other metropolis, has a slew of local and commercial gems hidden throughout the city. From its diverse population of 64,235 residents, a melting pot of ethnicities and cultures, to its ‘Art-Deco’ aesthetic being one of the many tourist attractions designed by the mayor, this city really is a charming place to be. Contrary to it namesake, there was always something wonderful to indulge in, whether it’s the old school diners that bring in a lot of summertime tourism, some even being featured on the Food Network, or the water parks and wildlife reserves not too far from here. Being raised here however gave me a rather different outlook on the place I now call home. It was dull, lackluster, and on a rapid decline for years when I was coming up. It wasn’t until I left for college that the city made a complete 180 degree turn and become the megatropolis it is today.

And today, tonight uncoincidentally enough, was opening night at ‘Grigoria’s’, the hottest new restobar and lounge to hit the trendy Downtown Business District. Grand openings of any sort usually draw a fairly decent crowd in such an overpopulated place like this. And the Italian owned-and-operated hotspot couldn’t have picked a better place to be. The DBD, as the locals refer to it, housed the city’s most popular bars, eateries, a spacious parking garage, and it was in the middle of one of the biggest tourist attractions in town: Historical Downtown Mayrolville. We were one of the leading production cities during the industrial revolution and much of the architect throughout the area was designed during that time period, with plenty upkeep over the years. Some of these buildings include 2 museums names after some of the wealthy families who invested in the start of our great city.

#

As I was making my way to the restobar, walking the short block and a half from the parking garage due to limited on-street parking, I could hear faintly in the distance “There he is!”. To my pleasant surprise it was my good friend Aloura Canton, standing in line flaring her arms about trying to get my attention. One of the many perks that came with working for the local press was the fact that I can usually skip the line with my press pass. I’m not sure if that’s a thing or not as I’ve only done it occasionally, but I haven’t been told I can’t yet, so c’est la vie!

From the look on her face I could see she was thrilled to see me. And accompanying Aloura were the two people to complete our circle, and they were Naomi Bronson and Sapphyre Underwood. We all got together that evening not only for the premiere of ‘Grigoria’s’, but to also celebrate Aloura, or Lori, who as of today is the youngest Lead Broker at the local and quite successful Insurance Firm here in Mayrolville. After seven years of being the only woman of color at the firm, she was offered a promotion that she couldn’t refused; a spacious corner office, a staff of twelve lawyers with impeccable records, and a raise that made her many years as an underwriter and apprentice worth it. Considering her first love had been journalism, she was truly grateful to have this new role and the responsibilities bestowed upon her.

“Where’s Vi? Lemme guess, she’s not coming, huh?” Sapphyre asked in an obviously sarcastic demeanor. I never understood how someone so outspoken could be so well known and respected around here. She somewhat had a very bad habit of being “overly critical” at times that doesn’t really call for it. “You ought to know by now; she’s either with Gher upon arrival or she’s not coming. You know she’s connected to him at the hip” Lori teased in an effort to ease the brewing tension between me and Sapphyre. “And HELLO to you too, bitch, how are you? Oh, I’m just fine thanks for asking” I dryly retour to Sapphyre who was already pressing the last good nerve I had left. “Right! We haven’t even made it to the door yet before you get started with your shit” Naomi jokingly added while playfully nudging Sapphyre in the side, causing her salty character to change almost in an instance to the sweet, fun-loving vixen that I knew and loved.

After exchanging proper salutations and explaining to the girls that Vicki had a gig and wouldn’t be joining us, we made our way towards the door. Upon skipping the line to get in, we were greeted by a cute twenty something hostess, wearing all black except for her award-winning smile that I couldn’t help but admire. As we made our way through the stunning establishment, I couldn’t help but be blown away by the décor and the ambience of the restobar. We were making our way through the lounge that reminded me of the 40/40 bar or the restaurant from the Robbie DeNiro classic “Casino” where Ace made his proposal to Ginger. Past the lounge was the twenty-foot-long mirror bar stocked with everything from Dom Pérignon to Grey Goose and every neighborhood favorite in between. The hostess informed us that our table was still be prepared and offered us the bar to wait until then.

“Why set the reservation if we’re still going to have to wait!” Sapphyre complained as we gave the awfully cute bartender our drink orders. “Relax, Lisa, it’s Friday and if you hadn’t noticed, it’s pretty packed in here” I only called her by her middle name to piss her off, it’s something we’ve been doing for years. As the girls went on to conduct small talk amongst themselves, I couldn’t get enough of the aesthetic. The hotspot gave off a NYC vibe with a touch of elegance that made a lot of the bars around here look obsolete to say the least. There was even a roof-top patio for dining and live entertainment with a grand piano AND a live band! It doesn’t get any fancier than that! Even the artwork was impressive: several murals of popular cities and villages in Italy, Sicily, and New York that decorated the main dining room, famous singers from Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack to Billie Holiday to Eartha Kitt lined the walls of the bar/lounge area, and almost every room in the establishment, bathroom included, paid homage to “the old country” from grapes and vineyards to friendly reminders to wash your hands translated from Italian. Before I could get too captivated by the allure of the trendy hotspot, I could see the hostess on her way back to show us to our table.

#

Laughter filled the air as me and the girls sat around catching up, exchanging stories about our work weeks over our meal. If the ambience didn’t bring you back to Grigoria’s, then the food definitely will! The evening was going so well that I almost forgot we were here to congratulate Aloura. It had been a very long since the four of us got together and I couldn’t complain about all the time we spent getting reacquainted. With our busy schedules and equally busy personal lives, we took advantage of any time we’re blessed to have with each other.

*ding ding* I tap my champagne flute to signal for the table’s attention. As I raise my glass and get up on my feet, I start my toast:

“Aloura, I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am to be here celebrating this tremendous occasion. I remember when you were a bright-eyed underwriter who was just happy to be there. You’ve endured countless trials and tribulations to get to where you are today, and now that you’ve finally made it to THIS point, I wish you nothing but success, happiness, and a dope designer for that fabulous corner office of yours! You’ve busted your ass to get to where you are and for that you deserved to be celebrated in the most extraordinary fashion possible. Congratulations Lori, here’s to being thirty and flirty and thriving, honey!

As much as she deserves it, Aloura hated big scenes and being put on the spot. And it didn’t help that my toast caught the attention of most of the patrons in the dining room either. Although she was red with embarrassment, I could tell the gesture truly touched her as she dabbed her eyes with her napkin to avoid smudging her makeup. Her poised, reserved allure was one of the many things I loved about her. But just as conservative as she was, she had a wild side and a personality that was almost impossible not to love.

As the evening progressed, as the drinks kept flowing, I could feel the urge to spill the beans on my encounter with Tony. In hopes of keeping the morning run-in to myself I stroke up random conversation to take my mind off it. I learned over the years that it’s best to hold onto good news until you’ve seen a return on that investment. When you prematurely share the details of a potential blessing, you can easily talk it straight into oblivion. Or at least, that’s been my experience. People can kill a good thing with their negative energy before the good thing ini question can even grow and I’m really anxious to see where things can go with Tony, or if they can even go at all.

“So ladies, what’s new in the love department? Any new conquests of interest?” I hesitantly inquire while taking a rather big sip of my second Old Fashioned. I tried to avoid direct eye contact because I was the terrible liar whose face always gave it away within seconds of any interrogation. Also, as four single individuals with four completely different views on love, life, men, and sex, it’s a pretty tricky topic to touch on. Especially with a dose, or two, of liquid courage on your side. Luckily for me I was able to handle my liquor pretty well nowadays compared to my younger years, but I still wasn’t going to take the chance.

“Well me and Michael have been getting pretty close lately. We’ve gone out 3 times this week alone. And…” Aloura paused, and the look on her face would make you think what she was going to say next was the ultimate sin. “AND?!?!” Naomi, the headstrong realist, blurted abruptly as if to motion to Aloura to get to the point, like we were all thinking. She was almost as jaded as I was when it came to men, or the lack thereof, in Mayrolville, and clearly over this conversation already. “Did you finally kiss him goodnight or something” she continued, poking fun at the fact that Aloura, who we affirmatively refer to as the ‘perpetual hopeless romantic’, took a slower approach with her potential suitors. And as old fashioned as it was, I personally applauded her on her stance of waiting for the right time, compared to the illicit anytime like many of us have done a time or two in our past.

“I’ll have you know we did much more than kiss… when he stayed over two nights ago” Aloura beamed, evidently relieved to have finally shared the news with us, leaving Naomi to eat her words. And leaving the rest of us to pick our faces up off the floor. “Aww shit!, our little girl is out here laying it low and spreading it WIDE! Now that’s definitely something worth toasting to!” Sapphyre proclaimed as she raised her glass and gave Lori her stamp of approval.

“Well I’ll be damned” Naomi added, who was still just as jolted as I was. “Leave it to Lori to end the night with a BANG... get it?” she laughed as she reaches across the table to hug Aloura for all of her recent accomplishments. “BANG? Now that’s something I could go for right about now” Sapphyre stated, as seductively as possible, as our waiter quietly placed the check on the table, but not before getting sized up by the insatiable vixen herself. “Ugh, have you no shame or class Saph?’ Aloura blurted, clearly upset at Sapphyre and her advances. For as long as we knew her, Sapphyre has always been a very ‘liberated spirit’ who was not afraid to display her sexuality.

Being a registered nurse and one of the owners of the local outreach clinic, she knew that there was nothing wrong with her ability to exude sex appeal. She was tested regularly and was the one who kept us informed on the latest sexual trends, diseases, and treatments. To say she loved sex would be modest, but the truth of the matter was that if Sapphyre was a man then it wouldn’t even be a topic of discussion. But as successful, educated, independent woman having just as much sex as any man in her position, it’ll always cause a bit of taboo.

“Ok so now we need details, how was the dick?!” Naomi chimed in, taking one last dig for evening knowing Aloura would never ‘kiss and tell’. All Lori could do was roll her eyes and giggle as she sipped her wine, feeling confident and sexier than she’s felt in years. “Well, talk about a way to cap off the evening, huh?” I asked the table, still buzzing from Lori’s revelation, or possible that third Old Fashioned.

#

As our celebration ended and as we said our goodbyes, I couldn’t help but to think of how truly fortunate I was to be surrounded by such amazing people. And although there wasn’t a certain someone special in my life at this particular moment in time, there was love all around me even when I had given up on it a long time ago. With having my fair share of let downs and heartbreaks, I built up a wall and dared anyone to try to get over it and its barbed wire lining. The games, lies, and disappointments drove me to a place where I had to choose to either protect my peace or become a product of my trauma.

After that disastrous dumpster fire of a relationship I found myself in for four years, the latter two years were of me kicking a dead dog and expecting it to holler, I swore off love and men altogether. I told myself that I would save myself for one who is not only worthy of my heart, but for a man who’s deserving of it. To me being worthy means more than just taking an interest in me, just because a man wants me doesn’t mean he’s necessarily ready for me. A deserving man will possess all the attributes of a worthy man, but he won’t have to be told hold to touch me, or even how to hold me. He wouldn’t have to be told how to kiss me or please me because he will already know how to before I even hit the door. A deserving man will understand that before he can enter me he must first stroke my mind with an intellectual libido that I’ve never seen before.

Lastly, that deserving man will have to be secure within himself above anything. I can not deny that at times I can be a lot to handle, and sometimes hard to deal with, but these complications and imperfections makes me who I am. The deserving man who is made for me will come and scoop all this up and he’ll never let go. Will Anthony be that deserving man to save me from this seemingly perpetual solitude? Or am I once again getting ahead of myself again? Hopefully time will tell…

[news365timesindia]

[ad_1] Luvnith Sisodia in action. PC – Maharaja Trophy The only thought that flashes in the mind while envisaging Luvnith Sisodia’s cricketing skills is loads of talent. Unfortunately, fate hasn’t exactly been kind to him. For one reason or the other, the dashing left-hand wicketkeeper-batter has had to forgo opportunities that came his way.  Last week, he was bought by Kolkata Knight Riders for INR 30 lakhs in the 2025 IPL Auction. As a result, he will now get a chance to ply his trade at a ground where a fluffed chance resulted in him being dropped from the state side. Perhaps, the stars have started to align for Sisodia to make an impact on the grandest of stages.  “My entire journey has been a rollercoaster,” he quipped when he spoke to RevSportz. “There was one match that we were playing at Eden Gardens, against Punjab, in the Syed Mushtaq Ali Trophy. I happened to drop a catch, and we lost that game. From there on, I didn’t play senior cricket for two years. Now I am going to kick-start my journey for Kolkata Knight Riders at Eden Gardens. It is very poetic.” Even during the recently concluded IPL Auction, his fortunes seemed to have swung back and forth, almost like the pendulum of an old clock. On day 1, there were no takers for Sisodia as he went unsold. Just around 24 hours later, Sisodia was back in the mix as KKR bagged his services at the fag end of the auction. Sisodia recounted another of his topsy-turvy journeys with a tinge of emotion.  “I was watching the auction from the start, my name was up there, I was unsold, I was a little sad,” he said. “I then realised that life goes on, you still have to keep working hard till you get there. I just slept that day, I had dinner and spent time with my family. Next day, I went for my training. Then, while having dinner with my mother, suddenly one of my friends messaged. Aakanksh (his agent) also called. I was wondering what is happening, as everybody is calling. That is when I got to know that KKR had picked me.” Sisodia went on to add: “My dad was travelling, it was just my mother and I. My mother saw that I was a little bit disappointed and made some tasty food for me. We were eating together, we were just generally discussing things. I had my injuries, just before my Ranji Trophy debut. Working hard for Ranji, suddenly before a match that you’re expected to play, you get injured. There were so many emotions (flowing), back and forth. Suddenly, the phone just started ringing. It was a happy time. Mum and I cherished that moment.” One of his injury setbacks came during the 2022 IPL. A couple of years later, his dream of representing Karnataka in a Ranji Trophy game seemed to have all but materialised. But fate decided something else was in store for him.  “The only thing is that the injury I had when I was with RCB in 2022 was unfortunate,” he said. “It had nothing to do with my fitness. The recent injury I had, the ball hit just above my wrist, the metacarpal. So, it is just an unfortunate thing. That is very hard to digest, sometimes you can’t do anything about it. It is also about missing out on opportunities. The opportunities are at your doorstep and taken away from you as it is not in your control.”  Amid numerous setbacks, Sisodia has showcased sparks of brilliance with the willow. Some of those innings give an inkling about his game-breaking potential. Around three years ago, he had cracked an astonishing 129-ball, 312 in a Corporate one-day tournament. In the recent past, he compiled a stunning innings of 187 against Mumbai, in the Dr (Capt) K Thimmappiah Memorial Tournament.  Such was the impact of his knock that KSCA Secretary XI took the innings lead, despite Mumbai compiling a total well in excess of 400. It has to be also observed that India cricketer, Shardul Thakur, was a part of Mumbai’s attack.  “About that 300, I have no words to say,” remarked Sisodia. “It just kept happening, I was connecting everything that day. It was just flowing. I had another innings that I played against Mumbai in the Thimmapiah tournament, the red-ball tournament.

We were playing the quarterfinal, we were pursuing about 500 runs. I got 188 (187) and we won the game. That was also a very nice innings, I cherish that innings. From there I got a call-up for the Ranji Trophy, this was something special.”  Sisodia also has been a consistent performer in the Maharaja Trophy, having notched up over 300 runs in a couple of seasons. One of the highlights of his efforts in that tournament was a hundred versus Hubli Tigers last year. The essence of his innings was the way he handled the spinners – picking the length early to use the depth of the crease, alongside essaying slog-sweeps.   There was much more to that knock than just bland description. “About that knock in the Maharaja Trophy, the hundred I got, there is a story behind it,” explained Sisodia. “I didn’t have a great start to that tournament. There were so many negative things going around like ‘he can’t get runs’, this and that. It is very special because as soon as someone says you can’t do it, the next day, you wake up, put all the effort and make it happen. Basically, you prove yourself wrong, and show it to yourself that you can do things that people think you won’t be able to do.” Despite all the setbacks, Sisodia has continued to chisel out his game in order to upgrade his batting and wicket-keeping skills. “I had to really work hard on the mental side of the game, like improving my game awareness and reading situations better,” he said. “Of course, (improving) skills  is a never-ending thing, you have to always keep learning. Every session I practice, or play, I learn a lot of things. I have been working on a lot of shots as well. Looking to play clean cricket, of course – the reverse sweeps, the scoops and all that. Basically, shots all around the ground, 360 degrees. “Last year, I got a nice diving catch off Kaverappa, that is a very good memory. There have been times when people said, ‘Luvnith doesn’t keep well, his keeping skills are bad’. Then you go out and do good things in a live game, it feels like all your hard work has paid off.” All the above-mentioned setbacks also make you wonder about the kind of support he might have received from his family. Luvnith talks glowingly about his parents – Sujith and Sunitha Sisodia. “I wouldn’t have been here if not for my parents,” he said. “A lot of relatives used to say, ‘What is cricket? Billions of people play it. What will he do? Make him study.’ But my parents used to always speak to me and ask what I really wanted to do. They were always behind my back. I can’t express it in words, just pure support from them. “Back then, I used to eat good food. Once my mum said, ‘this is too healthy for you.’ She put me in a sport, so that I would move around and all that. She put me in a skating class. I didn’t really like skating afterwards. So, there was a cricket ground behind my house called the Central College Cricket Ground. My mum just enrolled me in a camp. From there, it just started. Within one year, I represented Under-14 for Karnataka.” At just 24, Sisodia has already navigated his share of ups and downs. However, he seems to have found a way to maintain his composure. Outside of cricket, playing video games with his Karnataka teammates is one of his go-to options to keep himself refreshed. “I like to watch movies, spend some time with family and close friends. Of late, I have been playing a lot of PUBGs with the Karnataka teammates,” he said. “So, I, Manish (Pandey) and the rest of them play a lot of PUBGs.” KKR’s fans and the think tank would be hoping for Sisodia to blend his sparkling batting with a touch of calmness at Eden Gardens. Also, they will keep their fingers crossed and wish for destiny to smile on the talented cricketer.  Sisodia signed off with the following words. “It is a great feeling to be a part of such a lovely franchise,” he said. “I will give everything that I have for the team’s goals and for the betterment of the team, for just making the team win.” The

post Shaped by fate and setbacks, Luvnith Sisodia wills himself to try once more appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

[news365times]

[ad_1] Luvnith Sisodia in action. PC – Maharaja Trophy The only thought that flashes in the mind while envisaging Luvnith Sisodia’s cricketing skills is loads of talent. Unfortunately, fate hasn’t exactly been kind to him. For one reason or the other, the dashing left-hand wicketkeeper-batter has had to forgo opportunities that came his way.  Last week, he was bought by Kolkata Knight Riders for INR 30 lakhs in the 2025 IPL Auction. As a result, he will now get a chance to ply his trade at a ground where a fluffed chance resulted in him being dropped from the state side. Perhaps, the stars have started to align for Sisodia to make an impact on the grandest of stages.  “My entire journey has been a rollercoaster,” he quipped when he spoke to RevSportz. “There was one match that we were playing at Eden Gardens, against Punjab, in the Syed Mushtaq Ali Trophy. I happened to drop a catch, and we lost that game. From there on, I didn’t play senior cricket for two years. Now I am going to kick-start my journey for Kolkata Knight Riders at Eden Gardens. It is very poetic.” Even during the recently concluded IPL Auction, his fortunes seemed to have swung back and forth, almost like the pendulum of an old clock. On day 1, there were no takers for Sisodia as he went unsold. Just around 24 hours later, Sisodia was back in the mix as KKR bagged his services at the fag end of the auction. Sisodia recounted another of his topsy-turvy journeys with a tinge of emotion.  “I was watching the auction from the start, my name was up there, I was unsold, I was a little sad,” he said. “I then realised that life goes on, you still have to keep working hard till you get there. I just slept that day, I had dinner and spent time with my family. Next day, I went for my training. Then, while having dinner with my mother, suddenly one of my friends messaged. Aakanksh (his agent) also called. I was wondering what is happening, as everybody is calling. That is when I got to know that KKR had picked me.” Sisodia went on to add: “My dad was travelling, it was just my mother and I. My mother saw that I was a little bit disappointed and made some tasty food for me. We were eating together, we were just generally discussing things. I had my injuries, just before my Ranji Trophy debut. Working hard for Ranji, suddenly before a match that you’re expected to play, you get injured. There were so many emotions (flowing), back and forth. Suddenly, the phone just started ringing. It was a happy time. Mum and I cherished that moment.” One of his injury setbacks came during the 2022 IPL. A couple of years later, his dream of representing Karnataka in a Ranji Trophy game seemed to have all but materialised. But fate decided something else was in store for him.  “The only thing is that the injury I had when I was with RCB in 2022 was unfortunate,” he said. “It had nothing to do with my fitness. The recent injury I had, the ball hit just above my wrist, the metacarpal. So, it is just an unfortunate thing. That is very hard to digest, sometimes you can’t do anything about it. It is also about missing out on opportunities. The opportunities are at your doorstep and taken away from you as it is not in your control.”  Amid numerous setbacks, Sisodia has showcased sparks of brilliance with the willow. Some of those innings give an inkling about his game-breaking potential. Around three years ago, he had cracked an astonishing 129-ball, 312 in a Corporate one-day tournament. In the recent past, he compiled a stunning innings of 187 against Mumbai, in the Dr (Capt) K Thimmappiah Memorial Tournament.  Such was the impact of his knock that KSCA Secretary XI took the innings lead, despite Mumbai compiling a total well in excess of 400. It has to be also observed that India cricketer, Shardul Thakur, was a part of Mumbai’s attack.  “About that 300, I have no words to say,” remarked Sisodia. “It just kept happening, I was connecting everything that day. It was just flowing. I had another innings that I played against Mumbai in the Thimmapiah tournament, the red-ball tournament.

We were playing the quarterfinal, we were pursuing about 500 runs. I got 188 (187) and we won the game. That was also a very nice innings, I cherish that innings. From there I got a call-up for the Ranji Trophy, this was something special.”  Sisodia also has been a consistent performer in the Maharaja Trophy, having notched up over 300 runs in a couple of seasons. One of the highlights of his efforts in that tournament was a hundred versus Hubli Tigers last year. The essence of his innings was the way he handled the spinners – picking the length early to use the depth of the crease, alongside essaying slog-sweeps.   There was much more to that knock than just bland description. “About that knock in the Maharaja Trophy, the hundred I got, there is a story behind it,” explained Sisodia. “I didn’t have a great start to that tournament. There were so many negative things going around like ‘he can’t get runs’, this and that. It is very special because as soon as someone says you can’t do it, the next day, you wake up, put all the effort and make it happen. Basically, you prove yourself wrong, and show it to yourself that you can do things that people think you won’t be able to do.” Despite all the setbacks, Sisodia has continued to chisel out his game in order to upgrade his batting and wicket-keeping skills. “I had to really work hard on the mental side of the game, like improving my game awareness and reading situations better,” he said. “Of course, (improving) skills  is a never-ending thing, you have to always keep learning. Every session I practice, or play, I learn a lot of things. I have been working on a lot of shots as well. Looking to play clean cricket, of course – the reverse sweeps, the scoops and all that. Basically, shots all around the ground, 360 degrees. “Last year, I got a nice diving catch off Kaverappa, that is a very good memory. There have been times when people said, ‘Luvnith doesn’t keep well, his keeping skills are bad’. Then you go out and do good things in a live game, it feels like all your hard work has paid off.” All the above-mentioned setbacks also make you wonder about the kind of support he might have received from his family. Luvnith talks glowingly about his parents – Sujith and Sunitha Sisodia. “I wouldn’t have been here if not for my parents,” he said. “A lot of relatives used to say, ‘What is cricket? Billions of people play it. What will he do? Make him study.’ But my parents used to always speak to me and ask what I really wanted to do. They were always behind my back. I can’t express it in words, just pure support from them. “Back then, I used to eat good food. Once my mum said, ‘this is too healthy for you.’ She put me in a sport, so that I would move around and all that. She put me in a skating class. I didn’t really like skating afterwards. So, there was a cricket ground behind my house called the Central College Cricket Ground. My mum just enrolled me in a camp. From there, it just started. Within one year, I represented Under-14 for Karnataka.” At just 24, Sisodia has already navigated his share of ups and downs. However, he seems to have found a way to maintain his composure. Outside of cricket, playing video games with his Karnataka teammates is one of his go-to options to keep himself refreshed. “I like to watch movies, spend some time with family and close friends. Of late, I have been playing a lot of PUBGs with the Karnataka teammates,” he said. “So, I, Manish (Pandey) and the rest of them play a lot of PUBGs.” KKR’s fans and the think tank would be hoping for Sisodia to blend his sparkling batting with a touch of calmness at Eden Gardens. Also, they will keep their fingers crossed and wish for destiny to smile on the talented cricketer.  Sisodia signed off with the following words. “It is a great feeling to be a part of such a lovely franchise,” he said. “I will give everything that I have for the team’s goals and for the betterment of the team, for just making the team win.” The

post Shaped by fate and setbacks, Luvnith Sisodia wills himself to try once more appeared first on Sports News Portal | Latest Sports Articles | Revsports. [ad_2] Source link

[dsandrvk]

Thursday, August 1 - Broome to sailing away

We got up shortly after sunrise, packed our bags, cleaned up our apartment, and were on our way towards downtown Broome by 9 AM. We checked out the hotel where we were supposed to leave our bags and also later take our shuttle from, and they were just finishing setting up when we arrived and we were able to leave our bags earlier than we thought. We found out we were scheduled on the 12:30 bus, which gave us a few hours to explore more of Broome.

We had seen many of the highlights the day before, and most of Broome today is jewelry stores selling pearls, and t-shirt an.d souvenir shops. The rebuilt metal sided buildings resembled many of the cruise port shopping areas in the Caribbean - even Chinatown was mostly tourist traps. The one interesting place was the Sun movie theater, which I had read about before. It's over 100 years old, and has been in continuous operation since 1916. The front area is open air, but covered, but the screen and seating are in an open courtyard. They currently show first-run movies - a double feature every evening. In the "lobby" they have lots of old projectors and publicity displays from the golden era of movies. It would have been fun to take in a show, but it was far from our apartment, and we were just too tired the first night, and riding camels the second.

Wandering around town, it's hard to believe there would be enough traffic and sales to keep at least 10 pearl jewelry stores in business, especially since many of the ships that cruise here only don't for several months in their winter. Cable Beach is also popular for tourists, but it's on the other side of the peninsula, and has its own tourist infrastructure. While we were downtown we did check out the original jetty used by the pearl industry - now the area is so silted up it would be impossible to get boats to dock there.

Unlike yesterday's cloudy morning, today it was sunny and getting quite hot, so we decided we had seen enough, and took our car back to the rental car facility, and then walked back over to our meeting hotel. Here there was now a hospitality room, where we waited for our bus. Just before we were called for our bus, we were overlooking the mangroves and saw a bird called the Rainbow Bee-eater - one of the most colorful birds we have seen so far in Australia.

The rest of the day was a bit of a whirlwind - bus to the port, very easy check-in on the ship, and then the unpacking is and settling in, combined with orientation for tomorrow's excursion. We are in an early group, and so decided to have our dinner at the sushi bar up in "the Club", and then get to bed early. Being the sister ship to the one we took to Australia, we already knew where everything was on board.

Quick explanation of some of the photos - the drag bingo sign was outside a bar - it does appear legitimate. The pie shop sign was near the airport, and really did do drive thru pies - a new one to us. The big tree is a baobab - there are lots planted around town.

We are in the first group to go out tomorrow on our Zodiac excursion, so will get a good night's sleep. One of the things they have chosen to do on the ship is change immediately to the time in Darwin, where we will be on the 11th. By moving our clocks forward 1-1/2 hours (yes, it's one of those crazy time zones) we will be able to shift sunrise and sunset later, and have sunrise at a more humane 7:45, and the sunset around 7, rather than 5:30. Tomorrow should be an interesting day.

[worksinprogress1]

Henry was woken from his nocturnal sleep schedule by the ringing of the phone. The call was from a familiar number that Henry had not received a call from in years: that of his brother, George. Henry ignored it and shuffled back to bed. The call didn't surprise him considering the way he'd acted at a family get-together just a few days ago, an event he certainly didn't want to think about. It also didn't surprise him that he'd stopped calling him for a couple years before this. He'd isolated himself and avoided contact after Charlie's death, unwilling or unable to handle anything but the machines he understood so well. Even going to the get-together had been abnormal for him, and as it turned out, a mistake.

There was a call the next day. And on the third, there was a message left on the answering machine.

“Hey, Henry. This is George. Connor and I are coming over today. We need to talk to you, and this is the last day before we go home. We wanted to give you more notice, but you kept ignoring our calls. We’ll be there at 1:30."

Henry sighed and dragged himself out of bed. His digital clock, the only light in the room, read 10:30 in bright red numbers. Unfortunately, that meant that his chances of getting his house in order were slim to none.

After a shower, Henry’s first order of business was to clear away all the creepy robot and machinery parts from the floor and into the closets, leaving oily smears on the carpet and hardwood where they had been. He removed the sheets of wood from the windows and picked up the pizza boxes and beer bottles on the floor, moving fairly quickly on it considering that he would normally be asleep this time of day and for hours after.

After an over an hour's work, Henry collected a six-pack of beer from the fridge and collapsed onto his couch. The scent of oil, metal, alcohol and stale food was still in the air. Dust, grit, and smears of grease still covered the floors and counters, more than he could clean in- Henry checked the clock- he still had an hour. He didn’t have it in him to get up.

An hour later, there was a knock on the door. He got up and opened the door for his twin brothers. George was carrying a gift basket with Henry’s favourite candy from childhood in it.

“Come on in,” Henry said. He tried not the pay attention to George’s obvious disdain for the house’s state, or how Connor was watching the floor to make sure he didn’t step in any particularly oily areas as they walked to the living room. Once they got there, the brothers sat down on the couch, and George gestured for Henry to do the same. Awkwardly, Henry obeyed.

George sighed heavily. “We’re really worried about you, Henry. I know that Charlie dying was really hard on you, but it's been five years. We never see you anymore, and neither does your ex-wife or Sammy. You know, up until last year, Sammy was asking every time he saw me whether you’d be up to visiting soon. And this year he stopped. He gave up.”

Henry looked away and slugged down more beer.

“Will you listen?!” Connor snapped. “We're trying to help you!”

Henry ignored him. Henry did know about Sammy. Sammy’s ignoring of him is what had driven him to drink so heavily at the Christmas gathering in the first place. He still wondered whether Sammy simply hadn’t recognized him in his degraded state, or if he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. He didn't want to think about it.

“We think it would be best for you move in with me in Colorado," Connor said firmly. “Staying here can’t possibly be doing you any good. Are you still working?"

"Yes. Same job as before, just from home now."

"We’ll get you set up to work doing something other than holing up at home making robots for the restaurant your daughter died right outside, get you into therapy, and whatever else you need. I’ll even keep booze out of the house if need be. But we don't want to see you like this.”

"No."

"Why?" George asked.

Henry thought about how to respond. It was hard to explain, but he was used to his life. Machines, numbing alcohol, and William were his comfort zone, and he felt so delicate that anything else might break him.

George touched his hand. “You know, it would be amazing to see you happy again. You get along so well with kids. I want my kids to be able to meet the person I knew.”

“I’ll do it,” Henry said quickly. His voice lacked conviction, but it seemed like his brothers were willing to take it.

“Great. I’ll get you a plane ticket. And I want you to send your two weeks’ notice now, right in front of me, alright? I don’t want these to be empty words.”

---

When William first received Henry's resignation letter, he was rather unnerved. What could have caused Henry to want this? He visited Henry’s house the next day. He knew that Henry would most likely be asleep at 11 AM, so it would probably give him a chance to look around for any clues of what had caused Henry’s sudden change of heart. If Henry was awake, he would say that he was here to pick up the Foxy bot that William had sent him to repair. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d come in uninvited for such reasons, and though the deadline he’d given Henry for it was tomorrow, Henry would very easily believe he’d mixed up the days. He’d both done so before and believed William lying about it before.

William used Henry’s spare key, which he’d known for years now was located under his mat, and opened the door.

The first thing that William noticed was that Henry’s house was remarkably tidy compared to usual. That was strange- it happened every now and then in the first couple years of Henry’s grief, but this had to be the first time it had happened in years.

With everything clear of its usual trash, it was very easy for William to find the one-way plane ticket to Colorado on the table. Henry’s brothers were from Colorado. So that was it. Henry’s brothers had given him an intervention. That meant that Henry might very well slip from his grasp, but William wasn't going to give him up that easily. He swiped the plane ticket and left. Henry could easily call the airport and ask for another one to be printed, but that relied on Henry noticing and remembering to, and having the conviction to go through a little extra inconvenience. It wasn't much, but thankfully it was only the beginning of what William could do to prevent this.

That evening, William gave Henry a call.

“Hey, buddy,” he started off. “I got your email. I was hoping I could come over and we could talk about it. Have a little send-off for our partnership.”

“I'd like that,” Henry said. “I want you to know that it’s nothing against you. I just need a change in scenery. That’s all.”

“Of course. You did good work for us. I’d be willing to be your reference if you want. Anyhow, does now work to come over?”

“Sure does.”

“I’ll be right there.”

William showed up with a six pack of beer and two bottles of Henry's favourite whisky in a bag by his side. Henry looked a little more perked up than usual when he greeted William at the door.

“Hey,” William said to Henry, flashing a sad smile.

“Hey,” Henry returned.

The two made their way into Henry’s living room.

“So. Ten years of building robots together. And they were good ones," Henry said, sitting down in a plush chair.

"And four years before that in college," William said, sitting nearby him on the couch. "Wow, we've really only been apart for a few years in our entire adulthood."

"Yeah."

"So... what changed?"

"Connor wants me to move in with him in Colorado and help me to get my life together. It's... well, I guess I can't live like this forever."

William nodded in understanding. “I thought you had a system that worked here. But if you're unhappy with how things are, I get it. I just hope you’ll be okay out there. I mean, you’ve barely left the house in years. This is a big jump. I guess I should be proud of you.”

“Thanks. I’m a little proud of me.”

“You should be. I mean, you’re going to have to get a job where you deal with people again. There won’t be any easing into it- you’ll have to deal with people and do well at it or you’ll get fired. And there won't be any more leeway if you mess the days up.”

Henry visibly tensed a little. William handed him a beer, which Henry opened and sipped heavily from. Then, William continued. “I remember how you were in college. I sure hope you haven’t become that person again over these years stuck in your house.”

Henry put the beer can back on the table and gripped it nervously. “I suppose I really do owe you for letting me work from home.”

“It was my pleasure as your friend. It’s a shame that you won’t be making any more of these animatronics that Charlie loved so much. Do you feel like you were doing it in her memory?"

"Yes," Henry admitted. William knew he would. He'd said as much before while drunk.

The two men spent the night drinking and reminiscing. William had already planted the seeds he could, so for the most part, it was a relaxed chat for him. Towards the end of their conversation, William assigned Henry to a heavier-than-usual workload for his last two weeks, and he insisted on leaving the rest of the whisky behind. Both would lower Henry's chances of ordering that new plane ticket.

A few days later, William was at home watching football when he received a call from a worried and intoxicated Henry Emily asking if he could still call William after he moved and if he would rehire him if need be.

"I don't know, Henry. I mean, I can't hold a position open for you while you get your mental health sorted out. And you could call, but I won't have the context of your problems like I do now. You'd be better off talking to your brothers. You've been keeping good touch with them, right? Connor is an understanding man."

The next question Henry asked was even juicier: whether Charlie would forgive him if he stopped making animatronics.

"I'm sure that if Charlie is still around, she loves every animatronic we make," William said, smirking as he laid back on the couch and thought of the puppet's reaction every time a new animatronic became possessed. "Why? Are you having second thoughts about leaving?"

There was a long pause. And then Henry said that he'd think about it.

"Alright, well, keep me posted. I can always cancel your resignation," William said before hanging up.

It was another week before William received a call from Henry asking to cancel his two weeks' notice. And a week after that, William found himself at Henry's doorstep, holding an animatronic head in need of repairs.

Henry opened the door for him. He seemed more glum than usual.

"Henry. Something wrong, buddy?"

"Sort of. I never told my brothers that I changed my mind. I don't know how I'm going to speak to them again, to be honest."

"Oh. Well, let's talk about it," William said, moving inside. Trash was beginning to pile in Henry's house again, including the now-empty bottles of whisky that William had gifted him.

They did talk about it. And most likely, it would be the last time Henry would ever mention his brothers. He'd go right back to where he'd been a month ago: a good worker, numbed with alcohol and with no need to think about his pains, let alone bother William with them. Really, he was doing Henry a favour. It's not like he had it in him to get his life together. William was giving him the best life he could have.