#this has been your pre-scheduled lunch time rant

[demonologist-in-denim]

Okay, let’s get into this, because I have put off talking about Crowley’s cut monologue from 12x23 for long enough. If you haven’t already, you can read it here, or in this great gifset.

I absolutely see why this was cut. And I’m only acknowledging it here to talk about why I not only think it doesn’t add anything to Crowley’s story or our understanding of him, but how it actually detracts from it. After that, I intend to ignore it and let it fade away into the ether of the spn fandom. That being said, deleted scenes and cut scripts live in a sort of canonical limbo – you can choose for yourself whether to accept them as canon, consider them glimpses from some alternative universe, or do away with them entirely. I’m choosing the latter in this instance.

(This was meant to be a post, but it turned into an essay.)

Whomever wrote this was either unfamiliar with Crowley as a character, or was intentionally twisting the character in such a way as to fit into the convenient narrative that removed him from the show. Blame it on Chuck in text, blame it on the showrunners outside of text, whatever your preference – this doesn’t read like Crowley.

There are very few parts of this monologue that felt in character, that read like something Crowley would say. Not just in the tone or the choice of words, but the openness of it. And that’s coming from someone who writes reformed and/or human Crowley, with his admittance to remorse and shame and love. In this cut script, he is uncharacteristically vulnerable, sharing self-reflections he would never have shared aloud at this point in his character development. His dialogue lacks the layers of meaning or deflection that Crowley would normally employ, that he employed everywhere else in the show, even when being emotionally vulnerable.

That’s not to say that Crowley didn’t think or feel these things – I will argue to the end of my days (in spn fandom) that after the cure, Crowley hated himself. He hated that he was alone and unloved. Some part of that was due to being a demon and the horrible, evil, messy things he’d done, and some of it he believed was due to his inherent lack of worth. And I think this monologue was written in part to have Crowley make that final confession out loud. Final because, if that’s the case and he’s willing to admit it – to his former enemies and now the only people he really has in his life – his story can only take one of two directions: redemption or death. Embrace the desire for change and move forward as a reformed demon and full Winchester ally, or dramatically (and unnecessarily) sacrifice himself.

And there is a way to write that, but with Crowley properly in character and with the emotional complexity we know him to possess, not this blatant declaration. Maybe the line would have worked depending on how Mark Sheppard played it, and it only falls so flat because it’s just a script – I’m willing to allow for that. But this moment, facing down the boys after letting Lucifer loose, in front of an audience of Mary Winchester that he doesn’t know well and isn’t comfortable with, it doesn’t feel like a moment for Crowley to be this open, this vulnerable, about something so personal and so monumental.

I’ve no doubt that Crowley expected the Winchesters would one day kill him, “for good this time.” He was a demon working alongside a pair of hunters; there was always going to be that risk. Crowley was intelligent, one of the smartest characters on the show. He had to know that was how things would play out – either that, or he would die on their behalf, or because of their actions, even if he had ended up leaving Hell and joining Team Free Will. That was what happened to people around the Winchesters. Crowley warned Kevin of that himself. “They use people up, and leave them to die bloody.” Crowley knew. And as he internalized more and more of his blood-born conscience, Crowley had to believe on some level that he deserved it, especially if he hated himself and what he’d done.

But once again, if Crowley was going to say something like that, that’s not how he’d say it. It would be as a dismissive aside, or a knife in Dean’s gut in a moment of intense emotion between the two of them, or as a rebuke that the Winchesters badly deserved. Or better yet, as something remarked between himself and Cas, who Crowley likely suspected would outlast him but also ultimately die in service of the Winchester cause. Words like those have power. And it’s unlike Crowley to lay them down in supplication like this. It doesn’t even feel like a heart-felt confession, like his monologue in 8x23. It reads like someone wrote what was meant to be under Crowley’s words, the intention behind his dialogue, the much-exalted subtext, but failed to add all the layers on top of it, to put it in actual character.

I’m just going to bundle the whole beginning of the monologue together and toss it out entirely. Firstly because I’ve argued more than once that Crowley is an unreliable narrator when it comes to his human life. What we know of it from Rowena comes with an agenda, and what we know of it from Gavin comes from a man who had a difficult relationship with his father. It’s about as reliable as young Dean telling stories to Sammy about their parents’ time together. And there’s canonical errors in this monologue to back that up – we know Crowley wasn’t buried in a pauper’s grave, because we saw it 6x04. The “dying in a puddle of his own sick” is a great detail in terms of storytelling, but it’s almost directly repeated from Rowena, who said it as a belittling comment to a young Fergus. It’s too forced. And we know at least Gavin came to the funeral, because he tells us so in a deleted scene in 12x13 (remember what I said about getting to pick and choose when it comes to cut scripts and deleted scenes?).

But more importantly – and this is the part that really grates – Crowley’s iteration of his human life reinforces the narrative of absolute morality in the spn universe. It supports the argument that if a character becomes a demon, it must be because they were a terrible person. There is no room for human flaws, for characters to have made mistakes – and that doesn’t just hinder characters in terms of backstory, but in character development and emotional growth moving forward. It’s a stance spn takes more than once, and especially with non-human characters, though never in regards to the Winchesters. The Winchesters can become soulless or demons, but they were “always good” before that, so they are deserving of redemption. If Crowley or other non-humans were “always bad,” that absolves the Winchesters from seeing them as people deserving of help, or of their ability to change, or even to be seen as beings deserving of any level of respect or agency. And it absolves the showrunners from writing a character capable of development, of being able to grow beyond their previous flaws.

That’s not to say that Fergus MacLeod wasn’t some or all of those things. But if he was a complex character – if he was a person, as all stories should aim to present their characters – then he was all of that and more, just as the Winchesters are their virtues and their faults all wrapped up in an individual person. And if Crowley had brought this up some other time, in reference to his human life, none of this discussion would be necessary. It would be easy to say: he’s an unreliable narrator, and this provides us with insight into how Crowley feels about himself, and it would be interesting and valuable. But here, it’s used in justification for Crowley’s status as irredeemable – which is not true – and as part of justification for what happens next.

Crowley’s death was written by the showrunners as an excuse to remove him from the show – attribute that to budget costs for the show, or running out of story ideas for Crowley, or creative laziness, whatever you want. And within spn, it can be attributed to Chuck not wanting another character like Cas muddling up his Winchester Brothersᵀᴹ grand narrative. I’ve written before both in posts and in fic about how Crowley’s character-central instinct for self-preservation crumbles into depression after losing Hell and the seemingly-irreversible depletion of his and Dean’s friendship in 12x23. And that this ushers in a desire to End in such a way that achieves revenge against Lucifer (not a significant motivation, in my opinion, you’ve got to outlive your enemies to win against them), earns him the appreciation of the Winchesters, saves the world (proving his capacity for good), and brings about an end to his waiting. Glory through death, redemption in death – tropes that are hard to associate with Crowley unless you buy into his character’s devolvement in the latter half of season 12, but which the writers do their best to smooth into place and the fandom was forced to choke down.

And I won’t argue that Crowley didn’t wanted an end to his waiting – I’d argue the opposite in fact. This blatant preference for suicide, however, is antithesis to everything Crowley. What Crowley wanted in that End wasn’t an end of himself, but an end to existing in a state of perpetual limbo. Be accepted by the good guys, embrace his more human aspects, or return to the full dark depravity of demonkind. An end to the emotional rollercoaster, to continuous and destructive self-doubt, to striving to be both the king Hell needed and the ally the Winchesters refused to admit they benefited from having. That’s entirely different than wanting to end himself. As much as Crowley hated himself, he would never have considered death to be a preferable option – not unless some outside force, be it Chuck or the spn showrunners, decided otherwise for him.

Even if that had been the case, and I am wrong about Crowley’s characterization and his motivations, I still do not think he would have been as open about that motivation as is written in this cut script. It is just not like him. It is too vulnerable, too self-pitying. Crowley was always concerned about the others around him, and especially the Winchesters, thinking less of him. He never would have said something like this to them, not as this is written. Nor would Crowley have gone to the Winchesters with the intention of them killing him. He might have known it was a possibility, once he confessed his actions, (and from his perspective, there was the chance the Winchesters didn’t know of his involvement in Lucifer’s escape anyway), but it would never have been his intention. It’s not unknown for Crowley to encourage abuse from those he’s wronged, and to revel in the attention and emotions of it (here I’m thinking specifically of Kevin beating him in 9x02), maybe considering the punishment just and due. And Crowley at this point likely suspected he would eventually meet his end in some way involving the Winchesters. But death by their hands in this moment would have involved none of the justifying benefits of death by his own hand only a few scenes later – glory, revenge, redemption, a sense of closure.

Compare this cut monologue and its potential death – at the hands of the Winchesters after confessing his role in Lucifer’s escape – to this cut line of dialogue from later in 12x23. “Tell Dean he was right – you bloody fools have rubbed off on me.” This is Crowley. This is emotional complexity, admittance to a change of heart, self-awareness, and a brave act of equal defiance and sacrifice, with his usual smug, snarky dismissal. This isn’t suicide brought on by depression, by an uncharacteristic vulnerability. It is resolved, determined, if reluctant. This is Crowley choosing the greater good and the boys, even if it means sacrificing himself.

For me, this small addition smooths over much of the unevenness in the showrunner’s attempts to justify Crowley’s death. He has lost Hell, he believes he’s had an irreversible falling out with Dean – all of which could be overcome, grown beyond. But then a rift opens, and Lucifer is an immediate danger, and it requires a life to save the day. Crowley knows it can’t be either of the boys – that tends to have world-ending effects – and it can’t be Mary Winchesters or Castiel, because of “Winchester man-pain.” So that leaves Crowley. And having exhausted all immediate alternatives, Crowley does what internalized Winchester logic and conscience tells him is right. It would still require a moment of hesitation, a moment we see him combatting his deeply imbedded trait of self-preservation. But at least that would have been in character and show definitive character growth on Crowley’s part.

So yes, I completely agree with the decision to cut this monologue in 12x23. It doesn’t tell us anything about Crowley that we don���t already know, and is uncharacteristic of him, and provides out-of-character justification for his actions that wasn’t needed. You don’t have to agree with me, obviously. And I’ll end this rather long rant of an essay by saying what I always say: that Crowley deserved better. He deserved better than the mangling of his character’s motivations in the latter half of season 12, and he deserved better than this monologue. I’m glad it was cut from the final script.

[zbeez-outlet]

Hello. I would like to request a Levi Ackerman x femreader in the canon universe about how Levi reacts to her fainting from over-exhaustion. Loads of angst and fluff would be appreciated. Hope that's okay. Thanks :)

Let Me Care for You

Levi x FemReader

Canon Universe

Pre-relationship

Concept: See request above!

Summary: Levi doesn't wear worry well. Stress is different, he can navigate stress as easily as his ODM gear, but worry settles heavy in his chest. It simmers under his skin and puts him on edge. He can't control worry like he can stress. But he's worried about you, has been since you got your promotion to Squad Leader. The transition is challenging, he knows that, and the extra work is killer on the sleep schedule. Today is different though, today something is wrong. You've stumbled three times down the hall since breakfast and it's barely noon.

Warnings: Angst, sleep deprivation, fainting, minor head injury, small amounts of blood (nothing excessive), mentions of nightmares (please let me know if I missed anything)

A/N: This is the first request I've received! I hope you like this piece, if you're interested in requesting, please check out my page for more details! I'm available to write for multiple fandoms or for anyone else in AOT. Thanks for reading! And for those who are curious, Left Behind Pt. 4 is on its way!

"There a reason you're staring, Shorty?" Hange pokes his cheek childishly, tongue sticking out and nose all scrunched up, but he doesn't turn to indulge them despite the annoyed twitch of his brow. For the record, he's not staring, not matter what Hange's inane teasing rumors about him. "Think you'll set her on fire with just your glare?"

"What are you blabbering about now, Four Eyes?"

But then Hange's right in front of him blocking his line of sight to you, an action that has a snarl pulling at his lip. They sing your name while swaying back and forth on their heels. "You've been watching her since she walked in the mess hall. What's that all about?" They're almost nose-to-nose with him now, he can feel their breath thick with the stench of stew from lunch waft across his cheeks. He almost gags. "Oh, oh, oh I know! I know! I know! You've got a crush!"

Levi chokes on air, eyes gaping at the fucking insane scientist he has the misfortune of calling a friend. "What?! No, Shitty Glasses, don't go spreading shit like that around!" He swallows whatever blush is threatening the curve of his cheeks and goes for a generous gulp of his tea.

Hange pouts, sliding off the table where they'd perched during the interrogation, and wilts back in their chair. "Then what's the problem? She's just in line for a cup of coffee."

But that is the problem. Coffee.

You don't drink coffee, or at least you didn't. One of the first things he learned about you as a person and not as a soldier was your passion for tea, nearly as vital to your character as his own addiction to the stuff. The two of you swap new blends whenever you get the chance.

Lately, you've been drinking coffee. The new habit almost has him as on edge as the darkening weights under your eyes or the slight shake in your hands that had never been there before. And he knows exactly when it started.

Two weeks ago you were promoted to Squad Leader and were assigned a battalion of team leaders and cadets to train and prepare for the next expedition still a month away. He remembers the meeting when Erwin made the announcement. He remembers your salute when you heard the news, powerful and confident and honored by the opportunity. He remembers feeling proud even though the accomplishment was all yours. Your hard work. Your passion. Your talent. You. He remembers sharing a pot of your favorite tea blend in his office that night, listening to you excitedly rant about your new position with a small hidden smile on his lips only a fraction of the size of your proud grin.

He hasn't seen you smile since. Levi pretends he doesn't miss it, doesn't miss you, but the teapot in his quarters has gone unused since that night.

Now you're drinking coffee, and something is wrong. He just doesn't know what. Yet.

A hand waves in front of his face making him sigh aggravatedly. He looks to Hange and raises a delicately arched brow as if to say, "What the fuck do you want?"

"You gonna answer my question?" They prod, gaze swiveling between him and you in such an obvious manner that it sets his teeth on edge. "What's with the staring, Levi?"

"Nothing," he growls and ignores any squawking comments from Hange when his eyes return to you. "Back off Shitty Glasses." Levi doesn't need people thinking he watches you...even if he does, but only because there's something bothering you and he can't figure out what it is or why you haven't come to him about it! And, yeah, maybe a part of him is hurt that you haven't come to him for help because he'd like to think you're both at a place in your relat...companionship that you can talk about things, anything really. Which, okay, he's not the best at doing that, but he knows if he got better about opening up, you'd be there to listen.

Levi just wants you to trust him with whatever is going on. Maybe part of him is scared that this is a sign you don't trust him.

None of that really matters though when he sees you stumble, barely catching your mug before it could slip from your trembling fingers, as you make your way out of the mess hall. That's the third time he's seen you trip on nothing since breakfast.

You didn't eat then either, just filled that damn mug with coffee and disappeared back into your new office.

Grumbling under his breath, Levi stands from his seat and marches toward the kitchen with half a dozen of Hange's questions bouncing off his back. The cook is more understanding than Levi thought he'd be when he asks for your lunch rations for the day, even being so kind as to include a small piece of bread and a clean glass of water because he noticed your absence at breakfast as well. Levi thanks the man so sincerely he almost cringes at himself, but the grateful smile he gets in return settles any discomfort. He makes a mental note to keep an eye on how the cadets treat the cook and to talk to Erwin about the budget, see if there's any room for a raise in their expenses.

The roll he keeps wrapped in a napkin hanging securely between his fingers, your bowl of stew balanced on his palm, and the glass of water cold in his other hand. He hasn't been in your office yet, but he's willing to admit to himself - and no one else - there were times he lingered by the door over the last two weeks.

He's not a stalker, he's fucking worried. And maybe he does miss you, just a little.

He knocks with his boot and frowns when he doesn't hear anything from beyond the door. No call of who's there, no shuffling or mumbling, no footsteps. He knocks again, a bit louder this time, and his curiosity turns into frustrated concern when all he hears is silence again. That same weight settles in his chest, the one that tells him something is very wrong.

Turning the knob with his elbow is actually rather easy, and so is nudging the door open with his hip. What isn't easy is the sight that greets him in your office.

That damn mug of coffee has been tipped over, a bitter brown puddle soaking into the mess of paperwork overtaking your uncharacteristically disorganized desk. Something stutters unpleasantly in his chest when he spots your feet poking out from behind the rich wood, splayed across the floor. Swiftly, Levi places the food and water on a clean edge of the table, skidding around to the other side of your office only to find your prone body limp on the ground.

Levi kneels beside you with an airy call of your name, turning your body onto your back so he can assess what happened and not focus on the racing of his heart or the tremble in his jaw. First he checks your pulse even though he can clearly see your chest moving up and down with each breath. Your heartbeat is slightly erratic, but nothing drastic enough to cause alarm. He's sure it's a combination of anxiety and the exhaustion heavily straining your body that's speeding up your pulse, not any kind of life-threatening injury. Still, Levi can feel a sting of fear jostling the air in his lungs.

"You idiot," he mumbles, allowing his fingers to trace the dark bruises under your eyes when he notices a scrape on your forehead. His teeth clench, a familiar anger he so rarely directs at you bubbling under his skin. "Shitty little brat, you should have asked for help..." Levi trails off with a frustrated huff.

Tapping your cheek, he holds his breath as he attempts to stir you from unconsciousness. Your nose scrunches cutely and a groan rumbles in your throat. He watches as your beautiful eyes blink open, a film of confusion and dizziness shining in your gaze. It takes a moment for your eyes to focus on him, but he's patient, more patient than you have any right for him to be when all he's been is patient for two fucking weeks while you adjust and learn and, apparently, self destruct.

"Levi?" He ignores the way his heart swells at the way you say his name. "W-what happened?" You're looking around now, sitting up with the pressure of his hands supporting your head and between your shoulder blades.

"You were stupid and overworked yourself so much that getting a disgusting cup of coffee was enough for your body to shut down," Levi deadpans, a stern lilt to his voice.

Just from that, you look thoroughly chastised, shoulders curved inward and shame bleeding into the bend of your spine. You won't meet his eye and it has Levi sighing at the way your avoidance upsets him. The two of you sit there for what seems like hours to him in the silence, so when you move to stand, he jolts to brace your arms and support your back. "Careful, you've got a sizable bump on your head from the fall," he adds just in case you're dizzy, helping you into the designated desk chair in every office.

He eyes it distastefully, almost certain he has a very detailed imprint of that very chair in the skin of his back. You deserve better than nightly backaches and a sore neck, but Levi holds his tongue and steadies you in the seat anyway. He frowns at the way you wilt in the chair, elbows resting on the desktop to keep you upright - only just out of reach of the pool of coffee - and fingers digging into your tired eyes.

Without a word, he lets himself into your adjacent bedroom, noting the perfectly made and untouched bed, and presses on into the bathroom. There's a first aid kit that's stocked in every bathroom in the building, so he swipes it from under the vanity and wets a spare rag in the sink. He wants to at least take care of the gash on your forehead before he starts the lecture he can already feel forming on his tongue.

You haven't moved when he steps back into the office, still hiding behind your hands and uncomfortably hunched over. Levi sighs for what must be the hundredth time - and certainly won't be the last - and leans on the desk next to you. Softly he grips your wrists and pulls your hands from your face. Your eyes are shining, waterline on the verge of overflowing, and you still refuse to look at him.

He decides he won't be the one to speak first, focusing instead on the cut above your grimaced brow.

You flinch when he dabs at the blood that dripped down your temple. Levi pauses for a moment, wondering if you'll say anything, but when you stay silent, he goes back to the task at hand with a lighter touch. The blood comes away easy enough, staining the rag an unseemly red. Blood never really bothered him before, it's been a part of his life as long as he can remember, but something about the sight of your blood has his stomach churning.

With the cut sufficiently cleaned, Levi digs through the first aid kit for some antiseptic cream and a bandage. He gently swipes the cream over the cut, hoping you don't notice when his fingers linger just a half a second too long on your skin. The bandage goes on next and then everything just feels...quiet and still and stifling.

"I'm sorry." Your voice is clipped, aching passed your unused vocal chords in a way that makes him thirsty. Levi grips the glass of water by its rim and holds it in front of your face. Relief crashes into him when you accept the water easily, delicate fingers grasping around the glass.

While you drink, Levi turns to collect the food he brought as a way to distract him from the curve of your gulping throat. He places the bowl of stew and the napkin-wrapped roll in front of you with a mumbled, "You skipped breakfast, eat."

He doesn't stay to watch if you follow his order, instead going to collect a towel to soak up the coffee - the stench of which has already coated the walls of your office. Nose scrunching, he tries to focus on the fragrance of you just beneath the bitter air, soft with tea, breezy with your floral perfume, and something so intoxicatingly you that he can almost block out the coffee. Levi spends a few minutes soaking up the putrid drink from the fine wood of your desk before he notices you're just staring at the cooling bowl of stew, having made no move to eat it.

There are tears streaming down your face.

Again, Levi rounds the desk to be next to you. He turns your chair to face him and takes a knee in front of you. You sniffle, bright exhausted eyes finally meeting his own, and his chest stings at the fear he finds there. The frustration. The shame. The sadness. It takes everything in him not to cradle you close, to run his fingers through your hair and chase your worries away with gentle words. He's not good at those things, he knows he'd screw it up, he'd make it worse. Instead, he tries to push understanding to the forefront of his expression, hoping you'll take that first step, you'll talk to him. You'll choose to trust him.

Your mouth opens and closes a few times before you finally speak. "I - I don't think I can do this, Levi."

"Do what?" he asks even though he's pretty sure he knows the answer.

"I can't be responsible for them...I - I can't be a leader." Your lips quivers, and your breath catches on the verge of a sob.

"Bullshit."

"W-what?" Levi would crack a smile at the incredulous look on your face, eyes all wide and lips gaping, if he wasn't so worried about the tremor in your arms or the cold sweat threatening your brow.

"You heard me. Saying you can't do the job is utter bullshit."

"Levi - "

"No, I'm not just going to sit here and listen to you spew shitty excuses for why you think you can't do this job." He almost cringes at the harsh way the words cut between his teeth, scared he may have just screwed up entirely. Maybe this is the reason you didn't come to him because you knew, and clearly rightfully so, that he'd just be a jerk about the whole situation. Levi takes a deep breath, hoping to soften his words with the extra oxygen, and meets your shimmering eyes again. "You've worked harder to get where you are than anyone else here. You spend everyday trying to improve yourself, learning as much from the green cadets as you do from your veteran superiors." He bravely places his hand over your fidgeting fingers and continues.

"Your soldiers trust you. Your comrades trust you. Erwin trusts you, so much so that he fast tracked you to Squad Leader without a second thought." Your name falls from his lips like he cherishes the shape of it curving his syllables. He fights the urge to caress your cheek by squeezing your hands. "It's not that you can't do the job. You're more than qualified, you're more than capable."

"Then what's wrong with me?" You ask desperately, the words shaking in your throat.

"Nothing is wrong with you," he says sternly, making sure to hold your wallowing gaze with his own more frigid one. "You're afraid, and that's okay."

A shaky breath quakes in your chest. "It is?"

"You think none of us higher-ups are scared?" He quirks an eyebrow when you just stare at him with your jaw hanging a little dumbly. "It's our choices out there that brings back as many soldiers as we can, of course we're scared - except maybe Four Eyes, but they lack the sanity for fear, so I wouldn't recommend them as a role model." You crack half a smile and he basks in the warmth it brings him.

"Look," he continues passed the success of any one of your smiles, "the only thing holding you back right now isn't your fear, it's how you're coping with it."

"What do you mean?"

He scoffs, eyes flicking between the bandage on your forehead, the coffee mess on your desk, and the piles of paperwork. "You just fainted in your office, you're really asking me that?"

A blush crawls up your neck and tints the tips of your ears. You bite your lip, which he finds extremely distracting in this very serious moment between the two of you. "Point taken, I guess." You idly start tracing shapes on his knuckles, further distracting him, and the tingly feeling gives him goosebumps he's relieved you can't see beneath his uniform. "What should I be doing, oh knowledgeable Captain Levi?"

The fact that you're teasing him at all has a smirk threatening his lips. He stands, abruptly jerking your chair back toward the desk. "Start by eating, there's even a roll for you. The cook noticed you weren't at breakfast, he wanted to give you a little extra." Levi nudges the bowl closer to you, only turning back to the task of soaking up the coffee after he sees you take your first bite.

The only sounds in the office for the next several minutes are the clinking of your spoon in the metal bowl, Levi's furious scrubbing at the dark stains in the wood, and the occasionally satisfying tearing sound when you rip your roll into pieces to dip in the stew. It's comfortable like the nights you stay up late, a pot of calming tea shared between you, and existing in a language that only the two of you are fluent in.

Yeah, okay, he's missed you a lot.

Levi glances up when he hears your frustrated groan. The bowl is empty and so is the water glass, the only sign of the roll being a few wayward crumbs on the napkin. You're staring at your drenched paperwork, and already he can see the stress tensing your shoulders and reigniting that crippling doubt in your eyes.

He wants to cover your eyes and steer you away from what's troubling you, but again, he waits for you to speak first.

"It's going to take hours to redo all of that work," you grumble, flexing your fingers before reaching for the fountain pen at your side. Your fingers hesitate just above its sleek brass surface. Levi needs only a second to convince himself this is a good idea and takes your hovering hand into his own gentle grasp.

"What you need to do," he starts, using two fingers to direct your face to his by your chin, "is sleep. I'm thinking you haven't done much of that since the promotion."

Fear flashes in your eyes again, and he knows that fear. Maybe better than anyone. "I see them...when I sleep, I see all of them. Dead or dying, blaming me. It hasn't even happened yet, but I know it will. In a month, it's going to happen, even if it's just one." You grip his hand back tightly, feeding of the strength in his hold. He'd give it all to you if he could. "How do I stop seeing them?"

But he doesn't have a good response this time because, really, the only honest answer is, "You don't." You nod, like you expected that - which you probably did, after all nightmares were more common in the corps than pleasant dreams - and sigh with a weight he never wanted to see on your shoulders.

"Then how do you sleep?"

He chews the question for a moment, rolling it between his teeth with his tongue, and comes to the most satisfactory answer he can come up with. "You remember their trust, how much they rely on you. To protect them, to lead them, you have to take care of yourself. Eating is a part of that. Sleep is a part of that. It won't always be restful or last long, and rarely will it ever be kind, but your body needs sleep to function."

"Okay, but..." you trail off as if unsure of what you're about to say. You only continue when he nods, ready to accept whatever you want to ask of him. "How do you sleep?"

Except that.

Levi grimaces, pulling away from you slightly and almost immediately wishes he hadn't when he sees the new furrow to your brow. He decides on a non-answer. "In my desk chair most nights, after enough hours of paperwork that my mind is numbed into sleep for a few hours." He shrugs like it's no big deal and ignores the spark of concern that lightens your eyes. "I find tea helps me relax into it more easily." He doesn't say that the nights you share a new blend and talk into the early morning with him are the nights he feels most rested.

He eyes your mug distastefully, that bitter coffee stench still lingering in his nose. "Coffee doesn't help."

An actual laugh bubbles between your lips and he feels an unwarranted amount of pride bloom in his chest. "It helps with the 'avoiding sleep' part."

"That part doesn't seem to be working in your favor." Levi contemplates you for a moment and realizes he really doesn't want you to sleep in the desk chair. He abruptly tugs you to your feet despite any feeble protests, barely remembers to grab your empty water glass, and steers you into your bedroom. It takes barely a fraction of his strength to lower you onto the unused bed, and he idly wonders if you have been sleeping at your desk or if you've been diligently making the bed every morning you managed to sleep.

"No I - Levi, I can't." You try to rise, only to huff when all he has to do to keep you seated is press his hands onto your shoulders. "The paperwork, I have to - "

"Here's what's going to happen," Levi grumbles, making sure to hold your eyes with his own. "You're going to sleep. I'm going to get you some more water, I want you to at least take off your boots if you don't feel like changing. You need a few hours of rest before you'll be able to focus on anything."

"But - "

"No, this is me helping you take care of yourself." He places a heavy palm on your head, fingers ruffling your hair. "Let me do this."

You hesitate a moment longer before giving in, nodding and smiling at him so gratefully Levi feels the warmth of it from his toes to the crown of his head. You squeeze his hand on your shoulder and whisper with sleepy eyes, "Thank you, Levi."

He goes to fill the glass in the sink in your bathroom before you can see the blush he feels heating his ears.

When he comes back, glass full and cheeks blush free, your boots are haphazardly crumpled at the foot of the bed and you're already passed out. All you did was lay back before falling into a deep sleep, legs hanging off the edge of the mattress and head nowhere near your pillow. Chuckling dryly under his breath so as not to wake you, Levi places the glass on your nightstand and carefully maneuvers you further up the bed so you're actually on it entirely, tucking you under the quilt he hopes to one day hear the story behind - because it certainly didn't come with the room like his own starched sheets - and cradles your head in the cushion of the pillow. He allows himself one simple indulgence and trails a callused finger down the soft curve of your cheekbone.

Levi can already imagine the dark circles under your eyes lightening and fading when a purely content smile pulls at your lips and you sigh in your sleep.

The door clicks shut softly behind him and he makes his way back to your desk. He sits in the familiarly stiff chair and picks up your brass fountain pen.

Levi decides he might as well help you get a head start on that paperwork.

Tag List:

@leviackermanmyhero245

[jade-marie]

I didn't watch episode 4 but I saw gifs of Beth yelling at Jane and it got me thinking, what's your view on the Boland kids not being parented?

Lmao you love getting me in trouble🤣

Sorry. It got long but I could rant about this for weeks.

Pre canon and S1

Obviously, we don’t see anything pre canon when it comes to the Boland kids, but you can put together an idea of what their situation was like from the first few episodes. Beth was a SAHM - she made them fancy packed lunches for school, had them enrolled in extra curricular activities, dropped them off/picked them up from school, put them to bed, got them ready etc. She was the main caregiver and Dean was at work. When he came home, he got to be the fun dad.

It seems like they had a decent amount of structure, as far as schedules go, but they’ve never been given any responsibility and didn’t appear to be well disciplined. We had Kenny telling Beth she sucked at math in s1 - something I certainly wouldn’t have gotten away with. Anyway, they had a decent amount of structure and stability, they were used to things being a certain way and that was all disrupted when Dean was kicked out of the house. Then suddenly, Dean was back, but he was sharing a bedroom with Kenny. It doesn’t seem like any of this was really explained to the kids properly or that they were helped through the process, which can have some knock-on effects. 

Throughout Season 2

First episode of S2, Dean was shot. The kids were told that he was mugged and were, understandably, shaken up by the whole thing. Once again, nobody truly comforted or helped them through this process and we started to see the fallout of that. Kenny essentially developed an eating disorder and started bingeing, Jane “ran away from home”. But again, nothing is done about it. Beth says they need to be more present, no phones at dinner, they look into a child therapist, but we don’t ever hear about the kids actually getting therapy even though they desperately need it.

Throughout the season, the structure that they still had in S1 rapidly disappears. It goes from Beth being the main caregiver to her handing the reigns over to Dean in 2.05 and he doesn’t do a good job of it. The house becomes a mess, the kids run wild. This would be a perfect opportunity to start giving the older children some chores, helping to re-introduce structure, but it doesn’t happen. From the kids perspectives, they would notice their mother becoming more and more absent from their lives, missing dance recitals, coming home late, missing dinner, missing bedtime and so Dean is becoming the consistent parent (important for later).

Dean decides to weaponise the children, taking them away from Beth and going to stay with his mother for a while, before going back home. Beth and Dean tell the kids that they’re going to be getting a divorce, obviously that doesn’t happen, again creating quite an unstable environment for them. Effectively, they have a roof over their heads and they’re being fed/clothed, but nobody is actually parenting them. 

Throughout Season 3

At the beginning of S3, with the dealership gone and Beth no longer working for Rio, they have significantly less money. It’s not clear how much of a knock-on effect this had on their extra curricular activities because Jane still has her piano lessons and Kenny has hockey. Beth’s taking them to the park a lot, it’s also not clear whether this is simply because she’s stalking Rhea and Marcus or genuinely because the park is a free activity for them. Regardless, they’ve been going to the park enough that it’s no longer fun. The kids really don’t seem to have any structure anymore and, once again, it doesn’t seem like they’ve been receiving any emotional support during what would be a challenging time for any child. 

Dean has gone back to work, Beth is now also working, so Judith steps in to help take care of the kids. She takes things a little bit far, which pisses off Beth, so Judith is quickly removed from the equation. Again - instability. Then we have the fallout between Rhea and Beth, which means Jane can no longer play with her best friend Marcus for (at least from her perspective) absolutely no reason. Again – instability. Fast forward a few weeks, the entire house is emptied so the kids have to go and stay with Judith for an unspecified amount of time. Again – instability. We can play the blame game to decide who is the cause of this instability, but it’s pretty irrelevant. The fact is, the kids lives are being shaken up and nobody is helping them through it.

Beth buys new furniture, the kids come home, it all seems great, and then Dean gets arrested. So now their dad ,who has been the more consistent parent in their lives for the last year, is out of the picture. Once again, nobody is really offering them support during this time. We see Jane asking for her dad, we see the kids talking about how Dean lets them eat by the TV, because they’re missing things which have been consistent for them, and then we finally get to Janes little stand-off with Beth over the remote control.

That is quite clearly the result of her emotional needs going unmet for God knows how long, so she’s acting like a brat. Instead of taking care of and supporting her child, Beth lashes out. I find the editing choice to mute the yelling and playing music over the scene annoying, because it lightens it quite a bit. It’s pretty obvious that Beth was wildly over reacting to the situation, because she was lashing out at a child over things that had nothing to do with Jane. She was stressed about Dean, she was stressed about Fitzpatrick‘s upcoming murder and taking that out on a kid. Yeah, she felt bad and gave her a hug after, but you’ve still got 3/4 kids (is Kenny coming back??) who’ve been emotionally neglected for at least a year. 

Beth’s kids compared to Annie/Ben

We don’t really see a lot of Ben‘s relationship with Greg, it doesn’t seem like he’s a particularly bad parent in any way, Nancy is probably a bit neurotic, but nothing major. Annie, is pretty emotionally stunted and immature, she puts way too much responsibility on Ben, so it’s the complete opposite of Beth. Ben is effectively the grown-up in their relationship, he leaves reminders for his mother to make sure shit gets dealt with and any structure Ben has is structure he’s created for himself.

But at the same time, he trusts his mother and when something is bothering him he actually talks to her. We saw him come out to Annie before Greg and Nancy, he told Annie when he was being bullied. As he gets older, you can see him growing tired of parenting his mother, but I think she’s learning from her mistakes by recognising the way they’ve impacted her son.  I think it’s also important to remember that Ben has been largely unaffected by Annies criminal activities, this is predominantly because she has a shitload of baggage to deal with. 

Beth’s kids compared to Ruby and her kids

As a whole, Ruby‘s kids have been relatively unaffected by her criminal activities. It doesn’t look like they ever had a rigourous schedule of extracurricular activities, but they’ve always had a stable home life. Not financially well off, but happy. We’ve always seen them be respectful, they have boundaries with their parents, they don’t particularly misbehave etc. They just appear to be good kids with good parents. They witnessed Stan being arrested and Sara especially took that quite hard, but she was supported through it. It’s also quite clear that she’s had a good emotional support system throughout her illness and kidney transplant. When she found out that Ruby was up to something shady in S3 and their relationship became strained as a result, she spoke to her mother in a way which was disrespectful, eventually that behaviour was checked. Because Ruby and Stan parent their children.

Beth’s kids compared to Rio/Marcus

From the very first time we were introduced to Marcus, we’ve seen that he’s very polite, very well-balanced and has a good relationship with his dad. We’ve seen Rio patiently instil important lessons in his son, such as cleaning up his messes, being patient and waiting his turn - things which Beth’s kids still don’t understand.

For the most part, Marcus seems to be pretty well shielded from Rio’s criminal activities, which is why I think Marcus was so heavily affected by his dads absence in S3. But, unlike the Boland children, he was emotionally supported through the process by his mother. He went to her for comfort and he received it. When Rio isn’t around, Rhea appears to pick up the slack and ensure Marcus still has some stability.

I think they’ve deliberately contrasted Beth’s kids with the other children on the show. Her children are the only ones who seem to be truly feeling the effects of choices she’s made during the course of the series. She claims to be doing all of this for her kids, but is completely ignorant to the fact that her choices are hurting them. This isn’t me bashing her character or saying she’s a shitty mom because I don’t like her, this is just stating what’s happening on the screen and right now, whether or not it’s deliberate, she’s being a shitty parent. Dean has always been a shitty parent. So now those kids don’t have anyone😕

[dramallamadingdang]

I was going to do this with "in-line" replies, but it just got unwieldy and doing the mentions in a multi-reply reply is a PITA. So we do it this way. A really long (sorry!) post of replies for @taylors-simblr, @niamh-sims, @hugelunatic, @mustluvcatz-reloaded, @simaddicted-sue, @dunne-ias, @pensblr, @mdpthatsme, and @yuichen about kids and stuff...

taylors-simblr replied to your post “OMG, I'M GLAD THAT'S OVER!”

I am very happy that Christmas is over, we went to my mums. I had decided it would be lovely, and it was to an extent, but we were there for 5 days and there were too many people and kids and by day 3, I was peopled out and just wanted to get home. Daughter had her 3rd birthday on Friday too and was a horrible mess of over excitement ��, but that’s all over and things are getting back to normal. Except for the piles of toys people bought us, that I have no where to put...

I always feel bad for kids with Xmas-time birthdays. Their special day gets lost in the madness. That’s part of the reason why I always made more fuss over birthdays than Xmas, since my son’s birthday is December 17. Mini-Taylor is young enough not to be resentful, but I hope she'll be OK as she gets older. :)

But yeah, for me, the main problem is that everyone was at my house and stayed here because lodging in this area is scarce and the affordable options have to be booked months or sometimes even years in advance. My son is in the Army and he’s only just home after a long deployment, and the timing of his going home was always in question. When they knew (more or less) for sure when they’d be coming, all of the lodging in the area had long been booked. (This is why we have frequent (adult) houseguests, which I'm perfectly fine with.) The original plan was for my son and his family to stay with his wife's family, which is literally next door because my son married the literal girl next door. That would have been better. Theirs is an enormous family -- 14 kids, 3 bio ones and the rest fosters that were taken in and adopted, most of them still teens and younger -- so they have a huge house and they're well used to little-kid chaos and sort of revel in it. But right before people were scheduled to arrive, their house came down with some severe plumbing problems, and stuffing it with 30+ people was just a no-go. So, they ended up here, at more or less the last minute.

The kids are 4, just past 2, and 7 months old, all in the age range that I can't tolerate. I'm OK with tiny, non-mobile babies, but after they're mobile, I do not want until they're about 8-to-10 or so. So, since they were here, if I wanted peace, I was the one who had to leave my own house. Which isn't terrible or anything in the grand scheme of things, but it is annoying. Plus, the 7-month-old had an ear infection, and flying cross-country didn't help it. They almost cancelled coming out because of it, but the 4-year-old had been promised learning how to snowboard and would have been totally crushed. So then daughter-in-law was going to stay back with 7-month-old, but that seemed unfair to DIL to be deprived of her family, and I and the other grandparents hadn't even seen the younger two kids in person. So, they drugged 7-month-old up to his eyeballs, and did the thing. So 7-month-old was just crabby and awful and had trouble nursing the whole time, which only added to the crabby awfulness, which in turn made 2-year-old awful. (Four-year-old was actually pretty OK the whole time, did learn to snowboard, and sort of fell in love with my husband. Which, you know, I understand. *laugh* They both cried when she left. :) ) I understood that the baby didn’t feel well and the 2-year-old was upset by it, of course, but that doesn't make it any less annoying when they're both screaming more or less 24/7. Gave me terrible flashbacks to my daughter's preemie-baby/toddlerhood. *sigh*

But yeah, I survived to rant about it. :) 

niamh-sims replied to your post “OMG, I'M GLAD THAT'S OVER!”

I am a woman who doesn't want my own children (much to the chagrin of many people I speak with), and I struggle with other people's kids. In saying that though, I absolutely adore my 5 year old nephew, he is a dude, and my 9 year old step-son is an old soul and extremely mature with a wicked sense of humour. They're all I need!

I hate the presents aspect of it! 

See, 9-year-olds I'm (usually) fine with. My window of intolerance is from about 6 months through the little-kid years. It seems like when a kid hits 8 or 10 or so that a switch flips in them and their behavior changes from little-kid to big-kid. Sometimes that happens earlier, often with girls; I've known 5-or-6-year-old girls (and a few boys, too) that I've been just fine with. I’ll probably be fine with my son’s eldest when she’s 5 or 6 because she was pretty OK even at 4 under trying circumstances. But mostly it seems to happen in the 8-to-10 window. It's the start of "tweenhood," I guess. I'm fine with "big kids" even if their chronological age is a little younger than normal to be a "big kid." I'm also perfectly fine with teens, even when they're really surly. I'll take a super-surly 14-year-old over a "cute," bouncy, loud 2-year-old, even if well-behaved, any day. Which is weird, I guess, but there it is. Someone has to deal with the teens. :)

And yeah, the presents thing. In my own, nuclear family, starting when it was just me and my little kids, we don't do presents other than small hand-made gifts if someone feels like making them. We just did stockings on the morning of Xmas Eve. They were filled with little things, small toys and candy and as they got older some more practical things, like makeup/nail polish or small bits of sports equipment and stuff. When they hit tweenhood, we'd each fill each other's stockings, not just me filling theirs. We developed a tradition of exchanging goofy toothbrushes that way, of all things. :) It wasn't that we couldn't afford to do big gifts; I just didn't want to instill that kind of mindset in them. Our tradition from the time my youngest was about 8 was to spend Xmas Day at the local shelter/kitchen for homeless/transient people, which did both Xmas breakfast and dinner. We'd be there, kids included, from pre-dawn until after midnight, prepping, cooking, serving, eating with the people the kitchen served, and cleaning up. It was actually really fun (the kids even looked forward to it) and really fulfilling and, to me, that's what Xmas ought to be about. Not the consumer frenzy. I have no interest in feeding and perpetuating that frenzy and while it caused some problems as the kids grew up when they found that their peers got showered with extravagant gifts, they also realized that they’d get gift-showered for their birthdays, and they've both said that they prefer the more low-key way we did Xmas as a family as well as the more service-oriented mindset, which they both have continued. Aside from this Xmas just past, which we did more "traditionally," but still without extravagant gifts.

hugelunatic replied to your post “OMG, I'M GLAD THAT'S OVER!”

I love my granddaughter to pieces! But I can only stand being around her without her parents around. LoL

And hello my fellow Grinch! *loves*

They are definitely better without their parents! :) We took 4-year-old to the slopes on the day after Xmas without her parents, and it was a ton of fun. Spent the whole morning teaching her how to snowboard, had lunch in town, boarded bunny slopes/courses with her, would have done dinner out, too, but she was crashing by that point, etc., and it was all great. None of us, including the 4-year-old, wanted to go home to the screaming baby and toddler. *laugh* 

I will be fine when the kids are older. I'm fine with my other set of three grandkids -- the kids of my firstborn, whom I don't call "my son" because he was adopted at birth, so I don't feel that I am his parent for all that he's my bio-son -- the youngest of whom is 8 and the eldest almost 15 (and a Simmer, along with his next-younger sibling :) ). They live in Botswana, but they come over to the states fairly often and will be here this coming fall for a month and will stay with us, and I'm perfectly fine with that. The problem is, my son and his wife want a large family -- She comes from one, they're conservative Christians, etc. -- so by the time they're done having/adopting them, it'll be a long time -- probably longer than I'll live -- that they'll all be older. So then I'm put in the position of wanting to be around some of them but not all of them, which is not fair to them, but...yeah. In some ways, it's good that they live far away. I'm good with visiting with all of them via Skype. :) But they might not always be far. When my son retires from the Army after he puts in his 20 years, they plan to move back out here. But I might not be alive by then or at least I might no longer be able to live at altitude, so there's that. :)

And...GRINCHES UNITE! *high five*

mustluvcatz-reloaded replied to your post “OMG, I'M GLAD THAT'S OVER!”

And there I was.. Happy as hell to see my grands and sad to see them leave. But I rarely see them so.. *back to being a Scroogy Grinch*

I think most people are happy to see their grands and sad to see them leave. I'm an outlier, I know. I've never actually liked little kids, despite raising two of my own. In truth, my husband and I were pressured into it, he more so than me, but I was trying to be a "good, obedient Christian wife." It's not surprising that I struggled and that it all contributed to the end of that marriage. I did not enjoy my kids when they were little. I gave up my career because I felt that I had to (Husband didn’t want me to, actually, but I couldn’t imagine living the life we lived dragging a kid around, which was another nail in the marriage’s coffin), and there’s a part of me that will always regret that. And I resented that my husband didn’t have to give up his career, that of course it fell to me to do so. I mean, I loved my kids, of course, but that's a different thing from wanting to be around them all the time and always enjoying their company. It was a huge struggle for me, and I'm glad it’s over. Teen/adult kids are great, though, and I'm thankful they both turned out well. Because, yeah, I’m a mom who doesn’t like kids, and worse I was a single mom who didn’t like kids, which could’ve been utterly disastrous, but I muddled through, living for the day when they’d be grown-ups.

And more for the Grinch Club, woo! :) (Also, I am only just now reading about what you're going through. I am so, so sorry. :( )

simaddicted-sue replied to your post “OMG, I'M GLAD THAT'S OVER!”

I feel your pain and raise you 14 grandkids I love them dearly especially when they are not here lol

*sigh* Should I live long enough, I'll have at least 14 grandkids. My firstborn and his wife are done. They only wanted two, especially because there were problems with the second pregnancy. The third was an IUD fail, and then both got surgically sterilized in the aftermath, just to be safe. But my son and his wife....They want 8, minimum. They're planning on 4 bio kids (and will gladly accept more if they happen), and then they want to adopt, just as her family did. And then there's my daughter and her partner. They will marry in a few years and they're both anti-kid right now...but they're also only in their early 20s and when their mutual female biological clocks kick in, who knows what might happen? They might be like me and remain uninterested in kids for life or they might not. In any case, my health is not the best and will only get worse as time goes on, so I will have that as an excuse not to have littles around much, at least. There are silver linings to chronic conditions! :)

dunne-ias replied to your post “OMG, I'M GLAD THAT'S OVER!”

meh, stay healthy and you'll live to have a relationship you might even enjoy when they're older. Not everyone has to like kids, even it they're related to you. I had my nephews visiting for a few days, which meant 4 days of almost non-stop Zelda-playing, but they're in just the right age for a visit, as in mature enough to handle their basic needs on their own.

Yeah, older kids can be a lot of fun, and I have no -- or at least a lot fewer -- problems with them. My firstborn's two eldest kids play Sims (The eldest plays TS4, but the 13-year-old prefers TS3. :) ), so sometimes we'll be on Skype together, all playing our games and yakking at each other about it, for hours, and we have a lot of fun that way. The TS3-playing kid and I are playing Dragon Valley concurrently, cycling through the premade households and doing different things with them, which is fun. And my son's four-year-old sat on my lap while I played TS2 a bit to chill out this past week, and she was fascinated and “helped” me a little, so now I plan to "groom" her as best I can going forward. ;) Video games are a good way to bond with kids. :) And when the firstborn's family is here, I'm sure we'll be doing plenty of that, as a group, since all of us love video games of various types. The Mortal Kombat tournament will be vicious and I will undoubtedly lose, but I will have fun while I am repeatedly, violently killed. :) 

We'll just have to see what happens with my son and his planned never-ending parade of children who aren't allowed a lot of screen time and "educational" video games are only allowed in very limited doses. *sigh* I have to come up with a sales pitch that makes TS2 “educational.” Well, it did make my daughter interested in the Middle Ages, since she played a medieval game, and she is now working on a graduate degree in Medieval Studies and has a talent for writing well-researched historical fiction as well as interesting narrative non-fiction, so....

pensblr replied to your post “OMG, I'M GLAD THAT'S OVER!”

My husband and I really chuckle quite a bit (as we continue to happily enjoy our child-free lives) when we are judged for not doing the whole kid thing by people who always seem stressed-out trying to juggle everything. I'm like 'I don't judge you for wanting children. So don't judge me for not wanting them.'  Recently had a male colleague tell me that God put men and women here to have children, and if we didn't "What's the whole purpose of life then?"

Yeah, child-free is a great way to live! Especially if you're double income/no kids, I'd imagine. IF you can deal with the constant judgment and the pressure from people who want grandkids or nieces/nephews and the accusations of being selfish and pressures from one's religion, if that's a factor, and all that crap, of course. :\ 

Since my husband is almost 20 years younger than me, has no children, and I'm past menopause, I get a lot of side-eyes not just for our age difference (though with my gray hair dyed and a general lack of wrinkles because I’ve never been able to expose myself to much sunlight, I look (and act) younger than I am, so at least that helps with that) but also for our inability to procreate. I get a lot of "But what about when he wants kids? It's not fair to him to be married to someone who can't have kids!" (Which is a lovely argument to lob at anyone! I mean, I guess involuntarily infertile young people shouldn't marry fertile people then? *eyeroll* ) But he doesn't want kids. His own father died suddenly at 39 of a massive coronary, and when it happened his mom checked out for a bit, leaving him to deal with his grief and mostly raise his three younger siblings -- the youngest of whom was only 2 -- until she got her shit together, which took her years to do because she got addicted to the tranquilizers the dumbass doctors prescribed and had to do rehab, etc.. He did his time parenting starting when he was 14 until he was about 22. He has zero interest in having his own kids and can’t imagine that changing, though he loves being around other people's kids that he can give back to their parents. He absolutely loves being a step-grandparent of 6 at the age of 37, in addition to being an uncle to his siblings' kids. :) Even if he does eventually want his own kids, it'll probably be after I'm gone and then he'll be free to find someone to procreate with, if he and that partner want to spawn. So, I tell those people to just fuck right off.

And ugh, that "God put men and women on Earth to be fruitful and multiply and if you don't do it you're just selfish -- and having “sinful” sex -- and going against God's will and there's no point to your life" thing. That's why I had kids. That's NOT the right reason to have kids, but I was so brainwashed at the time that I didn't think that way. Or at all, really, at least not about that subject. Ugh. Ugh ugh UGH! I wish I'd responded with a polite-but-mighty "fuck off," too...but I DO like my kids and am thankful that they exist, so...yeah. 

Rant! Sorry! :)

mdpthatsme replied to your post “OMG, I'M GLAD THAT'S OVER!”

28 years old, don't like children, don't want to have children because I know this about myself and I'm ok with it. People tell me it's a phase and I'll want children soon enough. I'm like, uh, no. Family and friends get aggravated with me when I don't hold their babies or don't want to watch their children. Like has the point not come across yet?

Yeah, everyone tells under-30 women who don't want kids that they'll change their mind. So many women want to be sterilized but doctors won't do it because "they might change their mind." Some have the nerve to get them to get permission from their husband, if they're married. My daughter suffers from terrible endometriosis is in almost constant pain from it. Over the years she's gone through all the treatments short of hysterectomy and nothing has worked, at least not permanently. She badly wants that hysterectomy but to date has found no doctor -- at least here in the States; I’m thinking she might have better luck in Europe -- who will do one because she's only 22 and unmarried. They think she'll marry a man (which she won't do; she's pretty firmly declared herself a femme lesbian) and then magically want kids. They even have the balls to tell her that if she goes ahead and births a kid, that might cure her condition because GOD FORBID they just do the relatively easy procedure that will likely cure her. Instead, they'd rather saddle her with a kid or at best make her go through a pregnancy and then have the kid adopted. At which point the endo might just come back again. 

I really can't believe how misogynistic gynecologists can be, even the female ones. Maybe their brains are warped by the women who desperately want kids but can't have them. I have enormous sympathy for those women, truly I do, but their plight should not prevent women who don't want kids from taking more drastic steps to not have them and certainly shouldn't force women to suffer through medical conditions that would be cured or at least made better by being completely sterile.

And yeah, the family constantly pushing babies at you and wanting you to babysit, just because you happen to have a pair of boobs. Nope. I'm thankful that my gay brother and his husband are not interested in kids and wouldn’t have cared if I didn’t have any, and that my mother is indifferent to the concept of grandchildren, but I DO have a lot of kid-crazy cousins that I did my best to avoid like the plague but when I couldn't were constantly trying to "convert" me by shoving their "adorable" babies in my face. They don't do it anymore with our advanced age and all, but when they were actively popping them out before I had any, as an older teen/young adult saying I had no interest in kids, it was like they were on a freakin' crusade, complete with forced conversion. *eye roll* Even though at that point I HAD birthed a kid not at all by choice and had given him up for adoption. Nope, not good enough. I had to have one that I wanted, I guess. And when I did have kids, they were all smug and, “See, we knew you’d change your mind!” Even though I really hadn’t. It's sick. Not every woman loves babies/kids.

MOAR RANT! More sorry. :)

yuichen

replied to your post

“OMG, I'M GLAD THAT'S OVER!”

36, no kids. I like my brother's but probably because they're older and I missed most of their early lives. My cousins' kids, however? Fuck no. I avoid the whole massive family gathering because they weren't taught to have respect for people's things, or how to not act like little psychos. I'm talking jumping on the furniture and running around screaming while their parents do absolutely nothing. In a small house. Fuck. That.

Oh yeah. In my experience, the most adamant baby-pushers were the ones who had the worst-behaved kids. They "loved" them so much that they never established/enforced boundaries and thought that any kind of discipline would damage them somehow. *eye roll* One of my cousins never made her kids sit down to eat. They just wandered around the table grabbing food (with their hands!) from serving dishes or, worse, from other people's plates. They let them do that in restaurants, even. It was disgusting. Or, the most adamant baby-pushers were the ones who were also complaining about how stressful their life/marriage was and who could be heard pining for the pre-kid years of their relationships. And I'd just give them a meaningful look. But if you point out that you just don't want to complicate your relationship/life by adding spawn to it, well then you're just “selfish.” 

Yup. I was at some point, at least in that regard. Being a more fundamentalist-type Christian in my 20s/30s warped my brain on the subject, but down in my heart-of-hearts...I would've been perfectly happy being that kind of "selfish." No, I wouldn’t give up my kids now, but if I’d never had them, I would’ve been perfectly OK, too.

[angelic-guardienne]

It’s 12:30 AM and I’m super tired and still have homework to do and have to get up for school in less than six hours but my brain is whirring entirely too fast. 

A few days ago I made a post about the bros being relatable, and in the tags I said Prompto specifically. 

And me? I’m so angry. I’m so angry. I know I should be forgiving, but I’m so tired of it. I’m so tired.

Read more bc I’m just -- too much. 

TL;DR: Basically I just rant for entirely too long about shitty parenting things, then connect my own experiences to Prompto’s at the veeeery end, followed by “You can’t choose your blood, but you can choose your family” and how both Prompto and I did that.

Reason I said Prompto specifically? Terrible parents. Parents that only care distantly, if at all. Parents that don’t really try.

I suppose it’s a little rude for me to say such things...

I’m just angry. See, for context, my whole life has been between two households cause my parents pretty much hate each other (and whenever I say “hate” they say that they don’t hate each other but that’s beside the point). I spend the week with my mom because she lives closer to my school, and then on weekends I go over to my dad’s.

My mom is golden, more than so. Maybe it’s because we spend so much time together, we’re just that close, she’s pretty much my best friend, she loves me enough for two people, five people. (she’s been a single mom the whole time she’s been raising kids cause my older brother’s father didn’t stick around either, which just makes my mom that much more amazing to me because she raised two kids pretty much by herself)

My dad?

With me, I bottle up things way too much so there’s always that one thing, that super small thing that always breaks the bottle, the last straw that breaks the camel’s back, that’s how I handle like 95% of everything I deal with (unhealthy, yeah, but that’s another thing for another time)

And the bottle bursting always happens whenever I’m in a good point, as in I have a bit of motivation and my grades are good and I’m just generally not as depressed and that bone-deep, soul-deep exhaustion I feel isn’t as harrowing. It’s like the plot of life takes a sudden left turn straight off of a cliff.

The little thing this time was my flute.

Y’all know I play the flute. Y’all know I’m in marching band. 

About two-ish months ago, I took my flute in for repairs, ‘cause it was garbage and didn’t play any notes, and I wanted it for marching band season so I just. Took it in for repairs, that was July? More than two months. whatever, so I got a call saying I could pick it up this week. 

Went over to the shop...

Repairs came out to be $203. Like I said, garbage flute. Buuuut way back when I sent it off originally, my dad was prepared to lay down $200 so that it could be paid for -- as in, there was a pre-payment system so that if the repairs cost $200 or less, they’d already be paid for, but if it was over that amount they’d have to get customer approval before beginning transactions and whatnot.

(Of course it’d be $3 over the line... but anyways)

So I’m like, cool, I’ll just call my dad and he can pay for it and I can pick up the flute, it’ll be great, right? 

Nope. (and here, if this was a verbal story, I’d pop my “p” just because of how simply and quickly he turned me down and how infuriated I am about it)

The basic rundown of what he said was that no, I wasn’t going to get my flute until next week (this week, now) and that I wouldn’t have it by Saturday (a truly important date for me b/c it was my last marching band competition, I wanted to have a playable flute for that ((and I ended up having to use my expensive ass concert flute for that event, anyways))) and that I might not even get it next (this) week because I was low on his priority list.

I probably sound like a brat but -- his daughter? Fucking low on his priority list?

He gave me a hard time when I said I should be at least second on the list, and because I’m a little shit I just took it with a tight smile and an “okay, see you next weekend, love you too, bye.”

And like -- god, he’s been doing this shit for my entire life. I guess it just took until now for me to finally see it. To say the least he’s very poor at keeping his word with me.

(Once my mom said we could go to the movies together to see Spiderman: Homecoming. She promised me we would go. Come the day of, we were running on a bit of a tight schedule due to unforeseen circumstances, and even though I told her that it was alright and we didn’t have to go see the movie, she still took us to see it because she promised. She made time for a basically three hour outing (four, I think, we may have went out to eat) because she promised me that we would go see that movie.) 

((My dad’s never done anything like that. Once, when I was younger, he asked what I wanted, probably something for a birthday or Christmas or whatever, and I said I wanted to spend a day with him, just he and I, so we had one meal together at a restaurant and he took me back home. And me, being myself, I just ate that time up because I didn’t have any other times that I could say were ours, just ours. It’s... kinda sad.))

Every single time he doesn’t keep his word I get all broken up and just completely break down, full out sobs and all that jazz, because? Why? It’s the same thing that keeps happening. 

I’ve been making excuses for him for years, years, my entire life. I’ve been forgiving him over and over.

Because he’s not all bad. He’s really not. (And I don’t mean it sarcastically, at least I don’t think I do, cause I’m not too sure anymore) He buys me the things I want on the appropriate dates, as in holidays and birthdays. He bought me a PS4 with the help of my brother, and he bought me FFXV (also with the help of my brother) and the like. The things I wanted in that moment, if it’s close enough to a holiday, he’ll buy.

It’s the wants, but he never participates in the needs. Never, not once.

You know, when I was younger he would always say no whenever I asked to do something with my friends on the weekends? (There’s one particularly terrible experience that happened when I dared to have an outing with my friends on a Friday without letting him know) Did you know it got to the point where my friends just stopped asking if I wanted to hang out because they knew the answer would be no? 

Do you know how much that hurts?

One of my best friends (we’re estranged now) was having a birthday party for herself, and she was debating on asking me because she knew the answer would be no and she just figured that it would be better if I didn’t know about it in the first place. 

I’ll never forget the look that she gave me, the pure hesitance in her whole being, when she finally told me about the party.

You know I only hear about parties second-hand now? So much time was spent, “Did you go to so-and-so’s party?” 

“I didn’t even know so-and-so was having a party... how was it?”

“Ah... it was fun.”

“That’s good.”

It fucking hurts.

But does my dad care? No. (Sometimes I felt like he was doing that on purpose, just to make it easier on himself in the long run, not having to hassle, trying to cart me around to everyone’s birthday parties.)

But all that was a tangent. 

I don’t think my dad knows where I want to go to college, and I frankly don’t think he cares so long as he doesn’t have to pay anything.

(My reasons for believing that? I told him a while back ((he probably doesn’t remember)) that I was going to apply to both Queens University of Charlotte and Duke University. I want to go to Queens more badly ((which requires more work on my part because I’m basically in a one-income household, so scholarships)). Duke has this financial plan where, if your family makes less than a certain amount of money yearly, the school will cover a certain amount of the tuition. At the current income level and their need-based aid, my mom wouldn’t have to pay anything because my education would be completely covered by the school. Queens has no such plan as that... but it’s my preferred school, for reasons I won’t list at the moment. When I told him these things, he basically told me to “just get into Duke,” because then he won’t have to pay anything.)

Like I said, the big things, he just doesn’t want to be involved in.

He doesn’t help my mom make payments on my car, at all. He doesn’t help with school fees, at all. (I have a fun story about that one) 

When I got my permit to drive, we went driving exactly three times together (once when I first got it, and then twice when I was about to take my test for my license so he could help me parallel park). And after I got it, he called me “driving partner” ...and then hasn’t let me behind the wheel since.

My dad’s never taken off of work to support me. I’m always second place. (As a foil, my mom has taken off of work plenty of times to support me, and then worked extra to make up for it, all for me ((and bills, of course)))

I send my dad a schedule of the football games for this season, basically every time he can come see the marching band perform the show at half-time, and does he come? Not to one game. Not at all. 

I didn’t tell him about competition this weekend because (after much coercing) he’s going to the game next weekend, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get him to do something like this for two weekends in a row.

(And he told me he might not even stay to watch the show, depending on his work hours.)

When he picks me up to drive me to his house on Fridays, he won’t speak to me unless I speak first. He doesn’t ask me how my week was, nothing. The drive is just an hour of fucking silence (because he doesn’t turn the radio on with me in the car), if I don’t talk first.

He once had to pick up some food so he had a lunch for work that evening. So, with me in the car, he stopped by Chick-fil-a. (Note, I hadn’t eaten anything that day, but I hadn’t told him that.) He didn’t ask me if I wanted anything, didn’t ask me if I had eaten, didn’t even look at me. About twenty minutes down the road later, with me having to hold his food in my freaking lap because there was nowhere else to put it, he asks me if I was hungry. And when I say yes, he tells me about the leftovers in the fridge.

He makes me feel like such a nuisance whenever I even think about asking for something outside of the prompted times (again, holidays and birthdays).

I hate it so much. 

And then he feels like he can still think he plays some huge part in my life when he’ll barely speak to me when we do get to see each other. 

It’s like I, as a person, don’t even matter. It’s like all he wants is the final product of a “good daughter,” but not actually put in the work of being a father. (I once got a 96 or so on a test, and was very proud of it, but when I told him, his response was, “Why didn’t you get a 100?” I stopped telling him about my grades after that.)

If my school is doing a fundraiser and I ask him to buy something, no matter how politely I put it, he’ll tell me no. A random ass kid from the neighborhood can come to the door selling bottles of water and he’ll rush to get his wallet.

I just don’t get it. ...is it me?

But anyways... so yeah. My dad, as a parent, does the bare minimum.

To relate this all back to Final Fantasy XV as per this blog, I imagine Prompto’s parents were much the same as my dad.

They were never around. They never actually took care of him like parents should. He came home to an empty house most of the time.

And presumably they sent money, because Prompto ate fast food a lot but surely didn’t have a job, to at least show that they care a little bit.

They don’t want him to die.

So it’s the bare minimum... and Prompto, like me, just takes what he can because there’s so little, and makes excuses for the rest. 

And knowing Prompto (especially with how he reacted to having to kill Verstael), if his parents died in the fall of Insomnia, he would be torn to pieces by it. And he might be asked why, because they were never around in the first place, and Prompto can’t explain it well (neither can I, for that matter) but there’s just something about his parents dying that’s just... killing him, too, even if they weren’t the best parents... they were still his parents. 

When I was having a sobbing fit at the game immediately after the whole flute thing with my father (aka a basic thing of “am I just worthless to him?”), my friend said something to me that really stuck with me. 

“You can’t choose your blood, but you can choose your family.”

And it’s not her own quote (she said as much) but it’s still true.

My dad’s related to me, and I probably love him because of that, because... he’s my dad. How can I not, even when he does make me angry sometimes?

I made my family elsewhere. I have amazing friends that support me, and I have my mom, and I have my section in the marching band and I have you guys, here on Tumblr and everyone I’ve talked to in the past that’s still with me now... I have a family. They may not all be blood, but they’re my family.

Prompto did the same thing with Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio. His parents may have been his “blood,” but he made his own family with the people that really cared about him. He chose his family.

So yeah, I don’t really know how to end this -- this was a little raw with emotion and I know I’m most likely just screaming into the void, but it’s... it’s nice to get some of it out, you know? This probably isn’t cohesive at all.... sigh.

It’s 2:30 AM now. I need sleep. 

[keeptheotherone]

I’ve done an extremely foolish thing ...

and neglected to sign up for health insurance. I mean, I tried--on three separate occasions during open enrollment. The first time, I was home and remembered my notes about my username and password were in my locker at work. Rather than risk locking myself out of the system trying to guess, I decided to wait until I came back from vacation; after all, I’d have more than two weeks once I returned. The second time, I was at work but my notes were wrong--apparently I changed my password and didn’t write it down or something. But I couldn’t reset it either--the program asked me three questions that I know that I know that I know (nothing ambiguous like favorite movie or something that can change over time), but it kept saying it couldn’t verify my identity until I got locked out with that too and was told to call the help center. But I work night shift, it was like, two in the morning or something, and the call center isn’t open 24/7. No worries, it’s still, like, twelve days before open enrollment ends.

But the way my schedule was, working one or two night shifts at a time or only being off on weekends (when the call center is closed), it was not at all convenient to call between the hours of 8 am-10 pm. Anyone who’s worked twelve-hour shifts will understand why I didn’t want to “stay up late” to call at 8 am, and while I’m usually not busy my entire shift at work, I’m definitely busy until at least 11 or 12. I thought about maybe coming in a few minutes early and calling before I got report, but you never know how long you’re going to be on hold and my night is short enough without shaving half an hour off it.

Of course now, losing half an hour of sleep to gain health insurance for a year seems like a good trade-off. 

(more ranting below the cut)

Actually, it’s all my benefits--vision, dental, life insurance, FSA, everything. And unless someone in Human Resources takes pity on me in the morning--which I highly doubt, given we had thirty-two days of open enrollment--I’m screwed. I mean, I suppose I can at least get health coverage in the open market (or whatever it’s called--I know nothing about these things), but I do have pre-existing conditions and I am medically obese and I take daily prescriptions and--

*hyperventilating*

The ex-trauma nurse in me is terrified--you have no idea how many patients I took care of who were just going about their lives when they ended up in the ICU for weeks or even months because of a car accident, which can happen to anyone at any time. The type-A responsible adult in me is horrified--how could I have been so stupid? Why didn’t I make this a priority? The child in me is ashamed and not a little scared, ‘cause when my parents find out, Dad’s going to kill me. Then Mom will resurrect me so she can kill me again.

Which would eliminate the need for insurance, but you know ... not exactly how I want to go.

So ... someone take pity on this middle-class white girl who’s been blessed to have had affordable benefits literally every day of her life and has no idea how to navigate the system and tell me it is possible to get health insurance not from your employer. Right? I mean, it may be crap and cost a fortune, but it’s possible, yeah?

Oh, just realized I never told you how I missed the deadline. I slept through it. Because when you work nights, you sleep during the day. But since I had four days off this time, I thought it would be fine, I’d be turned around to a day schedule, no problem--I’d just call on Monday or Tuesday and take care of it. I wasn’t expecting I wouldn’t be able to turn around in four days. Yesterday--well, Monday--I slept until after 6 pm. I could have called that evening, but I thought the call center closed at 7 and didn’t check because I still have all day tomorrow, right? And I have to get out of the house because the maids are coming (oh, just realized how horribly entitled that sounds--it’s much more about me being lazy than entitled, I assure you--but anyway) and the tree guys are coming to cut down the dead tree at the corner of the patio and I have these prompts to finish writing, and I’ve already put the card with the website and phone number in my bag so I’ll have it and I’ll call while I’m out Tuesday afternoon but--

It took me eight hours to fall asleep. Yeah, you read that right--not that I slept for eight hours (which I eventually did), but it took FOREVER to fall asleep. I went to bed somewhere shortly after 5 am ... and was still awake when they knocked on my door at 11:37. So of course I grabbed my phone and purse and keys and drove to get some lunch, sitting in the parking lot wasting time on my phone waiting for them to be done so I could go home and go to bed.

It never occurred to me to call. I had a raging headache and a bad mood, I was sleep-deprived, dehydrated, and beyond frustrated ‘cause I’D HAD PLANS, PEOPLE!--and I forgot about it. Of course I would have called when I was still awake at 1 pm if I’d remembered open enrollment ended today. Or I would have set my alarm to wake up in a few hours and call before the call center closed. Or even, when I woke up at 9:30-something, if I had remembered and rushed to the phone, I might have made it. 

But noooo. It was 10:39 before I remembered, and I called anyway thinking maybe on the last day of enrollment they’d keep the lines open until enrollment ended at midnight, but no such luck. I tried every username and password I’ve ever used in every possible permutation, and nothing. It wouldn’t even recognize me when we got down to last name/DOB/social. I got locked out and how.

Nothing to do but wait for morning and beg.

[libraford]

The Glue Famine of 2017

On February 6th, 2017, I ranted colorfully about a constant depletion of glue from retail stores due to a growing trend of children making glue slime. (To the many of you asking, ‘what the fuck is glue slime,’ here is a video of an excitable man showing you how to make it. A mixture of glue and borax.) The rant has become absurdly popular and just as absurdly long. 

I’m sure that people are just as tired of seeing it clog up their dashboards as I am of listening to angry parents use me as a receptacle for their repressed rage. So I have decided to perform a condensed recap in order to deliver the updates on my diminishing tolerance for humans in a much more digestible size. 

If you have been following along thus far, you may skip to the bolding below. For the rest... this is an exercise in foreshadowing. 

It was December 18th when we noticed that the glue was all gone. “Perhaps they’re using it all for Christmas projects,” offered one worker. “Perhaps they have a lot of crafting to do,” said another. 

But then came the phone calls: “Do you have any glue?” “Do you have any styrofoam pellets?” “Do you have any borax?”

Borax. Borax- of course!

They’re making slime! Someone must have taught it in a science class, I thought. And now they want to show their friends! Kids are so cute. 

But then the phone calls became more frequent, urgent: “Glue?” “Clear glue?” “Borax?” “Shaving cream, contact lens solution, glue?” “Glue glue glue?” “Where is the glue?” “Why don’t you have any glue?” “WHY DOESN’T ANYONE HAVE ANY GLUE?!”

I did what I always do when unreasonable quantities of singular items have suddenly reached an apex of ridiculous popularity: I ask the Internet. An article lands in my lap (literally, because my only computer is a laptop) about how glue slime has become popular. Thousands of videos of people playing with slime. At least a hundred tutorials. A lot of people use it to stim. Cool! 

The other part is about how kids who make it are selling it. There is an entire market in the 7-17 demographics bracket based around the buy, sell, and trade of non-newtonian fluids. People are selling by the ounce. 

And just like any other thing that happens in this town, the parents have gone completely bonkers that their children jumped on the trend a day late and start blaming us. Because it is entirely our fault that this trend blindsided everyone. People begin showing us just how little they know about working in retail by asking why we ‘don’t just order more glue?’ They feel that it is an affront, a personal insult to them, that we are refusing to do this specifically because of their requests and we are clearly anarchists bent on dismantling this oppressive system. 

But I digress. Ah yes- the glue. 

Just as we were beginning to give up, thinking that the glue famine was going to mark the abrupt end of the trend, I am tasked with setting up an endcap specifically for glue slime. 

With all the bottles of glue we don’t have. 

The glue slime display posed empty and yearning for two weeks before suddenly, miraculously, we were given a huge shipment of glue. Huge! Almost enough to fill the endcap! Yes! Finally, we could give the people what they want!

This was on President’s Day Weekend. It was empty by Monday. 

We played this tug-of-war between supply and demand for weeks and weeks until we finally started getting enough in per week to keep the endcap full. We began carrying it by the gallons! Gallons of glue were selling out by the end of the week, filling again on Thursday, only to be voraciously depleted by Saturday morning. People were still angry. We had become used to the angry. Boisterous shouts had become the rhythmic breath of the store- rising each weekend and falling to inhale by Monday. 

But we had reached an equilibrium. I could see an end to the madness. 

And this brings us to April.

I was promoted to shipping operations. The glue slime endcap was likewise promoted to drive aisle. 

As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I take the monthly event calendar with me as reading material. They have me manage the classes and family events and it helps to prepare. 

I flip to the final page and what do I see?

And which poor soul is scheduled to lead this class? 

This is the moment where I realized that I was doomed to a sticky mess regardless of what position I held in this company. At least this time it wasn’t going to be a biological hazard.  Probably. 

But here’s the kicker: 

Because we don’t sell baking soda, borax, shaving cream, or contact lens solution, we technically can’t have the kids make the slime themselves. 

We have to make it and then bring it in for them to customize as they please. 

Our manager leaves in the middle of the day to get supplies to do a test run because she has never made glue slime before and wants to test the recipe that the Company gave us. She comes back to the break room as I am coming back from lunch. 

Over the headset, I hear: “Oh my god, it’s sticky!”

I find an amusing sort of symmetry in the fact that this is the same manager whose response to the aforementioned biological hazard was “oh my god, it’s chunky!”

This is that ‘foreshadowing’ thing I mentioned earlier. 

The days leading up to this event have filled everyone involved with it with dread and meticulous preparation. An entire gallon of slime has been made prior to the event and portioned into Easter eggs to ration each child’s daily allotment of slime. Little cups of glitter, beads, sequins, plastic animals, googly eyes, and (enigmatically) pom poms have been filled and set onto a table covered in paper for easy cleanup. 

We have been chanting to ourselves: “It’s only two hours, it’s only two hours, it’s only two hours.” This has become the heartbeat, a chant between raucous breaths of angry parents. 

We have played out every possible scenario that could happen and built a contingency plan around every problem. Our armor is on. We have backup. 

We are ready for battle. 

And now, submitted for your approval, I bring you to to today- April 8th. 

Which is, by some weird coincidence and because the fates like a good laugh, also my girlfriend’s birthday. 

I am told at the beginning of my shift that I need to change my shirt because I smell like sweat and my manager is concerned that the parents will find it offensive for me to smell like a human being who has been trying to work out the tail end of a fever for three weeks. 

Despite the fact that I’m going to be the one heading this thing, it is the managers who are the most nervous about its outcome. I’m the one preparing to drive myself deeper into my own madness. But sure- you can be the one worried about a vaguely salty scent in a room full of slime progeny. 

There is another class that I have to teach before I do the SLIME BAR and it’s just some silly little Easter craft object of little significance. I get to the end of the class and I start having dangerous thoughts. 

What if no one shows up?

This does not come from nowhere. In the sixty classes that I’ve been asked to teach since my title change, I have had people attend a grand total of ten. There are at least five easter egg hunts in the area, several pre-easter celebrations, and some kind of... soccer thing that are all happening at the same time as the SLIME BAR. 

Maybe no one will show up. 

As the word ‘up’ dies away in mental echoes, a woman pops her head into my classroom. 

“Is this the slime thing?”

I severely underestimated the siren call of the slime bar. 

“This is where we’re having it, but it doesn’t start until 1.”

She grumbles and disappears. 

If I do not eat lunch now, I will likely faint headfirst into a puddle of glitter. I leave for lunch. I return from lunch at 12:30 and there is already a line forming at the door of the classroom. 

“Is this the slime thing?” It’s not the same woman as before, but a near-identical woman with the exact same poultry-esque haircut. 

“It doesn’t start until one, ma’am.”

She folds her arms at her chest. “I can wait,” she says in a tone that indicates that no she certainly will not wait.

I quickly begin setting out the individually-portioned cups of glitter and other inclusions, the slime-filled eggs, the parchment paper. I hear a murmur outside, getting louder and louder and louder... more agitated. 

The door opens and a co-worker comes in. “There’s a line of like... twenty people out there,” she says. The room is built to house, at most, twelve.

“Please tell me you’re here to help.”

“I have been... encouraged to help.”

“Extra hours?”

“Extra hours.”

The people of the retail world all speak the same language. It is a  tired language.

It becomes one-o-clock and they all file in. All twenty four, standing around the table because they apparently didn’t understand me when I said ‘come in, have a seat.’ I call a framer to get us some extra chairs, which I suppose made that a little easier. 

Immediately, a little girl starts crying because she was under the impression that we were going to have them make the slime instead of customizing it and this has thrown a wrench in her entire day. She is not the only one who is upset over this development because apparently all anyone ever saw in the flier was ‘MAKE’ and ‘SLIME’ and all the other parts were decidedly unimportant details. Eight of the kids are upset, three are crying. Oh good- they’re learning disappointment early. 

 Each of the kids grabs an egg and they start smooshing whatever particulate they can find into brightly-colored semi-solids and the crying uplifts to joyous discovery as they learn all the ridiculous things they can do with slime. Despite all the various things we have provided for them, they only want to work with glitter. 

A tiny human poured the entire contents of a bowl of glitter into her hand and looked me square in the eye.

“What would happen,” she pondered. “If I...” She mimed the action of throwing glitter in the air.

“I would prefer it if you didn’t.”

And then she fucking does. Tiny fistfuls of sparkly particulate go shooting into the windless air, arching artfully over the table before scattering into everyone’s personal space. People are mad. 

She knew full well what would happen. I can see it in her shit-eating grin full of tiny, perfectly square teeth. 

I predicted this. I saw the future and the words ‘glitter’ and ‘sticky’ came up in my crystal ball. Mind you, I’m getting paid just above minimum wage here- so the crystal ball is more like... an overturned fishbowl. 

I look at my watch. It has been twelve minutes. 

As the first wave of families starts to take their oozing babies away to hopefully cleaner activities, a man comes in with his twelve-year-old daughter. 

“We’ll have you sign in,” I told him. “Name and phone number in case of an emergency.” The girl joins the rest of the glitter monsters while I speak with her dad. 

“This thing ends at 3:00, right?”

“We are holding the event until 3, but the activity itself takes about fifteen minutes.”

“I’ll come back in an hour just to be sure.”

“It’s only fifteen minutes.”

“Yeah, an hour.”

He turns around and leaves. 

The girl is done in less than fifteen minutes and begins asking where her dad is. “I’m sure he’s in the store.”

The girl does not seem impressed or convinced by this answer. At the half-hour mark, she’s getting tired of waiting for him and my co-worker escorts her out into the store to see if he’s anywhere. Nowhere to be found. 45 minutes, still missing. They call him.

Now, there is a sign prominently displayed in the room saying that we are happy to keep an eye on any children left in our care, but we kindly ask that any parents or guardians stay on the premises in case of emergency. 

Where is he?

At home with his feet up. He finally arrives at 2:15 to get her and if that went on any longer, I was going to call Child Protective Services because holy shit, you just dropped your kid off in the care of complete strangers juggling two dozen children at any given time. 

According to the girl, he always does this. Including one time where he made her wait three hours to pick her up from school because he was watching television. 

I don’t make it a habit of judging a person’s child-rearing techniques because I don’t intend on having them myself but HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS. 

WHY?

WHY?

But that’s done. It’s done. 

It is now 2:30 and the influx of children has slowed to a trickle. The initial urgency to do the slime glue thing has waned and there are now only a few people in the room. We can breathe. 

I do a final count on the roster. Fifty-two. 

Fifty-two. Four dozen excited slime children have come and gone in two hours. This is a lot of things to happen in a short amount of time. But it is almost over now. It’s almost done. 

A small child toddles up to me and hands me an egg.

“I made this for you because I love you.”

And that was the last of them. 

There are four messages on my phone, all from my girlfriend asking me when I was supposed to be out of work, that her parents were here and that they were all going to dinner. 

So I clean up as fast as I possibly can, wipe down everything, sweep, throw out the rejected slime experiments, put things away, scan the used items out of our inventory and I am out of the classroom as fast as I can be. 

But on my way back to the break room to clock out, the framer catches my attention and has a customer ask me: “How do you make glue slime?”

My cells are vibrating with urgency and anger. JUST. GOOGLE. IT. Just fucking google it. You have all the information in the world available to you in the form of an overheated black rectangle in the palm of your hand. 

“Glue. Water. Borax.” These are the ingredients chosen to create the perfect little mess. 

BYE.

Flying out the door now because my girlfriend is urgently asking where I am, she’s worried. They’re tired of waiting for me and want to move on.

I arrive at the pizza parlor thirty minutes late and covered in a fine layer of glitter. There is a googly eye stuck to my butt. 

Her parents know me well enough to know that this is not unusual. 

And the upsetting part is...

.... I know that this is not where the story ends. 

[fanfictionandstuff]

Secrets- Riverdale X Reader Chapter 2- A Touch of Evil ((Jughead Jones))

part 1: http://fanfictionandstuff.tumblr.com/post/157068434249/secrets-riverdale-x-reader-chapter-1-the-rivers 

 Fandom: riverdale 

 Warnings:none 

 Word count: somewhere over 3000

-

You woke up in a cold sweat on Monday morning. You knew something was wrong from the second you opened your eyes. You turned on your phone, using it as a light source in your pitch black room. 

Immediately you froze, your fingering hovering over the unlock button. You had a ridiculous amount of missed calls and texts from Betty, Veronica, and Kevin. You glanced at the time, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. It was 3:30am. What could they want this late?

You opened your texts and were flooded with information. Kevin was going to the river with Moose, Kevin and Moose had been caught at the river. Veronica was wondering if you had seen Betty. Betty was letting you know she was okay And finally, all three had messaged you the exact same thing, in almost uniform wording. five words that explained your feeling of dread.

They found Jason Blossom’s body. He was shot. Body. Corpse. Dead. You knew Jason was dead…but it was still like a punch to the stomach. Maybe a little part of you hadn’t believed it. Maybe a little part of you hoped your half brother was just…missing. But a corpse was irrefutable. Final. And more importantly…someone had killed him.

- -

After a restless four hours of attempting to sleep, your alarm saved you from your thoughts. Every time you closed your eyes you saw Jason staring back at you, his eyes dead, hair dripping with water, a bullet wound through his head. You couldn’t shake it from your head, you had no idea why you even cared that Jason was dead. You hadn’t known him.

You reached onto your nightstand and silenced your alarm. You threw the quilt off you and onto the floor, climbing out of your bed. You walked across your carpeted floor into the bathroom. You splashed cold water onto your face and then ran a damp hand through your hair to calm down.

You stepped into the shower and let the warm water wash away the dark thoughts and fears plaguing you. You got out of the shower and finished getting ready. You glanced at your phone after pulling on your shirt and groaned, you had taken longer in the shower than usual and had no time to eat breakfast. With a resigned huff, you pulled on your shoes and walked out the front door. When you got to riverdale high, Betty’s name was called over the announcements to come to the office. You decided to go to the office. You wanted to check on Betty after the shit storm that was the weekend.

You got to the office at the same time as Betty and Kevin. They smiled at you in greeting before Kevin caught sight of the mysterious yellow roses on the desk. “Oh, my god, those are gorgeous*. Are those for Betty, Mrs. Phillips?” Kevin said, walking closer to the flowers.

The decrepit old woman behind the desk gave Kevin a harsh stare. “That’s why I called her.”

Kevin snatched a white card from the center of the bouquet, “Dear Betty, please forgive me. XOXO, V?’ Who the hell is V?”

“Veronica.” Betty and Veronica said at the same time. Veronica stepped through the door from the hallway, holding a white box. “The yellow’s for friendship, I also had magnolia cupcakes flown in from New York…because, as my mom likes to say, there’s no wrong the right cupcake cannot fix.” Veronica took a tentative few steps towards Betty. “Also I- I booked us for hers-and-hers Mani-pedis at Chez Salon…blowouts too. I am so, so sorry, Betty. I don’t know what happened to me that night…It was such a basic bitch move. It- it was like I was possessed by-”

Kevin interrupted her, “Madame Satan?”* he asked snarkily.

“The old Veronica.” Veronica finished, looking down in shame. “And I will never, ever, do anything like that to you again. I swear on my mothers pearls. Just…can you please* give me one more chance?” Her eyes were pleading. Betty smiled and shrugged, “Okay.”

You, Veronica, and Kevin all spoke at the same time, “What?” “Really?!” Veronica’s words were excited, a huge grin on her face. Your’s and Kevin’s were shocked, his also accusing. You weren’t the hurt party here so you had decided to follow Betty’s example on the whole Veronica thing…but you honestly hadn’t expected that.

“Awesome! I’ll take it. And you won’t regret it!” Veronicas grin got wider. “Okay.” Betty said again, so quietly you almost hadn’t heard her.

“I’ll bring these to lunch so we can celebrate.” and with one last grin Veronica walked out of the Office as the Bell for class rang.

As soon as she was gone you and Kevin stared at Betty in shock, “It’s the path of least resistance guys. A week ago Veronica and I weren’t friends… Next week, we’ll nod to each other as we pass in the hall, but that’s it. In two weeks, she won’t even remember my name. And in three, she’ll have latched on to some other girl to destroy.” You and Kevin frowned. You didn’t think Veronica was out to destroy Betty…and you were positive that Betty wouldn’t get rid of Veronica that easily. But you kept quiet, not wanting to get on Betty’s already crowded bad side.

So you just nodded awkwardly and walked with them to class. The speakers crackled on and Weatherbee began the morning announcements before you could say anything more to Betty.

“There have been many inquiries about the upcoming pep rally. So let me state clearly…it is happening as scheduled. Now, on a less felicitous note…if you could give your attention to Sheriff Keller.” Another man’s voice came over the announcements, who you assumed was Kevin’s dad. “Most of you already know the details, but your classmate Jason Blossoms body was found late Saturday night. So as of this weekend…Jason’s death is now being treated as a homicide. It is an open and ongoing investigation.”

The entire school was silent. Everyone was staring at the speakers. Your fingers clutched at the necklace you were wearing, your knuckles going white. You were the only one not staring at the speakers. You were staring down, your face emotionless.

Cheryl’s voice crackled over the speakers. “And may I interject? Neither I nor my parents will rest until Jason’s death is avenged, and his cold-hearted killer is walking the green mile to sit in old sparky and fry. I for one, have my suspicions. hashtag “riverdale strong.”

Kevins father’s voice came back on, “If you know anything that could help us find and apprehend jason’s killer, or anything about what happened to him on july 4th, I strongly urge you to come forward immediately. You can speak with me or principal Weatherbee. A death like this wounds us all. Let’s not let Jason down.“

- -

Your first class was biology. As you walked in you instantly regretted it, there were dead frogs splayed on trays at each work station. It wasn’t that you were afraid of blood or anything, you just didn’t like…dissecting things.

Betty and Kevin had taken their seats at a desk by the window and all the other seats were taken… except for the one next to Jughead. “Hey…this seat taken?” You smiled hopefully at him. Jughead didn’t answer and just gestured for you to sit down. You smiled and took a seat next to him, setting your bag down on the floor. “You look moodier than usual…you okay?”

Before he could answer or you could press further, the teacher came in. “Seats everyone! Pair off, gloves on, scalpels up!” Your friends quickly paired off leaving you with no partner for the dissection.

“Heyyyyyy…so how are you with a scalpel?” You asked Jughead who, you assumed, also had no partner. considering he was still sitting next to you.

“Is that your way of asking me to be your partner?” Jughead raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yes?” you grinned sheepishly He just rolled his eyes. It wasn’t with annoyance though, it was more on the side of amusement. Jughead took out a pen and filled out your names on the top of the assignment paper.

Two of Cheryls cronies leaned on the desk you were both sitting at, completely ignoring you and Jughead and whispering nasty things about Cheryl. You were quickly becoming annoyed with them, but before your anger could get the best of you there was a sickening squelching sound of a scalpel being stabbed into one of the frogs. The girls jumped, you and Jughead whipping around to see Cheryl with her hand tightly gripping the scalpel. Her face was neutral but there was a definite murderous glare directed at the girls. You and Jughead stared for a few seconds more as the girls turned and fled from Cheryl’s eye line. You hadn’t known Cheryl Blossom that long but that had been extremely unsettling.

The rest of class passed by in a blur. You tried making jokes to cover your squeamishness and Jughead mostly ignored you, occasionally smirking or doing that eye roll thing again, but most of the class was passed in silence. Something was definitely off with jughead…but you couldn’t ask him what.

- -

Later that day at lunch you, Kevin, Betty, and Veronica were walking across the field, trays of food in hand. “sooo…” Veronica started, a playfulness in her voice, “what did Moose want?”

“Oh, my god. I don’t even think he knows. I mean, I am devastatingly handsome in that classic pre-accident Montgomery Clift kind of way, and sexuality is fluid, but can someone named ‘Moose’ actually be that fluid?” Kevin ranted.

Veronica laughed, “Okay, well I ship it.” “I ship it too! You deserve pretty things, Kev.” You grinned.

“Well of course you guys would! You’re big city girls with loose morals.” Kevins tone was teasing, but his joke wasn’t well received, given what had went down just two days earlier. “I just meant…that Moose has an official girlfriend. Midge. Anyway, it’s terrible to say, but part of me wishes he would just stay in the darn closet.” Kevin finished as you approached the blue picnic table where Archie was already sitting. Archie shot the four of you a confused and concerned look. “Obviously, I didn’t mean literal closet…” Kevin corrected.

“Comfy.” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Archie! Any new material you wanna try out on a very forgiving audience?” Veronica expertly changed the topic. “I–” Archie trailed off.

“Please?” she said, her eyebrows raised in plea. “Yeah, please Archie? you didn’t even let us hear the end of the last song!” You added.

“Would you? I’d love the hear it.” Betty said, a soft smile on her face.

That did it.

Archie sighed in resignation and reached for his guitar. “I’m still working on the lyrics, so…okay…” Archie sang the first few lines while the four of you watched him. It was actually amazing and you freaking loved Archies songs, even if you were a little unsure on how much you liked him as a person. Before he could get far into it, Betty looked like she was about to cry and he stopped.

You Kevin and Veronica applauded quietly. “Betty?” Archie’s voice was laced with concern, “You okay?” Betty had a distant and sad smile on her face as she looked away from the group. “I’m supposed to say yes. That’s what the nice girl always says, but…No, I’m not. I-I want to be. I thought I could be, but it’s too much, too fast. Archie…” Betty turned and walked away crying.

Archie bolted up, “Betty–Betty, wait!” Archie ran off, leaving you, Kevin, and Veronica watching in stunned silence, none of you knowing what to say. You watched as Betty and Archie had a pretty intense conversation. You, Kevin, and Veronica all sat with baited breath. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but it didn’t look good. Finally it ended, Betty walking off about to cry and Weatherbee calling Archie to see him. The three of you shared a stunned look, Kevin’s mouth open in shock and Veronica at a loss for words.

- - -

The next day you caught up to Betty and Veronica at their lockers, both locked in an intense conversation. When you approached they stopped talking and smiled at you. “Hey (y/n)!” Betty greeted you. You waved awkwardly, feeling like you had just intruded in on a relatively intense moment. “Hey guys, sorry can’t actually stay to talk I haven’t eaten yet and I’m freaking starving. There’s a vending machine in the lounge thingy right?” Betty nodded and pointed in the direction of the vending machines, You smiled gratefully and took off.

You walked through double doors into a room filled with couches and loud-mouthed jocks. You navigated your way to the back of the room. Betty, Veronica, and Kevin arrived in the room soon after, but quickly split off into different places, Veronica began talking to resident playboy (and suspected dickwad) Chuck Clayton, and Kevin and Betty took a seat at the edge of the room to do some homework.  

You walked over to the vending machines and contemplated the machines contents, There were mostly off brand chips and overly processed suspicious looking packets of jerky. You groaned in frustration, “I think I’d rather starve to death than attempt to eat anything in here…” you muttered to yourself.

“I think eating anything in there would kill you a lot faster than starvation.” You jumped slightly, startled at the sound of Jughead’s voice.

“Jesus! Don’t you know its not polite to sneak up on people?” You accused. “I didn’t sneak up on you.” Jugheads lips were curled into the faintest of smirks.

You were about to argue back that he had, in fact, snuck up on you, when Reggie’s voice cut you off. 

“If a kid at Riverdale killed Jason, it’s not gonna be a jock, right? No, let’s be honest. isn’t it always some spooky, scrawny, internet troll, too busy writing his manifestos to get laid? Some smug, moody, serial-killer-fanboy freak. Like Jughead!” You rolled your eyes at Reggie, his loud-mouthing was getting old real fast.

“What was it like, suicide squad? When you shot Jason? You didn’t do stuff to the body, did you? Like, after.” Jughead closed his eyes in annoyance and then lazily turned his gaze to Reggie, his arms crossed. “It’s called necrophilia, Reggie. Can you spell it?” You grinned at Jugheads retort, Reggie however, found it less amusing.

“Come here you little–!” Reggie leaped over the back of the couch he was sitting on, towards you and Jughead. But before you could blink Archie had shoved in front of the two of you, pushing Reggie back. “Hey, shut the hell up, Reggie.” Archie shoved Reggie away. You took the opportunity to get out of the way before things got ugly.

Veronica stood up, “Boys?” her face plastered with concern. Reggie looked Archie up and down, “What do you care, Andrews?” “Nothing, just leave him alone.”

“Holy crap. Did you and Donnie Darko kill him together? Was it some sort of pervy blood brothers thing?” You snorted in amusement. This kid was a special kind of stupid.

Archie didn’t answer and shoved Reggie forcefully, Jughead shouted but it was lost in the chaos as Reggie and Archie slammed into the vending machine, shattering the glass. Jughead tried to pull Reggie off of Archie but one of the Jocks pulled him off. Reggie punched Archie, knocking him out. You didn’t know what to do, but it looked like Reggie was going to punch him again. You did the only thing you could think of…and hit him with your backpack. 

The bag made contact with Reggie’s back and he stopped mid swing. He got up and stared at you, rage in his eyes. You were a little terrified but Archie was your friend…kind of. And Reggie was a massive dick. Everyone’s eyes were on you as you spoke, a false confidence making your words sound steady. “That’s enough, Mantle. He’s unconscious.*”

He grinned, “Oh, so Andrews gets his girlfriend to rescue him now? Can’t fight his own battles?”

“Im not Archie’s girlfriend. What I am is someone who doesn’t like loud mouthed jocks that pick on everybody to hide their own insecurities and issues.”  your tone was cold and biting.

Reggie was pissed, his hand curled into a fist, but you weren’t done. “You, reggie mantle, are just a highschool has-been waiting to happen.” He actually looked like he was going to hit you, but you knew better. Hitting a girl is a big no-no, even among the jocks. He walked up to you and towered over you, trying to be intimidating. “What are you gonna do, Reg? Hit a girl?”

You sidestepped him casually and knelt down next to Archie, motioning for some of the guys to help carry him to the nurse’s office. You walked out alongside the people carrying the unconscious red-head and your friends followed you out. Kevin and Veronica cornered you as soon as you were clear of the room.

“Holy crap (y/n)! Where did that come from?” Kevin grinned at you, a flicker of what seemed to be pride in his voice. “Yeah girl, that was AMAZING!” Veronica added. 

You smiled wearily, “Yeah, well, can it be amazing in the bathroom? Because I think I might puke. That was straight up terrifying.” - - - The night of the pep rally you were running to the football field. You were already late, and you and you had promised Betty and Veronica that you were going to watch their cheer performance. Your shirt had been buttoned in a hurry and you had forgotten your jacket,  but you were sure as hell not going to break a promise to your friends.

You got there as the game was just starting and you swore, You spotted Jughead and jogged over to him. “Any chance in hell I didn’t miss the cheerleaders performance?” Jughead furrowed his eyebrows at your weird question and disheveled performance. “I promised Betty I’d come out and support them…and then I kind of lost track of time…” you offered as explanation. Jughead nodded with a faint smile on face.

“Is that a real smile on your face, Jones? Wow that’s gotta be like, the seventh sign of the apocalypse, right?…So what brought that on?” Jughead rolled his eyes, but, like always, there was a warmth behind it. “Just had a good chat with an old friend.”

You grinned playfully, “Well, I like it. Looks good on you.” You suddenly looked semi-concerned. “Hey do you think they noticed I was missing? Probably not, right? Jeez, if I had known I was going to miss it anyways I would’ve grabbed my sweater. It’s freaking freezing.” Warm fabric was gently draped around your shoulders. You looked up in confusion to see Jughead’s jacket on your shoulders. “Just to be clear, this isn’t a boy giving his coat to a girl he likes. This is a friend lending another friend his jacket because she tore a new one in Reggie Mantle to stop him from further beating up the first friends other friend.” Jughead was staring at the football field, turned completely away from you. “You lost me at the third friend, but thanks for the jacket.” You smiled softly and turned to the game. You passed the next few hours in comfortable silence, just watching the game surrounded by noise and people and the rain. But it all just kind of blurred as you stood next to Jughead.

- -

After the game, Archie had invited Jughead and you to Pop’s, which you had happily accepted. Any excuse to go to a place with food was good with you. When the three of you walked in the door, Betty and Veronica were already in a booth. The five of you stared at eachother and betty smiled. “Do you guys wanna join us?”

Jughead smirked. “Yes, but only if you’re treating.” You nodded in agreement as the two girls laughed. “Veronica Lodge.” Veronica introduced herself. “Jughead Jones, the Third” Jughead answered, climbing into the seat next to the window.

“Jughead Jones the Third.” Veronica echoed, her eyes narrowing a bit and a smile on her face. You laughed and pulled up a chair rather than squeezing into the booth. “He really likes the ‘the Third’ bit.” Everybody was laughing and smiling as you all sat there around the booth at Pops. 

And for one shining moment, you were all just kids.

[annakie]

Five Years

Today is my five year anniversary at my job.

Every once in awhile I read back to blog posts I made both here and on Livejournal in the days of old about my old job.  Posts that were mostly ranting and upset and made while very stressed out.  I didn’t always hate that job, but by the end of it I was miserable.  I was there nearly 11 and a half years.

Then, a former co-worker there emailed me at the end of December 2011 and told me there was an opening in his company I’d be perfect for.

I had actually interviewed there a year before for a job I was not qualified for, and loved the company and the people but knew I wouldn’t get the job.

At my job, things were just then at that moment going from terrible to not as bad (I’d gotten moved out of my office two years earlier, I was getting it back, I was having duties that didn’t fall in my job description removed again and was supposed to start training to do more things I wanted to do.  I’d gotten a new boss I liked, for the most part a month or two earlier) so at first I was like... I don’t know if I want to move now that things are getting better.

But I agreed, and had lunch with my co-worker and his boss, who would become my boss, anyway.

That lunch was more like “sit around and talk and laugh and oh here’s 10 minutes where we’ll talk about the job” than an interview.

Afterwards, he emailed me and said he’d be writing up the job offer but it might be awhile til I received it.

I was like “Oh, ok!” thinking “awhile” would be, you know, a week or two.

But I verbally accepted pending negotiations and told my mom.  She was like “Congrats, now let’s burn some of your vacation time before you switch jobs” and got us a last minute deal on a cruise for two weeks later.

Turns out “awhile” was “the next day” and I accepted, pending moving my start date out a bit.  And I negotiated my salary to getting a nearly 30% pay bump over my old job.

I went on vacation with my mom (you got all your vacation at the beginning of the year so they wouldn’t have to pay out when you left, so screw ‘em), came back and turned in my notice, and two weeks later, on February 13th 2012, I started my job here.

Even though I’d contracted a terrible cold my last day at my old job (one last fuck you I guess haha) and so was sick when I got here.  I told everyone I was “just getting over” a cold and didn’t shake hands on my first day.

God, I am so much happier here.  I love my job, tbh.  

I like the work.  Some days it’s challenging.  Some days it’s mundane.  But I’m good at it, and I mostly enjoy it, even during audit season (July & August) when I’m working tons of extra hours and Audit Week is nerve wracking.  But the entire company has my back and our team’s back and we manage to pass without exceptions every year (so far.)

I like the office environment.  Even if the commute is farther than I’d like (~25 minutes in the morning, ~40 minutes home), it’s not crazy.  Our open floorplan for IT and Development keeps us all connected and social, but still we are all courteous to each other.  We get free snacks and drinks, and have the most awesome water cooler with the best tasting water.  We have a cool lounge that our office manager and I put together we use for meetings and hanging out.  When I wanted to paint a wall in the kitchen, our CEO said go for it and let us paint the wall.  We have parties for birthdays, a monthly catered breakfast, and fun outings occasionally.

I like that I get to travel occasionally.  We have other offices in Memphis and Lexington and I love going to visit them.  Road tripping with Eric or Ryan is a lot of fun, and the people there are great.

I love the people I work with.  With only a few exceptions my co-workers are almost all amazing people and though there is some head-butting occasionally and sometimes a new hire that doesn’t work out, 95% of the people I’ve worked with here are amazing, while we’re here we want to do our best and actually get our work done, and work as a team on almost every level.  I mean, there are some problems sometimes, but compared to most places, it’s a dream.

I love that our bosses are understanding about taking time off, flexible scheduling, working from home, not making us come in when it’s dangerous outside, send us home early on pre-holiday days, good benefits.

And I love my team. There are five of us on my team and we are a friend group almost as much as co-workers.  We have a group chat that includes a couple of others we work closely with and chat almost daily, even on weekends. We support each other, and help each other out.  If I need something and I can’t ask my RL friends for it, I can ask my teammates and I know they’ll be there for me.

A lot of things suck in my life right now.  But my job isn’t one of them.  There’s been very very few days in the last five years where I wake up and think “I really don’t want to go to work today.”  (And if I really feel that way, I can just work from home most of the time.)  Coming to work usually brightens my day, and though I love coming from home from work, I almost like getting there as much.  I know very well how blessed and lucky I am to have this job, and rarely complain about it even when I have something to complain about.  When I go on vacation or have a long weekend, I’m usually looking forward to coming back by the end of it.

Sometimes I think back to when I was considering telling Eric “Nah, I don’t want to switch jobs right now” after I’d been at my old job 11.5 years and things were “getting better”.  I’m so glad I didn’t let myself say no.  Because one of the things I regret least in my life is taking this job.

I honestly hope it lasts at least another five years.

[baburaja97-blog]

New Post has been published on Vin Zite

New Post has been published on https://vinzite.com/computer-maintenance-computer-repair/

Computer Maintenance - Computer Repair

Computer Repair Hawaii

Computer Repair Services in Hawaii is not so much different than the mainland, particularly on the island of Oahu, but there are a few challenges. Having lived on Oahu over 45 years ago in Ewa Beach, and returning just over 7 years ago, the scene has changed drastically. Things were more rural back then, and of course, there was no internet.

In Oahu, people seem to work on one side of the island and work on the other. Since there are only 1 or 2 ways to get around, traffic can be extremely congested, and parking can be a challenge. So whether you are looking for a Computer Repair Shop to drop off your computer, or waiting for a Mobile Technician to drive out to you, timing can be a challenge. For some reason, even in Paradise, things can get pretty busy. With that said, I just wanted to put out my two-cents that affect both the customer and the service provider about computer repair in Oahu.

Traffic Challenges

If you live in Waianae, Waialua, Haleiwa, or the North Shore, Windward and around Waimanalo, you will have to rely on Mobile Technicians willing to come out to your location or to drive the distance yourself. The problem with dropping off a sick computer yourself is that most shops open about 9-10am and close at 6 pm. You either have to take time off from work, hope traffic is light after getting off work or just wait until a day off.

For some reason, there are no shops I am aware of in Waianae, Haleiwa and all throughout the North Shore. Shops on the Windward side are scarce as well, but I vaguely heard that there may be a shop out in Kaneohe, but they must not do much advertising. If you have a Macintosh, there is definitely a shop in Kailua, just be aware that not all shops repair both PCs and Macs, and neither do mobile technicians.

My Rant About Windward Computer Repair

Concerning computer repair for our valued Windward customers, I have to rant a little bit. Windward customers in Kaneohe and Kailua are fiercely loyal to their local businesses, which is a good thing. But when it comes to computer repair and they are looking for a mobile technician, they always want someone who seems closer to where they are, which at first, seems to make sense.

If they call you and you actually have a physical location and provide both in-shop and mobile services, they get hung-up on your shop’s physical location even though they are calling for mobile service. The truth is, that they have no idea where the technician is coming from. The technician might already be scheduled to be out in that area for another customer and can easily set an appointment for you as well. They aren’t necessarily just sitting around at home all day waiting for you to call, so you just can’t assume where they will be dispatched from. That may sound harsh, but it always surprises me when we spend some valuable time over the phone with a prospective customer, trying to understand their computer problems and comfort them with our solution to their problem, and as soon as we mention that our shop is over the hill on the other side of H3, they start backing out of the conversation almost as if they thought they were doing “us” a favor and say thanks but no thanks, we’ll just call someone a little closer. I don’t get it, and even when I can truthfully say that I have a tech in the area already, they don’t care. I know other shop owners who get this same response about mobile repair on the Windward side. The fact is that we are happy to serve customers on the Windward side, and we appreciate their loyalty once they finally hire us to repair their computer. But it is a hurdle starting that relationship. I might add that it is a beautiful drive to the Windward side, especially if you get to drive back through the Northshore if you have the time. I always look forward to a good Shrimp Plate lunch from one of my favorite shrimp trucks along the way.

Parking for Mobile Computer Repair Technicians

If your business or home is located in a relatively populated area away from the areas I just mentioned, you’ll have plenty of options for both in-shop and onsite computer repair in Oahu. But if you need service in the congested business areas of downtown or Waikiki, parking is a problem. My suggestion is that if you want prompt service, that you provide information to the technician about the most convenient place to park as well as any parking fees (which may be added to your bill). You might even be able to pre-arrange parking in a reserved area for vendors. And lastly, it even helps to know details such as any vehicle height restrictions for parking garages, or detours due to emergency or special events.

Giving Directions

When setting an appointment for mobile service, it is vital that you provide an accurate address and phone number. Many local Hawaii residents prefer to give directions and landmarks than actual addresses, but Mobile Technicians end up learning the island pretty well and even use GPS devices these days. Some even print out directions with Yahoo or Google before coming out. We would prefer that you just give us your complete address and then maybe a landmark if you live in an obscure hard to find location. We need the address for our invoice anyway. We appreciate the directions, but customers somehow assume we will be driving to their location the same way they do every day, but the fact is that we might be coming from the other way, and then left become right, and right becomes left and it gets confusing while driving.

Be Sure to Give and Get Correct Phone Numbers

As for your phone number, things happen and we may need to call you. We also like to call before we come out to ensure you’ll be home. Fortunately, we aren’t like the cable companies that tell you they will arrive between 9-5. Mobile Technicians can usually provide you with a 30-60 minute window. But if you have something come up, we would appreciate if you could call us as soon as possible to postpone.

Also, be sure that you know which Computer Repair company you made the appointment with and have their correct number. Many customers call quite a few shops before they choose who they will make their appointment with and get phone numbers mixed up. Some even call us more than once because we have more than one phone number. It gets quite funny hearing the same person calling again, now using a better description of their problem because of talking to us earlier. The problem is that it might get confusing to remember who you chose in the end. Now and then I’ll get a person calling us by mistake to cancel an appointment that we never made. Imagine the frustration of the technician when he drove out to your home or business just to find out that you said you called and canceled already, why are you here?

In-Shop vs Onsite Computer Maintenance

This basically boils down to price, turn-around time and convenience. In-shop repair fees are usually flat rate fee based, and takes days to get back, but you will get more thorough service this way. Shops are also more prepared for the extremely difficult problems. With shops, you can just walk-in during normal business hours, although you should call first to get guidance on what to bring. For laptops, you should always bring the AC Adapter (battery charger). For desktops, we usually only need the computer itself (no cables or peripherals, although it wouldn’t hurt if you brought your CDs).

Onsite service is usually hourly fee based, and may even have a trip charge. Onsite service by nature is by appointment only, but many problems can be diagnosed and repaired within an hour or two. With onsite service, it is crucial that you describe your computer problem as well as possible, because if it sounds obvious that it might be a hardware problem, your computer may be a better candidate for in-shop repair. It’s already difficult enough to get certain types of parts on the island such as motherboards and CPUs at a Computer Store, so you can expect that a Mobile Technician will not have every part needed to fix every computer in their vehicle. Some parts even have to be ordered online and can take a week or so to arrive. Hopefully, you can see the complications this may cause with setting another appointment as well as how the technician will bill you for the first and second appointments. It would just be better to bring these problem computers to a shop.

Major Limitations for Mobile Only Technicians

I certainly do not want to knock mobile only technicians, because I got my start that way. But you have to know that these ones can only service a small finite number of customers in any given day. Many people get attached to their computer guy once trust is established, but it can get frustrating when your trusty Mobile PC Tech cannot make it out fast enough. They might even need to take a vacation and when you get a hold of them on their cell phone, you find out they are on the mainland for a week or two. If you can’t wait, you have to find someone else.

Mobile repair is limited as well for reasons spelled out in the “In-Shop vs Onsite Computer Maintenance” section above. There are also certain types of maintenance that will never get done onsite due to how long it will take. If I think I have to perform a surface scan on a hard drive just for starters (which can take 2 hours or more in some cases), I almost immediately recommend I take the computer back to the shop to complete at the flat rate. Some computers develop multiple problems and can take 4-5 hours to repair. For one, it will save you on further hourly charges, but it will also help the technician to be on time for other appointments after you since he probably only allotted 2 hours for your appointment. The complicated part is that a mobile technician may not have a shop to take your computer to, and may only be able to take it to their home. If you are okay with that, then fine, no problem.

I would add that a technician that has both in-shop and onsite experience are the best technicians. For mobile only technicians, it can be hard to get this experience because they will rarely get a customer that is willing to pay a technician to spend 4-5 hours onsite, not to mention having to dedicate their own personal time as well to be there. But if the technician doesn’t ever get the chance to spend time on the real hard problems, it is unlikely that they will ever progress to become a master technician. If you were choosing a doctor for a complicated surgery, how concerned would you be about his or her experience? The answer is obvious.

Anyway, while our computers and online lives might not be life and death situations, we seem dependent on them nevertheless. So I hope this insight into both sides of Computer Maintenance and Repair in Hawaii help you make the right decisions when that inevitable computer problem occurs. That way, you can be armed with the insight to make the best choice available for your computer needs.

[beingmad2017-blog]

Computer Maintenance - Computer Repair in Hawaii

New Post has been published on https://beingmad.org/computer-maintenance-computer-repair-in-hawaii/

Computer Maintenance - Computer Repair in Hawaii

Computer Repair Hawaii

Computer Repair Services in Hawaii is not so much different than the mainland, particularly on the island of Oahu, but there are a few challenges. Having lived on Oahu over 45 years ago in Ewa Beach, and returning just over 7 years ago, the scene has changed drastically. Things were more rural back then, and of course, there was no internet.

In Oahu, people seem to work on one side of the island and work on the other. Since there are only 1 or 2 ways to get around, traffic can be extremely congested, and parking can be a challenge. So whether you are looking for a Computer Repair Shop to drop off your computer, or waiting for a Mobile Technician to drive out to you, timing can be a challenge. For some reason, even in Paradise, things can get pretty busy. With that said, I just wanted to put out my two-cents that affect both the customer and the service provider about computer repair in Oahu.

Traffic Challenges

If you live in Waianae, Waialua, Haleiwa, or the North Shore, Windward and around Waimanalo, you will have to rely on Mobile Technicians willing to come out to your location or to drive the distance yourself. The problem with dropping off a sick computer yourself is that most shops open about 9-10am and close at 6 pm. You either have to take time off from work, hope traffic is light after getting off work or just wait until a day off.

For some reason, there are no shops I am aware of in Waianae, Haleiwa and all throughout the North Shore. Shops on the Windward side are scarce as well, but I vaguely heard that there may be a shop out in Kaneohe, but they must not do much advertising. If you have a Macintosh, there is definitely a shop in Kailua, just be aware that not all shops repair both PCs and Macs, and neither do mobile technicians.

My Rant About Windward Computer Repair

Concerning computer repair for our valued Windward customers, I have to rant a little bit. Windward customers in Kaneohe and Kailua are fiercely loyal to their local businesses, which is a good thing. But when it comes to computer repair and they are looking for a mobile technician, they always want someone who seems closer to where they are, which at first, seems to make sense.

If they call you and you actually have a physical location and provide both in-shop and mobile services, they get hung-up on your shop’s physical location even though they are calling for mobile service. The truth is, that they have no idea where the technician is coming from. The technician might already be scheduled to be out in that area for another customer and can easily set an appointment for you as well. They aren’t necessarily just sitting around at home all day waiting for you to call, so you just can’t assume where they will be dispatched from. That may sound harsh, but it always surprises me when we spend some valuable time over the phone with a prospective customer, trying to understand their computer problems and comfort them with our solution to their problem, and as soon as we mention that our shop is over the hill on the other side of H3, they start backing out of the conversation almost as if they thought they were doing “us” a favor and say thanks but no thanks, we’ll just call someone a little closer. I don’t get it, and even when I can truthfully say that I have a tech in the area already, they don’t care. I know other shop owners who get this same response about mobile repair on the Windward side. The fact is that we are happy to serve customers on the Windward side, and we appreciate their loyalty once they finally hire us to repair their computer. But it is a hurdle starting that relationship. I might add that it is a beautiful drive to the Windward side, especially if you get to drive back through the Northshore if you have the time. I always look forward to a good Shrimp Plate lunch from one of my favorite shrimp trucks along the way.

Parking for Mobile Computer Repair Technicians

If your business or home is located in a relatively populated area away from the areas I just mentioned, you’ll have plenty of options for both in-shop and onsite computer repair in Oahu. But if you need service in the congested business areas of downtown or Waikiki, parking is a problem. My suggestion is that if you want prompt service, that you provide information to the technician about the most convenient place to park as well as any parking fees (which may be added to your bill). You might even be able to pre-arrange parking in a reserved area for vendors. And lastly, it even helps to know details such as any vehicle height restrictions for parking garages, or detours due to emergency or special events.

Giving Directions

When setting an appointment for mobile service, it is vital that you provide an accurate address and phone number. Many local Hawaii residents prefer to give directions and landmarks than actual addresses, but Mobile Technicians end up learning the island pretty well and even use GPS devices these days. Some even print out directions with Yahoo or Google before coming out. We would prefer that you just give us your complete address and then maybe a landmark if you live in an obscure hard to find location. We need the address for our invoice anyway. We appreciate the directions, but customers somehow assume we will be driving to their location the same way they do every day, but the fact is that we might be coming from the other way, and then left become right, and right becomes left and it gets confusing while driving.

Be Sure to Give and Get Correct Phone Numbers

As for your phone number, things happen and we may need to call you. We also like to call before we come out to ensure you’ll be home. Fortunately, we aren’t like the cable companies that tell you they will arrive between 9-5. Mobile Technicians can usually provide you with a 30-60 minute window. But if you have something come up, we would appreciate if you could call us as soon as possible to postpone.

Also, be sure that you know which Computer Repair company you made the appointment with and have their correct number. Many customers call quite a few shops before they choose who they will make their appointment with and get phone numbers mixed up. Some even call us more than once because we have more than one phone number. It gets quite funny hearing the same person calling again, now using a better description of their problem because of talking to us earlier. The problem is that it might get confusing to remember who you chose in the end. Now and then I’ll get a person calling us by mistake to cancel an appointment that we never made. Imagine the frustration of the technician when he drove out to your home or business just to find out that you said you called and canceled already, why are you here?

In-Shop vs Onsite Computer Maintenance

This basically boils down to price, turn-around time and convenience. In-shop repair fees are usually flat rate fee based, and takes days to get back, but you will get more thorough service this way. Shops are also more prepared for the extremely difficult problems. With shops, you can just walk-in during normal business hours, although you should call first to get guidance on what to bring. For laptops, you should always bring the AC Adapter (battery charger). For desktops, we usually only need the computer itself (no cables or peripherals, although it wouldn’t hurt if you brought your CDs).

Onsite service is usually hourly fee based, and may even have a trip charge. Onsite service by nature is by appointment only, but many problems can be diagnosed and repaired within an hour or two. With onsite service, it is crucial that you describe your computer problem as well as possible, because if it sounds obvious that it might be a hardware problem, your computer may be a better candidate for in-shop repair. It’s already difficult enough to get certain types of parts on an island such as motherboards and CPUs at a Computer Store, so you can expect that a Mobile Technician will not have every part needed to fix every computer in their vehicle. Some parts even have to be ordered online and can take a week or so to arrive. Hopefully, you can see the complications this may cause with setting another appointment as well as how the technician will bill you for the first and second appointments. It would just be better to bring these problem computers to a shop.

Major Limitations for Mobile Only Technicians

I certainly do not want to knock mobile only technicians, because I got my start that way. But you have to know that these ones can only service a small finite number of customers in any given day. Many people get attached to their computer guy once trust is established, but it can get frustrating when your trusty Mobile PC Tech cannot make it out fast enough. They might even need to take a vacation and when you get a hold of them on their cell phone, you find out they are on the mainland for a week or two. If you can’t wait, you have to find someone else.

Mobile repair is limited as well for reasons spelled out in the “In-Shop vs Onsite Computer Maintenance” section above. There are also certain types of maintenance that will never get done onsite due to how long it will take. If I think I have to perform a surface scan on a hard drive just for starters (which can take 2 hours or more in some cases), I almost immediately recommend I take the computer back to the shop to complete at the flat rate. Some computers develop multiple problems and can take 4-5 hours to repair. For one, it will save you on further hourly charges, but it will also help the technician to be on time for other appointments after you since he probably only allotted 2 hours for your appointment. The complicated part is that a mobile technician may not have a shop to take your computer to, and may only be able to take it to their home. If you are okay with that, then fine, no problem.