#would get a termination notice by the end of the hr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anyroads · 28 days ago

Text

I was gonna put this in the tags but fuck it, story time:

I had this job at a non-profit over ten years ago. I was hired to manage their comms, which wasn't my ideal career path, but I was coming out of chronic illness and believed in this org's work. I moved across the country for the job and planned to be there for at least two years but ended up quitting after less than a year. Not only did they violate my work agreement over and over, they also violated several state and federal labor laws. If that wasn't bad enough, the CEO was horribly abusive and I often spent part of my day cleaning up co-workers' tears in the bathroom because they were treated so badly. I've worked in some awful places with awful people, but this was by far the worst. It wasn't just the CEO, either - he encouraged mistreatment and awful behavior in the rest of the senior staff, who were only too happy to oblige.

Then came time for my six month evaluation, which wasn't actually scheduled until about nine or ten months in so it was really late. My department head (reader, we were a two person department and I was more qualified but she had been there slightly longer, which is the only reason she was the department head) spent the whole evaluation berating and demeaning me. For context, I was hired to manage the org's comms: beef up social media presence, manage the website's backend, support and help create marketing campaigns etc., and also be the on-staff photographer. What my job actually consisted of was 90% managing the database which was so outdated the company who made it no longer existed and the other company who bought them one out no longer had anyone on staff who could offer tech support. Most of my evaluation was getting yelled at for not being able to make this garbage software work when it wasn't even in my work agreement that I would have to do database management. I was threatened with job termination, but I had spent enough time mopping up the panicked tears of coworkers to know that this was a bluff to avoid me asking for a raise (one co-worker hadn't been good enough for a promotion she earned but was somehow qualified to cover for her boss's maternity leave, another was fired on a Friday and offered a higher job Monday without a raise after having the weekend to panic about being unemployed within two weeks, etc). I felt especially sure of myself since I had found time to fulfill all my other responsibilities despite all the database bullshit and had streamlined several processes so that tasks that took my predecessor whole days to complete took me only an hour (templates!).

After this blood boiling meeting the CEO, who barely ever gave me the time of day, took me into an empty office where he proceeded to talk at me for 45 minutes. He had a habit of putting his feet up on tables when he talked (and he liked talking. On my first day he wanted to have lunch to get to know me and went on an hour long rant where I couldn't get a word in edgewise and eventually hoped he would forget to breathe and pass out but alas, he was well practiced). With the setup of this particular office, since the desk faced wall, this meant he had his back to me the whole time he was talking. About five minutes in I took out my phone and started looking for jobs; he didn't even notice. A week later I took a sick day so I could take a job interview call from home; my dept. head emailed me a request halfway through the day and set the deadline for a task at 9am Monday. When I didn't reply to it until Monday morning, she threatened me again with termination.

Reader, you will not believe the surprise on her face when I insisted that an HR rep be at our next meeting. It was almost as stunned as when said rep affirmed to her that since I was threatened with termination HR must be present at all meetings discussing my performance. She also reiterated what the state labor board had already done so when I followed up with them: that it's illegal to threaten an employee with negative repercussions, let alone job termination, for not working during a day off, and especially since I had my auto-reply on and my dept. head should have received my "sorry I'm out sick will get back to you Monday" message, she should have known better.

I did get the job I interviewed for, by the way. And I did quit. However, unlike my dept. head, I looked over my work agreement first to make sure I didn't overstep, and sure enough there was no notice period stipulated. So.

Tee hee hee.

I had a standing weekly meeting with my dept. head to go over ongoing projects and tasks. I did not schedule a separate meeting with her. I walked into our weekly meeting and told her we will not be discussing our usual agenda. I watched her jaw literally drop as I listed her labor and ethics violations and stated very clearly that despite the commitment I'd had to this job and this org, I was quitting, that it was directly because of her appalling conduct and violations of my work agreement, and that my last day would be the end of the week (this was a Wednesday). She tried to hold over my head that "it might come off as aggressive to everyone else in the office to quit with such short notice" to which I replied that it was quite aggressive of her to threaten to fire me without giving me any prior warnings and opportunities to improve where she found fault with my work. In the end she begged for me to stay on for two more weeks; I agreed to one week because I had a planned vacation starting after that and already had flights booked, which I wasn't going to change for her nonsense. I'm petty and salty and it was delightful to see her go from trying to strongarm me to realizing she had no cards to play and resort to pleading for me not to jump ship overnight.

Not one person in that office faulted me. The senior staff were scared I would sue and were suddenly all sweetness and politness, except the CEO who outright shunned me and didn't speak a word to me or so much as look at me after that. Everyone else was excited for me that I was getting out (several of them had, over my time there, made the effort to let me know that my predecessor had been treated much better while doing shoddier work and that there was some sexism afoot, and felt for me because of how hard I'd worked only to be berated). At my last staff meeting, the CFO made a speech about how "we're all family here" and how I would be sorely missed because I had contributed so much. When it came time for me to reply, I looked her in the eye for an uncomfortably long time until she was visibly nervous and uncomfortable, and then said simply, "perhaps if you'd said as much earlier I might not be leaving" and left it at that. On my last day, after clearing out my desk, I took all my files off the shared drive and changed the language setting on my computer to Hungarian, so my dept. head couldn't access my work and had to start from scratch.

They learned nothing, by the way. Within the next couple of years they fired several people in awful ways for shitty reasons who had been there for years, including a pregnant woman (they wanted to save money by replacing her with the assistant they hired to cover her maternity leave, ie. the new employee was given entry level pay and the org wouldn't have to pony up extra insurance fees for a newborn). But reader, it gets better. It gets so much better.

See, the CEO had built a reputation for himself, because you can't be an egotistical abusive shit made of hubris and shouting without people noticing. I ended up sitting next to one of the org's biggest donors at a friend's wedding purely by coincidence, and spilled all the tea, including how this guy was a walking liability. By this point I'd also worked for a conference where I was able to get this CEO red flagged and blacklisted from ever being invited. And I contributed to a letter against him to the board signed by over 100 people connected with the org's work. All this came to a head and one day, miraculously, it was announced that he was stepping down. Not just that, but the org was going to have a PR makeover - the name was changed, and any mark left by this man was erased. He'd founded his org, and they not only removed him from its helm, but erased his legacy. They said he'd serve on the board, but as far as I know, he never did. And although I never want to see him again, part of me knows how delightful it would be to have the chance to tell him to his face how much of a role I got to have in stripping him of everything he'd worked for and abused. And he's fine, aside from the disgrace - he made ungodly amounts of money and if he's invested as well as I'm sure he did, he's set for life and has no kids to look after.

But the most important thing, the org did better than go out of business after I left. The CEO experienced actual repercussions, and the org became better and more ethical. The new CEO is someone I know to be insightful, thoughtful, patient, and an all around good person. The only thing better than the whole place going up in flames is a new, better place being reborn from the ashes.

38K notes · View notes

christmascocos2023 · 1 year ago

Text

Tuesday 8th August

Well it is finally departure day👏. I am writing this sitting at Perth Airport waiting to board. Arrived half an our earlier than the 2 hrs required and as usual haven’t regretted it! There are a few tricks for young players catching Virgin flights to Christmas Island!! Virgin I thought was the only airline flying to Christmas but I noticed that Singapore Airlines was listed as going also. Not sure if a. Departure board issue or whether they go via on way to Indonesia🤷‍♀️.

Eg Virgin does leave from terminal one however although that is the International terminal Virgin also departs its domestic flights from the same terminal. Hence my arriving expecting to check in as a domestic flight(Christmas is an Australian Territory so hardly international!). You would however be wrong! I tried to do the self check in at the domestic end but my destination didn’t show s couldn’t c,heck in. As usual in any airport there is a dearth of real people to help. Given I was checking in outside of the 2hr prior to departure I assumed I was too early. So I decided to go. The toilet which was down the international end. Good thing I did ! I accidentally came upon a separate real person check in counter or Christmas/Cocos! No do it yourself check with real and very fast! Would never have known had I not stumbled upon it! Having received my boarding pass and gate off I continued toward international terminal for my delayed toilet stop. Next surprise was when I looked for my gate and to my surprise it is at the international end of the airport. Even at checkin they didn’t mention that although the. Christmas check in is at the International end🤷‍♀️. Because it is at International you have to go through border control. Here I was faced with the usual passport scan gate things and to one side a walk through with no gate required and where you went straight to the border force person doing checks. No sign who went where until a border force person asked were I was going and when said Christmas directed to the walk through to the order force person,no gate. Another travel oddity specific to Christmas!. Then usual security and back to normal!

Given Virgin doesn’t supply free food or drink have had to bring some and buy a roll. Cheaper than paying on board and probably better (I hope).

Addit: the virgin checkin person commented when I mentioned I was concerned I might be bit over the 23kg weight limit, that they allow up to nearly a kg more before worry.

Christmas flight

Well continues to be interesting. Due depart 1230 and boarding not until just before 1300 and take off not until after 1330! Another unexpected occurrence and one not warned about! You have to fill in and incoming passenger to Australia for with all the food issues etc! As we are still in Australia I am perplexed. However thinking about it it is possible I suppose that passengers could have transited in Perth from overseas flight though would have assumed they did the form on incoming flight! When I said to crew I didn’t have a pen she told me I would need to find one! Helpful not! Although the other ones were good.

Lucky that the passenger in my row had one and shared!

Couple positive things:

Flight had few spare seats so had spare middle seat

They did serve a half chicken wrap and a mini chocolate each and tea/coffee water and juice . I had a wrap before left airport so fueled up anyway 😁

Do have their WIFI you can log onto and get some movies using your own device but drops out alot (on this flight anyway).

ADDIT: other than the whole checking in information you don’t get told about remember to bring the following for the flight

Passport as have to record number on form

Pen to fill said form

Device if you want to stream their content

Ear plugs for said device.

Arrived

1725 Perth time or 1625 Island time.(will now talk island time)

Luggage collected 1730! Yes some delays.

Note that limited luggage trolleys. Hint is to be in front plane no further than seat 14 so can disembark early and grab trolleys

Got my luggage and my hire car no issue. No sat nav so just have a map to get to my accommodation. For those who know me and my infamous terrible sense of direction and inability to read a map it will come as no surprise I got comprehensively lost😁. Had a wonderful tour around and eventually found my accommodation. In my defense the map was not that accurate and when it came to the entrance to my unit it gave no information! Never say die and I just figured it out! Got here just on sunset! Now sitting at the pub 2 mins or less walk from my unit and right opposite the water. Really lovely. I am sitting on the pub veranda over looking the ocean in balmy evening slight breeze and waiting for my dinner and drinking a vodka and lime😁. I figured I deserved it!

Will send a photo of my hire car.Has seen better days but done plenty of driving in it now so getting it’s idiosyncratic ways😂.

Below sunset from the pub.

The unit is basic but has a huge bathroom, toilet and laundry. Full kitchen facilities. You can lay in bed and look out over the ocean. Has a lovely veranda with table and chairs looking over the ocean. Mind you I nearly collapsed my pelvic floor getting my case up the steps into the unit 🤣.

I have an orientation tour tomorrow morning though could have done with that before today 😏🤣.

BTW had lamb sliders and chips and not too pricey.

0 notes

bitchassbucky · 4 years ago

Text

.zip

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, gaslighting and manipulation, abduction, injuries were mentioned, stalking, dark!bucky x dark!reader, emotionally/mentally unstable!reader, dismemberment (not gore-y but still), three very special character mentions, shady corporate stuff, career sabotage?, food mention, sedation/drugging, f-words.

A/N: oh my god, this is the final chapter of CTRL. to all who read from the start, thank y'all so fucking much - from the bottom of my big-ass heart, thank you so much for coming along with this journey. this is my first FINISHED series, oh my god. to @babyboibucky (CTRL's number one fan), @sarge-barnes-sir, and @borikenlove thank you so much for indulging my inner degenerate GHJSDFG and for screaming (affectionately) at me when i first let y'all read the finished draft.

BUT THIS IS NOT THE END (just yet), i will be uploading TWO epilogues very soon: the explicit version and the not-so-explicit version. stay tuned!

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

epilogue:

.eps (explicit)

.eps (cut)

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Your demeanor, character, even tone, changed.

Calculated, cold, unnerving.

But you sat there like a housewife in front of her husband, eating spaghetti and meatballs. Acting all dandy like there isn’t a man strapped onto the chair four feet away from you.

“C’mon, darling, eat! I made your favorite,” your eyes twinkled as Bucky helplessly tugged on his restraints, “oh, sorry, you’re tied up.”

Hm, sick in the head, bad for the heart.

“What do you want?” Oh, wow, even talking hurts for him. His throat is all dried up, he tasted something bitter under his tongue.

You chuckled, moving half a meatball around your mostly empty plate, “for you to stop treating me like I’m stupid.” You spear the meat with your fork, swirling it in the sauce, “I know you’ve been… checking in on me, Bucky.”

Oh, fuck.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I was-- I mean, look at you--” He’s making it worse. You’re mad. You’re angry because he was being a good friend.

He only did that because you were lonely and he’s right: you are lonely.

So lonely that you’re willing to kidnap a grown man to keep you company, “I’m so sad for you.”

“You’re aware you’re the one’s been tied up, right?” You’re curt as you should be, scooting over near Bucky to feed him.

“I can’t eat that—” If he wasn’t sitting down and tied, Bucky would’ve vaulted over you and called the neighbors, she’s fucking crazy!

You giggled, rolling your eyes as if he had the freedom to make a choice right now, “if you’re thinking of screaming… More than half of my neighbors are felons or on parole, I doubt that they’ll call 911.”

Jutting forward the fork, you let the prongs gently touch Bucky’s lips, “now, eat! We have so much to talk about.”

“No. I don’t-- I’m not hungry.” He shakes his head, the fork hitting his chin and clanking down the floor.

“Just eat the fucking food, Steve!”

Bucky flinched at your sudden outburst. The words—the name—seeping in a moment later. Steve? Who the hell is Steve? Was he your husband? Boyfriend? His head throbbed again, his mouth filling with saliva like he’s about to throw up.

You kneel down, pulling a napkin from the table to wipe the meat and the sauce from the floor.

“This better not stain.”

—

He promised thrice.

Once over pasta and meatballs, once over dessert, and once when you were clearing the table.

You relented, of course. Half because you love him and half because it’s getting annoying.

“As long as you don’t leave me, okay?”

“Yes, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

Bucky’s still seating on the dinner chair, slightly slumped without the ropes holding him up, “look, I’m really sorry about the anesthetic, I went overboard with it.” You look over to him—at least he’s regaining his fingers and arms again.

“It’s okay, babe, I wouldn’t trust me either.” If he could stand up, he’d go over and hug you. Helping with the dishes, peppering you with sweet kisses.

A genuine laugh slips out of your lips, “ugh, still… I’m really sorry.”

The last of the plates were neatly stacked, cups and cutleries were placed gently on a drying rack. It was getting late, you could tell.

“I’m not mad, by the way.” You muse, prompting Bucky to lean forward, listening to you.

“What do you mean?” He takes your hand into his, ever so gently.

“You did that,” you squeeze his hand back, gazing into his soulful eyes, “because you love me.”

Did you know that some people could read microexpressions well? Bucky went through a whole lot of them before answering, “of course, I do.”

Contemplating whether you call him out on it or not, you hum, placing a gentle hand on his jaw, “it’s okay, you’ll learn how to love me.”

He has to. He has no other choice.

Bucky clears his throat, “have you seen my phone?” His tone was hopeful, upbeat, maybe he can reach out to someone, anyone, before you can do any more damage.

“Yeah, ‘s on the couch.”

He tried to move, he really did. Bucky’s fairly strong, he can bench an easy 140 on a good day. But even the beefiest motherfuckers have no match for Propofol.

“Don’t worry about your friends, they’re not worried about you, Buck.” The coolness of your tone sends Bucky into a panic—again. “D’you wanna check your messages though? There’s a lot of ‘em.”

Grabbing his phone, you asked Siri to read him his latest notifications.

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

From Joaquin: Where are you, man?

From John W.: Do you have copies?

Urgent: Notice of Immediate Termination

Urgent: Gross Misconduct

From Joaquin: Bucky, what the fuck?

From Samuel Wilson: Pick up the phone, Barnes. You’re fired.

17 missed calls from an unknown number

From John W.: I knew you were a freak but holy shit, dude!

72 text messages from an unknown number

Bucky never really liked horror movies. It made him jumpy and anxious. Too paranoid, even. But now? Now he’s sure that people have never experienced sheer fright before.

His toes cramped inside his boots, his feet were cold, sweating. The little hairs on his legs stood up, goosebumps littering the entirety of his body. If he held his breath, he’s sure he could hear his heart hammering out of his chest. The blood rushes past his ears and onto the base of his skull—he’s gonna be sick.

“What,” he gulped back the saliva pooling in his mouth, “what did you do?”

You’re irritatingly calm, “well, I mean… We’re already together, what do you need those for, right?”

Putting a warm hand over his forehead, you cooed, “poor thing, you look sick.”

—

Bucky thinks it’s well past midnight when the anesthetic wore off.

His limbs were heavy, he had to lean on the wall every couple of steps to regain his balance. Helpless. He’s helpless and you both know it. As if it’s a bear trap, Bucky carefully took his phone from the coffee table.

Why would you leave it unattended?

The screen lights up as soon as he picked up, his lock screen littered with ‘fuck yous’, ‘sicko’, and his personal favorite, ‘motherfucker.’

Ignoring the glaring messages, he went straight for the emergency dialler and—you took out his SIM card, snapping it into two neat pieces, placing it beside the phone.

Bitch.

The golden surface of the card was scratched too, he can’t do anything, use it as a toothpick, maybe? His phone was just as good as a paperweight.

He looks out of the window, limping towards it. Even if he could climb over, it would take him forever to get onto the street. Your neighbors would probably think that he’s just on a bad trip.

“It’s bolted shut. Perks of living alone as a single female.” Your voice made him flinch back, like a kid whose hand was halfway down the cookie jar.

Bucky plays it off with a cough, he can’t be weak now, “no, babe, I was checking out a noise. You ready for bed?”

You smiled softly, taking his hand and draping his arm on your shoulders as you prop him against you, “almost, big guy. Gotta get you settled in bed first. Are you tired?”

Nodding, Bucky kisses your temple, “yeah.” He just needs to play with your sick little games until he regains his strength.

Where would he go? His reputation and his job are besmirched, his apartment is probably crawling with forensics too.

“You fell down and banged your head earlier. Nasty cut on your head too. I told you to not tire yourself much.”

You hit and drugged me but I digress, “Yes, darling. ‘M sorry.”

“You scared me, Buck. I thought you were dead.” Are these tears forming in your eyes?

“I’m not leaving you, not by any chance. I promise.”

He promises a fourth time.

—

Your bedroom was bigger than he thought. But of course, he only saw your desk and your bed through the webcam.

Save from the Ted Bundy-esque corkboard you have in front of your workspace, he feels weirdly at home. You tucked him in, reminding him to wake up every two hours for the painkillers.

“You’re not going to bed?” He muses from behind you, all cocooned in your blankets.

“Just need to take this phone call real quick, babe.” Your back was turned from him as you work on your company laptop. He noticed that the webcam is covered with white tape.

The sound of an incoming call filled the room before you quickly answer it, your voice turning hoarse and raspy as if you’ve been crying.

Hi, Mr. Wilson. I’m so sorry for the late call. Do I- do I need to come in tomorrow? I just... I don’t feel comfortable facing everyone—I used all my home hours this week and—

Miss L/N, I’m glad you reached out to me. Is it okay if I record this call for security purposes? It’s just for you, me, and the HR department.

You turned to Bucky, your face is stone-cold but your voice belonged to someone so utterly helpless.

No, you don’t have to call into work tomorrow… Or any other day.

A dainty gasp and a fucking sob comes out of your mouth, your eyes were telling a different story.

Am I fired?

God, no. Please, Miss L/N, don’t worry about that. We want you with us through this entire debacle. We want you to take some time off��paid. We’ll also grant you… a grievance package.

You could almost hear what he would say next.

As long as you don’t talk to any members of the press or any journalists until our friends in the PR department can clean this up.

A triumphant smile creeps on your bare features, putting a finger in front of your lips, you mimic a ‘shh’ gesture to Bucky.

You round up another mirthless sob as the CEO drones on about the bureaucracy of this whole thing.

He was really nice to me, you know? He took me out on dinners and lunches. He even brought me to his place and I– nothing happened but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I’m really sorry, Miss L/N. I thought he was…

A good guy? I really thought so too.

Please stay offline for a bit, just for the weekend, alright? Someone from the HR department will be in touch with you for the process. We don’t wanna be a hassle more than what Barnes is. On our behalf, please accept our deepest apologies.

Jesus, this guy had the PR department cook up an apology letter.

Thank you—thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. I’ll keep in touch.

You burst out in laughter a second after the call ended. Hearty laughter, the one where you can feel your belly tightening.

“Did you hear how good I was, baby? Oh my god, we had them fooled.”

We? Fuck your ‘we.’

You slide over the covers, propping up yourself with your elbow as you turn to face Bucky, “don’t worry, you don’t need them anymore. You have me, yeah? We have each other.”

—

Out of the most bizarre things that happened to him last week, finding dismembered fingers in the fridge was the least of his concerns.

“Honey!” Bucky calls out, holding the ziplock bag with a pair of tongs.

You bound down the stairs, your laptop in hand as you squint, “what am I looking at?”

Bucky hesitated, maybe he’s going insane too, “fingers. Dismembered fingers—are these yours?”

Setting down the laptop onto the table, you peck him on the cheek, smiling as if him holding a baggie with human remains is just your Sunday normal, “god, I hope not. I need my hands to do things.”

As soon as you look back at him, you dropped the facade: “those are Steve’s. Well, used to be.”

Bucky’s afraid to ask the question where’s the rest of him?

“You know the term pinky promise, right? Well, it has a dark origin.”

Just as fast as a bustling train, Bucky rakes his brain for all the times he promised you something. Hoping that he won’t end up with a stump for a hand.

One vividly bright memory is seared into his brain though, the days blurred together with sharp edges and mismatched colors: we love how we were taught to love.

So, who taught you how to love like this?

#bitchassbucky writes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x reader smut #dark!bucky x reader fluff #dark!bucky x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader smut #dark!bucky barnes x reader angst #dark!bucky barnes x reader fluff

153 notes · View notes

heroofthreefaces · 3 years ago

Text

Thursday I was given sixty days' notice of job termination.

So were the other two transcriptionists. It's not a surprise (though still a shock) because our supervisor has been telling us for a few weeks that as of the first of the year the department's switching to a new software platform which doesn't seem to provide for the task that we do. We don't understand how the work the Speech Team does can be done without this kind of human intervention but it looks like it's been decided at a higher level. Our supervisor had been trying to find out more for us, but in the end we found out from HR. He did say there was a wave of layoffs Thursday all through the company from reorganization, which is hardly the first of these waves there've been over the last few years since the company was last sold off, to an outfit that remaximizes profitablility and sells you off again in turn. Friday one of the other transcriptionists told me our supervisor is quitting too.

November 30 is my last day and I'll get fifteen weeks' pay and the option to sign up for COBRA health insurance (and to see how much it costs; fortunately that'll be during the annual Obamacare open enrollment so I'll have options I can comparison-shop). And the company will pay for me to see an outfit that helps you with your resume and interviewing. Or, since I'm not being let go for cause, I'm eligible to get hired for another position at this company, which I think would be my preference for reasons, but I can look into that next week. Or, I'll be 62 and eligible for early retirement in December, but I looked at the SS website about a year ago and concluded then that I need to wait till at least 65 if I don't want to work too, which I don't; but I'll take another look at that, again, next week.

I took off work Thursday and Friday just to give myself time for the initial panic to run out. This is what happened to me when ADT closed their Omaha call center in 2009 too, including the jobhunting coaching. This is the second job in a row that's been reorganized out from under me. I'm too old for this shit.

#blogging #work #me

27 notes · View notes

antiloreolympus · 3 years ago

Text

10 Anti LO Asks

1. im sorry i just noticed the "her butt looks like an upside down heart" panel (which is already gross lmao i hate him) literally just looks like a ball sack 💀 like what is this??? kids read this??

2. FHGSKDFDS i love the ppl who are like 'well the art sucks anyway that could explain why the pay is so bad' like?? 😭

3. Smythe's treatment of the Minthe story is so bizarre. Minthe is a low-ranking nymph, Persephone is among the most important gods, a child of Zeus. The idea that Minthe is a genuine threat to someone like Persephone and cheering for her demise is so odd, it's like claiming that mortal Semele could ever have the upper hand in a rivalry with Hera, the queen of gods. The power imbalance is insane and it's weird that this is hailed as a yass queen moment for her, like Minthe ever stood a chance

-----

From OP: To clarify, the assistant would have to do 20 panels for a week (from what was stated). However, it definitely has to be done before a week since it has to be ready by Sunday. With the pay of $450 USD total, that’s $22.50 per panel. I think the assistant would spend 30 - 45 min per panel if RS is hiring someone who can do it fast.

I’m iffy on the payment but I still need to clarify because I feel some of these asks have some misleading information or misinterpreted the post in this next section.

-----

4. im sorry but rachel going "i work 150 hours a week on LO!" is such bullshit lmao. girl if youre spending that much time on it why does it look that bad then? also if it takes that much work then the ppl should be paid MORE for it, not under min wage like she's trying 💀 also thats basically admitting shes fine with subpar and even bad work when its like ... girl just take a few months off, the terminally online persona aint working.

5. rachel doubling down saying each LO ep is 60 panels and how she spends 150+ hrs on it a week is so like ... ma'am you know that makes you look worse, right?? especially bc we know damn well shes not doing all this extra stuff she claims (lettering, backgrounds, shading, inking, panelling, etc) so like??? is she just admitting she's bad at time management??? bc if she actually (or rlly her team) spend that much time a week on an ep and it still looks like That after all of it... 🤡

6. you know what the nastiest part is about this pay discourse? rachel is purposely ONLY posting this on her social media instead of through actual artist scouting, because she knows theyd laugh at how much work shes demanding for such little pay, but her fans would do anything to "be friends" with her, so they wont question her or her actions. this is so shady of her to do.

7. rachel should prove the haters wrong and actually do the art instead of having five other people who get no character sheets and only sketches to work off of and paying damn near nothing for it, that'll show em.

8. tbh the most insidious part about rachel scamming her fans out of work is that we know not only will they not get a cent out of the FP money, but eventually she'll put them in a print book, meaning she'll be making even MORE money off their work, while they don't get a cent from it. more so, unlike other comics with actual backgrounds, VFX, lettering, etc, lineart and flats are the ONLY thing that goes into LO, so they are quite literally doing all her work. i'm disappointed by unsurprised.

From OP: You know, that’s actually a really good point. Especially if they aren’t going to be a long term artist.

9. the amount of LO stans defending how badly rachel is paying and then going "id work for free just to brag i worked with her!" is so??? bad??? just because you like LO does not mean you should let her pay so low or even get free work out of you, bc at the end of the day SHE is getting all the fp money, the merch sales, and eventually she'll put that underpriced work in a book and make even more money off of it while you get nothing out of it. shes banking off "for exposure" instead of actual pay.

10. rachel deleting her tweet showing shes shit at paying for labor only she benefits from and being roasted in the QRTS about it ... name a more iconic duo than her and her easily bruised ego, ill wait.

-----

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

20 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 3 years ago

Note

So, I gave my employer my 2 weeks notice last Friday, and today I was sick so I called in. My supervisor asked me to meet with her on teams, so I agreed figuring it was important. There was my supervisor, manager, and someone from HR there. They told me that I had hit my occurrence limit on absences (which I'm pretty sure is wrong?) and they were gonna move up my termination date to today. Like, I feel like I should be happy, this gets me out of a bunch of tedious wrap up work I would have needed to do, and my medical coverage is good until the end of the month, but I feel kinda shitty. Maybe like I got fired instead of leaving on my own terms? Idk, this situation just feels weird to me. Can I ask your take on the situation? Am I being irrational?

1. Some places do have limits on how often you can call out sick in a certain time period or with other restrictions - I would check your union contract/agreement or, if non-unionized, look at your employment contract/agreement. To give an example, my previous job it was in our union contract that if you called out sick three times in a three-month period, the next time(s) after that you would need a doctor's note in order to use sick leave and not be classed as AWOP (absent without pay) for that day/period you were out sick, and the three month period started from the date of the last time you called out sick. The number of days you were out sick didn't matter, just the number of times you were out.

2. It is a little weird, since you were basically a week and half or so from being gone anyway - although this does save them having to pay or schedule you for the remainder of the time. You might want to check your contract/agreement and see if early termination affects anything else, like accrual payout. Depending on the termination reason, it could also affect your ability to collect unemployment (if that was a concern or issue).

3. I think the fact that it is less on your own terms is definitely a factor, and the fact that it happened virtually and not in-person.

3 notes · View notes

slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years ago

Text

mistletoe & california snow - t. meier

Here’s the first of the things I’ll be putting out for the Christmas and holiday season! I’ve been working on this for the past few weeks, it’s pretty long - bear with me - but I am proud of it and how it’s turned out. As always, I read all the tags and love seeing and hearing people’s thoughts, so please let me know what you think!

word count: 7.6k+

warning: sexual content (light & brief, but no one under 18 please!)

Timo came into Noemi Silva’s life when she least expected it. It’s a cliché saying, one that had been around since time immemorial, but it was true. He wasn’t looking for anything serious, and she had just gotten out of a relationship a few months prior. But then she had gotten an internship with the Sharks social media team in winter of her senior year of college, and the more time she started spending around the players, the more he realized he wasn’t able to stay away from her. Not in a bad way, but in the kind of way where he simply noticed how radiant she was and wanted to do whatever he could to get to know her, to be around her, in whatever way she’d let him. So colleagues turned into friends, turned into him asking her out two weeks before playoffs started. She didn’t say yes right away, but it wasn’t because she didn’t know, and it wasn’t because she wanted to make him sweat it. She was worried about what people would think; an intern dating one of the team’s star forwards, worried that the office gossip would turn into arguments that she didn’t earn her job, or that she was trying to get people to go easier on her. After a long conversation with Alise, one of her best friends, then her older sister, then Timo, she finally agreed. Them being together wasn’t as big of an issue as she had thought, a few meetings with HR and some paperwork and they had the green light, as long as they kept things professional at work. And then she was offered a full-time job after her graduation, and now, almost three years after they had first met, she was days away from marrying the love of her life.

He had proposed at the very beginning of the year, on a weeklong trip to Switzerland courtesy of the Sharks’ bye week and a very well-timed nonstop flight to Zürich. Noemi wasn’t an overly sentimental person, she thought as she curled next to her fiancé on their living room couch, watching an episode of Gossip Girl. She never had been, but even she would admit without hesitation that there wasn’t a single thing she would have changed about their engagement.

---

Noemi’s parents were out of town on a weekend getaway to wine country, so they weren’t able to drive her and Timo to the airport for their bye week vacation to Switzerland. Everything had lined up perfectly that year, and Noemi almost couldn’t believe their luck. She had accompanied the Sharks’ delegation to the past two All-Star Weekends, one the year prior and the other only the weekend before. So they both had a full week off for the first time since the offseason. The Christmas break was great, but it wasn’t nearly enough time to travel anywhere, let alone somewhere outside of the country. They had both been worried about the flight time — for a while, the only option was nearly twenty hours with a seven-hour layover in London — but thankfully, a nonstop flight from San Francisco to Zürich had opened up that they had booked just before the holidays.

All leading to the current moment, with Noemi, Timo, and their bags in the backseat of Kevin Labanc’s SUV as he pulled up to the curb of Terminal G. “Hope you guys have fun in the Alps, getting snowed on and freezing your asses off while I relax on the beach, getting—”

Noemi cut him off, arching an eyebrow. “Freezing your ass off, Kevin. It may be California, but I think you’re vastly overestimating how warm Santa Cruz beaches get. Have fun, though,” she quipped.

The corner of his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Meier, did you know that your girl can chirp better than half the team?”

“One of her many talents,” Timo said, shrugging as he hefted their bags out of the trunk. Noemi was the first one to hug his teammate goodbye, and then Kevin pulled Timo into an embrace.

“But seriously, guys. Have fun. Good luck,” he said, looking back at Timo.

“What did he say good luck for?” Noemi asked, her brows furrowed as they walked through the sliding doors to the check-in counter.

Timo made a noncommittal noise. “Not sure. Maybe he meant to say good flight?” And it was a good flight, they were both able to get a few hours of sleep in before breakfast was served just as they were flying over Scotland.

Noemi wrested her back from under the seat before slinging it onto her shoulder and flashing a grateful smile at the flight attendants as they disembarked. She shivered as the cold air hit her on the jet bridge — as soon as they made it out to the gate, she made Timo stop so she could grab a jacket out of her bag, zipping it up all the way to under her chin. Timo snorted; she glared at him. “We weren’t all born with snow in our veins, Timo.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

She had been through the airport once before, but once was nothing compared to the she-didn’t-even-know-how-many flights Timo had taken. He gave her a kiss on the cheek as they reached passport control, moving towards the automated gates as Noemi stood in the line for non-Schengen nationals. “See you on the other side.”

Timo had already been waiting for ten minutes by the time Noemi got through. Though, all things considered — especially when compared to the hour-plus lines they were both used to trying to get back into the United States — it wasn’t bad at all. “You get through okay?” he asked, kissing Noemi as she came up to where he had settled by a coffee shop.

She nodded. “Yep, no issues. Asked me why I was here, I said I was visiting family with my Swiss citizen boyfriend, asked how long I’d be here for, I said a week. She told me welcome to Switzerland, stamped my passport, and said to have a good trip.” She tucked her passport into her purse, zipping it closed.

Timo bent down to kiss the top of her head as she leaned into him, her hands wrapping around his waist. “Let’s get going, then.”

---

The day before they were due to fly out of Zürich, they decided to go into the city. By they, it was really Timo’s decision; before they left San Jose, he had shown her pictures of Zürich in the winter and mentioned the zoo. It was an easy sell, she loved getting to see the lemurs. They had done the zoo in the morning and the national museum in the afternoon, before the sun set just after 5 PM.

The beer garden he took her to for dinner didn’t have any more indoor seating — something Noemi didn’t have a preference on, but Timo seemed concerned about — so the couple settled outside, warmed by a heating lamp and a well-placed fire pit off to the side of their table. “I feel like a lizard,” Noemi remarked, glancing up at the lamp. Timo laughed, holding her hand and absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over the top as he scanned the menu. “Now, it may come as a shock to you, but I happen to be less-than-fluent in Swiss German, so you’re going to have to help me out here,” she said as she read the menu. “Pictures are only getting me so far.”

He chuckled, leaning over the table “Do you want the raclette or the fondue?”

Noemi’s brow furrowed. “Raclette?”

Timo pulled out his phone, quickly navigating to Google. “The best way to describe it is like warmed, bubbly cheese that’s like scraped onto the food. Potatoes, meat, that kind of stuff. As opposed to fondue, which is obviously just fondue.”

She looked at him, bewildered. “How many ways do the Swiss have to eat cheese?”

“We’ve been perfecting it for 700 years, No.”

The raclette was incredible, as expected, and the saison their waitress had suggested paired perfectly. It was nearing eight by the time they had paid the check, and they had an hour long drive back to his hometown, but the night wasn’t over yet. Some of the Christmas lights were still up, and a short walk around downtown led them to a little art gallery that was still open, Timo purchasing a gorgeous oil painting of the city, the clock tower of St. Peter in the background.

“Belated Christmas present?” he asked, grinning at Noemi, as he arranged for it to be shipped back to California.

She rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”

“Merci vielmal,” Timo said to the curator. “Come on, there’s one more thing I want to show you before we leave.”

Noemi blew on her hands before she stuffed them back in the pockets of her down jacket, following him out the door. She had gotten it a few months after she had been hired by the team full-time; there were a few different people on the social media team, so she didn’t go on every road trip, but it had become an invaluable addition to her wardrobe. She had made the foolish assumption that a November in Calgary couldn’t be too cold, and had only brought a fleece and a raincoat on one of her first trips with the team. It had been one of the worst mistakes of her life, and she had ended up having to run out to a Canada Goose outlet during her lunch break just so she wouldn’t freeze to death.

Noemi wasn’t sure where they were going, but supposed that she wasn’t in a place to be very skeptical. It was only her second time in Switzerland — she had flown out the summer prior to visit with him and his family — and she certainly wasn’t an expert, so she followed her boyfriend down the street and around the corners of tiny stone-faced apartments and old churches, a light sprinkling of snow dusting itself on her beanie. They walked for a few minutes before coming to the banks of Lake Zürich, where icy water would normally be lapping at their toes, even in January. Noemi hadn’t taken much of a look at the lake on the drive in; if she had, she would have noticed that it was completely frozen over, with couples walking and children playing tag even at the comparatively late hour.

He squeezed her hand as he stepped onto the ice. “Come on, babe.”

Noemi bit her lip. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

Timo nodded. “I called and asked a friend of mine the day before we left, it’s been frozen for almost a week and the weather hasn’t gotten any warmer. It should be at least nine, ten inches thick. Plenty safe.” So she let him take her hand, pulling her out to step gingerly on the ice, one foot in front of the other.

“Does it freeze often?”

Timo shook his head. “First time since ‘65. You’re getting something special here, No.” The snow gave their feet some purchase on the ice, and it was only a few minutes before they were standing where the middle of the lake should be, looking up at the jet-black night sky. “Can you see Cassiopeia?” Timo asked, looking up to the sky, his hands jamming in his jacket pocket, playing with what Noemi could only assume were his keys.

After their first date, dinner and a comedy show, they had driven to a stunning viewpoint on the outskirts of the city, bringing a blanket and laying outside stargazing and lazily kissing until they had to go to sleep sometime after midnight. “I could stay here for hours,” he had murmured as she lay against his chest. “Don’t think Boughner would take too kindly to you being late for morning skate,” Noemi had said. But she wasn’t arguing; she would have stayed there the rest of the night if they could. And Cassiopeia had always been her favorite constellation, the first one she pointed out to Timo that night, and one she loved just as much almost two years later.

It took her less than ten seconds to find it, the familiar “W” beckoning her just like it had a hundred times before. She looked back to where Timo had been just a moment before, mouth half-open, ready to show him the stars.

But he wasn’t there. Well, not standing, at least. He was kneeling on the ice, a blue jewelry box with a ring inside it balanced in his hand as the other reached out gently for hers. She gave it to him, of course she did. “Noemi Francisca Silva, you came into my life when I least expected it. I didn’t think I wanted a relationship, you weren’t sure either, but somehow after a few months of trying to be ‘just friends,’ we realized that just friends wasn’t going to work. And God, am I glad we figured that out. You’ve somehow fit in my life so perfectly that I have no clue how it ever worked before you were there. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, but even more than that, you’re so full of joy, you’ve always got a kind word to say about anyone, and you’re the best person anyone could ever ask for to have in their corner. I’m so glad you’re in mine.” He paused for a moment, looking back up at her with a half-smile on his face. “You asked what Kevin wished us good luck for back at the airport. Well,” he shrugged, “this is it. Noemi, it’s been the honor of my life to get to love you, and I can only hope you’ll let me do it for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

For as worried as she had been about the ice not twenty minutes before, Noemi barely paid any mind as she crashed down next to him, their foreheads touching as his shaking hands slid the ring onto her wedding finger. It was the easiest answer she’d ever given in her life. “Yes.”

As Noemi straddled Timo in the driver’s seat of his SUV two days before their wedding, the bags of falafel having long since been abandoned in the back seat, she thought that she had never been so grateful for tinted windows and early sunsets. “The milkshakes are going to melt,” she gasped out as his fingers started to trail up her shirt, playing with the line of her bra.

“We’ll throw them in the freezer when we get home,” he said. Well, there’s not really any way I can argue against that, Noemi considered. So she let him pull her shirt off, undo the buttons on her shorts, and grab a condom from the center console — he had made damn sure to clean it out before filming a “what’s in my car” bit with the video team earlier that week — and slid into her as she tried desperately to keep her moans in check. “It’s okay, baby, let it out. I want to hear,” he said.

And she was in no place to argue. So she gasped and whimpered while he moaned underneath her, the seat tilted back just enough for him to hit her just right. And Timo knew almost everything about Noemi. You don’t get to be together with someone for over two and a half years without learning about them. He knew she liked waffles over pancakes and hated having to get up early and how she almost cried the first time she got sent to the principal’s office in third grade. He knew her body better than she did, how to send her crashing into an orgasm that left them both breathless with tired, goofy grins on their faces after.

But as Noemi steadied her breathing, looking out the window — the parking lot was still mercifully empty — she thought that maybe she’d leave out the fact that they had just fucked right across the street from her childhood church. At least we’re not trying to get married there, Noemi thought. I’d take up the whole damn time for Confession just for the past month.

---

Noemi stuck her head out of the door of her seventh-floor hotel room. The coast was clear. It was the end of February, ten months after they had gotten together, and the team was in the middle of their last big Midwest sweep of the season. Going through the Central Division — plus a stop in Toronto — was incredible and Noemi was shaking herself awake every morning, realizing that this really was her job, but it was also exhausting, and as much as it may have seemed counterintuitive, lonely at times. Well, lonely in a particular way. She had the rest of the social media team, and she was friendly with most of the athletic training staff, and she saw the players pretty much every day, and she was friends with most of them. But the team was a little more than halfway through the trip, and she’d barely gotten to spend any time with Timo. Sure, there were meals, and the few off hours they got had been amazing — when they played the Preds, it was her first time in Nashville, and walking around Music Row had been the highlight of her weekend — but it wasn’t the same as if they were back in San Jose.

Okay, if she was being totally honest, she missed the sex. It obviously wasn’t like she was finding it impossible to go without, she had dealt with it just fine when he was on a roadie and she was back home, but knowing that they were so close but couldn’t quite get there was a special kind of torture. Until now, when Timo had texted her just five minutes before. Kevin’s just gone out for a run, says he’s getting food after, some baked potato place or whatever. Idk. He’s weird. Anyways, coast should be clear for an hour or so 👀

Noemi had initially rolled her eyes at the message, not even sure if she’d text him back, but the more she thought about it, the more she was tempted. Fuck it, she thought, texting him that she’d be right over. Which is how she found herself trying to sneak the 50 feet over to Timo’s room without being seen. Everyone knew they were together — they had for months — but the last thing she wanted was to have to explain to Erik Karlsson that the reason she was out pushing curfew was that she just really, really wanted dick. The poor man didn’t need to know.

So she barely had to tap her fingers on Timo’s door before he swung it open, walking her back towards the bed while holding her around the waist. His knees hit the edge of the bed. Thank God there were two; she wanted him, sure, but even she wasn’t about to cross the line that was having sex in her friend’s bed an hour before he was set to sleep in it. She fell on top of him, sighing as his hands wandered under the hem of her oversized Santa Clara t-shirt, a mainstay from her college years. “Gotta get this off of you,” he mumbled.

Noemi let out a breathy laugh. “Good things come to those who wait.” She barely had time to let out a gasp before he flipped her over. “It’s only been, what, a week?” Noemi asked, giggling.

“Too long,” Timo replied, his lips trailing down the column of her neck. Her shirt was quickly forgotten on the floor, his following after a few minutes. She had gotten so worked up over the past week that he barely had to spend two minutes between her legs before she was pulling his mouth back up to hers, her hands fumbling with his belt buckle before finally getting it undone. “Fuck, one second,” he breathed, half-falling off the bed as he stumbled over towards his suitcase, zipping open the inner pocket before pulling out a condom. “You ready, babe?” he asked as he rolled it on.

She nodded quickly. “Get over here.” He had just pressed into her when the door opened.

“Brought back some fries to share, thought it would be nice since you didn’t get a chance to—” Kevin hollered as he walked into the room, while Noemi tried frantically to grab anything she could to cover herself. “Oh God. Jesus. Were you two just fucking?”

“In a manner of speaking?” Noemi said, pulling Timo’s dress shirt tightly around her.

“God, why would you two? I’m not even going to ask. I don’t want to know. You two are gross,” he said, though he had the tiniest of smiles on his face when he finally brought his hand away from his eyes. “I’m going to, I don’t know. Go down to the lobby, and...Watch CNN or something. Be done when I get back.”

He was gone just as quickly as he had walked in, and Noemi fell back on the bed, her face buried into the nearest pillow. “We’re never going to be able to live that one down, will we?” she asked hopelessly, already knowing the answer.

“Nope.”

---

A month or so after he proposed, when the post-engagement glow had begun to fade and the equal parts excitement and apprehension about planning a wedding began to set in, they had to figure out how they actually wanted everything to work. Where and when and how and how many, things neither Timo nor Noemi had ever even considered went into planning a wedding. Things like figuring out if their vendor provided linens or if they had to rent their own, things like what to do with the flowers after the reception was over and how to reserve a block of hotel rooms. Enter Mohana. Noemi had been an art minor in college, focusing on watercolor and digital design, so she sent over bits and pieces, links to Pinterest boards and concept art, and then handed off the responsibility.

It was important to Timo that the wedding be during a time of year where the team would be able to make it; sure, summers were free, but everyone had vacations to go on and family to visit and he really didn’t want them to have to go to the expense of flying back to California just for a weekend. Even though he knew without a doubt that they would. And neither he nor Noemi thought it was a good idea to do it in spring — spring meant the playoff push and their schedules being filled even more than usual, and they didn’t want it to turn into just one more thing to worry about. Which meant fall or winter, but fall could be hectic with the season starting and most of the weekend dates for their venue had already been booked up. Which took them to December. Her own parents hadn’t really cared, but Noemi’s grandparents hadn’t been exactly thrilled when she told them she wasn’t having a church wedding. They got over it pretty quickly, though a lengthy call from her mom might have had something to do with that.

Noemi wasn’t initially a huge fan of having a Christmas wedding. Though, really, it wasn’t even a Christmas wedding — it was on the 22nd — she was worried that people would have already settled in with their families, that she’d be disrupting plans and dynamics and traditions, that everyone’s toes would freeze off during the ceremony and suddenly their plans would be waylaid by having to take half the bridal party to the hospital to be treated for frostbite. She might have been exaggerating on the last one a little bit; even Bay Area Decembers rarely dipped much below 50º in the afternoon. But the winery they had chosen as their venue was available, and Mohana loved planning winter weddings, and Timo’s family had already been planning to fly over to spend the holidays with them. And red was her favorite color. So, all things considered, it was an easy sell.

Planning the wedding itself turned out to me more difficult than either of them had anticipated. The Sharks’ season ended abruptly in the Cup finals that year, so they both got what planning they could out of the way before leaving for Switzerland. Cake tasting was done two days before leaving, and she had ordered her dress in March. Facetime meetings with Mohana were usually done in the California morning, which meant that more than once, she had been explaining vendor costs and asking if they preferred peonies or poppies as they were cooking dinner in his parents’ house. Noemi headed back to California in late August — she would have stayed longer, but was limited to a ninety day stay in a six month period without a visa and didn’t feel the need to go through the trouble when Timo was following a few weeks after. It wasn’t ideal, and she missed him more than she wanted to let on at times, but a month came and went and they were reunited.

---

A soft knock came on the door of the bridal suite. “Everyone decent?” the voice asked.

“We’re good!” Emily called back. It was a no-brainer for Noemi to pick her sister as her maid of honor, who had nearly cried when she asked her early in the summer.

Patrick stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind him. “Can’t have him see you before,” he said jokingly.

“Wouldn’t want that,” Noemi said, smiling softly. Patrick had stuck around after his retirement, working with the player development staff during the season. Everyone was the better for it, and they were all so grateful to have him still be a part of the family. Even apart from his consistency and dedication on the ice, he had always been a natural leader of any locker room he was in, mentoring younger players without being asked and always being there for anyone who needed him. “It’s what the team dad does,” he always said.

So it was only natural that Timo and Noemi had wanted to find a place for him in their wedding. He had been all too happy to step up and help them with last-minute preparations the morning of, checking in with their wedding planner Mohana and helping to get all of the organizational details squared away — he had even driven back to the hotel the guests were staying at to pick up one of the groomsmen’s shoes when he had realized he had brought the wrong pair. “You feeling good, kid?”

Noemi looked at the clock on the wall: half an hour until the ceremony started. She gave him a nervous smile. “Definitely got some butterflies, but they’re good ones. I’m excited.”

The corner of his eyes crinkled. “Good, I’m glad. I remember when Christina and I got married, I was nervous, sure, but I knew. Knew she was the one, knew she was it for me. I’m glad you and Timo found each other, Noemi. A piece of advice?” She nodded. “Don’t get so caught up in the nerves and feeling like you need everything to be perfect that you forget what the day’s about. It’s about celebrating you, and him, and this marriage that you’re going to be building together. The photos will turn out great, nobody’s going to get food poisoning, and you won’t trip walking down the aisle. So don’t overthink it.”

“Patrick, I just put my makeup on,” Noemi said, dabbing under her eyes with a napkin. “You can’t just say things like that and not expect me to cry.”

He bent down, kissing her on the cheek. “You look beautiful, Noemi. This is your day. Enjoy it.”

Patrick opened the door to the guy’s room just as Timo finished fastening his cufflinks. He looked up. “Were you just with No?”

Patrick nodded. “She looks amazing, Timo.”

“Course she did,” he said, like it was the easiest answer in the world. ”How was she?”

“Good. Nervous, but good. She’s with the girls, they were all drinking mimosas or something while they did their makeup,” Patrick said, sitting on the arm of the couch.

Timo’s eyebrows lifted. “Was she in her dress?”

“No,” Patrick said, rolling his eyes. Well-meaning though he was, he knew that Timo had been pestering Noemi to show him at least a glimpse of her dress, to no avail. She had ended up keeping it at her parents’ house when his bothering got to be too much. She loved it though. “You’ll see her soon.” Not soon enough, Timo thought.

“You here to impart some sage wisdom, Patty?” Kevin asked, poking his head out of the bathroom as he straightened his tie. Red for the groomsmen, a subtle plaid for Timo.

“As a matter of fact,” Patrick said, “I did have some things I thought about if you’d like to hear them.”

Timo nodded quickly. “Of course.” It wasn’t just that he respected him for his role on the team and his former place in the locker room, it was his dedication to his family and healthy marriage that made him immediately tune in to whatever he had to say.

“I know you’ve probably already figured this out already, having been together for as long as you have and living together now, but in case you haven’t. When you’re in a relationship, a marriage especially, you’re on the same team. You’re going after the same goal. Happiness and comfort and strength. Remember that. You’ll have disagreements, you might fight, but don’t let that overshadow the fact that whatever issue you two are facing, you’re meant to go at it together. Two,” he ticked off on his finger, “you’re going to have to compromise, probably more than you realize. Whether it’s what kind of take-out you’re going to get or where you’re going for vacation or what you’re going to do when you hang up the skates, listen to what she says, think about your priorities as a couple, and talk it out. And sometimes you’re going to have to learn when to let it go and let her win, regardless of if you think you’re right or not.”

“I’m learning that one,” Timo said as he finished tying his dress shoes.

Patrick smiled. “Good. Last, and probably the most important one, this is your priority now. Your marriage is your priority, she’s your priority. You said you guys talked about kids, yeah?” Timo nodded. “When you have kids, then, your family comes first. Your kids come first. I know it’s sometimes hard for people in our positions to wrap their brains around, when your whole life has been nothing but going to the rink and going to the gym, but there’s things that you’re going to need to prioritize over that, and that’s okay. The team understands it, everyone understands it. If you miss an optional skate to drop your kids off at school, or take off the gym for a week in the summer to go on vacation. If you’ve got to miss a game because your wife’s having a baby, or you take a call in a meeting when you shouldn’t because it’s Noemi and she needs you, that’s okay. Balance doesn’t come naturally to hockey players, hardly ever, but it’s something you’re going to need to learn, even better than you might think you know now. You do that, and you’ll be alright.”

There were less than ten minutes until Noemi had to leave, and Emily had just finished fastening the last button on her dress. Noemi took a deep breath, smoothing over the lace at her hips and straightening the edges of the three-quarter sleeves. “God, it’s really about to happen, isn’t it?” she asked in awe.

Her mom squeezed her shoulder. “It is.”

“You need me to drive the getaway car?” Alise, her best friend from college asked, eyebrows raised, one hand playing with the skirt of her crimson bridesmaid’s dress. “I like Timo, I really do, but I love you more.”

Noemi let out a snort. “Thanks, Alise, but I think I’m going to have to pass on this one. We put down a fat deposit on this place and I wouldn’t want to lose it.”

“Pity, I just got the tank filled.”

One of her other bridesmaids brought over the veil, gently tucking the comb in right above Noemi’s low bun. Noemi brushed her fingers over the comb’s pearls and clay flowers, remembering when Timo presented it to her as an early wedding present. “I was thinking it could be your something new.” Her late grandma’s pearl earrings were her something old, a ribbon from her mother’s wedding dress was wrapped around her bouquet, and a blue-edged handkerchief was pinned on the inside of her dress. Needless to say, it was gorgeous, and as Noemi slipped on her heels, she couldn’t help but think that it had all worked out better than she could have imagined.

Mohana poked her head in, pushing back her dark hair as she smiled at the room. “Everyone ready?”

“Bridesmaids are good,” Emily said, looking around. “No?”

Noemi nodded, taking yet another deep breath. “Good to go.”

“Bouquets are outside, I was just with the guys and everything’s perfect, ties are all tied, boutonnières are all in. The second shooter got a few really sweet pictures of Timo’s mom putting his in.”

“God, I almost forgot about the pictures,” Noemi said, even though the photographer had been in the room while everyone was getting ready.

“Alright, let’s go get my bride married!” Mohana beamed. She handed everyone’s bouquets to them as they exited, ending with Noemi. She had designed the bouquets herself, white poppies and red roses and eucalyptus branches all tied together with her mother’s ribbon, but the florist had really outdone herself. A perk of working with the business end of the team was that it took her almost no time at all to get the vendor contacts that the team used for all of their formal events, and a perk of being a WAG was that it took her one text in a group chat to get the number of one of the South Bay’s best wedding planners. And Mohana Kaur had been nothing short of a lifesaver. She had taken Noemi’s vague sketches and fabric samples that she had picked up at Michael’s and turned it into what could only be described as a winter paradise.

The flower girl, Noemi’s niece Elle, grabbed her basket of petals, looking back at her with delight. “Flowers, Auntie No!”

Noemi nodded, beaming back at the little girl. “Very pretty flowers, El-bear. You remember what to do with them?”

“I go after Tobias,” Tomas’ son was their ring bearer, and had honestly occupied most of the attention at the rehearsal, not like she minded, “who goes after Mommy, who goes after Auntie Emily. And then I throw the flowers while I’m walking.”

“Perfect, sweet girl,” Noemi said, bending down — as much as she could in her heels — and gathering up the youngest Silva in a hug. She loved her four-year-old niece more than just about anyone, and it was moments like this that made her that much more excited to have children of her own someday. Mohana had silently gotten all of the bridesmaids in order, looking at Noemi as soon as she stood up. “Showtime?” Noemi asked.

Mohana gave her a wide smile. “You know it.” After giving her attendants one last cursory look, she laid a gentle hand on the space between Noemi’s shoulders, left bare from her open-backed dress. “You look gorgeous, Noemi, and the wedding’s going to be incredible.” With a nod of her head, she led the wedding party down the halls of the winery, stopping at the oaken set of double doors that stood as the only barrier between Noemi and the rest of her life. She could hear noise behind the doors, the chattering of the people most important to her in her life.

Emily turned back towards her sister, squeezing Noemi’s hand. “I love you, No. You picked a good one.” She stepped off to the side as the doors opened, and one by one her bridesmaids walked out, then Tobias, then Elle, until it was only Mohana left. She gave Noemi’s veil a final adjustment, and then the music changed. A gorgeous acoustic version of Coldplay’s Yellow, one of Noemi’s favorite songs and one that had become something of a theme in her and Timo’s relationship. It was playing in his car the night of their first date, she was wearing a yellow dress when he told her he loved her for the first time, they had gone to a Coldplay concert at Levi’s Stadium the summer before the wedding, just after he had flown back from Switzerland.

Noemi took a deep breath, looked down at her ring, and stepped out the door. Some of her friends had been surprised when she told them she’d be walking down alone. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her dad, or wasn’t close to him — the opposite was true. She just felt that there wasn’t a need to feel like someone was “giving her away.” Nobody but herself had the power to do that, so nobody but herself needed to be a part of that element of the ceremony. It was the same reason she had chosen to hyphenate her name instead of just taking Timo’s. She had always loved the idea of a family having the same name, of everyone being easily identifiable as being connected to one another in that sort of way, and she didn’t like the seeming disjointeness that would happen when they had kids, even if if wouldn’t matter to anyone but her. But she also loved her name, loved how it sounded and what it meant and the connection it gave to her ancestors. So Silva-Meier it was.

Her veil trailed behind her as she made her way down the aisle, past the rows filled with 200 of their friends and family who had proven invaluable resources and support over the nearly-three years of their relationship. She risked a look at the end of the aisle, just off to the side of the eucalyptus-and-rose edged wedding arch. Where her fiancé was, the last time she could really call him her fiancé. Timo wasn’t necessarily more stoic than most of the other men she knew, and he was actually a fantastic communicator, but he wasn’t always one to show his heart on his sleeve. No such uncertainty today. The corners of his eyes were glassy with unshed tears, a few of which threatened to escape down his cheek. Kevin tapped him on the shoulder, handing him a handkerchief. I hope the photographer got that, Noemi thought distractedly.

It sometimes was hard for Timo to outwardly show his feelings, especially at the beginning of their relationship; Noemi loved Timo wildly, and there was no doubt in her mind that he felt the same, but Switzerland was never known as a particularly warm-and-fuzzy country, he was still an NHL player with all of the expectations and influences of hypermasculinity that came along with that. There were three times in their relationship where Noemi could remember seeing him cry. Eight months into their relationship, when her mom, Katherine, had had a stroke, he sat with her in the chapel of O’Connor Hospital as she sobbed harder than she ever had in her entire life, and he cried with her. The second time was when he proposed, and when she said yes. The third time was the May before, when the Sharks had gotten within one game of finally hoisting the Stanley Cup but fell to the Capitals in Game 6. At home. She had seen him lose games, seen him lose playoff series’, but that had been a whole new kind of hurt that she had never seen from him, and one that she never wanted to see again.

This was the fourth, and as she reached the end of the aisle, Noemi couldn’t help but think that if she reached up to her eyes, they’d be wet too. Noemi handed her bouquet off to Emily, and reached over for Timo. “Your hands are shaking, No,” he murmured as the crowd settled back down, their officiant extending a welcome to the crowd that the two barely paid attention to. The introduction, the invocation, all went by in the blink of an eye. “Timo, would you like to go first?” the officiant asked. Noemi had been so caught up in the surrealism of the day that she barely realized it was time for the vows.

“Of course,” he said, giving Noemi’s hands one last squeeze before beginning. “I always thought it was cliché when people say that love comes into your life when you least expect it, or when you’re not looking for it. A 23-year-old in the NHL usually isn’t looking to settle down and get married anytime soon.” Noemi gave a watery laugh. “But with you, I quickly discovered how right that was. Noemi Francisca Silva, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and, somehow, you fill parts of myself I didn’t even realize were missing until you came along. I could go on for hours about how much I love you, everything about you. I love how whenever Hozier comes on the radio, you turn the volume in the car up so loud I can’t hear anything else, even when you’re singing along. I love how you never wrap a present without curling the ribbons yourself, no matter how many times I tell you we can buy bows. I love how you don’t even have to ask me what kind of pizza I want when we order anymore, because you already know. But most of all, I love how you’re my partner, my best friend, the person I love the most in this world. And in a few minutes, you’ll be my wife. I love you, No.”

“You had an unfair advantage,” Noemi said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m calling a foul.” She took a deep breath. “When I look back on our relationship, from the first time we met, to our vacations, to our anniversaries, to the day you proposed, there’s one theme that I keep coming back to. It’s the first thing I thought of when I sat down to write these weeks ago. It’s how you never fail to make me feel so unbelievably loved. It doesn’t matter where we are, or who we’re with. We could be at one of the fundraisers, where you’re meant to be schmoozing with Silicon Valley tech execs, or at a party with our friends. You hear me, you see me, and when I’m with you, I feel like we’re the only two people in the room. The biggest piece of relationship I ever got, from my vovó, was to marry someone who makes you want to be a better person. I’ve never met anyone who does that as well as you do, Timo, and you don’t even have to do anything. I’m a better version of myself, the best version of myself, just from being around you.” She paused, going over the words that she had been rehearsing in her head for two weeks straight whenever her fiancé was out of earshot one last time. “Du bosch mine Schatz, und Ich lieb di Bis dass de Tod eus scheidet.”

Timo’s breath caught in his throat at her words. He knew that Noemi had been trying to pick up bits and pieces of Swiss German, but he wasn’t always there to help and it was a notoriously tricky language to pick up. That she had done it on her own made it all the more meaningful. “Timo, do you take Noemi to be your lawful wedded wife? Do you promise to love and cherish her, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others, for so long as you both shall live?” He spoke without hesitation. “I do.”

“And do you, Noemi, take Timo to be your lawful wedded husband? Do you promise to love and cherish him, in sickness and in health, for richer for poorer, for better for worse, and forsaking all others for so long as you both shall live?” Giving her answer was as easy as breathing. “I do.”

Her nervous hands slid Timo’s wedding band onto his left ring finger, and he moved hers into place above her engagement ring. “Now that Timo and Noemi have given themselves to each other with vows, the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of rings, I pronounce that they are husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Noemi had had a lot of kisses in her life, more than she could count. There was her first boyfriend, and senior prom, and college parties, and everything in between. But when Timo’s lips met hers, underneath the sprig of mistletoe that hung from their wedding arch, as he became her husband, she knew without a doubt that this was her favorite one.

#hockey imagines #timo meier #hockey smut #hockey writing #hockey imagine #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl writing #nhl

73 notes · View notes

relevant-ramen · 3 years ago

Text

Work Mask/Vaccine Update

So, it’s been a while but I have an update on our work mask mandate. Actually, not so much about masks but the vaccine policy. Today we had our monthly safety committee meeting. Covid is a standing topic that is covered. HR briefly stated that the mask mandate is still in effect. She also addressed the presidents new executive order. All companies with 100 employees or more must require vaccination or weekly testing for all employees. HR said that even tho the president issued the order, OSHA must mandate it before it must be enforced. Because of this, our company will not be informing it at this time. This is when the one person in the office that still refuses to wear a mask chimed in. I don’t know how he gets away with it, but that’s another discussion. First he asked who would pay for the tests, which is a valid question. HR said it would either be the government or our company, but either way employees would not pay anything. Then he asked if someone would be fired if they refused the vaccine and testing. HR replied with “yes”. Once it is mandated by OSHA, the companies hand will be forced. At this point another HR person spoke up and told everybody not to be worried because this would be down the road. Mr. anti mask instantly replied with “well I’m pretty worried”. That’s pretty much where the conversation ended. My jaw dropped. He is seriously considering being terminated out of spite. I get not wanting to get the vaccine, but refusing testing seems ridiculous. Even if he did get fired or quit, all the other companies in our field are of similar size and would have to follow the mandate as well. He would be screwed, out of stubbornness and pride. After the meeting, I noticed him and one other person who feels similarly in our managers office. At first I could hear them, but then they got pound and it was obvious they were pissed about the situation. Mr. anti mask eventually came out wearing a mask which shocked me, but they kept complaining loudly. I’m guessing either our manager said something to him about his mask, or he decided to wear it to not rock the boat since there’s a chance he could cause his own termination in the future over the vaccine mandate. But, as the day went on he no longer wore his mask. I can’t say I didn’t see that coming. For simplicity sake I’ll call the other person alpha male. He has a very cocky attitude most of the time and walks around like he’s big balls. So, for a good 30min mr anti mask and alpha male kept complaining and talking down about the mandate, vaccine, and people who take the vaccine. They must feel like their surrounded by people who think like them or they just don’t care. But I don’t think like them, and when they talk like that it makes me feel like an outcast. I did the vaccine, I wear a mask, I don’t think like them. I’m what conservatives call a liberal snowflake. If you ask me it should be conservative snowflake. The people that say “this is America, if you don’t like it leave” have been complaining an awful lot lately. Maybe they should take their own advice?

#politics #liberalism #face mask #vaccine #covid 19 #hypocrisy

2 notes · View notes

jake-marshall · 4 years ago

Text

Work In Progress Wednesday - Basterds Style

So @cakebird-art and I are Actually On Crack and came up with a ridiculous retail AU that loosely follows/has nods to the movie and is an excuse to cram all our ships together in one place, lol. I had not intended to start writing it, as we just started coming up with it on Sunday night, but at this point it’s nearly fully formed beginning to end, so I started to give it a whirl. The tentative title is Business is Booming. Here’s the opening - MOST of the key players are featured/mentioned. The fic is primarily from Utivich’s POV, as well, and him getting together with Omar is one of the two main ships (although there’s others in the background).

While most people couldn't wait for Friday to roll around, Smithson Utivich lived for Tuesdays.

Tuesdays were Mall Employee Discount Night at the Fennech Mall's movie theatre, the Gammaplex. And every Tuesday night for the past three months, Utivich had taken advantage of the promotion, joining his usual group of co-workers and escaping for a couple hours of laughter and camaraderie before heading back to the grind the next day, at his job as a sales lead at the toy store Fluff-a-Friend. Utivich scrolled absentmindedly through his social media feed and took another sip of his white mocha. This was another perk of Tuesday nights; one of the friends he would wait for, Archie Hicox, was the owner of the mall's busiest coffee shop, Archbucks. Archie had his closing duties to attend to, but he'd always make Utivich any drink he wanted and let him chill in the small dining area of the closed shop while they waited for the rest of the group, mall security captain Aldo Raine and his second-in-command, Donny Donowitz, to show up.

Utivich's phone pinged. A text from Aldo. [Be there in 5. Bringin a 3rd] Everyone who worked at the mall (well, almost everyone) loved Aldo and Donny, so it wasn't too odd that they'd find someone to come along with them, but Utivich found the short notice kinda strange. They were usually so busy that it was tough to imagine them having time to stop and chit-chat with anyone, bring up the subject of their weekly movie night. Weird? A little. But when Utivich saw Aldo and Donny approaching the gated-off store, weirdness was no longer an issue. The third person joining them, even bigger than Aldo or Donny, made Utivich light up with a huge grin and bolt up from his chair, rushing over to greet all of them and drag open the gate. “Hugo! Hey, man!” Utivich smiled up at his larger-than-life friend. “Geez, what a welcome. What the hell are we?” Donny complained to Aldo in his thick accent. “Chopped liver?” Hugo Stiglitz, ever-stoic, returned Utivich's smile with a crooked twitch of his lips. A smile, in his own right. Hugo was one of Utivich's favorite customers – nah, screw it, his favorite, and had become a good friend, too. It'd taken a while for Utivich to chip down Hugo's reserved exterior, but eventually he'd discovered that Hugo's purchases were part of his monthly visits to the local children's hospital, where he donated toys to the terminal patients. This was the sort of thing that made Utivich believe there really was good in people, which was sometimes a difficult task given some of the past interactions he'd had with customers (parents; mostly – he could never begrudge the kids).

The lobby lights went out, and Archie emerged from the back room, stylish shoulder bag in tow. “Alright, boys, let's head out.” He paused upon seeing Hugo's presence, wagging a finger as he tried to put a name to the face – and to the order. “Ah, wait, it's... medium skim cappuccino...” Then he placed it. “Aha! Hugo, right?” Hugo nodded. “Not to be rude, friend Hugo” Archie said as the group began their walk to the Gammaplex, “but we weren't expecting your company. Although, the more the merrier, I say.” Aldo led the way, even though they all knew where the theatre was. Without turning around, he told them, “Let's just say ol' Hugo here's had another rough day at work and could use somethin' like this to blow off some steam.” Utivich could have guessed as much, considering Hugo had visited him at Fluff-a-Friend for the fourth day in a row. Hugo would come by either on his breaks or when he'd get done with work, and it was Utivich's highlight of the day. But it usually meant, too, that Hugo had had another stressful day at Landstrom's, the sprawling three-story department store that was the cornerstone of the mall. “Rough...” Hugo repeated. “That's putting it lightly.” Donny was beside Aldo, and threw a look back over his shoulder. “Yeah, well, I've been tellin' you to quit, already! You could come work security, with us. You'd be perfect.” Utivich felt Hugo tense up beside him. “It ain't that easy, Donny,” Aldo said. “I'd have trouble walkin' away from that kinda money no matter what sorta assholes were runnin' the show. 'Sides, maybe he don't wanna work 'longside you, ever think of that?” Hugo made a grunting noise, and Utivich couldn't tell if he agreed or not. But he couldn't argue with Aldo's point, either. Landstrom's paid well, especially if you were also commissioned, and from what Hugo had told him, the vast majority of customers were gracious and kind. It was a combination of the power-hungry owner and the snide, insensitive HR manager that was Hugo's driving incentive to up and leave.

#wip wednesday #inglourious basterds #smithson utivich

12 notes · View notes

nrsranger · 4 years ago

Text

2.6

Hosnian System

Raysho Station

Main Hanger

0813 hrs

L.T Colonel Jawook never thought of himself as an overly violent Wookie, and yet here he was, approaching his 250th year, and storming a boarded New Republic Space Station and here he thought his days of heroics were over. Jawook looked around his transport and into the eyes of the 24 other Wookies seated around him that made up his Marine Detachment. Speces discrimination is not a practice the New Reubublic exersiced but ever since Captian Namin apointed Jawook and the dozen Wookies as the Marine Detachment aboard the Ranger, the only Marines alowed aboard the Ranger must speak and understand Shyriiwook fluently which only left Wookies and a miniscule amount of humanoids. What Captain Namin figured was that if he had to have Marines, he must have the best possible Marines. To the disapproval of the Senate and to the virtue of clear communication all his Marines had to be Wookies. The fact that Wookies stood around 2.5 meters and weighed in on an average of 150 Kilos helped a bit. Every time Captain Namin received the roaster of each Academy he always checked for Wookies, and throughout the years he built up his dozen Marines to a team of 24 of the toughest and most Elite Wookie Warriors. Each Wookie was assigned a hovering translator droid in case of interaction with so-called “non-Wooks” due to budget cuts most of them were repurposed recon droids.

Jawook jostled his head and checked his gear, his Bowcaster was at full power and his extra power packs were secure on his belt next to his two grenades and his Ryyk blade was secure on his back.

“We're entering the hanger now 10 seconds until green” L.t Lila Driver said in rough but understandable Shyriiwook that she learned by years of tutoring by Jawook.

Jawook gruffed once, getting the attention of the other Wookies as they turned and peered his direction, he shouted a Wookie battle cry, The other Wookies repeated the battle cry which roughly translated to “May we return home to see the trees grow big”.

“Were Green, REPEAT door is green” Driver said, flipping the switch that opened the transports doors.

Jawook jumped off the transport and onto the cold metal deck of the hanger bay. He took in the situation the three enemy transports crowed the hanger bay, he also took in the sight of five white clad stormtroopers who Jawook figured were assigned to secure the transports. He took sight of one stormtrooper with a grey pauldron that he figured was the officer and fired his Bowcaster hitting the officer square in his chest, flinging him at the opposing wall. The other Wookies followed suit and annihilated the other four. He signaled two of his Wookies who disengage themselves from the group and planted explosives on the engines of the enemy transports. He then howled into his comm as his Wookies split into two groups each taking separate passages.

“Roger that Jawook” L.t Driver said, pulling out of the hangar bay “Hey Joker you still out there?”

“Yeah Wookie were here, we’ll take care of you” Joker said gently but playfully

“Good, this might be a long wait and you make good conversation…..and other things” Wookie said

“Are you flirting with me Wookie?” Joker said

“Only sport flirting, and I was referring to your caff” Wookie said rolling her eyes

Several sniffs and huffs from Jawook caused Diver to say “Sorry Jawook, we’ll switch to a different channel.

“What did he say?” Joker asked

“Isn’t evident?” Wookie said then a click marked the switch to a different channel

With a final gruff in much annoyance of his channel being jammed with his best friend's daughter flirting with a Squad Leader. But he signaled his team of 12 Wookies to move in as Major Snrykk made the same signal to his team. Snrykk’s team was to secure the engineering section to protect from a First Order attempt to blow up the reactor core. Jawook’s team would head to the bridge and seal off any attempt to secure the station.

As Jawook lead his team clearing the station hallway, by hallway all the way up to the bridge the sound of blaster fire caught his attention, he signaled for his team to hold position he then sent his translator droid equipped with a camera to turn the corner of the junction they were at. Jawook checked the display and saw that the station security set up a defensive position at the end of the hallway where a shut door terminated the hallway complete with hip durasteel walls with two Humans, two Duros and a single Twilek fighter firing down the passageway. Attempting to breach this position was 10 Storm Troopers. Jawook then sent his droid flying through the skirmish to get to the New Republics line.

When it arrived it said in a mechanical falsetto tone “On the orders of Lieutenant Colonel Jawook of the Rangers Marine Detachment, stop firing and fall back”

“What?!?, NO!!” One of the Duro Marines said

In that calm droid voice it relayed Jawooks message “You're about to be overrun and to prevent a friendly fire incident, fall back now!”

“What thinks you can take them?” The same Duro said

“You are five twigs, we are 12 Wookies' ' The Droid said approximating a translation.

“That's good enough for me” One of the humans said as he opened the door, climbed through, turned back around and provided covering fire for his comrades when they were all through ,the Human said

“ok, were clear”

Jawook placed his Bowcaster behind his back and drew his Ryyk Blade and turned the corner and ran up behind the nearest Storm Trooper, and plunged his sword through the Storm Trooper back, which caused a short cry of pain that went unnoticed due to the sound of blaster fire from his comrades he then went behind the next one a ran him through, but this time he was noticed by Storm Trooper to the left of him, he gave a shout of alarm which ended when Jawook swung his blade and lopped off the Troopers head. This time the remaining seven troopers turned around, and Jawook gave a terrifying war roar that shook the walls of the corridor. With his blade he sliced through the neckpeice of the storm troopers armor and with his free hand he punched the trooper next to him causing him to crumble into a heap a meter away, he then flattened against the floor as he heard another Wookies cry behind him. The other 11 Wookie formed up blocking the entire passageway in walking hairy carpets armed with Bowcasters. Just as the storm troopers fixed their aim to the wall of fur, Bowcasters filled the coorador with green laser bolts flinging white armored troopers against the durasteel blocks the other marines used as cover.

As the remaining Marines came out of the doorway they looked the Wookies up and down clearly impressed, they all took a step back as Jawook growled but then the translator droid kicked in and said “We are trying to get to the bridge, are we close?”

“Ah, yes,sir you are, through that corridor then the third door on your right” The Twleik said

“Good, Good it is secure?” Jawook said via the droid

“Yes sir; however, we cannot withstand another attack 10 men were assigned to protect the bridge, we are the only five remaining” The Duro said favoring his right arm which had a blast burn clearly visible.

“Understood, I will have a squad stay here and help you defend the bridge” the droid said then Jawook looked at Captain Drhry and snarled with over exaggerated head motions communicated to Captain Drhry that he and his six men should stay here.

“And where are you going?” The Twilk asked

Jawook picked up the Storm Trooper he punched who was now beginning to come back and set him up against the back wall to the right of the door and pulled a cooling pack from his first aid kit and and dropped it in his lap

“When he wakes up tell him to set this against his head, as for me I am going to take back this station” Jawook said as the droid translated he pulled his bowcaster from its place on his back.

Jawook and the other six Wookies made their way to join Major Snrykkk and Squads one and two. They did not get far when they came across five stormtroopers trying to slice their way through a locked door that was labbed SpaceDock One it was the main access route used to get to the New Star Hawk Heavy Cruiser. They were laid with multiple bags of explosives ment, for the heavy cruiser currently under construction. Jawook took careful aim and fired a precise bolt kocking a storm trooper off his feet and depositing him a few meters away. The other four turned and aimed their blasters and opened fire. Several grunts and roars from Captain Oufish warned the other Wookies to mind their aim because if they hit those explosives the entire block will be wiped out. The fire fight continued with the StormTroopers wounding two Wookies, in return the Wookies killed two more storm troopers. The Wookie Bowcaster seldom left wounds if the bolt was not a direct kill then the trauma it caused made it almost impossible for any battlefield medic to treat. The two remaining storm troopers kept on firing, but when Captain Outfish scored a direct hit against a stormtrooper, the final storm trooper lowered his blaster and began scrambling for a small device left on the floor. Jawook recognized it as a detonator, without thinking he dropped his Bowcaster and pulled his Ryyk blade and charged. When StormTrooper finally grabbed it and looked up to see 2.5 meter Wookie charging he fired his blaster twice. Jawook didn't even stop but he swung his Ryyk blade and decapitated, the Trooper in one swipe. The detonator dropped from his hand and landed on the deck with a clang which was drowned out with a larger clang as Jawook dropped to the deck. Captain Oufish and the other Wookies leapt forward to help their wounded comrade, but as they flipped his body over it was too late, the last breath left hip lips and the last blood dripped from his paws.

Just then the comm crackled to life and through a growls and roars Captain Outfish realized that Major Snrykkk was saying that the remaining white beetles were fleeing back to the pods. Captain Outfish kneeled by his fallen C.O and grabbed his Ryyk Blade and moved his squad back to the main hanger, as they arrived he saw a trail of white armor leading to transports that were taking off. Major Snrykkk and Squads 1 and 2 were spraying continuous fire. As the transports left the energy barrier, Major Snrykkk walked to the edge of the barrier then pulled out his detonator, and pressed the big red button, and off in the distance three distant explosions clashed with the Star Scape.

Just then the Captain Drhry and his squad assigned to protect the bridge, appeared through a door joined by the five non-wooks and one additional Duro after hearing that the Storm Troopers were in full retreat and made their way to the hangar. They all gathered in the back center of the hanger and counted. After every mission Jawook always said that this was the worst feeling in the universe, to count and be one short. Captain Oufish explained what happened and every gigantic Wookie eye fell on Major Snrykk. Who pulled out his comm and called L.t Lila Driver.

“Hey guys, what up” she said cheerfully

The Comm was filled with the roars and snarled

“Alrighty, my escort I will pick you up!” She said

A few minutes later the Transport shuttle and an X-wing came into view. As they switched to repulsors then touched down, the Wookies were gathered in a tight circle. As Lila jumped out of the transport she made her way to the Wookies.

“Hey, guys” she stammered seeing something was wrong “what’s going on”

They said nothing, but the circle broke up into a more or less a crescent moon and at the center was Captain Oufish holding out Jawook’s Ryyk Blade. As Joker climbed out of his X-Wing he noticed that Lila without a single word walked up to Captain Oufish and accepted the newly cleaned blade, Joker noticed that Lila’s tears flowed freely. Then when she grabbed the blade, rotated it horizontally and bowed, the Wookies let out a roar so terrible and fighting that Joker took a reflexive step behind the land strut of his X-Wing. His bones rattled and his ears rang with the rage and sadness of the Wookies at the loss of their Commander. But then his eye caught sight of a Duro timidly walking his way, from his uniform Joker gathered that it was the station commander,

“Hello I’m Captain Chino, I’m the Station Commander”

“Hi, I’m Joker” Joker introduced himself

“I-I can’t thank you and your men enough for saving our lives” Chino said with great sadness

“Just doing our duty sir,” Joker said with a hint of sad optimism

“We finally recovered our sensor logs and we pieced together what happened to the Hosnian System” Chino said.

“Good, the Admiral is on his way” Joker said “and he wants answers”.

#star wars #new republic #writing #fan fiction

1 note · View note

noredinktech · 4 years ago

Text

A QA Interview We Never Used

About five years ago I was working on a QA interview process and got the following suggestion: “You’ve just arrived at the airport and have two hours before your flight to Hawaii. Make a list of everything that could go wrong between now and when the flight lands.”

No information about how to assess the candidate’s response was provided, and I had another concern. I remembered growing up in Maine and taking a vacation once a year: we’d rent a house on a lake for a week and drive to it in the family car. For my parents, this type of vacation was a huge luxury, something the generation before had never been able to do; I doubt flying to Hawaii, or anywhere else, ever really entered their minds. At the age of 23, I had flown a total of three times in my life, and always between New England and Arizona.

All this is to say that I was worried about cultural bias in the interview, a worry I admit I wouldn’t had thought of if it had simply been presented as, say, a road trip. But it seemed that frequent flyers, who could readily access detailed images of airport parking lots, terminals, and the planes themselves, would have a distinct advantage that was unrelated to the testing skills I wanted to measure, so I didn’t include it in my set of interviews.

But there was something else I liked about the interview. It got at what it’s like to be a tester. Looking for risk and points of failure. Questioning assumptions. Viewing every transition from moment to moment or state to state (house, car, pre-security, post-security, boarding, flying, deplaning…) with skepticism, wondering where things might come apart and replaying them over and over, looking for faults. And as one of those people who often reflexively lists things that might go wrong in regular life for no reason and when no one asked, perhaps I felt this interview honored a behavior that annoys others. So a few years later, on a flight to San Francisco, I made my own version, which I then promptly forgot about. A few years after that, the QA team was redesigning parts of our interview process, and I remembered it and shared it with my colleagues.

Testing mindset interview

Introduction

In this interview, you’ll be presented with a scenario and asked to offer reasons for how the information presented in the scenario could be possible. To avoid a list of very similar reasons, we ask that you stretch your imagination and try to consider as many different categories of reasons as possible. What does categories mean?

Dividing anything into categories can be arbitrary, of course. To give you an idea of how we’ve divided things into categories, consider the example scenario below (we don’t want to spoil answers by discussing the real scenario yet). The example scenario is similar to the one we’ll present as the real interview question.

Example Scenario

Suppose you were asked to make a list of every danger you might face while hiking through a forest. To start, you might say, I could get attacked by a wolf, or trampled by a deer, or struck from above by a hawk. While these experiences are undoubtedly vastly different, they all involve an animal attacking you, and we’d say they fit into a single category. You might also suggest, for example, that you could be attacked by an empty suit of armor; while somewhat more poetic, this still falls, in our opinion, under the category of “something attacks me”, and doesn’t require a new category to hold it. If you mentioned accidentally ingesting a poisonous mushroom, though, we wouldn’t try to argue that the mushroom belongs in the same class as the other attacking entities — this is a new category, perhaps something along the lines of “ingesting dangerous things”.

For this exercise, try to keep our rough ideas of categories in mind. We’ll ask you to provide examples for a specific situation, and we’ll be looking for how many different categories your examples cover. While it doesn’t hurt you to list many things from the same category, it doesn’t help, either. We encourage you to write down everything that comes to mind, but focus on trying to think of new ideas that aren’t closely related to what you’ve already written.

The Real Scenario

You enter an empty cabin. The entrance is to a kitchen, where a table holds three identical bowls of porridge. On the stovetop, a much larger pot of porridge sits over a low heat. As you brazenly devour the porridge, you notice that the contents of the bowls are not identical after all — the porridge in the first bowl is scalding hot, while the porridge in the second bowl is freezing cold, and the porridge in the third bowl is a pleasant temperature, somewhere between the two extremes of the other bowls.

What are some possible reasons that the porridges were not all the same temperature?

I liked my scenario because I felt it didn’t require too much knowledge from any particular domain. Deep knowledge of cooking, heating and cooling, or fairy tales wouldn’t, I guessed, confer much advantage. It also offered a certain level of whimsy that I felt would serve as an appropriate warning for anyone who might have to work with me.

But a concern remained. It was one of my two concerns from five years ago: how to assess the candidate’s response? Was there a fair and objective way to do it? I intended to go through the candidate’s list (“someone added ice to one bowl and hot water to another”, “something is wrong with my nerve endings”) and check off every distinct category they’d identified (“interference from outside actor”, “error in measurement”), but even if I created a near-perfect list of categories (I felt close), could I really communicate what size of categories I had created to the candidate without giving away answers? (Probably not). When I actually practiced the interview with a colleague, things deteriorated further, as many of her answers fell into a gray area as to whether or not they should count for a particular category.

Time ticks on, cooling our porridge and bringing deadlines rushing to meet us. I kept thinking about the problem, but an epiphany never came. With no solution to problem of a fair scoring system, I scrapped the interview and wrote this blog post instead.

Do you give (or have you taken) any kind of QA interview like this? Let me know on one of the social platforms below.

Alexander Roy QA Analyst | NoRedInk

LinkedIn | Github | Twitter

Thanks to Kristine Horn for her help while I was still trying to salvage the interview, and to Michael Glass and Charlie Koster for reviewing this blog post.

#qa #interviewing #engineering

1 note · View note

kyvir · 5 years ago

Text

Sincerely Yours

Sarada loves her job, and lost an opportunity because the President gave it to his son, Boruto. Why did Boruto take it? Because he heard there was a feisty manager on the team. Watch them fight, argue, tease, flirt, “accidentally” fall in love, and deny it to the bitter end.

Rating: M Pairing: BoruSara

Collaboration with @kairi-chan!

Chapter Four

previous |

Two weeks after starting his new job as Marketing Director, Boruto was up to his neck in paperwork. His father was a great man, he was kind and thoughtful when it came to his family, his friends and his employees too. Everybody loved him because he was so easy to love.

But he was an idiot.

His desperation to have the position filled made a lot more sense once Boruto had enough time to get in and look into everything. It took time and patience, two things Boruto didn’t have much of with everything else to worry about.

Regardless of how annoyed he was, Boruto kept his complaints to himself and did the work, catching up on all the paperwork. Contracts needed renewing and there were several meetings with clients both old and new to handle. Planning around Naruto’s schedule and everyone else’s was even more of a hassle, but Boruto accepted it.

Everything was fine and well until Naruto denied his son’s most recent proposal. That was when Boruto had it and his complaints were about to fly freely.

While dealing with everything else, Boruto was determined to bring his own suggestions for new products. After all, he had a knack for these things and his father knew that. Never in a million years did Boruto think he’d be shot down and the email he received from Naruto was absolutely horrendous.

Boruto,

Yuck. I will never approve of something so atrocious. Burger flavored ramen??? Not a chance.

Get over it,

Dad

“This bastard!” Boruto groaned, half wanting to punch his computer monitor or at least sling it across the room.

Not bothering with a reply, Boruto instead got to his feet and left his office. He’d confront his father directly over this. For the entire week, Boruto had been thinking about this project and working on it along with everything else. He had Inojin make a mock-design, Chocho make a social media plan and Sarada make a promotional campaign plan. He even managed to get Kagura to commit a few accounts without having the full details on the product. Shikadai even made a projection for him, moved around their stocks so there was room for this new flavor to get on the market.

It was a lot of shit.

And Boruto wanted burger flavored ramen.

When he made it to his father’s office, he didn’t knock. He slammed the door open and glared at the man who was on the phone, kicked back in his seat with his feet on his desk. Naruto scrambled around to straighten himself at the intrusion, nearly dropping his phone in the process.

“Uh, Sorry Gaara, we will talk numbers later. Something came up. Call you later?” Naruto rambled once he pulled his phone back to his ear.

“Alright, dear,” Hinata replied and Naruto’s face paled.

He apparently hadn’t realized he’d accidentally put the phone on speaker when he was fumbling with it. Boruto just rolled his eyes as Naruto hung up the phone and set it on his desk.

“What the hell, Dad? We’re having burger flavored ramen added or else.” Boruto would win this battle.

Naruto’s brows furrowed. “Watch your tone, Boruto. You may be my son, but you still report to me here.”

“Right because your email really set a professional standard.” Boruto scoffed. “Do you have any idea how hard I worked on this project and need I remind you who came to whom begging for help.”

Naruto stood from his table, rising a few inches over his son. “I asked HR to hold the position for you. Just because you have it now, doesn’t mean you will get what you want.” Daddy Naruto was gone, and in came the president of Ichiraku Ramen Corp. “We just released a new line. That’s five products. You do realize that releasing another one within the year will cannibalize them, right?”

“So you would be willing to lose this potential? I just laid down a gold mine in front of you… and this isn’t the first time so you already know. There’s a reason you wanted me here.”

Naruto’s gaze softened and he sighed. His son always came up with creative and innovative ideas. Although a burger flavored ramen does sound atrocious, it could have some novelty potential, as long as it was priced and marketed right. He took a few moments, doing the math and thinking of a way to save the new line but get Boruto out of his office with no more whining.

“Six months. Rotational, on K-mart shelves only.” Naruto raised a finger when Boruto looked ready to retort. “And price it at novelty. I need to gain back my capital for creating a new flavor on short notice.”

“That’s ridiculous. But I’ll accept, only because I have other projects that will be on your desk shortly. If anybody needs to get over it, it’s you.” He couldn’t wait to see Naruto’s reaction to his other ideas.

He would hate them all.

Barely a moment after he returned to his own office, his phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket with a curse, but his face and mood softened once he saw it was his sister. He hadn’t been keeping in touch like he should. He hadn’t even went to visit in a week.

“Hima?” He asked after clearing his throat and making sure his tone held none of his earlier annoyance.

“I cooked you dinner last night.”

Shit.

“I made your favorite strawberry cake too.”

Double shit.

“I called you… and when you never answered or showed up, I went by your place with your dinner and the whole cake. But you didn’t answer the door.”

It was all over for him.

“Now, just wait a minute, Hima. Work has been a little hectic and what time did you come by?” He had to have already been asleep, otherwise he would have heard her knocking.

“You haven’t called me in days…”

This wasn’t good at all.

“I’m sorry. Don’t be upset, please.” Boruto frowned just as someone knocked on his office door and he sighed. “Come in,” he knew it wasn’t Sarada whenever she didn’t just peek in immediately. As the door opened, Himawari groaned in frustration, she was mad at him. “I’ll make it up to you, okay? Let me take you to dinner, I’ll buy you something sweet and we can do anything you want after.”

“Flowers?”

“Flowers. Got it.” Boruto said as he glanced over at Chocho who was stepping in quietly.

Himawari giggled. “Okay, bro. Pick me up at six. You better not be late. I love you!”

It wouldn’t be easy getting out of work in time to make it happen, but he would no matter what. “I love you too.” He said and then ended the call to give his attention to Chocho. “What’s up?”

She stood there, mouth hanging open and trying to form a cohesive sentence. But didn’t get to spit it out without making some weird noises first. “I just… umm… the meeting got moved to three? And it’ll be in the Noodle Room. Sarada told me to tell you.”

“Right, thank you.” Boruto smiled at her. “Tell her I’ll be there and please have her reschedule my five o’clock to tomorrow sometime.”

Chocho blinked. “Your five o’clock? Isn’t that with the agency?”

“It is. She’ll make it happen. I have to get out of here early today.” There was no getting around it and he couldn’t get out of the meeting so rescheduling was the only way.

“Okay…” was all she could say before going out of his office and practically running down the hall, back to the marketing department’s area. This was big news. Wait ‘til the gang hears their boss was cancelling an outside meeting for a date.

Once Boruto entered the meeting room, his team was already sitting down, whispering to each other about something he couldn’t hear. Sarada was sitting at his left, not saying a word or looking at his direction. She was typing furiously, writing an email and setting a new meeting invitation.

“Sorry I’m late,” Shikadai came in, holding on to his laptop. “Just had to check something before heading here.” He took a seat next to Boruto and hooked up his screen to the projector, showing an excel file with numbers and rows. The columns were full of the products, numbers showing off their demand per month.

“For the cells in yellow, these are the new products. The blue ones are for the burger ramen.” He looked around before proceeding. “I moved the yellow cells down to the end of the year, spreading some of the demand a little thinner for K-Mart to make some room. This is my first suggestion. But what I really recommend is we limit to three or four products for K-Mart and then slide in the burger to take two shelf spaces instead.”

Chocho and Inojin exchanged looks before looking at Sarada. She did not look happy.

“I know, I know,” Shikadai held his hands up. “It’ll hurt the line, but look, “he opened the other tab and showed more demand for other channels. “I got Kagura to get the supermarkets to take more. That way, we don’t hurt the target, and get to let the Burger shine on the convenience store shelf a little more.”

Boruto grinned. It was a sound argument. Didn’t expect anything less from Shikadai. “I like it.” But before sealing the deal, he looked at Sarada. “Thoughts?”

The look she gave him was cold. Oh, she was angry. About what, he didn’t really know. “We would have to redo the whole campaign for K-Mart,” Sarada started. “The commitment I have for the Point of Sales would have to be terminated and reworked. Did Kagura say he could have the account accept it?”

Boruto pouted. What did the sales guy have to do with it?

Shikadai rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, he’s working on it. Hard to deny when Naruto himself asked the account…”

Sarada’s lips turned into a fine line and she looked at Chocho and Inojin. Both of them looking fearful of their incoming workload. “Well, if Mr. Uzumaki insists, we can only make sure it’s launched well.”

Things were going as smoothly as they could, but Sarada was definitely upset with him about something. Boruto didn’t have time to question her about it, having less than an hour to complete his work for the day after the meeting ended. He was rushing and stressed, but as long as it was for Himawari’s sake, it was fine.

It was still after five before he hurried out of his office, already calling her on his way towards the elevator. She sent him to voicemail, probably thinking he was going to cancel on her which made him feel even worse.

“Hima don’t be like this. I’m leaving work now, I’ll be to you before six. Be ready for me okay?” He ended the call and finally reached the elevator, quickly pressing the button to call it. He had no idea where he would get flowers from on the way, so he was now trying to search nearby places on his phone.

He heard heels clicking on the floor and immediately looked up, it was Sarada, on the way to the ladies’ room. Perfect.

“Hey, Sarada!” Boruto beamed as he jogged over to her. “Do you know of any good flower shops near here?”

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, face impassive but still obviously not happy about needing to interact with him. “Flowers? It depends. What’s the occasion?”

“Huh what?”

Sarada rolled her eyes and drawled, “Celebratory? Did someone pass? Or, did you screw up and need to apologize?” She waved her hands around. “Like that.”

Still a little stressed and worried, Boruto didn’t even think about her sassing him. “The latter.”

Again with her lips being in a thin, fine line. “Inojin’s mother has a flower shop down at Seventh. For whatever the occasion.”

“Awesome! That’s on my way. Thanks for the help, Sarada. I’m sure I’ll find something to make her happy there.” He grinned and winked at her before hurrying back to the elevator. He’d missed it, but it was still waiting thankfully and he was able to get on his way.

If he was late, he’d never hear the end of it.

The flower shop was only ten minutes from him. He walked inside with flowers on his brain. So many options, but what would she prefer? Definitely yellow. Sunflowers maybe? His head hurt from overthinking as he opened the door. A bell chimed to announce his entry and he walked in, inhaling the calming aroma of many different flowers.

Boruto walked through, looking at some arrangements that were already made for the day and then at all the different selections they had. These things were difficult for men, especially doting brothers.

A lady with long blond hair and a pretty smile came out from the back and grinned at him. “Hello, dear. What can I get for you?”

“Wow, you must be Inojin’s mother. I see who he gets his looks from.” Boruto grinned back. “I’m looking for something sweet and yellow. Do you have sunflowers by chance?”

The lady’s hand went up to her cheek and giggled at his compliment. “Oh thank you. I’m Ino, by the way. I’m sorry, but we just ran out. I have some daisies and carnations. What would you prefer?”

Thinking quick, he replied, “Daisies.”

“Okay,” she walked around the counter and fetched some from a base nearby. “Do you have a budget I need to keep in mind?”

Judging by how upset Himawari sounded earlier? “No, go crazy.”

Ino’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wow, not many young men your age say that around here. Must be a really special one, huh?” Ino picked up more flowers along the way and laid them all on the counter.

“Oh yeah. She is. She gets what she wants, always.” Boruto shrugged. He had no plans to change that either. He loved spoiling his sister.

The lady nodded and continued arranging the flowers for him, it wasn’t even done yet but it was starting to look like a huge one. “Known her long?”

“Her whole life.” Boruto nodded and chuckled softly.

Ino hummed and smiled. “She must adore you, then. Quite young, I assume?” She teased. “You look to be just as old as my son.”

“Yeah, she’s a few years younger than me.” Boruto smiled as he stared at the forming arrangement. He was damn glad she hadn’t been his older sister. She wouldn’t have been as cute then.

Ino chuckled and placed the ribbon on the wrapping. “Do you need a card, dear?”

“Yes, please.” He said and when she pulled one out, Boruto pulled his sunflower pen out of his chest pocket and wrote a simple, I love you, before putting the pen back and handing over the card for her to finish up. “It looks great, she’s going to be so happy.”

“Any girl would be,” Ino smiled sweetly and showed him his bill. Boruto thought he was seeing double but even if he blinked twice, it was still the same amount. It didn’t matter, though. He wanted the best flowers for his sister, and these were definitely it. He handed his card over, and Ino processed the payment quickly. When she returned it, she wished him a good night and watched him leave the flower shop with a large bouquet of flowers.

By some miracle, Boruto pulled into his parents driveway with ten minutes to spare. He finally breathed a sigh of relief as he exited his car, flowers in hand. Himawari has never called him back, obviously wanting him to stress over her even more. She really liked giving him a hard time, but he still adored everything about her. The door was unlocked and he let himself in, peering around all the flowers to look for her.

“Hima! I’m home.” Boruto called as he walked through the home, going into the kitchen first.

She came in as soon as he set the flowers on the counter. “Ooh, pretty!” She cooed and danced over, bumping him aside so she could get a closer look—and a feel, and a smell. “Wow, Boruto. They’re perfect. You came straight from work but at least you look nice. Where are we going for dinner?”

“I’ll take you anywhere you want.”

“Okay, you’re forgiven.” She grinned and hugged him tight.

Himawari decided on having burgers at their old favorite spot. It was a good thing that she had adapted to liking almost everything he liked and even if he was willing to spoil her with anything else, she still took him into consideration. She was an angel like that. She deserved the world and Boruto was here to give it to her.

They took their time over dinner, catching up on his life at work, her life at school and their mom. Boruto hadn’t been to see her recently either and had only seen his dad at work for work. He knew he had to do better and he was going crazy without his mom's cooking anyway and Himawari’s too. She’d learned a lot over the years, things Boruto’s mind just couldn’t seem to comprehend.

So, he promised to join them over the weekend for dinner to catch up after he’d taken Himawari for ice cream and then to the park just to walk by the water there. It was late, but he was able to see his mom for a moment and his dad, without them talking about anything to do with work. It was nice and even though it was a work night, he didn’t mind getting back home late. It had been a good night, Himawari was happy and he had enjoyed himself as well.

Now if only the next day wouldn’t be so bad at work, he would be in a good place.

#borusara #borusara fanfiction #borusara multichapter #Sincerely Yours #Chapter four #borusara office au #double tsundere #boruto and sarada #Kairi-chan #ss-tyytyy #collaboration #Hima is a spoiled princess #Boruto making burger flavored ramen a thing #Sarada is so over him

38 notes · View notes