#worked overtime this week. will not get paid for it. YAY

[upontherisers]

can’t wait to get to fic reading this weekend! please tag me if you’ve posted something this week and i haven’t liked it yet to bookmark

[acidicegret001]

Steel, iron, nuts and bolts Poor man's gold in rusted vaults Scrap, tin, wheels and gears Shift by shift and year by year Rod, beam, sheet and plate Ironclad, you sealed your fate All that shines shall fade in time Welded put the day you signed

The production line You better do your best, forget about sunshine 'Cause you won't see it where you're going And the only thing you know is You won't get to have your lunch on time Or ever again, 'Cause every second you spend That isn't meeting an end that an executive penned Is another debt that you render that'll let them extend Upon the length of your tenure where you're ever condemned

Well, would you look at that, life's coming thick and fast I run and zig and zag amid the tat, pick and pack, bric-a-brac Click and drag, mix and match, stick a stack in my sack 'Til it could fill a skip of scrap then bring it back quick as a flash

We're scrappy and resilient, we're happy and we're diligent But that's just if you're listening to marketing transmissions Contractually itinerant, a dastardly predicament Entrapped within a system hauling scrap for the omnipotent Voices in the radio that point us in which way to go The base we're excavating What we're paid and then the pay we owe Uncertain of the purpose to the service that we're slaving over Purge the lunar surface of its worth to meet the daily quote

Some of us are living to work Some of us are working to live Some of us are making while others are just taking And some of us are dying to give

Whoop! Yay! Hooray! Another day at the office Slaving away and generating the profits Heading straight for the pockets of the laziest bosses If it wasn't for me, then they'd be making a loss It's a struggle working double shifts, selling my soul So my landlord doesn't have to do any at all I'm clearly very important while you're merely a drone

Giving me steady employment just to dwell in a hole That I can barely afford, belly unfilled like Oliver Twist Begging for more, I don't want to exist No longer stomaching it, wanna be somebody diff' But I'm stuck as it is, so stuff it, double my shifts Rub out the family time in your diary, erase it all They'll only hire me if I'll be reliably available Yet, I appear, clearly entirely replaceable (The irony's I find it to be kind of inspirational)

Anxiety will make you more inclined to reach a greater goal Until you find me crying quietly against the wall I miss my wife, I miss my kids, I miss my life, can't live like this Perhaps for once if salary might rise in line with rent We'd have the funds to rise and shine, not rise in line, content To sacrifice our family lives to those on high, hell-bent On empires founded on the thousands drowned in the cement

I am the very model of a model employee I never leave my shuttle, can't afford to pay those fees My overtime does overtime, I work nine days a week And I never hit that bottle 'til it's time to take a pee

Some of us are making a killing While some are barely making a living Is a life worth saving without life savings It's a nine-to-five, 25-to-life in prison

Lift off, ticktock, the big clock's a-ticking Drift in, dropped off at the drop ship's position Sod tip top condition, a tip's what you live in Drop shipping top tip - "Tips will not be given"

With this cost of living what do lives cost? Well, the customer ain't fussed over the lives lost We're discounted, under the counter, half off In stocks, at the gallows for the price drop To rock bottom, ba-da-da-dum Sing the jingle, give a whistle, here's your lot, plod on It's official, sacrificial, sing the company song Before they bop the stop-button on your oxygen

Two guys moonlight on a new moon nightly Tryna find loot like, "Ooh, that'll do nicely" Lamp, cookie mold, jar, fish, stop sign Pan, whoopie, gold bar, gift box, MINE! No, mine No, MINE!

Should you be hurt in our place of employment It'll be worse than a band-aid and some ointment There isn't a nurse with whom to make an appointment There's really just certain doom, painfully poignant Each day tossed upon the scrapheap Struggling to meet pay, care to mind the gap, cheap Labor can be replaced when there are fatalities Several men a week slayed, tumbling from the gantries

In what kind of dimension is debris so decrepit Worth more than all the lives amongst the men you send to get it? The minions paid a pittance from the millions you inherit And then billed for the equipment Before they get to spend the credits

"Have you had an accident at work that wasn't your fault?" "No, you haven't, it absolutely was your fault!"

Some of us are living to work Some of us are working to live Some of us are making while others are just taking And some of us are dying to give

We all bought the production line We all toe the production line We all march in production line We all signed the production line

It's a hell of a show, better the devil you know Just another shift, try to keep a grip Haven't slept a wink and my vision starts to drift We're here to sell you your soul, next day and ready to go Filling up the ship, just another trip Maddened, on the brink, in no position to resist The wheels of progress, they turn, so get ahead or go home I got a quota to meet or else it's over for me And when my rota's complete then I can hopefully leave Just never question what burns to run the engines below We were sold on a dream but now they won't let us sleep Take a moment to grieve and you'll owe them a fee

My school careers adviser couldn't be any nicer She was just like, "Might as well give up and die, bruh" It isn't that likely we'll experience retirement When staying alive's a minimum requirement I've trained, I've tried, 'til I'm strained, I'm tired I'd trade my trade for a train driver's But I'm afraid that the end of the line Isn't a place I'll arrive 'til the end of my life

I am the very model of a model employee Because I'm used to being toyed with by those far bigger than me Painfully aware my fate to bear's as cog in a machine Just one more face cast off to space for products on a screen

Production line Production line Production line Production line Production line Production line Production line Production line

We all bought the production line We all toe the production line We all march in production line We all signed the production line

Some of us are making a killing While some are barely making a living Is a life worth saving without life savings It's a nine-to-five, 25-to-life in prison

Some of us are living to work Some of us are working to live Some of us are making while others are just taking And some of us are dying to give

It's a hell of a show, better the devil you know We're here to sell you your soul, next day and ready to go We all signed the production line

[goshdangronpa]

When I'm not writing Danganronpa fan fiction, I moonlight as a professional content/copywriter. All the fresh discourse about plagiarism is reminding me of some formative experiences in my work life, and certain people I've met ...

My first job was with a fast-paced marketing company. The in-house writing team maintained weekly blogs for a bunch of clients, and each writer had to write two 1000-word blog posts a day. That's tough, especially for someone who was still pretty fresh in the field. We were salaried rather than hourly (!), so there was no incentive to staying late ... but that also meant the company didn't have to fret about overtime pay, so we could stay late if we needed it. I'd regularly be the last one in the office, still pumping out words in the struggle to meet deadlines.

Much of my time was spent on research. I knew little about the subjects at hand, which were sometimes highly technical, so I couldn't just BS my way through assignments. I even requested and received permission to take one client's worker education course, just so I could know what the heck I was writing about. It didn't seem at all remarkable to me. It was a job. My job. Although I could've been better, or at least faster, I simply did what needed to be done.

I learned that others took a ... different approach.

One supervisor was on sabbatical for the first couple of months I worked there. I respected them as my superior. Then I was assigned to peer-edit one of their articles, something we did with everything we wrote. One uncited claim led me to Google ... where I found a nearly identical article already published. Supervisor did the ol' switcheroo of amending sentence structures and swapping words for poorly chosen synonyms. I brought it up with them, saying I wouldn't report the incident but urged them to not do that. I can't recall what happened next, other than not trusting Supervisor anymore.

After three months passed, I was up for employee review. The bosses liked what they've read - yay! And then they said, "Here's why we're not giving you a raise." My stomach dropped. Apparently, they checked how many articles everyone wrote. I was behind on a quota I knew nothing about. If I wanted more money, I should take a page from the writer in the lead. Champ had somehow written 60 articles in the past month. Amazing! My employer set a goal much humbler than what my work friend had surpassed. If Champ could do that much, surely I could do this little.

Reader, I did my best. I stayed at the office later and later, especially as the date of my next employee review drew near. Due to my salaried status, I wasn't even paid for that overtime, but I put in the time anyway. It was all for nothing. Just a week before the next meeting, where they would've decided whether I deserved a raise or not, they laid off virtually the entire writing department. Apparently, underpaying freelancers who don't get benefits was easier.

Only one person from the crew stayed. If it was gonna be anybody, it was golden goose Champ, who maintained their insane pace. I wished them well.

Anyone wanna guess the secret behind Champ's prodigious output? It's the same reason they got fired just a few weeks later.

The reveal was a betrayal. We were friends, Champ and I, getting each other through the grind of the content mill with sarcastic humor and deep conversations. They encouraged and motivated me to keep up, all the while hiding some dirty tricks that eventually helped them stay in the race while I spun out. I was shocked to discover that I had zero empathy for them. But they deserved none, the filthy plagiarist. Haven't spoken to them since finding out.

This may not be as sordid as everything H. Bomberguy discusses in his brilliant new video. My coworkers and I were literally anonymous, with no clout to speak of, let alone abuse. Our clients were small businesses with little platform, which is why they contracted a marketing agency in the first place. Still, it hurt the hell out of me, and I wasn't even the one being copied! Plagiarism is a curse word in my household, lowest of the low (without getting into, like, actual atrocity).

And you know what? Years later, what I wrote for that company still holds up in my eyes. Those old blog posts aren't exactly the Great American Novel, or even on par with what I'd write as I gained more experience, but I put the effort into writing high-quality and original stuff. I worked hard. I still work hard. As self-deprecating and even self-loathing as I can be, I'll always pride myself on this. May you writers out there be able to pride yourselves on this, too.

[cognitiveleague]

Truly one of the more frustrating recurring experiences of trying to navigate life as a grown-ass person with ADHD is that like… it’s so goddamn hard to keep my brain (which is, y’know, diagnosably deficient in Reward Self for Accomplishing Task juice) motivated to put forward the effort to take care of chores and errands and shit, because I have so many unpleasant memories of failing at that sort of thing and I feel so little sense of reward (or even relief) when I do get things done that it’s this huge effort to not just… ignore tasks until they develop into a Bullshit Avalanche that I can no longer ignore? And when I do force myself to Do Something, running into obstacles can make me feel so frustrated and embarrassed that it’s almost as if I’m being punished for trying to accomplish the task and it would have been better not to try in the first place

Like today I noticed that I’d worked about an extra hour over the last few days, and instead of doing overtime I was like “ok, it’s payday and the ‘get your oil changed, bitch’ light has been on for a while, let’s clock out at the 40 hour mark and go do that before it’s time to pick my wife up from work so I don’t have to try to make that happen this weekend”

Which meant not just the actual task of taking the car to the oil change place, but also sheepishly explaining to the folks there that a) I did not have the financial means to be upsold on anything that was not likely to be a life or death issue before tax refunds come in so please don’t bother unless you are literally afraid for my life if I don’t get the additional service, and b) I actually already know about the headlight that’s out and the old-ass air filter but please don’t replace them, I have the replacements in the car and just keep forgetting to install them myself and only remembering about it when I don’t have time or the engine is too hot for me to go feeling around for where the fucking headlight bulb goes

And to add insult to that injury, they finish up and I’m like, oh. Right.

I lost my debit card like 2-3 weeks ago (yay, absolute garbage perception of time) and KNOW it’s on the floor of the car or maybe in my apartment somewhere so I haven’t reported it lost to get a replacement I just need to find it but the car’s a huge mess and I keep always being too tired or busy when I think about it. And also it’s hard to not be underemployed when I don’t have the spoons to look for a better paying job on top of holding down the job I have, and my wife has similar issues, and the cost of living these days, guys, am I right?? And we’ve got a little windfall coming soon that will help us pay off our debts, but crucially. That is still ‘soon’ and hasn’t happened yet. Anyway so the credit card is apparently maxed out from us having to use it to get around not being paid a living wage the last couple of years :))))))) And the “emergency use only because the bill goes to my parents’ house and I don’t want to abuse the privilege of having parents who can afford to and are willing to help financially when I really need it or to keep being a burden on them, and also they WILL judge me if anything unnecessary is on there” card in my wallet is expired and the new one is somewhere in the kitchen (or living room?) mess at home so I can’t use that right now either

So I had to explain in front of the other customers that I just straight up forgot that the only functioning card in my wallet was maxed out and like, stand there while she looked at records to confirm I was a regular client who’d never pulled shit like this before and also put a note on my file so they could like, know about it and refuse service in the future if I didn’t make good on my promise to come back and pay once I pick my wife (and their debit card) up from work in an hour and a half

And the embarrassment of all of that so thoroughly outweighs whatever minuscule satisfaction my brain can derive from “but I got the task done!” that it feels like I didn’t accomplish anything and also like I put myself through a shitty awkward experience for (what feels like) nothing. And it’s that, but with like…. every fucking thing that I have to deal with when I get home from work and I’m tired and my meds have worn off. So I just have to keep powering my way through a wall of experiences telling me “you will have all of the suffering and experience none of the reward, OR you could not bother and do something that does make you feel nice instead because wow fuck that” for EVERY GODDAMN LITTLE THING.

Anyway I love my brain for so many things, but goddamn it would be great if the “positive reinforcement machine broken” issue impaired me as little as ableists seem to think it should

[armandismed]

Other good things which explain why I've been MIA for the past few weeks:

Have been taking French fluency tests for work/ potential other jobs.

Have the opportunity to take financed French workplace fluency training while I continue to look for other jobs.

Will have a pretty solid tax return thanks to "bring forward" amounts from other years: Plan to put parts of it towards paying off my car I bought off a family member (70 percent, yay!), a possible vacation to Austria/Hungary, and savings.

Had performance review.

Being forced because I've worked at least three days of overtime to use three days in the next few months along with my vacation. So get an extra 3 days of paid vacation days free.

Dentistry being set for early May to fix my teeth.

Been attending therapy for intimacy sensitivity training to help open myself to the idea of dating and intimacy.

Sent off a cheque to save my spot for the master's program I have been accepted to as my backup.

Still waiting to find out about my first choice in April, which would be much more ideal because it wouldn't require me to move. Wish me luck!

Will find out about external scholarship I applied for on Monday.

Using the Easter long weekend to catch up on bits and bobs.

[psalacanthea]

yay another chapter of this novel rewrite done. \m/ I think I've decided to rewrite the whole thing, not just the first half. It's going to take longer, but it'll be making an overall more cohesive and meaningful storyline, with no extraneous plot bits because I am a plot-as-I-writer

if you're curious, here's a lil bit of it

The day, and the one after that passed pretty uneventfully, or at least uneventfully for a witch’s apothecary.

Tourists came, tourists left. Sometimes they asked for tarot readings, which Deacon would only do if there was absolutely nothing else he should have been doing. Including napping. Liv saw him read once, and there was absolutely no mystique involved, which had been overtly disappointing to the curious magic fans. He just drew them, read them on the scratched, sticker-papered counter, and then tried to upsell the customer to a t-shirt.

She still couldn’t tell if he actually believed in fortune telling or not.

Liv was just glad to work somewhere where she could tell customers 'no'. On top of satisfying the deep well of spite within her, it meant that bullshit people with bullshit problems could be gatekept from annoying the witch. A job she was good at.

Definitely better than overnights at the gas station with only her demon for company.

Locals came in maybe every couple hours or so, usually with small complaints or to pick up tea or pass on gossip. Proving once again that Deacon was a real witch, he seemed to know the value of local gossip, and gathered every bit of it he could, stepping out around the neighborhood when he wasn't being called elsewhere. He didn't care if the shelves were fully stocked, but Liv was expected to scribble down every passing bit of news. She didn't mind.

Apparently a passing mention of a house missing trash day had saved someone last month. Alone in his home, an elderly neighbor, Mr. Guret, had fallen and broken a hip. By the time anyone else had checked on him, it might’ve been too late. But Deacon had checked immediately, because this was his neighborhood.

That was real witchcraft.

There was pretty much any amount of annoying quirks Liv would forgive of someone like that, so she got over Deacon’s smugness and smelling like tobacco smoke pretty quickly. He was a good guy. No, a good person. A weird person who should probably be trying harder to hide their secrets, but still a good person.

Liv wondered how long he’d been on the Other Side.

Having worked in the Neverland House system during her time in law school, Liv knew all the signs. Addictive personality and knew it. Fake name. And, of course, magic. Being in contact with the fae in any capacity had consequences, and magic was one of them.

Deacon was almost certainly an itnerant, like the changeling baby's mortal twin. Stolen by the fairies. Not something anyone would ever want to talk about, so Liv had no intention of ever asking any of her questions of him.

No one escaped from the fae unscathed.

Not even bystanders.

If she was around, Deacon fed her, which was impetus to max out her hours. Liv was getting paid on top of that, so when he didn't tell her to leave after 8 hours she just kept sticking around. It was just as boring at home. This way she read more and watched less television, which meant that Berith bitched at her less. He hated her taste in TV.

So Liv hung out, read thrift store paperbacks, and was occasionally interrupted by customers.

Sadly, the hours weren't endless, or at least the money to pay overtime didn't exist, so she definitely still had to keep her other job. At least not paying for her own food for half the week was cheaper. Maybe she could get some new clothes.

Shit, she really was poor poor, not just slightly inconvenienced middle class.

Unhappy with that revelation, Liv gave a long groan and dropped her book on the counter, forehead resting on her arm as she slumped. Ugh, she was poor. The thing that meant she was proving Mom right!

Great.

“Liv?”

“I'm a failure who ruined her life!”

Deacon took the pickle from the neglected remains of her lunch, wrapper rustling. “I want to be supportive, but you did do a felony.” He crunched.

A groan-whine escaped her, and she turned her book over in her hand, dropping it on top of her head. “Bury me in the sewer.”

“I draw the line at dumping bodies for you.”

[caeliflammae]

yay i love working a 12 hour shift 😍 i love working an almost 60 hour week 😍 i love not getting paid for overtime 😍 i love making 12 dollars an hour 😍 i love being overworked and underpaid and 😍 i love being expected to do even more just to have people even think about giving me a single dollar raise 😍

[themirokai]

Vent post:

I spent all evening working overtime (but, like, salaried so I don’t get paid extra) instead of posting my fic. So bummed.

But my boss told me that I’m “crushing it this week” so… yay. 🙄

[shuuen-no-cimory]

So, long short story:

My HDD broke around 2 weeks ago, glad I backed up everything from my old HDD but yea practically I almost can’t do any work

Big s t r e s s o

So I draw some Skirmishers to calm myself down

 I always says how much I want to sleep on Hydrogunner’s stomach because it’s gonna be so soft and relaxing, so I did draw it! A very good kind-of vent art honestly

I just realize how much resamblance Fatui Mirror Maiden has with Rider Medusa (FSN) AND I REMMEBER INSTANTLY LOVE BOTH OF THEM. So I must draw them together

Summer! Beach! ‘But it’s autumn?’, pssssh, if Kama-chan can make a Summer Event in FGO on Autumn so who cares~? So yup! Here’s the boys on their summer outfit....! Or at least Pyro that is wwwww

I met up with my and my brother’s friends from campus, most of them are those already become part of workforce and only a few of us (including me) are those on their last senior year at campus. We shared stories, and that makes me wanna draw Geochanter as salary man wwwwww Also here’s translation for each notes (from left to right) *Work ain't for passion but to clear up house credit *His third glass of coffee *Got his overtime paid only if his boss remembers to *Work for 7 hrs/day with under-minimum payment *Sleep right away once he gets home *Taking his bosses tasks

And now, new HDD yay! but no scanner driver yet so can’t scan and color them up, aside from having to nyooming the progress with my works. So here has some sketches!

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

MAAAAA!!!! I didn't get any notifs from you for a long while then suddenly bling bling bling bling in the last few days, and I was like "yay!" but didn't get around to popping in until now lol

Man, a lot has changed for me since I last came by. I got a new job! A construction job, which I'm so happy about! I'm still pretty early in (only a few weeks), but seriously, every time I have an issue at work, or have a moment when I would normally debate, "maybe this job isn't for me..." I just- don't. I seriously think this is the job I've been waiting for. My supervisors are so nice. The safety lady cares about everyone, for real (she let me take a mental health day off. I have never had that or seen that actually happen before). Also, she has ADHD, and understands autism, which is so lucky for me! My site supervisor is also awesome. We had it the one day that a few of us had to stay a bit late cuz the truckers delivering our stuff came late (which was not supposed to happen. Very annoying). My supervisor not only helped us finish, he apologized to each of us for having to stay late, immediately made some calls to make sure it wouldn't happen again, and paid us extra overtime! The other workers are all so awesome too. We have lots of laughs.

It's working outside (I live in Canada... so it's cold af...), but it's building a solar farm, which is cool! I get weekends off, and am getting paid pretty well too. I might get to operate some machines (which is what I went to school for, and is kinda my dream job atm), which will be awesome. I'm just- so happy with this job. :,)

I'm so glad you (and yer kiddos) are starting to feel better, Ma! I missed you and the other anons so much!

- Dragon anon

Ahhh Dragon anon 🥹 I missed you so much!!!

Ahhh that’s so awesome!! Congrats on your new job and I’m so happy to hear that they are awesome to work for/with! It’s such a relief when you have people who understand you and can help ease the issues you are having!!

Ugh Canada is so cold! I live in Minnesota so I understand the cold and let me tell you, those of you who work in the cold deserve everything! And honestly operating machinery sounds both exciting and mildly terrifying 😂

I’m glad too! Things are finally starting to turn around here and I’m so glad!

[emilx311]

Life Update

Hey all, so I pretty much vanished off the internet for the past few months (whoops sorry about that) but things have been crazy irl! Here’s a bit of a summary for those who were wondering what happened to me:

So, for context sake a few fun facts about me. I work as a night auditor at a hotel and have done so since August 2019, I graduated Uni with a degree in Justice Studies in 2018, and I have several minor but chronic health issues that lead to me being very low energy-ie having less spoons than a normal person and needing more sleep.

Aside from the issues already inherent with 2020′s....everything we had several more personal issues at my (I say my because I work there) motel. Mainly around staffing, and especially around night audit staffing.

Since I was hired we’ve gone through 5 or 6 other night auditors (I think? maybe more). And they often.....quit with barely any notice. So, being our only consistent night auditor I’ve been called in last minute several times over the past year leading to 6 or even 7 day weeks. (Not Fun!)

Even when we have had another trained night auditor with us they often also do day shifts since we only need them for 2 nights a week. Turn over for day-shift people has been barely lower than turn over for night shift, which has led to them having to be called in last minute to cover day shifts when people left which means I also had to be called in last minute to cover the night shifts they were no longer able to do, leading to us all working 6 or even 7 day weeks (Super Not Fun!)

In summary: I’ve worked more overtime days than I have had vacation days in this last year. Heck, the last time I tried to go on vacation for like 5 days I got called in every other day and my boss (our regional manager) paid me double for the shifts I worked and refused to touch my vacation pay because even he acknowledged that was in no way a real vacation at that point (this was at the beginning of September btw...)

This was all compounded when our general manager (gm) left in late July. Her reason for leaving was super fair since she got a better job offer, similar pay to what she was making, less work since she would no longer have to do all the duties our boss should have been doing but was instead pushing off unto her. Super sad to see her go but wished her the best (still miss her) :(

This left our under manager (gsm) and me as the main people in the hotel (ie those who have been there the longest, only the gsm and housekeepers had been there longer than I had at that point-and I had not even reached my 1 year yet). Which, not super great, but the other people we had were okay so we would manage. So the gsm and I held things together and started basically running the hotel (shout out to the gsm here because I love her and she is actually like 5 years younger than me but has accomplished so much more, I am in constant awe of her tbh). Our boss (who is....kind of dumb sometimes) realized this. We became his golden girls (he plays favorites hard).

It is at that point that someone above our boss’s level in the company (he’s in charge locally, but we do belong to a large corporation, ah capitalism) hired disaster #1 as our first new gm. Disaster #1 was creepily cheerful and utterly dismayed to find out his job actually involved him doing work! Like working at the front desk during his shifts and doing manager stuff instead of it just being him sitting in the back looking important and giving us encouragement occasionally. He payed no attention to his training. He did very little of his basic work let alone the manager stuff. He took credit and praised “the team” whenever something went right and pushed blame off him unto everyone else as hard as he could when something went wrong (I once pointed out he forgot to do something and he legit said to me “can you prove it was me?” I said “yes” very firmly.)

Now, as the auditor my job is to spot, point out, and fix errors. He hated coming in to to work after me because I spotted and pointed out everything he missed or did incorrectly. At first just because I happened to notice them. Then it became personal, he cornered me one morning at shift change and told me that he dreaded coming in to work after me because I was always so critical, and he had so much to do during his shifts other than just front desk stuff (he did not, most of the “manager” stuff he was even trained in doing at this point he shoved off unto the gsm) he then disparaged the gsm. I was done, I was pissed (you do not say mean things about my gsm, nope, not okay, I will cut and slab you*) and kind of hurt (why are you taking my corrections as personal attacks? Why are you saying I’m mean for doing my job?) So, if he wanted to make it personal I decided to make it personal and made it my mission to find and point out everything he did wrong, no more overlooking small things as I had been. The pressure of actually having to work made him quit (shocking, not!).

It was also around this time that I signed up for an LSAT prep course. Because I hate myself and now that I’ve been working for a couple years and have some money saved up I want to follow through on my plan to get either a Law Degree or a Masters Degree and so am working on taking the LSAT and applying to law schools. No, studying has not been going well, time and energy have also been preventing that.

Fast forward a couple months and 2 of our best employees went on holiday (one they had scheduled months before). It’s the start of January, they will be gone for two months. In that time our boss had hired our next gm, idiot #2. Just as these two leave the other front desk person we’d been training quits with no notice. We are short staffed....again (yay more 6 and 7 day weeks, ack). To fill in this gap our boss brings in idiot #3 from one of the other 2 hotels in the area our company owns.

Idiot #2 is semi okay, he is not manager material, even months after he was hired to be gm he does not have the training and is basically just a front desk agent. He is bad about doing things himself unless you specifically direct him to with very clear instructions, but he can do the minimum (although he failed the coffee test. After idiot #1 I wrote out very, VERY specific instructions for how to clean our coffee station....he is not able to follow them. The gsm and I joked about the coffee test after I first wrote the instructions, that someone actually failed it....we despair). So, he does not think ahead, do any extra, or solve many problems but at least he rarely creates problems.

This brings us to idiot #3. I do not know what goes on in his head (very little likely) but man oh man. Some examples: the time he-after being asked like 4 times-actually sign off on the checklist after cleaning the laundry room (as everyone is supposed to once a shift) but did so in sharpie instead of one of the many dry-erase markers left around the front desk for no other reason than the clearly laminated sign off sheet. Or the time he decided on his own to give someone a satisfaction refund, far larger than it should have been (which only managers and those with special permission can do in any of the hotels, so he should know better but somehow....)

We have a book for front desk to write messages on about issues for the next people. Usually we have a note or two on any given day. Pretty much every day he worked it was full and even going onto the next page. Idk how, it’s like he touched something and issues sprung up. and Guess who got to be the one to fix all of them (woooo).

For the past few weeks I have had 2 days a week where the only people who worked were me and idiots #2 and #3. It’s been horrible. In addition, my days off were changed for these months so I haven’t been able to meet my one bubble inclusive friend to vent like we usually do once a week, because that time no longer fit in my schedule. I have been living in exhaustive hell for the past couple months, and even before that as I tried to lighten the gsm’s load as much as I could as she took on a lot of the gm stuff. My house is a mess, tbh my life is a mess because work has left me so tired and stressed that I basically get home, shower, collapse onto bed, read a bit, sleep, wake-up, find some sort of food, get ready for work, go to work, and repeat. Even on my days off I’m sleeping 75% of the time and resting to try and shore up my spoons (of which I already have fewer than most people) to get through the work week.

tl;dr Due to ridiculousness I ended up unofficially co-running a hotel and it’s sucked up so much of my energy that all my free time is pretty much spent sleeping just to ensure I’m able to get through my work weeks semi-functionally. Everything about my life has been a mess, to the point where I’m legit not sure how I’ve been keeping myself fed, clean, on meds and just generally....alive.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Bliss

I feel like there’s been a slight uptick in the amount of Snafu content being produced (YAY) and I got inspired. This is just a smutty little one-shot look into what it might be like to be married to Merriell “Snafu” Shelton. Hint: see title : )

Warnings: Smut, so 18+, please!

 “Hey, baby girl. How was ya day?” your Cajun husband greeted from his perch on the stool in your kitchen, a grocery list and a cookbook spread out on the island in front of him.

 “It was good—same old, same old. I’m gonna head back and take a shower. What do you want for dinner?” you asked as you peeked over his shoulder, squinting to try to figure out what was scrawled on the list.

 “It’s already warmin’ in the oven for ya.”

 You smiled and kissed Merriell’s temple, whispering in his ear, “What did I do to deserve you?”

 Merriell chuckled, “I gotta make sure one of dem sailors don’t make off with ya. Need to give ya a good reason to come home only to me.”

 You reached out and took his chin in your hand, his dazzling green eyes meeting yours.

 “Wild horses couldn’t drag me away from you,” you replied, kissing his lips softly before making your way down the hall to the bathroom.

 After putting your hair up in a bun and throwing on a shower cap, you let the hot water work its magic, relaxing your muscles and washing away the day’s labor. You liked working for the Port of New Orleans as a secretary; it paid better than most secretarial jobs, but it did get monotonous.

 When you opened the shower door, the steam followed you out, filling the modest bathroom. You wrapped a towel around your body and went to the sink and swiped at the mirror to make sure you had removed the day’s makeup. Merriell loved you made up. Merriell loved you barefaced. He just loved . . . you.

 You took your hair down and shook it out of its bun, letting it hang loose.

 When you exited into the bedroom, Merriell was laying on the bed, propped up, eyes closed, shirt off, of course. He had been working overtime at the lumber yard for the past few weeks, so when the day turned stormy and the sky opened up, he took the opportunity to come home a little early. He could’ve went out gambling, or drank and smoked his free time away, but instead, he cooked for you and had put away the clean laundry that had been threatening to overtake the bench at the foot of your bed.

 When you entered the bedroom clad only in a towel, Merriell peeked one eye open before closing it again.

 “Come over here,” he said in a husky voice.

You knew that tone, and his voice went straight to the juncture of your thighs. It had been awhile since you’d had the time or the energy for sex. Sometimes, life just got in the way, even for your little sex-god.

 Playing along, you dropped your towel, making sure it made an audible plop when it hit the floor. Merriell grinned, a lazy but predatory smile.

 You walked to the edge of the bed, just within Mer’s reach, and it surprised you when he didn’t take advantage of your exposed skin.

 He kept his eyes closed and began talking, in that same husky tone.

 “Sometimes, baby girl, I just can’t get you outta my mind. I think about the way you smell, like lavenda’ and vanilla, so sweet, and I think about the way you smile, lookin’ at me with those beautiful eyes as they tighten up in the corners. You always smile with ya eyes, Y/N, and I love that.

 You listened intently, your emotions swirling in a weird combination of amusement, love, and arousal. Merriell opened his eyes and locked them on yours; you knew what was coming next, and your breathing picked up a little bit.

 “And sometimes, I can’t stop thinkin’ about fuckin’ ya, legs in the air, body spread out in front of me so I can see everythin’.

 Arousal flooded your body—between that look and those words, you knew you wanted whatever Merriell had spent the afternoon thinking about because you knew it would be so, so good.

 “Would ya like that, baby girl?”

 You fixed Merriell with a seductive gaze before whispering in a low voice, “Yes.”

 Merriell sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up and wrapped his arms around your body, running his hands over your ass, your back, your arms, and into your hair.

 “Smell so sweet,” he mumbled as he inhaled before kissing down the side of your face and to your lips. He nibbled and sucked on your lips before dipping his tongue into your mouth. When Merriell kissed you like this, you wanted to melt into him, become so pliant that every touch would feel like the first touch again and again.

 “Lay back on the bed, darlin’.”

 You climbed up and lay back, your legs dangling over the side. Merriell looked down at you and ran his hand down your middle, from neck to lower abdomen.

Merriell moved even further in-between your legs, spreading them a little wider. He reached up and pushed your arms above your head.

 “You best hold on ta somethin’.”

 You could feel the wetness increase between your thighs, Mer’s words flowing through your body.

 Merriell knew the effect he was having on you, and he was amazingly restrained with his touch. He lightly ghosted his fingertips over every inch of your naked body, forehead to toes, not missing a single spot except where you were dying for him to touch. He casually avoided your aching core, smirking when you let out a small whimper of frustration.

 Instead of touching you, he pulled your wet heat directly to his pants front. You could feel his hard cock through his pants and used your leverage of the edge of the bed to push yourself into him, grinding a little to get some relief, and Merriell didn’t stop you. Instead, he grasped your hips and pushed you further into him, thrusting forward just a little.

 “Do ya want me, baby girl? Do ya want me to spread your legs and fuck ya until you come all over ma’ cock?”

 “Fucking, YES, Merriell! Please, please fuck me,” you said wiggling into him, the friction just not enough to do anything other than get you even more stimulated.

 Merriell stepped back, unbuckled his belt, and undid his pants. He slipped out of them and then his underwear. He was already barefoot, as usual.

 Because he was such a shit, he bent down and licked a single stripe up your soaking pussy, pausing only for a moment to flick his tongue up and over your clit.

 You growled, low and deep, and Merriell chuckled.

 He licked his lips, clearly savoring the taste of you and you pushed your hips further off the edge of the bed, seeking his cock.

 Merriell hooked one of your legs under the knee and positioned the other leg on his shoulder. He used his free hand to line up his cock with your entrance, swirling his tip in your wetness, dipping in just a little until he was slick.

 He thrust into you, hard enough to scoot you back on the bed, and you swore, crying out from sheer relief of being filled.

 “Mmm,” Merriell hummed, pulling his lower lip between his teeth and closing his eyes for the first few thrusts. “Mmm, mmm, mmm.”

You were gripping the edge of the bed, enjoying how deep Merriell could get at this position, when he turned his head to kiss the arch of your foot. Then, he moved your leg from his shoulder and said, “Straighten your legs, baby girl. Spread them for me.”

 You looked up and watched as you straightened your legs and spread them out in a perfect V, toes pointed. It looked sexy as fuck, watching Mer thrusting slowly between your legs. Then, he moved your legs even further apart, his arms spreading as wide as they could to hold your legs in position.

 The friction caused by Mer’s cock was nothing short of divine. Being so spread open, so bared for him excited you, your nipples impossibly hard despite his lack of attention to them. You continued to grasp the edge of the bed, pushing back into Merriell’s thrusts.

 Merriell’s face was the perfect picture of aroused bliss; his eyes were open, locked on watching his cock disappear into your body.

 “So fuckin’ hot, baby girl. You should see how sexy ya look.”

 You groaned, his voice again washing over you, again exciting you impossibly more. Mer’s cock just felt so goddamn good like this.

 Merriell picked up his pace, your breasts bouncing with every thrust. His chest broke out in a light sheen of sweat, his pecs flexing as he moved his grip on your legs, spreading you just a little bit wider.

 Your orgasm took you by surprise with a simple shift of Mer’s hips as he leaned in, just a little, over you. You clutched and clawed at the edge of the bed, your back arching up and your eyes rolling back as you moaned and panted Merriell’s name.

 “Fuck, Y/N, fuck!” Mer cursed, unable to last between watching your intense orgasm as it washed over your body and watching as his cock thrust so perfectly into your pussy.

 He came, cursing in English and French, your name littered amongst the profanity as he buried his length in you, his come filling you up until it slowly leaked out from around his spent cock.

 Merriell bent your legs and they trembled a bit with relief as you rested them on the edge of the bed.

 Merriell slid out of you, reaching under you to push you back a little on the bed. He crawled in beside you, laying half on top of you as he kissed your face and neck. You brought up a hand to twist in his curls, enjoying the feeling of his sweaty hair as he laid his head on your chest to catch his breath.

 “Mer.”

 “Hmm.”

 “I’m starving.”

 Merriell laughed softly into your skin, pressing a sweet kiss to it before lifting his head.

 “I love ya’ baby girl.”

 “I love you, too, Merriell Shelton. Now feed me.”

 Laughing, the two of you put on just enough clothes to not be mortified if there were a fire and headed into the kitchen, hand in hand, the very picture of bliss.

[ohcoolnice]

Late

It’s a full story, I swear it’s just...I can’t figure out a title so we’re gonna just title each chapter. Also, each chapter’s title may seem like it connects to an insignificant detail, but it has deeper meaning. I’m known for my especially angsty works. MWAHAHAHAHA. 

SUMMARY: 

Marinette seriously just cannot afford mistakes, so, naturally, there are so, so, so many. First, four of their models call in sick, thanks to the lovely flu going around, meaning they don’t have anyone to model for most of their women’s pieces. Then, Adrien’s bright idea to have Marinette model her own pieces gets approved by Gabriel, and, obviously, it all backfires spectacularly-on him.***This is set in the future, The character’s are 19 and 20-ish. it’s all messed up tho bc i can’t figure out timelines so whatever. 

(THIS  CHAPTER IS A BIT BAcKSTORY, But also plot yay :) 

-----

Marinette could not afford to have anything go wrong today.

The new Gabriel HERO™ Collection was going to launch in two days, and with the delay she’d experienced last week with the fit models, she’d only gotten Gabriel’s approval on the final designs three days ago, stayed up all night to do the flats and came in the next day, sleep deprived and sure she’d have a heart attack with the amount of caffeine she’d consumed.

The department had been a great help. Ellie had agreed to touch up some small errors Marinette had made will working on the flats at four in the morning, enlisting Jonah, who was a wizard with Illustrator, to help her.

Samantha was great with construction, she knew every single stitch, and Marinette was sure she’d invented at least twenty of her own. She could work fast without making any errors, all the while making the rounds and helping anyone and everyone.

Marinette oversaw everything. Technically, on paper, she was an Intern. But she had been working with Gabriel for three years now, and not even out of Fashion School yet. At seventeen she’d begun interning, still surprised she’d got it, though she suspected guiltily that Adrien Agreste may have had some influence over the matter once he’d congratulated her when she’d never told him in the first place. They barely even spoke. Every so often she had nights where she felt so bad, maybe taking some other more talented girl’s spot only because she had gone to school with the designer’s son, that she would cry and sob until she passed out from exhaustion. It didn’t help she heard it often.

She learned to ignore comments and overtime the public perception of her grew more positive as people began to see her designs once Gabriel became her Mentor and put her in charge of design for several collections. She knew people knew her name as she often accompanied Gabriel to shows, taking notes on the pieces but also making notes on every work that came from Gabriel’s mouth, but she didn’t want to be too known. Even in fashion school, most of her classmates, obsessed with knowing everything about the fashion world, didn’t know who she was, just that she interned with Gabriel, perhaps. Marinette liked it that way. She wasn’t a big fan of too much attention. She preferred if she could wait until she graduated to make a name for herself.

Gabriel had admitted, in an awkward moment once two years ago, that he wasn’t overly sure as to why he decided to become a mentor to the baker’s daughter, but he remarked on the similarities he saw in his younger self and her.

She didn’t really believe him. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him smile, not once, even when she knew he was kind of proud of the work she was doing. Over the years she’d come to notice it wasn’t hard to read his expressions- okay, it was hard, just not impossible- once you’d spent enough time studying him. And Marinette took note of everything he did. Alya often wondered aloud how the designer wasn’t creeped out by her.

Marinette didn’t know how she could possibly be like Gabriel. He showed no emotion on most occasion, but she was the complete opposite. Another reason why the media often wondered what it was he saw in a seventeen-year-old intern. He knew her designing and construction skills from the competition she’d won three years prior, but that was really all he’d seen up until her portfolio, which she’d snuck onto one night before the leaving on what was supposed to be the last day of her internship. The eight days after that where she’d heard nothing had been the most depressing days of her life. Then she’d gotten a call from Nathalie, Gabriel’s assistant, asking her to come in, and she almost passed out. She’d cried so hard after that Alya had thought Marinette’s parents had died. Sometimes she wondered how Alya came up with the conclusions she did.

Everything afterwards hadn’t been smooth sailing, but it was all incredible. Every stressful task was worth it. She was being paid as an intern, since there weren’t technically any positions available at the time. There since had been some, but she didn’t dare ask for a raise. She liked being able to do everything without being confined to the title of “designer” or “dressmaker” or whatnot. She liked doing all of it. The customer service, the finances in accounting (she was terrible at it, but overly grateful), and obviously out of everything, the hands-on fashion was her favorite, but she was getting to experience working in every single aspect of one of the most successful Fashion Companies in the entire world, under the tutelage of Gabriel Agreste himself. She really didn’t think she deserved to be that lucky.

Of course, there were times where she’d broken down at two in the morning, struggling to finish an assignment while balancing school as well. Gabriel had the sort of connections where she was able to miss classes and take them at home thanks to a recording of the class, and while she utilized it, she didn’t really prefer it. She liked being in the class and learning hands on, in an environment electrified by the excitement of young adults itching to get out there and create art. She also knew she did tend to do the work for Gabriel before her studies, and it often resulted in stress and a rush the complete assignments and projects.

If she’d ever felt stress before, it was nothing in relation to the stress of the last two years. And even that was nothing in comparison to the stress of being late to a photo shoot that needed to be perfect because the entire goddamn collection would be public in two days and if she wasn’t ready, no amount of fondness Gabriel had come to feel for the girl would be able to save her job. This was a HUGE deal.

Her car pulled into her spot and she grabbed her things and breakfast for the crew. Next to her, Alya, who had taken the day off to help her best friend, took the trays and boxes from her hand and pushed her towards the entrance. “You’re already late girl, get out of here!”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She pressed her hands together, blessing her friend for being so helpful, before rushing inside, hands full with the last pieces she’d finished last night before, thankfully, getting a good night’s sleep. She was glad the people from Vogue wouldn’t have to see her when she looked as if she’d been attacked by a bear and hit by a train. She didn’t want to wear makeup and risk the chance of feeling anything uncomfortable enough to distract her from her work.

She struggled with the door, grateful when she saw a glimpse of Adrien walking past inside from behind the garment bags covering her view. She knocked on the glass and the door opened a few seconds later.

“Thank ymph.” Her voice muffled behind the garment bags were met with a chuckle from Adrien as she felt the weight in her arms lessen a bit.

“Let me help you, Marinette, you look like you’ve got your hands full.” She gave him a blank look.

“That wasn’t even good. I don’t even know if that can be counted as a pun.” They were almost at the dressing station now, people rushed about, voices mixing as people rushed to prepare the stations and models. Chloe Bourgeois was the only superhero who had shared her identity, so, unfortunately, she would be modeling for the Queen Bee themed women’s pieces. Thankfully that was not until later.

“It can so be counted as a pun. But I’ll spare you because you’re so busy today. I’ll just have to write down my puns and attack you with them later.” She laughed softly, shaking her head as she gently let the bags rest on a table, hanging them up one by one as she took them out of the bags. Adrien’s eyes widened. “Oh wow. These are incredible Marinette. This is- wow.” He looked at her, his eyes sparking with…admiration? She wasn’t sure, but either way she didn’t understand his reaction. She was proud of her work, yes, but she hadn’t expected Adrien of all people to be so impressed by them.

“Thank you.” She replied, ducking her head to hide her blush. No, she had work to do. Focus, Marinette.

“So y-” She shushed him, placing a finger to his lips as he widened his eyes, face warming as he stared, cross-eyed at the finger on his lips.

“Nope, no talking. Let’s go, Hair and Makeup Chat Noir.” His face paled and he stammered and she raised a brow. “Adrien! Your father wants you as Chat Noir, so please don’t make me tell him you can’t do it and we have to find someone else because we really don’t have the time and I really don’t want to have that conversation with him.” He seemed to relax ever so slightly, the color returning to his face. Odd.

“Yeah, sorry, sure. I’ll go be Pat- I mean Chat!” He huffed in frustration and dragged a hand over his face tiredly, emerging with a weak smile that, despite getting over her crush ages ago, still sent her stomach into a frenzy. She pushed down the feeling and giggled. “Sorry, I’m tired.”

“We all are don’t worry. You’re just lucky it doesn’t show because this only can be done today. Now go before I kill you because I am very busy.” She scolded him and pushed him off as he tried to speak, hitting him with the papers in her hand. He laughed and stumbled out, turning to watch her walk back to her station, lost in her work, with a smile on his face.

As he turned to make his way to Hair and Makeup, he narrowly dogged Alya and she ran her way to Marinette, calling, “Hey, Blondie!” as she ran past.

“Who am I to you, Rapunzel?” He called back, eyes following her and landing back on Marinette, smiling with relief as her best friend arrived with food for the crew and Marinette’s purse. 

She’d really seemed to come into her own skin these last few years. For at least three years it was so hard for them to hang out. She was so awkward and stumbled over her words around him. Slowly it began to change and improve, and he found himself spending more time with her and his own mood began to improve as he did. He’d spent lots of time with her before, wearing the mask. He would steal her food and they would talk, laugh, play video games, board games. He loved watching her design and sketch. It was peaceful for him, hanging out with her as Chat Noir. It never was as Adrien. It bore down on him, kept him awake at night, not that he realized that until things changed, and he found himself able to hang out with her both in and out of costume. He realized how awful it was when he wasn’t sure if Marinette hated him or not. She was so different with him in his different personalities that he’d worried about it constantly, without even knowing it. It was all so confusing.

Looking at Marinette now, he felt a smile tug at his lips and a flutter in his heart.

She really was special. He couldn’t ask for a better friend.

[keto-kitty]

I am not doing great this year

I was back on keto after Christmas and then I ran out of money. Yay! There was no overtime at work so we were all on the standard 16 hours which at minimum wage is not a lot, so I was living off the free food from work which I'm sure everyone can guess was the complete opposite of keto-friendly.

But, I seem to now be getting some extra hours, and I'm getting paid from my second job some time soon so I can actually now afford to eat! Yay! I feel awful, I've been to see my parents and while my mum's cooking is very nice (although sometimes somewhat experimental, we got savoury bread pudding with ham for dinner today) it doesn't half give me digestive issues. So I've been doing a bit of research in to a carnivorous diet and decided that's what I'm going to do for a couple of weeks. I figure if I restrict what I eat to only a few things, I'm not going to have issues deciding what to eat and it's going to be really simple to stick to.

Tonight I'm eating malt loaf in the bath before I clamber in to my new PJs and my gloriously empty bed which I have to myself for the first time in forever, and tomorrow we're doing a lot of tidying before my partner comes home and screams at me and eating a lot of sausages!

[ghostlycroissantpainterdrea-blog]

My work is really accommodating. I was recently asked by my Church Choir director, to become a choir Intern. It's two days a week, for 4ish hours, salaried.

Which, yay. I get paid to sing. So, I told my boss, I would love to be in the Center on Wednesdays, see my friends who's main location is the center, but also be able to go to choir practice, at church on Wednesdays. I told my boss, I was asked to be an intern for our Choir. And it was a really big deal to me, because this is my high school competitive choir coach who is our choir director, I was never asked in HS to do solo's or be part of the 1st class choir team. So, for me it felt like a really big honor for her to ask me, especially since my range changed so significantly, and I would be getting paid to do it.

My boss said "Oh, my goodness Lorna. I know that is a really big deal for you, and you're so excited. We can absolutely have you work in the Center on Wednesdays, that our small drive days, and most people want Wednesdays off anyway."

Friday, she went to my director, whom I also adore. And said "Problem solved Lorna wants Wednesdays at the center."

I didn't even know that it was a staffing problem. But apparently there are only two drives on Wednesdays that are always historically low turn out. And the mobile units only need three phlebs for those. And the center only needs 3 total whole blood phlebs. No one wanted to stay at the Center for those days, because of how deadly slow it is.

And everyone wants Wednesdays off. For some reason. They also, asked if I wanted to continue just to work on Saturdays twice a month and have the following in Monday off. I said "Either Proceeding or following. Doesn't matter to me. I just need two Saturdays off a month, that I can rely on for social stuff and to get my hair cut. My normal Salon is closed on Mondays and I don't trust anyone else to cut my hair."

I got a compliment for being really flexible. And how most people who come to work there aren't so flexible. I said "Well, they've never been salaried, and weren't allowed to say no to their boss. I don't mind picking up extra hours at all, especially if I'm getting the overtime. It's not gonna bother me one bit. What would bother me is if I went to salaried and had to work 60+ hours a week and be on call."

There are a lot of people at the company who, really don't appreciate how good they have it. Now, don't get me wrong there are some really dumb policies we have. And the pay is shitty. But, at least they don't have the stress of having to plan out people's lives, deal with their boss's personal vendettas for clients, and all the investigations with the state, on top of shit pay, drama and stupid policies.

When, I was a manager I was always super lenient with absences. I would work with you, and I didn't have to. I was lenient with tardies too, especially if you had kids and were coming from a different county to work.

Those staff just took that for granted. My boss is real lenient with tardies which I appreciate. I mean, greatly. It is an adjustment for me, to transition to be on the floor staff, and not a manager who gets to roll in to whatever shift they want. But, the real kicker is the not on call part. I love that. And I don't have to have my email set up to my phone either.

I love what I do. I love my company and believe in their mission. There is some bullshit with working for them. But, it's everywhere. My coworkers love me, and I get to work with a primarily male team, which is great because, I tend to exude the masculine energy. Which, most cisgender conservative straight women hate. But, I was blessed to have such an amazing team.

[sheslegit-archive]

// I’m going to be taking about a ten day hiatus from being on the dash. Nothing is wrong or anything. I just have a really busy work week ahead of me (getting paid overtime though so yay for that). I’m not sure how tired I’ll be when I get home or if I’m going to have any motivation to want to be on dash. Plus a small break from worrying about replies does sound rather nice. If I do have muse then any replies will be drafted until the hiatus is over. In the mean time, I can do some text threads or smaller length threads over discord since those can be a lot easier. Austin #4258