#4 fucking hours and this job managed to piss me off with the first 30 minutes

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

everyone when I log on <3

#HEY YALLLLL 😌 #first of all excuse any typos I don’t have the patience to correct shit <3 #had work today til 2 cause I split a shift with a coworker and this bitch was really abt to call out on the shift #I literally laughed out loud and was like ‘idc I’m leaving at 2 <3’ #had to call my fav manager to tell her abt it and she was like yeah you’re responsibility is only #until 2 so you leave at 2 and I’ll work it out with her #like THANK YOU #and then the manager above her is the one that watches the cameras usually and when I was discussing it with my coworker #I looked up at the cams and was like ‘I’m sorry but I’m leaving at 2 whether she’s coming or not <3’ #I’d already had enough in those 4 hours cause the manager that’s in charge of the clinics in the county I’m in #(which is usually who I report to) had off today and didn’t tell me she was sending someone in for me to train #so in walks this girl wearing a shirt with our logo in it and both the doctor and I were like 🧍🏻‍♀️ who are you 🧍🏻‍♀️ #and my fav manager is in charge of the county next to ours but when my main manager isn’t on I report to her #and when I reached out to her abt it she obv didn’t know anything either bc she wasn’t the one that hired her #so my point is my main manager isn’t cut out to be one bc every time I reach out to her I get attitude #and she’s backed up on our schedules AND she didn’t tell me she was sending me someone to train so I had no idea what I was supposed to do #bc I don’t have the training paperwork she’s supposed to send it to me #4 fucking hours and this job managed to piss me off with the first 30 minutes #and now ppl are starting to come over from our most popular clinic bc ‘it’s always too busy so the wait time is long’ ‘the dr rushes’ #blah blah etc and like yeah duh bc that clinic gets the most business #so in those 4 hours I saw more patient than what I’ve seen in other clinics for the full 9 hrs #hated it <3 and I had to juggle training someone new <3 and I was almost forced to stay the whole 9 hours <3 #good news is I have a job interview somewhere else on Tuesday which I’ll probably get and they’re willing to mold to my hours & pay me more #so hopefully that goes well so I can dip this shithole and get my weekends/my life back #bc even on my days off I can’t have peace cause it’s almost guaranteed they’ll try #to call me in 💀 like be so serious #N E WAYS MANIFEST IT GOES WELL FOR ME SO I CAN SKEDADDLE

[conniemb]

A lil vent cuz college is stressing me out:

Bruh like why I need an education to do shit. Why can't I just do a one year course in something I'm interested enough to jus sit through for a year or two. College kills passion. I've been in college for like 3 years now doing two different course and while I have learnt a lot from it I've also learned I can figure a lot of this shit out myself using online resources. All college does is make me feel unmotivated and stressed. I haven't felt a sense of accomplishment with my college work since first semester of first year and I'm so tired of having to work so hard for something that doesn't actually feel like it's getting me anywhere. It pisses me off that I have to waste 4 years of my life slaving away at work I don't wanna do just so I can get a piece of paper at the end of it that says "I spent the mandatory 1600+ euros to say I'm qualified to do this thing pls hire me" I don't even wanna work in a corporate job or office space but I feel like I need my degree in case I need to fall back on that kinda job. I wanna work freelance and be creative and just do the things I wanna do. What's wrong with working some boring ass job I spend like 30 hours a week on so I can pay rent and fund my hobbies with and just be content with that. I keep having these thoughts about dropping out and just working for a while till I get back on my feet financially and then doing a diploma course in a similar field for a year once I've had a due enough break from education and just get my certificate and see where that takes me. But there's all this pressure and expectations to do things the normal way, go to college, trek along for 4 years, then get a real job and be successful. Why can't I just be content doing what I enjoy doing. Why do I have to wrench myself through the cogs of industry standard jobs and companies just to have it squeeze all the passion out of me. Ive been reading so many articles lately about how ppl used to just do a one year certificate course in their field and then go out into the world nd get jobs and be able to work freelance, people who I know personally were able to do this. But nowadays without your 1600 receipt of education no one even bats an eye at your job application. It's all bullshit. Total fucking bullshit. I just wanna be financially stable for a few years man even if doing so costs me my education or postpones it for a few years. Just take things at my own pace. I keep playing around with the idea of if I actually manage to pay off and pass this semester deferring my next year and just working instead. My sister did that and she seems to be doing okay. And who knows when I do come back after the year of work I might be ready to commit myself to the next 3 years. Or maybe I will just commit to doing my 1 year certificate and trying out that life style. I'm putting a 3 month time period on my decision I think a hypothetical one. See how the next three months pan out. Then decide. Hopefully I'll find my answer then.

[princess-pill-enjoyer]

life's been okay. nothing special. days just keep on going. ive had a job for bout 2 weeks. ig thats not really an achievement tbh.

before this, that work from home place i was barely working, prolly 5-10 hours a week. and i'd slither out of those where possible anyway. this one week i worked a whopping 2 hours within 2 weeks. I was planning on killing myself and occasionally tried to all throughout having those jobs so i wasn't really worried about the consequences

before that the only other in person job i had was for my ex best friend. she worked there so i applied and got a job o work with her. only for her to quit 2 weeks after i got in whiich lead me to quit prolly a week n a half later cause i finally got fed up with the manager.

so now, even tho it ain't the longest ive held down a place, its the first that i really cared to put in effort to hold a job.

im semi celebrating but im honestly miserable. my feet hurt so fucking bad so it literally doesnt matter how good my hours are i never want to leave my bed. the people up there are so cliquey and on my 2nd day out of training one of my coworkers went off on me for going too slow and "not putting in my part". theyre starting to give me longer and longer shifts. i went from working 3-4 8 hour shifts per week to working 3 doubles just like that. they sooo generously give an hour and a half break in between the 6:30-3 and 4:30-8 shift but.. who in their right mind is even leaving atp? i live too far for that. i'd be home for at most an hour. waste of gas.

and to me what's worse, this whole situation is exactly what i've been avoiding. i knew it'd come down to this someday. but what alternative do i have?

HA. you know as a kid, i never understood addiction. I never thought I'd have to deal with it. By the time I was 8 I knew I'd kill myself someday. if i ever felt bad, that'd be what i'd do. no need to force myself to do something i didnt really wanna do. but now it seems so easy. i don't know what i wanna do from here. i hate my job. i hate my home life. i dont like to talk to my friends anymore. im bored of games. im bored of music. bored of tv.

whisking the days away doing what i have to would be a lot easier if i didnt have to be fully present for all of this. just something to pass the time until i have a better handle on what's the next move. right now, the only thing i can do is save up money. i have shit to pay off if i wanna keep a good credit score and i have things i need to buy. what's me hating every second gonna change?

though i know it's a slippery slope. abusing shit aint gon work out as smooth as I wish it would. I'll get addicted and then I'll get used to feeling that way so it'll take more for me not to get annoyed. then it'll turn back to me immediately running back to it for every minor situation. and honestly with the job i got i'd just have to hope i would be able to push through it without it being noticeable

i'm not happy i stopped. i feel like had i still been on dph i would've known for a fact how to make myself look normal. i could be gone out my mind but long as i get the shit right i could just daze through the days. but ya know. now. i ratted myself out

and now im stuck.

nothing more for me to do. nothing else i could be doing. nothing else i should be worried about other than making money

I never understood why adults always told me i'd miss being a kid since i was always struggling so bad. all they ever said is that my problems then were gonna feel like nothing once i was an adult. but they were wrong. i guess for now. but all i wish now is that i used all that freetime back when nooo one woulda suspected anything if i was away for a lil while. back when i wasnt ful grown and it'd prolly take a whooole lot less to finish the job

but here we are. forced to keep going and doing what i can to suppress what i really wanna do

ah speaking of which... i got pissed the other day and i tossed one of my drawers and broke it. then broke my bottle for my vitamins by throwing it to the ground. then i accidentally knocked over this container of beads and instead of just sweeping it back into the thing and reducing the mess, i just kicked it as hard as i could and tore the container apart. there's still beads everywhere

that is something i can't force myself to contain anymore. everything else i've been dealing with fine but when im pissed im pissed. i gotta get that under control too

[darylspissslit]

I'm 4 weeks into my job and I already wanna quit. It wasn't a job I wanted it's just the first place that gave me a job. They haven't given me any proper training on registers so I still barely know what I'm doing, I have a fucked up schedule working all kinds of fucked up hours, I'm down as part time but I'm working full time and they fucked me on my first check already, not to mention my "bosses" are literally high school and college kids that run around the store with their little group of work friends just ignoring their job so when we need them to come do something at the registers they take 30 minutes to come over and help or they run off when they see we need help AND they aren't around to send people on their breaks so then all the cashier's are pissed and annoyed cause they haven't gotten to go on break because they can't leave without the shift managers permission and they're nowhere to be seen so when we take our breaks late or don't take them at all we get in trouble by the manager. Did I mention Ive been there 4 WEEKS and haven't been properly trained on the one thing I've been hired to do!!! I thought I liked it there but I don't cause I'm not learning anything and I feel stupid

[dilact]

Genuinely need to start applying to other jobs before I impulsively quit the next time someone pisses me off.

RANT POST (cw for part 4: animal death )

We have a thing to put notes in for the manager to to read out during meetings with shift supervisors and when he got to the one I wrote about how he's not scheduling enough people for the afternoon he said "just deal with it" and that meeting just so happened to be on a day when we only had 3 people for my entire 7 hour shift. "Just deal with it" how about Tuesday when you have only 2 people scheduled for the last hour I don't show up and you can "just deal with it" You Stupid Ass. Go back to waffle house. Soon I'm going to submit for a leave of absence and if he doesn't approve it I'm telling him his options are accept it or I'll quit and he can "just deal" with finding someone else to cover my next 3 weeks of schedules. GO BACK TO WAFFLE HOUSE.

Edit: RANT POST PT 2

So not only was that a horrible day bc we were scheduled bad but Stupid and Incompetent decided to be extra bad at their jobs that day so when I got there I was put on drive thru with no communication about what was happening or how things were going, right as the meeting started. Thanks, Stupid! I love having to look at every single thing thats marked out to see if we actually have it! And then after the meeting, Stupid did the exact same thing to Incompetent! Just handed him the keys and walked out. So then Incompetent didn't know what was going on. And he decided "Hey! Let's send someone home 30 minutes early so I don't have to give him a break!" Because obviously it's better to send someone home early by the exact amount of time their break would be. Of course. Even though he said he could stay extra to help us out. Oh! But Incompetent is bad at his job! Obviously. So he sent him home 1!!!!! Minute!!!!! Before he hit the time required to get a 30.

Part 3:

Other unrelated coworker pissed me off for a little bit today bc she decided to stand 1 foot from me and make drinks because she decided I was taking too long. So, the drinks. They were frappuccinos. The first step is to add the coffee. Then the milk. Then you put it in the frap blender. Then you add the rest. MAN. why. She literally put in the milk. Then poured the milk into the FOAM BLENDER. I said "what are you doing?" BC OBVIOUSLY WHAT IS THAT. and she decided to tell me that she was making drinks because I was taking too long. I said I need you to go away. She said "no, you need to hurry up". GO BACK TO DRIVE THRU YOU IDIOT WHAT IS THIS. I said "you need to go away or you can do bar" BC WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU. WE'RE SLAMMED. so she finished the 2 fraps she had started. Which was confusing bc I watched her make them wrong. It was also two of the same drink and she blended them separately. But then she left so it was fine after that.

Part 4: this one is sad

So earlier this week I signed up for a free trip to DC with flight and hotel paid for yay. Today it got canceled. I already took time off for it so I told my mom it got canceled and that I would come visit her instead. When I told her she said she was at the emergency vet. Then her dog died.

#bad couple of days!! #rant post #vent post

[libraford]

We interrupt the feral celebration of ousting an oligarch to bring you a story about Yeehaw and his Branch of Mystery.

  It has been a while since we last had some co-worker drama, but man- has it been a weird summer. I mean... we all had a weird summer in 2020, but I don't think I was really expecting this particular... flavor of weird?

 This is a story about Yeehaw, but it starts off with a story about Aggie.

 Aggie was someone we were excited to hire and part of our excitement was that it's rare to find someone with prior floral experience and we'd concluded at this point that it does no one any good to be picky about new hires in the middle of a pandemic. So finding someone who knew the difference between a carnation and a rose was a big deal for us.

 I say that in jest, but saying that we do 'on-the-job training' means that we've had to explain that yes- the flower in my hand that looks like a carnation is a carnation and not some other flower that looks like carnation but is not a carnation. Floristry is a very straightforward practice and for the most part a rose is a rose and a daisy is a daisy and if someone asks for those things, you give it to them.

 The hard part is, as always, making them look good together.

 Which is why we were pleased with Aggie- who previously did weddings for her friends and seemed to have a basic understanding of how to do things with her hands. We were happy to have her aboard.

 ... until you gave her criticism.

 She made her vases embarrassingly short, and if you tried to tell her how to fix it, she'd snap back with "I'm not DONE yet."

 She was done until you said something.

 If you gave her an order for two dozen white roses, she would take it upon herself to mix white and yellow roses together 'because it looks better.'

 It did not.

 Hashtag: #selftaught

 When a client asks for all white roses, there is likely a reason they asked for all white. Given that 90% of our work is funerals, it stands to reason that they are asking for all white because that is a traditional color for mourning. Working with a client means doing exactly what they asked for. Doing a wedding for your friends may get you high praise from people who trust you to work in the same aesthetic as them, but in a shop setting you are being paid to follow things to the letter. Doing so shows that you can follow directions, and they may come back next time.

 You don't know customer entitlement until you've been torn another asshole for leaving out a single rose.

 This seemed to never occur to her, and so criticism was a painful realization that perhaps she wasn't perfect at an art that was exceptionally susceptible to criticism. There were plenty of opportunities to make something in her own aesthetic, it wasn't like she was being stifled. There was a considerable amount of downtime where she filled the front cooler with her own creations- enigmatically giving each of them their own names like "Autumn Walk" or "First Snowfall." (This is not something that we do, on the whole.)

 Not very many of those sold.

 But I think what bugged me the most is that she only ever designed. She didn't take out the trash, she didn't answer phones, she never helped customers. She just... did flowers. Nothing else.

 Oh... and the chatter.

 "Do you travel? Oh, you simply MUST go to Bali sometime! You've never been to Asia? Well, there's nothing like achieving inner peace at a Buddhist temple on a mountaintop in Nepal. They have temples here in Ohio, but it's nothing like the real thing! You say you've never even been off the continent? Well, what are you waiting for? You only live once, you know!"

 Ma'am... we're in the middle of a pandemic. Ma'am... I only get paid so much...

 While trying to relate, I talked about my summer in Montana and she gave me the BIGGEST stank-face. "Montana? Ew, WHY?"

 Look, lady- I lived on a mountaintop next to an active, world-destroying volcano system. If that's not cool, I don't know what is.

 But thankfully, she only worked on weekends. See, this was her fun job. The job she does to stay social during a pandemic and flex her creative muscles while she makes money at her much more lucrative,but boring,HR job. So I only had to see her twice a month when I was manager on duty.

 Then she got fired from her weekday job and went full-time at the flower shop. Poor thing wasn't used to waking up at 7am every day. She was full of suggestions.

 "I think it would be easier for me if we only opened at like... 11am."

"Don't you think we should be taking proper photos of our work? All we would need is a nice camera and a soft lighting setup. Couldn't be much more than $1000."

"Oh I know! We should be doing inventory on tablets instead of writing things down!"

 Okay, you go buy those things then. It took her about a week of making those suggestions to realize that she wasn't real clear on how things worked around here and stopped. She became quiet, less enthusiastic about her 'fun' job now that she wasn't immediately the star of the show.

 Enter Yeehaw.

 We were excited about Yeehaw, too. He didn't just have experience with flowers- he had experience with a flower shop. He gave a good interview, he seemed like he knew what he was doing and was very passionate about flowers. He was definitely an entire hippie, but about 1/3 of all plant people are. Most importantly, we still had like three spots to fill left from our pre-Covid staff.

 Hired.

 There was an overlap of about a week where Aggie and Yeehaw worked at the same time. His work was... immaculate. Just... astonishingly beautiful work. You didn't even have to show him how to make anything. He just... knew.

 Well, Aggie didn't  like that much- we had only nice things to say about this new guy but all she ever got was criticism. And if we complimented him on something he made, he would give a little 'namaste' bow. And I could see her fuming with rage each time he did this.

 One day, she rushed into the back to take a phone call and any time someone went back there for a vase she would lower her voice as if keeping a deep secret. Twenty minutes later, she called Grandpa into the back as well to discuss something. Ten minutes later, Aggie left the building with her Live, Laugh, Love bag, looking pissed.

 "Where did Aggie go," I asked Grandpa.

 "She got a new job," she said. "Doing HR somewhere."

 "She didn't even say good-bye," Blue said, appearing unsurprised.

 And so we went on with out lives without really putting much further thought into Aggie, apart from the occasional 'you simply MUST visit Bali' line thrown in for bougie emphasis.

 Which brings us to the next part of the story, and that is Yeehaw.

 There are some details to know about Yeehaw that are kind of difficult to fit into a story neatly. Here is a brief list that may come in handy to know later.

-He lives with his mother.

-He drives a Tesla.

-He can afford the Tesla because he was in a terrible wreck that had him hospitalized, and a lawsuit was won.

-Because of this, he has two screws in his head at the temples.

-Unrelated, he has hair that goes all the way down to his back.

- And...

 "Grandpa, we need to tell you something," Blue said. "In private."

 Blue and Kali pulled Grandpa aside while Yeehaw slowly put together a funeral order. "Grandpa, there's no polite way to put this: Yeehaw is drunk as fuck."

 "He smells like whiskey," Kali said.

 "He's stumbling everywhere."

 "And he won't stop... burping."

 Grandpa paused. "There's something I need to tell you," she said, and she reached for a manila folder. "Yeehaw has something called... what's it called..." She leafed through the file and produced a paper, reading from it. "Auto-brewery Syndrome. His body actually produces alcohol anytime he eats bread or sugar. If he's drunk, it's because he can't help it."

 We each had a chance to go over the doctor's note, verifying that yes- that sure does look official. Everyone had questions, but it did answer the one I had about why he was sitting in the break room literally drinking peanut butter from the jar.

 So that was incredibly interesting and we no longer asked about the burping or why he was so slow.  

 However, the fact that he was so slow was extremely frustrating. Our average number of orders runs approximately 100 per-day. This can be eased somewhat when we have a full-staff with five designers- an average of 20 designs per person in an 8-hour day, 3 per hour.

 But it's a fine line some days, and if one person cannot keep up it turns into a struggle for all of us.  

 We did our best to accommodate. We gave him all the day-ahead orders so that we wouldn't be behind and he'd have all the time he'd need to make his gorgeous pieces.

 We were willing to make it work.

 A number of factors came into play one day, but most notably: Yeehaw's Tesla wouldn't start and he had to take the bus. So he was late.

 I think I saw him make one entire item in the two hours that we were in the same room. He went to lunch around 12:30, I took mine around 1:00. I saw him stumble back in from lunch, looking... out of it. Just... absolutely incomprehensible- mumbling, barely upright, his hair out of the bun, quite possibly sleepwalking- who knows?

 I saw him for that brief Sasquatch moment... and that was the last that I saw him that day. It was around 4:00 that  Grandpa asked the question:

 "Where's Yeehaw?"

 And no one had an answer. We all had places that we thought we'd seen him: cleaning the cooler, in the break room, heading to the bathroom... but no one had really... seen him since he stumbled back in around 1:30.

 We checked all these places.

 None of them.

 The person who actually managed to find him was Sarge, who noticed his feet sticking out from behind the bushes behind the building.

 "Huh," he said, presumably. He gave the feet a light kick and Yeehaw slowly sat back up. "Hey dude. You... okay, there? They're lookin' for you inside."

 Yeehaw mumbled something to Sarge and got to his feet, stumbling back into the shop without further interaction. He appeared into the workspace, holding a branch in front of his face for mysterious reasons. There were still twigs entangled in his long hair.

 "Where were you at," Grandpa asked, concerned.

 "Oh, I was in the bathroom," he lied from behind the branch of mystery. "I'm pretty tired. Is it okay if I go home?"

 Bewildered, Grandpa gave him permission to leave. It was soon after he left that Scout found his phone in the empty sink. "Who's trying to wash their phone," he asked in the loud manner that is characteristic of old white men. It rang while in his hand and one of our designers snatched it from him. It was his mother.

 "Hello," said the designer. "Yeehaw went home early, but he left his phone behind. Can you bring it home to him?" Mom agreed, she was just over at Trader Joe's anyhow.

 We thought, of course, that we were doing something smart and nice. Yeehaw's mom looks just about what you would expect the mother of a 30-year-old hippie that drives a Tesla to look. Grandpa, in a polite way, explained that he'd fallen asleep in a bush. To which Mom seemed neither surprised nor concerned about his behavior.

 "Okay. I'll be at Hallmark."

 Somewhere between the bus stop and Bexley, Yeehaw must have realized that his phone was not with him and so he came back looking for it. Despite his mother being literally in the same strip mall as we were, he seemed irritated that we'd taken the initiative to make sure his phone got to him.

 "Well, I bet if you just went down to Hallmark she'd give you your phone and probably give you a ride home."

 He mumbled something and then left.

 This seems like a decent place to pause, because him leaving the second time in the day should be the end of the story. However... at 5:00 in the evening there was still two hours left in the work day and from past experience... that is plenty of time for a lot of things to happen.

 The thing to happen was a phone call.

 "Hi, this is Jade from the main store. We've gotten... some... interesting phone calls. Is there... a... hmm... is there a dead body out in front of your store?"

 Pause.

 "We'll take care of it, bye."

 Who wants to be the one to poke the cadaver on the sidewalk? A volunteer from the audience! Ms Crowe: won't you come down?!

 I have had it planted firmly in my mind that Crowe certainly understands the concept of fear but does not recognize it. Apart from being one of our most reliable drivers, she is also a performer, a street medic, an activist, and most notably... a fire-breather.

 You have your hobbies.

 Point is- she's brave enough to check to see if the person laying on the sidewalk was dead or simply overdosed.

 As it turns out, it was Yeehaw- curled up in the fetal position with his arm covering his face.

 "Hey," Crowe said, poking him with her foot. "Heeeeeeey," she said again but more firmly this time. He moved, blinking in the evening the sun. "Buddy, you can't be laying around on the sidewalk. You gotta move on."

 Again, he slowly got to his feet. At this time, his mother emerged from Hallmark to see him talking with Crowe. A group of four people escorted him into Mom's car while he stopped every few feet to perform another 'namaste' bow.

 You think this is the end. But what have we learned?

 There's always more.

 He came in the next day as if none of this had happened. Conversation was difficult because we both desperately needed to know what the fuck happened and also did not want to trigger something. So we didn't bring it up. He apologized for leaving early: chronic fatigue syndrome, you know.

 Other places would have fired him, but we're a very forgiving workplace. Falling asleep on company time is not, in any way, the worst thing that someone has done at this location while still keeping their job. There was Sugar and her drugs, there was the dude that used the company van to pick up prostitutes (this was before my time), there was the guy that screamed at customers over the phone... it's a long list.

 The primary concern of our employers is whether or not you are a reliable person. If you routinely show up for your job and do the work, you're going to be okay at least for a little bit. And Yeehaw, for all his impeccable fuckery, at least showed up every day.

 We kept this at the back of our minds.

 One day, after the Day We Found Him In a Bush was behind us, one of the designers mentioned that they'd seen where Aggie works now. It was not in HR.

 It was our major competitor.

 Now, Grandpa knows this competitor well. She knows all her competition. It is the nature of a lot of florists to, once they've gotten sick of one place, move on to the next one and spill the beans on their operations there. So Grandpa gets the dirt on everyone.

 This particular shop was very regimented. You don't wing it- you follow the recipe as listed. He's been known to pick discarded flowers up off the floor and tell you exactly how much  money you're costing the company by letting it fall, to the cent. If you get so far as to make casket sprays, he will take your first one and chuck it across the room if it even looks like the stems are in there too loosely.

 This is what I mean about us being an easy place to work.

 Hashtag: #ohfuck.

 People come in and out of your life like that, in little ways. Sometimes you just have to have a little laugh at it. But what I thought was funny was that she felt the need to keep her new employer a secret, as though we would get jealous or tattle. Curious thing.

 Now that the glamour of Yeehaw's arrangements had worn off, we were starting to see more and more odd behaviors that didn't seem completely related to drunkenness.

 "Did you just fart?"

 "No, that was a spider barking."

 Amazing.

 Conversation with him was becoming... difficult. As I sat in the break room with my quick lunch and he drank soup out of a mayonnaise jar, he mentioned his area of study in college.

 "Cognitive Psychology and Hindu Philosophy, huh? That's an interesting combination."

 "Yeah," he said, funneling an amount of squash soup down his throat. "It'll take the rest of the world about 100 years before they catch up to where I am."

 I sat, posed in front of my beef and broccoli which I was eating with a fork, trying to process a logical reason why the rest of the world will be sleeping in a bush in one hundred years. "Uh... huh."

 This was followed by another thirty minutes of silence where I desperately wanted to know what he meant by that but didn't want to be the one to ask him.

 People will tell you that a hippie is generally an ineffective, benign kind of person who chants 'love love, peace peace' in a circle and consider that to be an action for change. But I can say with absolute certainty that I have met some downright egotistical hippies in my life. Those were lessons in bias- which I will have to save for other times.

 Eventually, Grandpa became frustrated with his slowness. We presumed that his speed of choice was a combination of his meticulous nature and his various ailments, but with the Christmas season coming upon us it was becoming much more than a series of symptoms.

 Previous persons who lacked speed were chatty, would play on their phone, or get distracted. But Yeehaw... Yeehaw simply moved like a tranquilized sloth. He slowly picked off each leaf, each thorn, each guard petal and took a minute for each action. He would put in his greens and then contemplate it powerfully for ten minutes before putting any flowers in... slowly.

 In the time spent doing this, I had already made something of a similar size and was starting on the second one.

 It was during one of these times that Grandpa finally said something.

 "Yeehaw, that spray is due in thirty minutes. Is there a way you can go any faster?"

 He looked up from his greens, held one carnation to his face, and said:

 "If you wanted me to move faster, you would pay me better."

 Let me start by saying that we do not get paid well. We don't. Compared to other flower shops in our city, we are probably the lowest-paid. This is something that the company is starting to work on with benefits and raises, but any amount of change takes time. (And its still better paying than when I worked in retail. But that's another book.)

 Yeehaw had been here for exactly one month. I don't know a single workplace that gives you a raise after one month and still lets you sleep on the clock without firing you. He knew what he was getting paid when we hired him.

 So anyways, he slowly grinds down our nerves to a very fine dust- burping, farting, falling asleep on his feet, staring intensely into space, talking about how much he should be making but isn't, bragging about his enlightenment, and generally just slowing down production.

 And then Grandpa had her well-earned vacation week. Blue was in charge for the most part and the week leading up to Halloween is generally pretty slow, so it was a good week for her to have a break with few mishaps.

 Eh... hehe. Yeah.

 Yeehaw... disappeared again. We checked the cooler, we checked the break room, we checked the bushes out back, we checked the sidewalk out front.

 He was in the bathroom.

 So we left it.

 He was still in the bathroom an hour later.

 We had one of the male drivers pound on the door to check on him. When Yeehaw opened the door to the men's room, there was a wad of toilet paper on the floor that he'd been using as a pillow.

 If I may pause here to explain- our men's room is disgusting. I have deep cleaned it several times only for it to become a germ-fest once more in a matter of hours. I don't ask who is peeing all over the floor because, honestly, I have no desire to know what grown man can't aim his willy in the right direction.

 So in order to fall asleep in the bathroom, you have to be willing to sleep in pee. During a pandemic.

 He reappeared in the workroom, put his apron back on, looked around at all of us still working and said: "Wow, it must be really hard to get fired here."

 It was at this point that Blue informed Grandpa.

 "Tell him that he's fired," Grandpa said, clearly 1001% done with this.

 "I'm not going to fire him," Blue said. "I don't think I can fire anyone."

 So she had the driver that found him do it, which was confusing for all of us. He ended up calling Grandpa to clarify. And by 'clarify,' I definitely mean 'beg for his job back.' A synopsis of the 20 minute phone call went like this:

 "What do you mean, I'm fired?"

 "Just that. You're fired. I'm tired of it, Yeehaw. You don't work here anymore."

 "Why?"

 "What do you mean 'why?' You spend all day making a total of three arrangements and then you wander off somewhere and fall asleep."

 "I can't help it if I have chronic fatigue syndrome!"

 "This is a physical job. If your body can't handle an 8-hour shift without falling asleep for two hours, this isn't the job for you. Tell me: where is that fair to the girls that you do 3% of the work while they pick up the slack and you wander off to sleep on the clock?"

 "I simply do not care about them."

 "You don't care that you're shoving all the work on your coworkers, and that's why you're fired."

 "I wish you'd given me a warning."

 "Tell me, Yeehaw: how many employers can you find that will allow you to sleep on the clock for two hours and let you off with a warning?"

 End of discussion.

 Now, you're probably wondering where Aggie comes back into this. Just hold tight, I'll get there.

 The Sunday after he was fired, he came in to pick up his paycheck. I was busy handling a minor emergency where one of our funeral homes forgot to order a spray and I had to make one as fast as I could. We held a brief conversation while I made the spray in a hurry.

 "I'm here to pick up my check," he said while I greened the spray and leafed through the paychecks simultaneously.

 "Here you go," I said, handing it to him without much fanfare. I presumed that he was looking for sympathy or some kind of followup or... I don't know. Sorry you suddenly care about your job?

 "So what are your next plans," one of the designers asked, trying to coax more information out of him while I did the work of three people.

 "It's kind of funny," he said slowly... as he did all things. "I've only ever been fired from flower shops." He paused, thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to go apply to the shop in Bexley that Aggie went to."

#as the world turnips

[mylifeasaserver]

The last straw

I showed up for my shift about 30 minutes early today because I had other errands to run in the area. There were people milling about out front - a clear indicator we were on a wait.

For 30 minutes, that’s not my problem. I see a day shift supervisor - we have multiple on day shift and none on nights - walk out of the building, see my car, and disappear back in. Moments later here comes the new night manager out to my car asking me to come in early.

No thanks, I’m busy checking to see if my background check is done and sending memes to Potato. Seriously, leave me alone until I’m supposed to be here.

The bell tolls for me, and in I go. I discover that the new night manager sat me 4 parties before I got there and told them it would be 30 minutes for service. They agreed, because that was still shorter than the wait they were quoted. They let 3/4 of day shift go home early for reasons I don’t want to even try to understand. Lovely.

After attempting to boil his brain using only my mind, the new night manager gets the idea that I may be pissed off at this stupidity. He asks if he can help. I tell him that he’s done enough.

I get my tables taken care of and more servers come in. We come off the wait...and I stop getting tables. Everybody else is running around with plenty to do, my section is clean and empty. 

No tables means no pay, so I fuck off in the break room. The new night manager gives me shit for not running food. I tell him when I start getting tables again I’ll start doing server shit - but the $2 and change per hour I get don’t buy him labor, just me showing up with the promise of pay.

He was trying to teach me a lesson. If that lesson was that I don’t give a fuck and he’s a moron of the highest order, then he’s a great teacher. This is when I decided they get two weeks from tonight.

We closed, and the dumbass manager let in two large parties and told us we had to take care of them. The first group left after discovering the absolutely shameful list of things we’d run out of. “Why didn’t you try to get them to order something different?” the manager whined. “Why didn’t the management team ensure we had the stuff ready to order” was the response my co-closer gave. Realizing that she gives nearly as few fucks as I do, he gave it up.

His stupidity wasn’t done there, he sat BOTH PARTIES in my co-closers section. While she was dealing with the first group, I got drinks for the second. Out of the ten people that got drinks, only three ordered any food. Great job keeping us open later for that, dipshit.

Then, when it came time for side work, I’ve got a server pitching a fit because she - as always - wanted the absolute easiest side work imaginable. To teach me a lesson, she cried to the manager that I was giving her the most difficult stuff because I don’t like her. She’s partly right, I don’t like her. I think she’s a lazy idiot. But her side work takes less than ten minutes and doesn’t even involve any cleaning. I told the manager to either make her do her goddamn side work or send her home - but if he sends her home I’m leaving too and to hell with the rest of this shit. While she was bitching about me to anybody who would listen - which would mean something to me if her opinion did - her last table is sitting in the dining room waiting for their check.

He does her side work for her. What the fuck. Then he lets her leave - without doing her section.

It was at this moment I decided that for the remainder of my time here I’m just a dumbass server. No more assigning side work. No more staying late ensuring everything is done. No more doing all the running side work. Fuck it. I left her section a filthy mess, and didn’t even bother clearing the tables. When day shift bitches about it, I’ll tell them it was the new night manager’s to take care of.

The rest of the 16-year-olds are looking for new jobs. As it turns out I’m the reason they’ve stayed as long as they have. My co-closer plans to give notice on my last day. She’s fed up too. They can have this eternal shit show to themselves.

Good luck with it.

My background check as come back and I passed to nobody’s surprise. Drug test will be back soon, and then I can just start the new job. I’m legitimately excited to work somewhere without all this stupid bullshit. -J

#server #restaurant

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 13

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6   Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9  Chapter 10  Chapter 11  Chapter 12 Chapter 14

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2063

Warnings:  Swearing, bit of violence if you looking very closely 

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Ey up my Loves, so we’re back and kicking ass! Quite literally in this Chapter, I’ve been going back over my previous chapters and I’m considering rewriting them to fit my new style. Let me know what you all think, do you prefer them as they are or would you want them to match my new style ? Anyways without further ado here's chapter 13, enjoy everyone! <3 

3rd person POV

Years have passed since that moment, time brought changes to the trio, what was once a childhood crush developed into a fierce love that neither of the pair wanted to acknowledge or admit in fear of loosing the other.

As you can imagine both Steve and Becca were ready to rip the heads off of their dumbass siblings.

6 years is a verrrry long time to put up with long looks of pining and repressed feelings, but unfortunately for the Brooklyn natives, y/n and bucky were about as stubborn as each other and refused to listen to the reasonable, sometimes frustrated, rants of their best friends. So much to the utter frustration of Steve and Becca, the two young lovebirds lived in a state of denial and attempted (the keyword being ATTEMPTED) to move on with their lives.

Naturally, someone as charming and handsome as James Barnes seemed to have a never-ending line of girls begging to be his, it had become a common occurrence for him to have a new girl on his arm each week, not that Steve or Y/n approved of his behaviour but hey Bucky can be a real big dumbass when he wants to be. Y/n did try to hide how much it bothered her, thankfully not only was Bucky a dumbass he was also completely unaware of her feelings and simply chalked it down to her being the unapproving sister, but to Steve it was a clear as day. He could see it in her face every time Bucky left to take the new girl dancing, or when she’d finish work early only to see Buck and his new girl on a romantic date in the Café opposite the dinner she worked at. The bright light behind her eyes always dimmed a little and she wouldn’t talk for hours, which for anyone that didn’t know her was enough to ring an ambulance and arrange a mental evaluation.

Now that’s not to say that Bucky was any better, the look of absolute utter rage that covered his face when another man called for Y/n was enough to make Steve and Becca completely loose it and simply laugh at his misery, neither of them felt bad because they’d been telling him for YEARS to man up and confess his feelings. Occasionally the pair did feel a slight twinge of guilt towards their brother, like the time the trio went to Y/n’s house to surprise her after work, only to see her kissing the cheek of a guy they’d never seen before, just like his other half Bucky did try to hide it, but the flash of pain that crossed his face was impossible to miss.

It’d gotten to the point where Steve wanted to lock em both in a closet til they finally admitted their feelings and put themselves out of their misery, though the fact that he had all the physical stats of a toothpick quickly nipped that idea in the bud.

Cut to today, for once it looked like it’d be a fairly normal day for everyone, boys were off doing god knows what, knowing those two it’d involve a punch up started by a small blonde idiot and finished by an even bigger idiot of a brunette. Though the same couldn’t be said about their girl, ever the more responsible one of them all Y/n had agreed to work overtime in the local dinner over on main street, meaning that she’d be the one closing the place down at 9pm.

Y/n didn’t even wanna think about what her two idiots would get up without proper adult supervision, though over the years she’d learned to expect that it would more than likely be something illegal.

Thankfully, it wasn’t something she had to worry about for the next couple of hours, though 9 times out of ten she’d be the one cleaning up the cuts and bruises only for them to come back the next day fresh wounds. As much as it did on occasion piss her off to no ends, Y/n wouldn’t want it any other way, they were and always will be her boys.

Y/N’s POV

Well, that was an absolute shit show of a day.

I mean you’d of thought that I was common knowledge not to put ya hands up a waitresses skirt, but nay some men didn’t seem to have got that memo, ever the public servant I made it my job to enlighten then with a hot cup of coffee to the crotch. How I’ve not received employee of the month is beyond me, what’s not to love ? I’m a fucking delight!

Thank god it’s home time, if I’da stayed in that place any longer something would of happened, knowing my crazy ass it’d of been something violent but in my defence….okay I don’t have a defence, but men can seriously suck ass when they wanna. All I wanna do is have a peaceful walk home, ignore the homeless guys that like to gawp at my ass and run a big old bubble bath whilst relaxing with a decent book.

Naturally, that didn’t happen.

Now, If ya spend as much time around a bunch of over aggressive monkeys that love jumping into fights as much as I do, you’ll probably get real good at recognising the sounds of a fight. And I’ve got a pretty good idea who the two dipshits are that started this pissing contest.

The sounds of shoes scuffling across the pavement were pretty much impossible to miss now, that along with the grunts and groans of a bunch of guys smacking the absolute shit outta each other tipped me off to what was happening around the corner. Everything in me screamed to carry on my merry way and let these morons sort out whatever beef they had in peace and believe me I was so close to ignoring it and walking past em, but it’s kinda hard to do that when ya hear ya best mate scream “come at me motherfuckers!”.

I couldn’t help the frustrated sigh that came outta my mouth but come on guys! This is the 5th one this week!

Very reluctantly I doubled back and went to help my idiotic boys out of whatever trouble they managed to get em selves into, and boy I’m glad that I did cause they were losing. Badly. It would seem that Steve’s request was met for them to “come at” him, cause one of em had him by the arms and was pummelling the life out of his small body, and Bucky wasn’t having any better luck either. Buck was in the same situation, but he had the pleasure of two guys restraining his arms whilst another two took turns in kicking him in the stomach, I mean I was already pissed off at what was happening to Steve but now,  I’m beyond pissed and IF I’d of taken the time to calm down for a few seconds I’da thought of a better plan than this.

“Man…I really liked these shoes”.

In my defence, I didn’t mean to throw them as hard as I did, I was hoping to distract them for a couple of seconds so I could get the jump on the guy beating the crap outta Steve, instead I hit him square in the back his head and knocked him the fuck out. Any other time I’da been wetting myself laughing, but instead it seemed like time slowed down as the assholes holding Steve up froze and made eye contact with me, even the guys on Bucky stopped to see what had happened, all four of em had a look of complete and utter disbelief when they finally saw me. Not that I really cared, all I wanted was for em to get the fuck off of my boys.

Nobody seemed to wanna say anything for the next couple of seconds, the assholes beating up Bucky and Steve were still trying to wrap their heads around what just happened, and my idiots were looking back and forth between the guy on the floor and me, not even taking the time to try escape their holds. How the hell they manage to survive all these years without me is beyond my understanding.

“Sup my dudes, my names Y/n and I’ll be kicking ya ass today”.

I think it’s safe to say that I snapped everyone out of their shocked states, cause the guys holding both Steve and Bucky dropped their asses to the ground and instead focus on me, which is pretty fair considering I did just knock their mate out with a 2-inch healed shoe.

“Do ya know what we do to girls that don’t know their place round here? Cause ya about to find out girly” why is it always the ugliest motherfuckers that try to act tough, I mean look at this guy! he’s got more stains on his shirt than he does teeth, and about as much hair as a furless cat, I’ve been more intimidated by a group of 12-year-old girls in the dinner than I have him!...teenagers are fucking scary don’t judge me.

Right back to this absolute shitshow of a ‘fight’.

Mr ‘I’m only 30 years old and I already need dentures’ swung his arm out towards me in a pathetic attempt at a punch, which massively backfired on him cause I threw that dumbass over my shoulder and ‘accidently’ knocked his last 4 teeth out.  That left me with the rest of the hounds, two of em were rushing at me the second I let go of their newly toothless friend, the one on my right missed me completely and fell over a fence, dumbass. The dude on my left though, well he didn’t miss I’ll put it that way, he fully rugby tackled me into the car behind me, knocking the wind outta me and leaving me dazed for a few seconds.

But just like the first guy, his ‘punches’ were about effective as a marshmallow. Pretty embarrassing for him really, I mean you hate to see it.

“Okay no, give me your hand I’m gonna teach you how to punch cause this is just embarrassing for you dude, first don’t put your thumb at the bottom cause ya gonna break it, second don’t just throw ya arm forward and hope it hurts, use your body weight cause ya got a lot of it and throw it into the punch.”

At that point I’d pushed him off me and the car, his form was absolutely terrible so I went ahead and corrected it for him, found out his name was Eric, which was pretty interesting, gave him a few practise shots and then let him hit me for real, and I must be a fucking amazing teacher cause that one hurt!

“Really Doll?”

Let me tell you, I’d never seen Bucky so unimpressed in my life, his face was completely deadpanned with only his eyebrows raised, Steve wasn’t too impressed either, his infamous mum glare was in full force as I sheepishly backed away from my new best friend.

“In my defence, you left me unsupervised, and Eric’s form was absolutely atrocious, wasn’t it Eric my lad ?”

“….She’s a pretty good teacher to be fair”.

“See? I’m a good teacher! Suck it Barnes!”

Bucky Knocked Eric the fuck out in response. I think you can all understand how heartbroken I was.

“What the hell Barnes?! If it weren’t for me you and Steve would be dead!” I’m pretty sure I looked as insane as I was acting, Steve was full on laughing his ass off behind Buck, I mean if I weren’t so annoyed by them both right now I’d be on the floor with him just dying of laughter. But nay, I had a bone to pick with the both of them, which I think they both realised considering they both went pale before turning around and bucking it to my house. What you need to remember is that these are fully gown men, running around a Brooklyn neighbourhood screaming bloody murder, with a much smaller y/h/c lass running right behind them brandishing a pair of heels, fully intending to murder them both.

How we’ve gone all these years without being arrested or locked in a mental asylum astounds me.

So hopefully you all enjoyed this, let me know what you all think, we’ve got about 2 more chapters left of my boys then we move onto Captain America the First Avenger!! 

lots of love

Rose xx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america x reader #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

[prorevenge]

Give my hours away to a new-hire? I’ll leave you with a store to close yourself, misfiled paperwork and get you fired.

This happened a couple months ago at an old employer. I worked at a supermarket in my state throughout high school and while in college in the United States making $9 to start and only $10.50 at the end. The store had 1 Store Manager, 2 Assistant Store Managers, 1 manager and assistant manager per department, which there were 9 departments. For 5 years, I worked every position there because who knew what hiring was, right? Understaffing was a regular here, so if a department needed closing and I worked, I had to close it. From stocking to register to managers duties, everything was game. My biggest acknowledgements were being a Book-Keeper (Out terms of the person who keeps track of all the money), Monitor (Glorified cashier, basically wrangle the regular cashiers and divvy up cash drawers to each register), Service Desk (Cigarettes, lottery, customers bullshit) and store opener/closer. There were 5 people who knew Book-Keeping, 2 other people besides me and the 2 managers who ran the front end of the store. There were about 5 monitors who all needed to be trained on Service Desk as well. Every monitor and Book-Keeper needed to know how to open the store and close it. For being a supermarket in a town with about 20,000 people, we were severely understaffed. I worked 12 to 16 hour shifts at least once a week because people would call off all the time. Keep all this in mind for later on.

Backstory: I started working here at 16 in high school originally as a stock person. 25 hour work weeks, eventually moved up to 35+ hour work weeks. Moved up to register, then monitor, then Service Desk and finally Book-Keeping when I turned 18, now 21. The hours were always good, never had a week drop below 35 hours at least. But it all changed because of some dickhead.

At the start of COVID-19, I was working while in college, so all these guidelines had to be followed. Everyone needed their toilet paper and hand sanitizer to keep COVID away. No biggie. On top of the guidelines, we also had been hiring a copious amount of people. This store had a history of training new hires with other people who have been working for maybe a month or so. So as you could guess, training was a disaster. But since COVID-19 had the store busy all the time, we needed more people. I wanted to train people the right way because I got sick of doing other people’s jobs. In March, we had gotten 4 new-hires to train for my position. Now these new-hires needed training on the service desk. Easy, let them run it while I watched and helped out the best I could. Easiest way to get people to learn. Most of them needed trained on here because there were 3 of us total, at the time, who could run it. After training everyone, one per shift at a time over 4 weeks, there were 7 people now ready to fuck up the world. But everyone who knew how to run the service desk needed training on Monitor too. Guess who had to train everyone for another position? After another 4 weeks of bullshit, everyone got trained. Around this time was the end of May. This is where the juice begins.

The Juice: Starting in June, we had been starting to lay off the hours since COVID-19 started to slow down. Hours started to get cut from all the register people, from about 20-30 hours a week to 10 hours max. We got over staffed and people started quitting left and right. Not a big deal because those positions were easy to fill. But that’s when MY hours started getting cut. At the time, the one new-hire who started in March, who we’ll call Helen, had been getting really good hours, I’m talking about MY hours. We had the same problem, college money, car money, the works and all. But then I got scheduled for 16 hours one week and they got scheduled for over 35 hours. Not once since I was 18 did I get less than 35 hours. So I decided to confront the Assistant Manager who was in charge of scheduling, we’ll call him Frank.

Me: Hey Frank, I noticed my hours got cut. What’s happening?

Frank: I know, everyone’s hours are getting cut. I have to make room for everyone, ya know?

Me: I couldn’t help but notice that Helen is getting quite the hours, so you made room for her and no one else?

Frank: I was unaware of that, I’ll get you some more hours next week.

The reset of the week was kind of boring since I was a workaholic. No one called me to cover shifts or anything. The following week, I asked around to see who covered any shifts last week and it turns out that ALL the new hires got called first. That kind of pissed me off but hey, can’t do anything about it now. Later that day, I check my schedule and whaddya know? The same 16 hour week. I was livid at this point, I should have been honored for my seniority there, not getting fucked over in hours. I went back to Frank and confronted him.

Me: Hey, what the hell is this?! I thought you’d be finding me hours this week, I can’t live off of this.

Frank: Well it turns out that I couldn’t find you hours. I tried calling-

Me: Bullshit you tried calling me, not a single person called me. Instead, all the new-hires got called. What the hell man?!

Frank: There’s nothing I can do, you might have to just find another job.

This PISSED me off beyond belief. I was ready to pop. But this is when my bright idea came into play. For a couple days, I searched around for other supermarkets in my area offering jobs. After about a day of searching, I found a job paying DOUBLE what I made now for the same qualifications. I gave them a ring and got an interview for the following week. The following day, I went into work, for what I didn’t know was my last shift, and told Frank what was happening.

Me: Hey Frank, I just wanted to let you know I took your advice.

Frank: Advice? Do you mean finding another job?

Me: You’re A fucking right, I hope you have fun!

I will never forget the look on his face. Completely baffled. He didn’t expect me to actually find another job so quickly. This is where my revenge began.

Revenge: After I walked out of dickhead Franks office, I went around doing my usual work. During every shift, a metric fuckton of paperwork needed to be processed in the computer in order to close the store correctly and setup Book-Keeping for the next day. Fun fact, that day in particular was SNAP-day. For those who don’t know what that is, it’s the day that government funded Food-Stamps arrive on everyones EBT card, monthly. That day I decided to say fuck paperwork and just don’t do shit, I was quitting that day because my anger got the better of me. The store closes at about 12am, and I walked out of that shit hole as free as can be.

The next day, I woke up to find some really obnoxious and angry texts from coworkers. I completely disregarded them, unknowingly that they said I worked that morning. I went down to the supermarket to grab some things for my house and as soon as I walked in the door, every ex-coworker of mine looked at me as if I had just passed on the floor. One of them pulled me aside, let’s call them George, and this happened:

George: What the fuck bro? I had to cover your shift this morning and you have the balls to walk in here after that?

Me: I don’t work here anymore, fuck off.

I continued to get my groceries and talked to one of my closer ex-coworkers there about what happened. As it turned out, the Frank had no idea that the previous day was my last AND that the ENTIRE front-end of the store had gotten brutally fucked over. Since the store closed at 12am and no paperwork was filed, our Corporate called the Assistant Manager, also in charge of making sure all departments are closed correctly, and asked where all the paperwork was. No idea that I had not filed it, Frank had to go into the store, over an hour away from him, to file all the paperwork himself. Not only that, tons of violations were given to him because since none of the paperwork got done by the person closing, no one had a record of anything done at the store from the previous day. On top of everything, the amount of paperwork needed done was practically doubled since that day was SNAP. As soon as the Store Manager heard about this, she was LIVID.

After about a month, I was working my new job and heard some information about Frank. Apparently he had to go into a meeting with our Corporate bosses and the Store Manager. He had gotten fired from his position due to all of this and had not been able to get a letter of recommendation from that employer also. Sucks to suck huh?

TLDR: Manager gives my hours away to new-hire and tells me to get another job. I walked out and got him a bunch a violations and fired due to his stupid remarks.

(source) story by (/u/FweakinLittle)

#prorevenge #by /u/FweakinLittle #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

[taking-over-his-life]

The solicitor and the skinhead

It was 2am when I received a call from the local police station. They had arrested a guy for violent disturbance and he had requested a solicitor. I was on duty tonight and there was no way I could get out of it. ,”45mins” I said as I put the phone down. I didn't need the money but decided to do this as I got to meet some real rough bastards, the type I fantasized over. It was the only way I could make contact with this sort of guy. 

One day I'd find one who would want to fuck me senseless.  I got dressed, white shirt, red tie blue suit black shoes, and picked up my leather briefcase, then onto the garage. The Audi was waiting as I sunk into its leather seats. I thought about what sort of dim witted fucker I would meet and it made me hard. I resented these dumb socialist thugs. Never worked, no morals, little diction. I resented how their bodies had grown so strong, their attitude so belligerent while they contributed little to society, while I had worked hard through school and university to get where I was and those low lives just took.

They looked so hard so masculine everything I wanted, I just needed one who I could get into my bed and fuck senseless, and let him do the same to me rather than the hooray henries I usually picked up.

I got to the station and parked in the yard. I was so sexually charged, probably the spliff I had had earlier and the tiredness. I spoke to Andy on the front desk a hot Latin looking cop, damn I wish I was in his pants, but I have to keep up the pretense.I was signed in and briefed on the job I had to see. Malcolm was his name. He beat a young guy senseless as he shouted abuse at him. I looked at the address a block of council flats, typical scrounger I thought.

I was led into the interview room and again shown the panic alarm which was standard procedure. Ill be ok I said as I sat down opposite my client“Hello” I said, “my name is George Anstey”, I am the duty solicitor. He snarled at me, I looked at him and took in every aspect of his look persona and dress. He has the same height and build as me, He put his feet on the table, red 30 hole doctor martins, worn and dirty from wear. I looked at them, tight on his legs, so tight I could imagine his muscles through them and how they must smell. 

I followed up his legs, white and blue bleachers, so tight on his thighs so muscular and that crotch, stuck up so high so packed, damn I was getting hard I was mesmerized when he said… “like what u see”? I was shocked and tried to speak but had to swallow to get a word out, “what do u mean” I said He took his feet off the table and I felt them rub against my legs under the table. It was like an electric shock I started to speak, as I sheepishly looked into his face. He was smirking. I saw his shaved head and face and his eyes peering at me. The ring in his nose glinted against the light and the swastika tat on his neck gave a strong message. “How can I help u” I said clearing my throat, he just looked at me, and rubbed his thigh against mine, I shivered he smiled an evil sadistic smile. “Got myself a bum boi have I” he said. I went red with embarrassment, “you like rough do u Mr. Solicitor” I did and by this time ii was hard and seeping “Get me out of here tonight and ill fuck, you raw to heaven, bum boi” he grunted.I questioned him at length and found a few procedural errors in the arrest. 

After an hours discussion with the police they released him on bail.I waited round the corner from the station and saw him walking towards the car, he swayed like a gorilla his shoulders huge in the jacket. 

I watched his legs in those tight bleachers as they caught the light. His huge crotch gently moving from side to side. I saw the light from the street lamp reflect off the rings in his ears and nose. His fists were clenched in tight black leather gloves as he moved closer and closer to the car. I opened the passenger door as he approached he didn”t seem surprised to see me.He looked at me and smiled, and instead of getting in the passenger side he pushed me over and jumped into the driver”s seat.I didn”t resist, I just let him. I knew it was a mistake but I was so horned up I was dripping into my silk boxers.“Nice car George boi, thanks for getting me out,” he said, he grabbed my crotch with his leathered hand and pressed; it was as if 50000 volts had gone through me.“Now lets pay the solicitor”, he looked at me and smiled, his nostrils enlarging showing the nose ring more clearly. I watched him as we drove, 4 rings in his left ear two on the top two at the bottom, ohhh what I would have given for piercings when I was young.I could see we were heading to his place into the worst council estate in the area he pulled over next to a block of flats and got out. As he did I saw his arse properly for the first time. Tight bleachers over two tight hard cheeks, fuck he was incredible.“Follow me georgie” he said as he walked in front of me to an entrance. It was filthy, litter all over, the stink of stale piss. I walked being him as we climbed the stairs, concentrating on his ass and legs, every muscle movement I saw I recorded, his red doctor martins moved with his legs and feet, the leather giving way to accommodate the muscle movements. The soles were worn, as was the stitching, I was just mesmerized by the time we reached the 4th floor. He turned around and looked at me. Smiling he said “you want this don”t you,”“ “want what” I said, “me” he replied, I said “very much,”We walked to the last door on the landing he fiddled with some keys and opened and iron gate which was over the door. In we went. I followed my stomach turning with excitement and my dick raging. When we got in he lit some candles. “No leckie” he said.We walked to a filthy kitchen. He got two beers passed one too me, “here” he said, “no I don”t” I said, suddenly he jumped towards me and pushed me against the wall. “I said fucking drink cunt” he said. I drank. The violence had my dick raging and he could see it. He rolled some spliffs and set them aside. “Now solicitor what do u want” he grunted. he grabbed me and started to kiss me, his tongue entering my mouth. “you like it rough eh”? He said. He lit the spliff and put it in my mouth. I didn”t care anymore and breathed it in. I coughed and then my head started to roll.He was all over me his hands in my shirt trousers, undressing me bit by bit. By the time he finished I was naked. He was there smelling my underpants pushed against his face, moaning with delight.I was totally naked, on the kitchen floor of a filthy council house, a solicitor out of my power clothing being controlled by a bigoted skinhead dumb fuck. 

I had my hands on his doctor martins feeling the worn leather. He sat down lit a spliff and that was it. “lick them cunt” he said and pushed my head to his boots. I was in heaven as I licked and licked that red leather.We played all night I woke up He was standing there, sweaty and dirty from our night of sex. His tattooed body got me hard again as I watched him smelling my undies. He looked at me, climbed on the bed, got sitting on my chest his legs either side of me. “I want you to stay here for a while fucker,” he passed me my blackberry, “tell everyone your sick” he said, “what?” I said looking confused, “text them now. Your sick” he ordered, he grabbed my throat and positioned his ass over my dick, smiling at me, “your sick, OK”? I was as hard as iron, and texted work and friends. “Ok Mal” I said.He went to his stash and lit a spliff and made me smoke it all. I was floating. I saw him smell my undies and put them on, then my shirt, “what you doing” I said (Must be honest it was turning me on) “I need to go out boi, need to look right for the car, eh?” “you make a hot solicitor Mal” I said, “go back to wanking skin fucker”” he said to me. He dressed fully in my clothes, and looked good, checked my wallet and left. I lay there in this stinking bedroom, rubber sheet stained with piss and cum the smell was electric and I was horny as hell, the spliff making it betterI saw his stained yellow jock, I reached out to smell it pushing it against my face and nose, to get his smell all over my goatee. I wanted it to linger, then I stood up and put my legs through the holes and pulled it up so it covered my raging cock. I pushed it tight against my dick and balls so they would absorb his smell as I looked around there on the floor was his gear, I saw the bleachers and started to cum, on my own as I picked them up and started to step into them, the feeling was so intense, and I fell on the bed.My cum soaked into his jock, I started to pull the bleachers up over my ass and dick, and managed to zip them up and fasten the button, as my cock rose to full height.I looked down at my legs covered in his filthy gear, damn I felt so good. I picked up one of his cigs and put it to my mouth, I lit up. I didn”t smoke but this was so hot I felt so horny again and picked up his socks, they were grey with dirt and foot sweat, I smelled them again and again wanting the smell to be mine.I pulled one on my left foot it came to just below the knee then the right one. I could feel his stink entering my pours. Then the pista resistance. His doctor martins. Worn red 30 hole monsters, I picked up the left boot and spent 5 mins with my head and nose it enjoying the smell and my tongue licking and tasting the leatherOn it went my foot fitted perfectly. It took me ages to get the laces on, I was out of it, but the fitted so snuggly and tight. Then the right boot, I looked down, damn I was a fucking filthy worthless skin. I could feel and smell who he was, and I was him for a day. I picked up his Fred Perry vest and savored the smell of the pits It was soon on my body snug and tight. I stood up and found a mirror again without any assistance I shot a load in his jock. I found a beer and another smoke and enjoyed his last spliff, if I was to play him I needed to act like, and fuck was it hot.I dozed off, it must have been evening when he came back, dressed in my gear. I heard something but just enjoyed the enforced sleep. Suddenly I felt myself being lifted, “hey” I said. There he was a pierced dirty skin boi in my suit. I smiled“You look fucking hot as a skin boi” he said, “lets make it real,” he laid out some coke and gave me a straw, “enjoy “ he said, I took two lines 

By this time my mind was floating I would do anything. I saw my reflection in the mirror, fuck I was a low life scum skin. I was so horny. “Sit here skin fucker” he said. I did suddenly I heard the sound of clippers and saw my hair falling to the ground, I put my hand up,” noooo” I said. Suddenly I felt a huge punch to my face and felt my nose break, ahhh I then blacked out.It was the next morning when I woke up, I felt something on top of me and realized it was him fucking my ass, the bleachers and skin gear was still on me and he was panting and sweating as he fucked me raw and senseless, my nose was in pain but the thought of him in me got me so hard he was shouting as he suddenly let rip into my guts, I came in his, no, my jock againHe got off me,” how did you like that fucker” he said, I looked up he was naked, tats down his arm back chest legs, fucking incredible. Strange I thought his hair was growing now. I got up and started to kiss him, my tongue deep on his mouth. As I did I caught a reflection in the mirror, two skins one in gear one naked. Fuck I realized that the one in gear was me. I was shaved, shaved head, face, damn I looked hot.He pulled me over to the kitchen fed me and gave me some e tablets. I took two. “Take one every six hours “he said.” Ill be back tonight.” I felt my legs and feet in the skin gear and rubbed my hands on my new shaved head, fucking hell, whats happening I thought. I looked in the mirror, who the hell was it, a thug, broken nose, shaved head, what was happening.He came out of the bedroom after getting changed. He was in my suit, in fact it was another suit of mine, where had he got it from. He walked up to me grabbed my crotch, stuck his tongue down my throat. “Now smoke these fucker” he handed me two spliffs, two e tablets and a pack of 20 ciggs.” Ill be back at 7 make sure u have had them all. It will be so hot tonight so fucking hot for you skin boi”. he looked into my eyes. “You like being a skin” he grunted, I rubbed my hands on my legs and chest, “fuck yeah Mal”, I said. “Lets make it real tonight fucker”. Think of yourself as me” “ Would you like to be me,”? “ wow”i said “you mean I could take your place” I responded, “yeah” he replied, “please “ I said not realizing what I was asking. I was still high.“Tonight fucker tonight” he said and left. I watched him from the balcony as he strutted in my suit to my car and drove off. I pulled out the cigs, sat on the ground with my dm feet on the railing and smoked two of the ciggs. They made me feel sick at first and then the euphoria kicked in. My mind was just racing at the idea of being a low life skin.I lay down on the rubber sheet of the bed and smelled the piss and cum, I was in heaven. I could smell my sweat mingling with his on MY skin gear, it was mine now, not changed in two days fucking hot. I wore his flight jacket and found his rings and gloves on they went along with the dog tags and thick metal chain around my neck.I stood in front of the mirror and just wanked for hours. I took the e tabs as instructed and the spliffs. I got though 18 ciggs before he got back. I could hear him and other voices along with things they were moving.I came out of the bedroom and saw two huge tattooed guys. “Hi Mal”, they said to me, I smiled and liked being addressed like that. They erected two chairs and some equipment.Mal was there again in my suit, he smiled, his hair was starting to really show on his head. “You shaved hour head today Mal ?” he said, “no sir”i said, “do it now while we set up” he said.He followed me to the bathroom. And gave me a razor and soap. He stood behind me his erect dick pushing at my ass through the cloth.“Take these, he gave me two tablets”, and some water,” swallow Mal “he said, “I like being called that” I said, getting on my knees to suck him, “later boi” he said. “Shave” he instructed I shaved, what an erotic experience. When he came out, the big buys introduced themselves, rod and jay. “Now heres whats going to happen” said Jay smoking a cigar. “I will copy his tats” pointing at Mal “onto your body. It will hurt a little. rod will remove them from Mal at the same time so its like a transfer”.“Tomorrow you will be an inked skin boi”he said smiling at me as he felt my crotch. “Ill start with some holes for you new piercings. what should I call u skin boi”? He said. I looked at Mal, “is it ok if I use your name”? I said “Yeah you be me skinboi”, he said. I looked at Jay, “I”m Mal,” I said and smiledIt seemed to last forever, the pain in my ears eyebrows dick nipples, and the sustained pricking on my neck chest arms back and legs. I was so out of it and watched Mal as he had them removed. I fell to sleep. When I woke up I was in bed, bandages where the tats had been transferred. Mal lying next to me in the same condition. I looked at him, “fuck what happened Mal”, he reached over, and squirmed as his back hurt, “I thought we agreed, who Mal was, you changed your mind skin” he said looking at me angrily, “no sorry” I said, “your George, I”m Mal”, “how u doing George” I said. “Ok Mal” he replied. “Here take these” he said and handed two more tabs and I was out.I must have been out for days. I woke up and he was standing there naked, no tats, smoking a spliff and wanking over me. I kneeled and put my lips around his cock and sucked like never b4 it wasn”t long b4 he came buckets in my mouth, pulling my shaved head to his groin. “You like that Mal. Like your solicitors cum, eh”? He said. “fuck yeah sir”, I said in his voice. “Come here” he ordered. He stood me in front of the mirror and removed the bandages from me. We were both stark naked. He revealed my tatts celtic on my legs and chest, wings on my back, my dick responded and was so hard I came without touching it all over the mirror as I looked at the new me“Lets finish this off skinboi” he said. he went to the kitchen. I just looked at the new me, thinner, shaved inked fuck I really was Mal now no one would know the difference, he came back with a bowl and some disinfectant “lets complete this” he said. He pulled out the huge pa from his dick and soaked it in the bowl of disinfectant. “lets see how it looks on you Mal” he said. My dick was erect again, as I wanted it so much. He got the pa and with difficulty pushed it through the hole the tattoo guys had made. He slapped my dick “horny cunt” he said. I looked down and saw his, no my pa I my skin dick, “fucking hell” I said, “is this real?” “Give me them all I want to fucking be you in everyway Mal” I shouted, desperate for every last piece of the real Mal.He took them out of his nips and put them on mine, then his ears, eyebrows, and eventually the heavy thick ring from his nose. “this makes you a skin pig boi Mal” he said, I was just mesmerized at how I looked and felt, I just gazed and gazed at my new reflection. He lit a spliff.” Here” he said. I smoked got high, and laid on my back as he fucked me raw. We were looking at each other as we changed identities.

After an hour of sex, he stood up and went to get cleaned up. I picked up my filthy skin gear and dressed. Maybe I could go out today as Mal I thought, who would know .He came in suited and booted. “Got go get back to my place today Mal” he said. “Here”s the keys to your council flat enjoy” he smiled.” Heres a few quid to get u by”.”Your m8s will be hear at 8 tonight for a skin fuck fest enjoy, you skin scum” he saidI looked in the mirror at a fucking shaved skin scum, Nazi symbol on me neck bleachers doctor martins Fred Perry a fucking dream, pig ring in me broken nose, rings on me fingers thick silver chain round me neck. My crotch was fucking huge as me huge dick stood to attention. I moved around seeing how masculine and thuggish I was.I pulled out the ciggs and went outside onto the landing and looked over at the estate. A neighbor came out a chav guy, he looked at me. “Aint seen u around for a bit Mal” he said. He thought I was Mal, in fact I fucking was, “been fucking busy m8, outa me head” I said. “He sidled up to me”, I offered him a cig as we chatted about nothing in particular. He rubbed his leg against mine. I looked at him, “you want to fuck cunt?” “Fuck yeah” he said. Within minutes we were inside his place fucking like rabbits. Me inside him, him in me, leaving our cum inside each others guts.I finished went outside and smoked two ciggs. time for a walk I thought. I locked me flat, my flat, I thought and headed down the stairs.

Filthy dump I though. I was greeted by a couple of skins and we chatted. Real fucking rough m8s I thought. Women moved outa me way as I came past. I was shocked when I passed the local shops to see me reflection, it was just like the time I saw Mal as he approached my car, my car, what was I thinking, I was Mal now.

#bodyswap #body switch #male body swap

[simpingforsoftboys]

Haikyuu as Things Me & My Friend Groups Do In Roblox

!NOT RDR INSERT!

Atsumu (+ Osamu)

Atsumu has been obsessed with Dance Off for god knows how long and gets pissed off when people refuse to follow the theme

Don’t even get him started on when people team and vote for their friends- regardless if they fit the theme or not

Mofo will convince Osamu to play with him and have them on the same team- wearing matching outfits and shit

Literally goes “ok third dance on the right in 1 2 3-“ and will get angry if Samu messes up and makes his character dance out of sync

Suna + Miya Twins

Murder Mystery Hardcore and Flee the Facility are their go to

Tsumu gets real invested in the game and will be lowkey hurt if either of them kill him

“Tf Samu what kinda brother are ya-“

Osamu doesnt gaf and has gotten real good at sneaking glances at Atsumu’s screen

In MM, Suna deliberately points fingers at random innocent players, claiming they’re the murderer- and laughs when the sheriff shoots them

Suna’s also the type to have all the hidden rooms locations memorized and will camp out there if he’s feeling lazy

It doesn’t matter if Osamu is murderer or sheriff, he’ll still target Atsumu

In Flee The Facility Suna and Osamu will team up and follow Atsumu around and sabatoge all the computers he hacks

They also team with the beast and stand and watch Atsumu when he’s captured- taunting him

Atsumu gets so mad and it’s hilarious

“STOP CAMPIN YOU TEAMERS &$&?!&”

Suna never saves anyone when they get captured- even Osamu

But he’ll be upset if no ones rescues him

“Hurry up and rescue me- I am literally dying wtf.”

His voice doesn’t really rise in volume but it will change to a higher pitch out of irritation

Suna is very quiet when he plays and will mute his mic

When he’s not feeling serious about playing he’ll go run up to the beast and juke em and stuff for lolz

When he’s beast he’ll camp the computers/survivors

Osamu is that one player who will either be a saint and save everyone or refuses to help anyone

It really just depends on who he’s playing with

He’s the type to get pissed off when the last survivor waits by the open exit in order to irritate the beast

Spams chat to urge them to hurry up

Never types in caps but makes lowercase look threatening

He’s the kinda beast that will actually play fair and go after the remaining survivors once he captures one

Atsumu is that one lvl 30 something player but still manages to play like a total noob

Messes up when hacking the computers cuz he gets distracted then blames it on his internet lagging

Osamu calls him out for lying

“Yer such a liar tsumu my internet aint laggin yer just shit at this.”

Also the type of player to forget his volume is maxed out and gets scared when he hears the beast music

The last survivor that Osamu hates- and stands in front of the door way to taunt the beast

Atsumu hates being beast and will immediately leave the game if he is beast- much to Osamu’s chargin

Bokuto, Kuroo, Kenma, Akaashi

Kenma convinces them to play the roblox version of Paranormica (ghost hunting game)

Bokuto always has to carry the lantern because for some reason the game always decides that the ghosts hate him- and only him

Bo also carries the spirit book, because it doesn’t need to be equipped to be used

If he see’s ANY writing he will straight up drop the thing and run over to kuroo, telling him to “forget the box and bring the bird” (Kuroo has to carry the bird and the spirit box)

If the bird dies Kuroo starts whisper screaming “oh fuck no not today satan” and will run out of the place back to the van asap

Bokuto panics too and will run after him, telling Akaashi to run and leaving Kenma in the place without light (hopefully the fuse hasnt blown out by then)

Since he has the spirit box, Kuroo is also the first to be sacrificed once the ouija board starts saying some weird shit

This dummy thought angering the ghost further (by saying its name) was a good idea and will get himself killed

Kenma is me basically

He’ll carry the nightvision cam and emf reader and will periodically alternate between the two

Once he see’s something sus though he’s all like “time for a tactical retreat” and will run outside w/out telling anyone else

Every man for himself

It dont matter if the ghost isnt aggro yet- he aint takin any chances

Can be heard quietly debating with himself about what type the ghost is- even if he only has 1/3 clues

Akaashi usually sticks with Kenma- sorry Bo but kaashi dont f with ghosts, not even for you

He has the fuse and a crucifix- his job is to be Kenma’s support

He occasionally weighs in on the ghost type debate

Tbh he hates this game with a passion- it never fails to give him anxiety

Oikawa & Hanamaki

These two play Fashion Famous together

Iwa and Mattsun totally make fun of them for it

Oikawa takes this game way too seriously

Will follow the theme to a T and bought all the game passes 💀

Makki doesn’t have robux so he has to stick to the free sections

If he’s feeling like a troll he’ll follow Oikawa around and wear a similar outfit and everything to irritate him

Kawa is not happy and insults him in chat- other players report him for bullying and he gets banned for a few days

Seijoh 4

These guys play Bloxburg together 💯

They have their own roblox group so thats how Makki got the 25 robux needed to play

Again Oikawa has all the game passes

He, Mattsun, and Makki all spend their time building a giant castle with secret underground entryways that lead to hidden prisons

They like to rp (roleplay) and kidnap unsuspecting players

Mattsun and Makki built a strip club together

Iwaizumi is the money maker and is always working aha (either at the grocery store as a cashier or pizza delivery guy)

The three idiots roleplay dramatically in the chat for attention 💀

Iwa’s so over their shit

Okay I spent an hour listing these while simultaneously watching The Good Doctor (and there’s poly representation in the new season omfg I love it!) while taking a break from my homework- now I gtg get started again bye.

#oikawa torū #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi #seijoh #seijoh four #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #miya osamu #osamu miya #suna rintaro #rintaro suna #kuroo tersurou #kuroo #kenma #kozume kenma #bokuto koutaro #bokuto kotaro #akaashi #akaashi keiji #bokuto #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki #mattsukawa issei #mattsukawa #haikyuu roblox

[words-for-holland]

Happier (10) | T.H.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: After the events of last night, Tom and Y/N are completely heartbroken. More threats are thrown out. Tom leaves???

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Masterlist

A/N: WOW 10 CHAPTERS ALREADY?! If you made it this far..Thanks for sticking around! What has been your favorite part in the series so far??

Anger

There was no way to describe it. The unsettling feeling erupted between Y/N and Tom after last night. At that point, they weren’t sure of where to go from here, but I guess that’s what happens when one lets their guard down. Once thinking they had a second chance to rebuild what was lost, has now drifted further and further apart.

Y/N knew she should be angry at Unknown, for being the reason why she had to experience heartbreak a second time. Yet, she also couldn’t help but feel anger towards Tom. There had to be a reason behind the kiss, but something inside her didn’t want to let go of the fact that he did kiss Natalie in the end. It wasn’t staged, it wasn’t questionable pictures, it was real and Y/N had the displeasure of seeing it up close.

The images wouldn’t leave her mind, and no one was there to look out for her. Kate was gone, and Harrison and Harry took a weekend for themselves. For the first time ever...it was just her against the world.

Y/N hadn’t moved from her position since she yelled at Tom. Crouched on the floor, her back leaning against the door, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Her mind and her heart had left her body, while she was very much alive, her current state might as well deem her dead. She was waiting for someone, something to give her a sign that everything was going to be okay.

Thats when she heard the soft knocks. Three knocks at a time. Once. Twice. Then a third time. Y/N refused to open the door, thinking it was still Tom, but the more she waited the more the enfuriating knocking would not stop. After a couple more, she was ready to open door just to stop it. Another part was also curious to know what Tom had to say about last night. Maybe just maybe they’d get through it again like they did before. Y/N wiped her tears dry, and turned the doorknob.

It wasn’t Tom.

Natalie with her neatly waved, dirty blonde hair appeared at the door, her hand in mid knock. She gently placed it down and gave Y/N a tight-lipped smiled. “May I come in?” She asked in her robust english accent.

“Let me think about it. You’re in a PR relationship with my ex-boyfriend, you stole my ex-boyfriend’s clothes without permission and posted it all over social media when you said you wouldn’t...and let me see I know there was one more thing I was forgetting...” Y/N sarcastically ponders the thought, tapping her finger on her chin. “Oh yeah..you managed to kiss him right in front of me when there was no need for the PR. So if you asking to come into my room as if you’ve been my best friend all my life..You’re out of your fucking mind.” She speaks out bitterly.

Natalie looks at Y/N surprised at the attitude thrown at her. She knew Y/N was one for being a forgiving and generous girl, but today she saw a whole side of her. Natalie smirks at the comment and the result of her stunt. “Okay, then I won’t play the nice gal anymore. Now this is your last warning. Stay. Away. From. Tom.” Natalie threatens, jabbing her finger into Y/N’s chest as she emphasizes the last four words.

It clicked for Y/N as if a lightbulb when off in her head. She always had her assumptions, but Natalie’s threat was enough to prove her theory. “It is you...You’re Unknown. This whole time...From the moment I started to drift away from Tom..It was because of you!” Y/N yells out in frustration.

Natalie laughs manically. “Oh babes. You’re funny if you think I’m Unknown. Im only a part of your nightmare. And it’s going to keep on going and going. I’ll make sure you never wake from it.”

Y/N glares at Natalie, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this..if you’re not Unknown, who is?”

“Like I’d ever tell you who Unknown is. I wasn’t lying about that part though. Unknown is on to me as well if I don’t play my role in this game.” Natalie scoffs as she looks at her fresh pressed manicure.

“If Unknown is threatening you, then why don’t you stop them? Why help make my life miserable when you know all of us are being pulled by the strings?” Y/N interrogates Natalie, furrowing her eyesbrows in confusion. No human being would be that cruel to ruin somone else’s life for no apparent reason. She assumed that Natalie was lying for the sake of keeping herself safe from Unknown, but from what?

“Because you took the one thing I ever truly cared about. Tom and I were doing fine, until you came into the picture.” Natalie glares at Y/N. She wanted to make sure her message was loud and clear. “I want to make you feel the pain and loss I felt when Tom left me.”

Y/N looks at her with digust, almost sick to her stomache the way Natalie talked down to her. “You cant change the way he feels Natalie.”

“No, but it seems like you’re doing that just on your own. Honestly Y/N, how much longer do you think he’ll take the more you push him away? Unknown and I are just the boost, you’re insecurities is what’s doing the magic. God, I cant wait to see how far it goes.” Natalie smirks as she turns toward the door.

“Then why keep going Natalie? You have Tom, the publicity, the looks. What more do you want?” Y/N challenges her.

“Acceptance.” She simply states. “And I wouldn’t bother bringing this up or trying to make ammends with Tom. You know Unknown will continue to pull more strings. In fact, I heard he got so sick of everything, he’s leaving on the next flight for Germany.” Natalie emphasizes, hoping to hit a trigger point for Y/N.

Y/N remained frozen, feeling so defeated as she looked at Natalie one last time before she made her way out shutting the door. Tom left. He left because of her and now she was truly alone.

Natalie skips her way downstairs to see Tom on the phone with his agent. He’s clearly distressed about last night and sitting down with his phone in hand. “Germany?! Now?!” He asks. “I..I cant. I have something going on right now. I have to fix this. I cant leave.” He speaks out as the voice talks over him. Tom was in no mood for games and he certaintly wasn’t ready to pack his bags and leave for an emergency shoot while Y/N locked herself in her room thinking he cheated on her with Natalie.

“Please...I need to set this right. I can’t think about work right now—.” Tom pleads.

“Tom, I get it. You’re heartbroken. Y/N’s heartbroken, but this is important. Not coming through with this could damage your career and cost you millions under contract.” His agent regretfully shares. “Trust me I tried to find a way out for you, but there’s no loophole. Natalie’s agents have it in their control and breaking it could mean all your money goes to them.”

Tom placed the phone on his forehead as he tries to channel and calm his anger. Natalie was getting on his nerves by the second. If it weren’t for this stupid contract, he would have never agreed to the PR stunt, let alone..let her live in their house for as long as they had. “Don’t tell me this all because of the fucking stunt.” He grumbled, trying his best to contain the frustration.

“Yes and no. It’s for the movie. They want to start filming and start setting up interviews for behind the scenes. Natalie will be there too, but I can make sure you are allowed to go alone...if it makes it any better.”

While Tom’s agent tried to make his job less difficult...it really didn’t make it any better. He’d avoid another stunt, but it also meant being far away from Y/N, right when she needed him the most. She had to hear the truth of what really happened that night.

Speaking of the woman herself, Natalie padded her way innocently towards Tom. Her arms crossed, her hair slightly fluffed, almost as if she were trying to show the world how soft she was. “You should go.” She says sweetly in her accent.

Tom looks at her in disgust as he tries to back away. “Not like I had a choice.” He leaves Natalie alone, making his way to pack his things. He knocked on Y/N’s door one last time to see if she would answer, but nothing. However, that didnt meant it would stop him from saying what had to be said. “Y/N, look...I know youre extremely pissed at me right now and you have every right to be. But you have to believe me when I tell you that it meant nothing to me at all. I..I..I have to go right now, and leave for Germany, but when Im done with this stupid contract Im coming back for you. I promise.” He laments, sliding a folded note under her doorway.

Unfortunately for Y/N she did not hear a single word that came from Tom. Her body and mental state had made her so overly exhausted, it put her in a state of deep sleep. If she couldn’t face the problems in the real world ar the moment, at least she could escape it in her dreams. So there it laid on the hardwood floor just hidden under the purple tapestry rug, Tom’s heartfelt note waiting to be read.

Tom made it to Germany in two hours time. The whole plane ride, he couldn’t help but wonder if Y/N had listened to anything he said, if she even bothered to read his note to her. He couldn’t worry much about his projects when the woman he loved was hurting again, right after he swore he’d do anything to protect her. The first two days passed ever so slowly. Tom’s anticipation to go back home moved quicker than the seconds on the clock. But here he was, sitting down in a green room waiting to be interviewed, feeling completely useless.

Light footsteps click clacked in the hallway, and the noise started getting closer, it became louder and clearer. Out of the shadows of the hallway was Natalie, dressed in a gold floral dress, with looks that could kill and make any woman envious. “Umm...we still got 30 minutes before we go on.” She smiles, talking ever so gently. Natalie takes the seat beside him on the couch, trying her best to hold on to his hands.

Tom rolls his eyes, yanking them out of her reach. “Stop it Natalie. Im tried of this shit already.” He reacts, distress straining his voice.

Natalie’s smile drops the moment she hears him say those words. “Tom...I was just..”

“No! You are taking this stunt way too seriously. What you did back in London is really shit of you. Taking my clothes, and kissing me without my consent?! What the fuck Natalie?!” Tom raises his voice, the lines on his forehead creasing.

“I thought it was a rather cute thing to do. Besides the people loved it, and don’t act like you didn’t love the kiss. I felt the passion in there.” Natalie justifies, flipping her golden locks as if her action had no consequences.

Tom laughs in disbelief. “Natalie. You ruined my chances with Y/N. I pushed you away the moment you pressed your lips on mine.”

“Why her? Why are you so caught up on Y/N? I told you so many times that she’s not good for you. She’s not even British. I meant what I said about the both of us being great together. Look at the pictures, the reactions. People love us. Thats why we got this lousy interview in the first place.”

“But Natalie...I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this. I love Y/N. I dont care what the whole world thinks. It will always be her.”

Natalie looks at him with teary eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to work. After everything she’s been through, after all the things she did for Unknown, Tom was supposed to be with her. “I don’t understand. You were supposed to love me!” She screams, her eyes burning with fury. “I was supposed to win in the end!”

“You can’t force someone to love you Natalie!” He screams back, his face turning redder by the minute. “Im not some prize to be won.” There’s silence in the room. Breaths heaving and panting as they try to recollect themselves. Tom takes another breath before he continues, “Look, we may have been childhood friends and gotten close, but this doesn’t mean we were endgame. Y/N came into my life and my whole life changed for the better with her. It’s like I can breathe, laugh, see the world in a whole new light because of her.”

Natalie sniffles, looking away as she hears the truth that she can no longer deny. Tom was truly in love with Y/N and no amount of backstabbing, threats, PR stunts, or fights could break them apart. They were meant for each other. “I just wish it was with me.” She whispered.

Tom shakes his head, now talking more gently. “I know, but believe when I tell you, I’m not that guy. Somewhere out there you’ll find someone who makes you feel the way I feel about Y/N every second of the day.” He places his hand on her shoulder as she gently touches it and pushes it away. She could no longer be angry, all the anger had left and was replaced with sadness. Natalie couldn’t help but wonder if this is how Y/N felt after everything she’s been put through. Maybe worse more or less, but was this what a broken heart felt like?

It was time for the interview, and as Tom made his way out, Natalie stayed behind. A change of heart was taking place inside her, and with everything that’s happened, she wanted to set things right. “What are you still doing here? Get your arse into that interview.” Her mother grumbles as she yanks her daughter’s wrist to the door.

“Mother...he doesn’t love me.” Natalie, whispers, her voice almost disappearing.

“I told you, he’ll learn. If you weren’t doing such a lousy job, maybe he would learn to love you.” Her mother rolls her eyes, still trying to drag her out to the room.

Natalie shakes her head holding back. “He won’t ever love me. Tom..he’s truly in love with Y/N, and that’s not something we can ever break. Every obstacle makes them stronger, and even now Tom is still willing to win her back. We can’t win mum.”

“Don’t tell me you’re growing a soft heart now. You’re more to blame than me. Naughty girl, always trying to break them up for your own good. If you weren’t so keen on —“

“No mum! That’s what you wanted! You wanted me to get the fame and fortune. I wanted love..but not like this. Not if we’re forcing Tom to love me when he doesn’t.” She wipes the tears from her eyes before continuing, “Im done with this. With everything. I’m going through this interview and that’s it. I want to set things write.”

“Then I’ll just ruin you and your friends with all the secrets and blackmail we’ve collected. You really want to be a part of that game?” Her mother threatens.

“You cant hurt us anymore, mum. No secret and blackmail will ever be big enough to break them. Every stone has been unturned.” With that Natalie makes her way into the interview where she sits next to Tom, in a very platonic way.

“So Tom and Natalie, tell us about your relationship. How is it going so far?”

Tom and Natalie looked at each other, smiling. Almost as if they were telepathically telling the other it was time to tell the truth. No more secrets. No more blackmail. This was it. The end was near.

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @ifilosemyselfagain @hevjadams @averyfosterthoughts​ @fangirl-with-a-mission @drishtisikarwar @eridanuswave​ @ifntelyinspirit @trumpettay @astridcommings @parkershoco @racewife2004 @sleepybesson @greatpizzascissorstaco @andievgs @joyleenl @holland-bowen @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @viwihere @marvelobsessedteenager @panicattheeverywherekid @oswinO5 @jillanaholland

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

[singeramg]

Are you still doing request for your 500 followers celebration ? If you are I would like to request Nr 4 “Is there a reason you are here?” With Walter Marshall 😊

Oh wow, it seemed this one was supposed to be easy and short. Nope. Didn’t happen that way so here’s part one of three. I hope that you like it and thats much for participating in this!

Title: The Heart Fate Breaks - Part I

Rating: M

Pairing: Walter Marshall ( Nomis/ Night Hunter) / Reader!

Warnings: ANGST!, Implied Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of illegal activity, implied depression, deception, kidnapping, descriptions of violence, but not completely detailed, loss of pregnancy, and of course smut.

A/n: This is my first attempt at Walter Marshall so if he seems to ooc, then let me know ( kindly please), Also there are gifs scattered through this piece and that is because that is how I am imagining him aging throughout the story. Sorry if seeing other Henry Characters throws you off too bad. If I get too many complaints about it I will take them out. Thanks for giving this a chance

Part 1: The end is always closer than you think: 

      This had been a long time coming. Fated is a word many would put to it. You’d spent so much time crying over this man, imagining what the reaction would be once you saw him again that you lost many nights of sleep. Nobody knew the hurt you felt when you realized that all of it had been a lie. That you meant nothing to him. A pawn in a lengthy game of chess all to catch someone else in his net.

You met Marshall back when you were both young, a 18 year old and a 20 something that was still trying to figure out the world. You a young idealistic type, determined to get away from a bad home life and he came in as the bad boy, riding his motorcycle, leathered up, a chip on his shoulder ready to prove to the world he was bad ass, but one look at you and he softened like a stick of butter.

Flashback:

        It had been a typical Friday night. It had been one of your first college parties at least as an actual student. It had been a night of being deemed the Freshman-Fresh Meat and it seemed everywhere you turned some frat was trying to paw you in some misplaced sense of entitlement. You rebuffed many and sent them away holding your drink in hand. You’d gotten bored as the roommate you’d came with didn’t have the same ideals of coming into the party together and leaving together as your phone just dinged with a ‘don’t wait up’ text message from her. You saw a few familiar faces from your Chem. Class, and after a few moments of small talk, you were ready to go back to your dorm, and would have done except, he walked through the door.

He was the type of guy that made you pay attention to him with his tall stature and natural curls, clearly confident, despite having a baby face he was certainly older, and he somehow commanded attention and respect. It was definitely a turn on.  Clearly, you weren’t the only one who noticed him as the sorority girls and other randoms from the party were conveniently finding themselves in his path. You found it interesting that he did it so smoothly, a wide smile and some sort of flirting behavior that got them to move and let him walk through the crowd. Some girlish part of you wanted him to notice you. You wanted him to see you above all the petty makeup and unclothed bodies. It was unlikely to happen so just as you tossed back the rest of the beer from your red solo cup, losing  sight of the gorgeous man and settled for tossing the cup in the overflowing trash. You give a few halfhearted goodbyes as you head for the door but in a twist of fate, you trip over something random on the floor, well actually it was more like something was wet on the floor, but you lose even more chances of staying on your feet, by running into someone else who’d been dancing, he turns around pissed but the missing bad boy catches you in strong arms and defuses it rather quickly.

“Can’t let the prettiest girl in the room crack that face can I?”

His ego is evident in his words. It makes your eyes roll and you straighten up. Removing his hands from your hips, you dust off and step back, not letting yourself become intimidated by his height over you. You put on your armor of fake confidence when faced with an undetermined outcome of a situation.  At your attempted step back he steps forward, not giving you a chance to avoid his cologne and damn him if he didn’t smell like fucking woods, and warmth and everything you liked. You ignore the errant thoughts of climbing him like a tree and push him back, but his grip only loosens, doesn’t actually release you.

“No but maybe she will crack yours if you don’t back up.”

He tosses his head back, loose curls falling away from his face, you bite a sigh at the jawline again.

“Awe is that how’d you repay a man just trying to help?”

He steps even closer but you don’t move back this time.

“Usually no, but for you I’d make an exception.”

“Here I was thinking I’d get a thank you.”

“And I was thinking I’d get personal space. Do you want me to pat you on your back, maybe a cookie?” You know you sound patronizing, but you don’t care. You weren’t ready to give up the ghost yet.

“ I’d settle for your name?”

You can’t deny the big blue eyes that were trying to form something substantial between the two of you.

“It’s Y/N.”

“A beautiful name for the equally impressive woman in front of me.” He is laying it on kind of thicker than you normally go for, but you find yourself unable to turn him away.

“Shouldn’t you return the favor?”

“ Marshall...Walker.”

He offers you and you say to him,

“ Now that we’ve got past the hard part, I must ask Is there a reason you are here? You know still in my face” noting that he was still holding you lightly, He dazzles a wide smile, sharp pointed canine teeth that screams he wants to make you his prey.

“Maybe I am just not ready to let you go.”

The cheesy line works and  you let him take your hand to get another drink.

And so it began...

*End Flashback

       He fell into the place as your protector, nobody ever dared to put their hands on you when he was around, nobody in your terrible family ever even let you see the dark side to what they did again. Mostly.

You weren’t stupid you knew they had been dealing and apart of gang activity for years, but honestly it kept you safe from a lot of outside forces, it just didn’t protect you from the inside.

You were in your 30s now. A decade and a half between the first time you met him and now, you’d made peace that you had done everything you could to escape the feeling of being utterly alone in the world. You were tired. You were tired of putting on a brave face, tired of setting your own standards so high that if by chance anyone could connect you to your family they’d know without a doubt that you managed to land a whole field away from the tree.

You’d had relationships since Marshall but despite everything you couldn’t find that connection in anyone else. The colors had faded with the hurt, leaving behind whispers of memories of time you’d never get back. The memories always hurt when they crashed into you. The late night walks along the creeks and bridges, the talks that lasted hours without trying, how he’d been so gentle in being your first, the way he held you in his arms every time the world got to be too much.

*Begin Flashback #2*

It was a warm summer night, thankfully a breeze came across that made the muggy night just bearable. Marshall had hit it off enough with your family that they had basically adopted him into the fold.

Well everyone except your mother, but she didn’t truly like anyone so it was no surprise he shot thinly veiled insults at Marshall, and he took it like a champ for the sake of loving you.

He worked for them, but maintained a job at the docks too, to help them. Having found time away from his job down at the docks to spend what he could with you made you feel above it all.  He gave you those butterflies in your stomach, made you feel like you could accomplish anything. Despite him getting into the family business he was only doing that so that he could make enough money to take you away from this life. He’d listened when you explained how your family lived and how you tried so many times to get away but they always tracked you down and dragged you back. They barely wanted you to go to college but you’d let them know that if they wanted you quiet then letting you continue your education your way was the only option. You family had always teased you for wanting more but Marshall didn’t. He encouraged everyone of your dreams and pushed you even when you didn’t think it was possible. His duality was astounding for you to witness because he never let anything happen when you were with him, the epitome of strong, quiet, powerful type, a man of very few words, but you always knew he cared. He made sure you wanted for nothing. So when enough time had passed in your mind, you felt he was worthy of your ultimate prize.

Not a decision to come to lightly but you decided that tonight you would give Marshall what many had been hoping to get from you as a means to controlling you or to say they had the untouchable Princess of the local mob family. So many had wanted for you to choose them but you knew it was meant to be Marshall.

So here you were a warm borderline  muggy summer night, spending time just outside the city in the field of a farm in Marshall’s old beat up pickup that he used for transportation, but now cleaned out and blanketed with old comforters and pillows, he’d gotten you away from the chaos of your world, somewhere no one could interfere and ruin it, and made you feel like it was just you and him.

His touches on your body were delicate as he hovered over you, small kisses and few drinks led to heavy petting and an understanding of what you wanted for yourself.

Marshall was it.

Strong hands slide up your heated flesh leaving goosebumps in their wake, folding into your hair, his body pressing yours into the bed of the pickup. Marshall kisses down your neck, peeling the fabric of your sundress off, his following yours, maybe not with the full grace of his hands because yours were shaking, but making eye contact once you lay before him assured you that this was the right choice. The right moment and when he grinds into you, making you hiss and buck into his hardness you pull him down by his curls and kiss him again. Letting him steal your breath away as he always managed to do as he pushes into you, only moments after making you climax on his tongue and fingers, beard burn forming from the stubble he was refusing to shave, from him tasting what you’d been so willingly open to giving him.

“Just breathe. Let me take care of you baby girl.”

You just hold on tightly to the back that has been putting on muscle steadily, as he kisses the side of your face, wiping tears off your skin with such a delicate touch,  and eventually the pain gives way to pleasure. Holding his body against yours, thrusting into you, alternating passionate kisses on your swollen lips to your neck and chest, and letting his hands move all over you once he takes note of you calming down. He feels like he is almost too much, but he just keeps encouraging you. You are making pitiful noises but it just encourages his movement. He knows exactly what to say too as your body gives way to him.

“There’s my girl opening up for me. Taking me all in.”

He grinds for emphasis, pushing his thickness into you harder than he had been and then you moan in his ear again. Soon he is steady, but he is driving you mad, with pleasure. You mildly wondered what had taken so long to experience this, but you also know it wouldn’t be like this with anyone but him.

“M...Marshall yes.”

You feel your walls pulsing against the cock inside of you, trying to force the largeness out of forgein territory but he stays exactly where you need him, even stopping as he pushes you both toward a force stronger than both of yourselves.

“You feel so good...”

His words are like honey pouring over you slow...

*End Flashback*

     It had been more than what you expected. Past the feelings of just lust, he made you feel like nothing could go wrong in this world. The hatefulness of your world, your family felt like nothing in his arms.  

He made you feel like you could do anything.

That had been years ago and now you hated him for it.

You had worked so hard not to feel this weak again but one flash of his picture, years aged came across your TV screen as he received commendation from the mayor had been enough to set you on edge. You don’t know this Walter Marshall.

The longer hair and a thicker beard, he almost doesn’t look familiar, but his eyes. His eyes always gave him away to you. He’d never been able to lie to you with them and his smile.

Turned out those had been the biggest lie of them all.

You’d taken your fair share of losses over the years but you’d also gained. You’d gained a hard earned degree in social work, you’d gained a job that had taken you around the world on missions to save kids, you’d accomplished so much and yet it meant nothing because the feeling of loneliness still persisted. You just purchased a beautiful home far removed from the wasteland of empty feelings and space  you grew up in but it had no life. It had no life because that life had been stolen from you so long ago.

So you go out to have a drink, maybe find a warm body to help you forget the way you felt, but somehow 1 drink turned into only one more but for some reason your head was spinning. You’d know this wasn’t you. You could handle your drinks, but by the time you could mention to anyone that it was sinister doings you were hogtied in some weirdo that had been at the bar basement. It was dark, and cold as you shivered against the concrete. The musk of wood and old damp space invaded your senses as the clothes tied around your mouth stole all the moisture from your mouth and you tried yelling to no avail. The basement door opens the weirdo comes down, his heavy weight no match for yours as he lifts you up from the floor, you kick, you scream, you fight, but he manages to drag you across the floor and down a hallway in that same basement that seems to go on forever, the end is a room. This room has a light but you wish it didn’t. The mattress is filthy and stained in various fluids that you don’t want to name. You mildly wonder if this is how you die.

How many had been in this exact same position as he handcuffs you to the gunmetal colored frame and it shakes barely holding onto your weight. You felt your face wet but you almost didn’t register that they were your tears until a raspy yet cold “my pets don’t cry. Unless I make them.”

You have to be shaking by now as the realization sets in that this was beyond simple murder, maybe beyond rape, he intended on torturing you until you thought death was the gift. You screw your eyes shut, memories of one of the other times you felt worse take over your brain and with no distractions as you normally have, you fall in head first to your own personal hell...

Begin Flashback 3

      It had been a year with Marshall. A full glorious year of just being with him and him protecting you from your family. He’d sat with you through various holidays, played nice with your brothers and father, while working his way up the ranks to where now he was one of the most trusted in the organization. You never questioned how he did it, only that he came home to you. You’d moved in together about two months ago, against the wishes of your mother who didn’t think much of her daughter. In fact she had it made up in her mind that you thought you were better than them, that you were hateful and spiteful when in reality all you wanted was freedom.

You wanted the freedom to love and do what you wanted, not be judged by the legacy of blood your family left in its wake.

You’d only wanted him and Marshall made sure you knew he felt the same. He had a cold streak that could frighten some of the deadliest men you knew. How one look could shut them down and if it didn’t get shut down he...took care of it. However you two were about to embark on a whole new journey.

Parenthood.

Not that he knew. You’d only just figured it out yourself with a handful of home pregnancy tests and then a blood test with your doctor. You loved your child already and he’d talked about a family with you but the time right now was all off, but you knew the kind of man he was would do what he could for you. It wouldn’t be easy but the motto had always been “together”. It didn’t make you any less scared to be a mom which is why despite your strained relationship with your own you went to her for advice.

The house looked and felt just as it did growing up. A large home full of beautiful things but coldness. The lack of cars told you that the rest of your family wasn’t home, which was exactly what you didn’t want. If your father and brothers found out before Marshall, they wouldn’t care how much money he made them, they’d make his life a story of regret from the day he saved you from a face plant at the party. No you had to break the news, but you needed some advice. So you walk in, following the smell of white diamonds perfume your mother loves, up to the grand master bedroom. Taking off your shoes and the maid, takes your coat.

You almost laughed as you walked into the hallways of the house. Before your family transitioned into major players of the drug scene, you remembered the simpler times of a small house, fenced in porch that your grandma would sit on drinking tea and reminiscing as she told you stories about her childhood. Your mom is actually caring about what you wanted and needed. It had been a simplistic time, blissfully unaware of what your father did, your brother just going into high school, and the care of your mother was probably the reason you were pacing outside her bedroom door now.

You knock on one side of the white french doors and wait for an answer like you were taught to do, sweeping your feet across the soft carpet in small half circles.

“Come in Y/N.”

You smirk and open the door , following the light from her en-suite bathroom to where she was sitting at the vanity, putting the last touches on her full face of makeup.

“How did you know it was me momma?”

She laughs at you, a sharp smile on her face, framed by delicate laugh lines, still beautiful on the outside even if you knew how ruthless she could be with what she wanted. You hoped that the joy of a new grandchild would overshadow that you weren’t married to the father first. That he wasn’t some guy of high standing that she’d envisioned married you off to.

“You’ve been fidgety since you were a child, your brothers only knock if it’s an emergency AND your father was here, which considering what he has going on today home is the furthest thing from his mind. Honestly it never is even or normal days dear, but never the less I know you well enough that you aren’t here for just pleasantries.”

So you sigh and look down into her eyes, only because she was still sitting down, but you still felt like a child. Magically, it takes her only a minute and 17 seconds before her eyes widen and she looks at you.

“Oh my goodness *Your full name Here* you are pregnant.”

At her words you drop to your knees at her feet, much like a small child she lets you put your head in her lap as the relief of someone other than your doctor knowing about the life inside of you. She pats your head soothingly and you feel for the first time that she is on your side.

“It’s okay sweetheart. We will be okay, everything will be okay. We can make this go away. Nothing has to change.”

You look up at her this time, confusion filling your eyes and you shake your head.

“No... no that...that’s not...momma that’s not why I care here.”

She looks at you and scoffs, not caring as she stands up.

“Don’t be foolish Y/N. You are still a child yourself.”

You pull yourself to your feet, wiping the tears from your face. Ready to rebel against her thoughts of what you could be and what you were.

“I am not a child mother. I am 21.”

“You are not ready for a child.”

“Is anyone ever really?” You say with an off handed attitude that she clearly doesn’t appreciate. She steps around the chair to get closer to you.

“You most certainly are not. Besides what about all these lofty plans you made for yourself. You are the one who just HAD to go college. We spent all this money for you to go and you want to toss it away by having a child with nobody who can barely afford that hovel you live in much less a whole child.”

Angry she tossed a hand in the air in disbelief of her decision.

“We both do just fine...”

“You do just fine because of us. He works for us. We allowed this to go on for as long as possible because he seemed to keep you out of trouble and more or less distracted. He promised us he would keep you safe, make sure you knew what it means to be with someone in this lifestyle as a true partner, so that when the time comes to let you go to someone worthy...”

“You are lying! You will say anything to get me to do what you want. Marshall loves me and he will love this baby.”

“What did I just say child?! He cannot love you, because if he did he would know this would only hold you back. Your father and I have so much to show you, to give you the keys to be comfortable in such ways we never had growing up and you want to toss it away for a glorified errand boy!”

“ So this is just about control. Just like you always do. You can’t stand to see me happy unless you are the one holding the puppet strings. Well you know what...I am done. All of this is done! Marshall and I raise this child and will be everything that you hoped we failed at. I promise you will never see this child if this is how you view us.”

You turn quickly, determined to get as far away from her as possible, tears in your eyes, you were determined not to let her see you cry anymore. She no longer deserved that part of you.

“Goodbye Mother.”

She says reverting the formal manners she’d paid through the nose for you to develop. She let you get a few down the steps before you hear her race after you.

“Wait! Y/n please wait!”

The pleading tone was new and unexpected for you. You hadn’t heard the tone used for anything other than in childhood when begging your father not to do something stupid. You had never heard her use it in reference to you. She sounded heartbroken and is why you stop. She runs behind you, a step above you as you turn with tears in her eyes.

“I am sorry, Y/N please don’t leave like this. I just worry for you. You are my only daughter and suddenly my little girl isn't a little girl. I didn’t handle it well.”

You turn with a small smile and look at the soft look on her face. Once again not seen much since childhood, but it wasn’t forced.

“ No you didn’t but I guess we can give you a second chance to get it right.”

She wraps both arms around your shoulders and you both let her, touching her hands with a soft pat.

“So tell me, baby doll does anyone else know about this gift yet?”

You feel yourself beaming at her interest, the childhood nickname making you preen, excited that you would have guidance and maybe even get back the mother you’d been missing since you moved into this house.

“No. Actually not even Marshall, I came over hoping you’d give me some advice on how to tell him. I am so nervous.” You say walking slowly because you weren’t close enough to hold onto either side of the railing on the large stairs.

“Oh don’t worry sweetie, I think that will be the least of your worries...”

You turn to look at her but her smile is gone and a strong shove sends you careening down the rest of the steps, terror fills your veins and you panic, your life flashing before your eyes, things you did, things you never got to say. Only sounds of your screams echoing in the foyer. You hear your mother's footsteps as your head spins as you land.

She yells for help, but before anyone can come she leans down and says

“I did this for you.”

You feel the room spinning as you fight to keep consciousness so you could tell someone...anyone about what she did. Just as a maid turns a corner, the front door blasts open with a battering ram. Cops swarm in and you are surrounded, your mother taken to the floor along with unsuspecting maids.

“Help me.”

You manage to breathe out just as you give into the wall of blackness and let yourself fall asleep.

Besides it was more comforting there than knowing your mother had just tried to kill you and your unborn child...

*End flashback 3*

You lost everything that day. Your world shattered on the floor of that marbled foyer and somehow that fear was more than what you felt right now. You wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you cry again. Of breaking you down to that debased state again.

Turns out that wasn’t good enough for your captor. So he provided the physical pain that gave him the tears he wanted. He wanted to remind you that you had no one who actually gave a damn. Maybe death this way was better.

You could be with the one person who hadn’t left you by volition.  You were once again facing that wall of unconsciousness but this time you were tired. Tired of life. The amount of energy it took for you to live was excruciating.

Without him.

Downright impossible.

You should know. You’d tried. So through your muffled whimpers as the weirdo finally decides he’s spilled enough of your blood and has reached where he can get it up enough to desecrate you.

He is climbing over you, the smell of hard liquor pouring from his pores and gross breath and he gets in your ear about how beautiful he thought you were as if that was supposed to endear you to him. You wake up just enough not to just lie there you start fighting back and he smacks you on an already swollen pain, but you fight even more. That bit of fight in you, won’t let this man break you. So you pull against the bindings and try to make it so he has no footing but he starts laughing more.

“There’s the fight. You were getting boring dear. Now... now... now... you really got potential.”

You pray for the ending as he grinds on you but another harsh sound comes as his weight disappears and in the red dim lighting of the room you hear and see the outline of a struggle. Two men fighting for domination of the other but  you didn’t know who would win, though it seemed your rescuer had some height over your captor. A few well placed punches and a hard kick to the stomach and your result is standing to his feet, wiping his mouth and you guessed handcuffing the weirdo.

“ Detective Marshall, Full breech, victim is alive, one suspect in custody, medical request for full evac on suspect and victims.”

No.

The voice. Your obvious head injuries were playing a trick on you.

He fumbles around the dirty room and manages to find the light switch and it hurts you so your eyes slam shut and squeeze tight as a way to protect you and also so that your mind doesn't have to reconcile the voice to the face.

One of many reasons you went out drinking alone in the first place.

He walks over to the bed and helps untie you and you whimper as the blood returns to your wrists and your eyes open to find Marshall sitting in front of you. He brushes blood from your face, and tilts your head up, finally making eye contact as you begin to get cloudy headed again because despite your conscious feelings about him, your body still knew it was safe.

“Y/N?” He sounds as if he’s seen a ghost, and honestly it probably was like a ghost.

“Marshall please don’t leave me.”

Your torso falls forward onto his and strong arms wrap around you and you finally sob yourself into unconsciousness....

A/n: So as always I am requesting opinions! I hope this wasn’t too triggering for anyone and that you are excited for the next two part which hopefully should be up in the next few days, as they are in the editing stage. 

If you feel so moved reblog, like, comment, follow.

TAGLIST: ( OPEN JUST SEND A REQUEST IF YOU WANT ON OR OFF, ALSO IF YOU HAVE REQUESTED TO BE ON MY HENRY TAG LIST BUT DON’T SEE YOUR TAG LISTED, LET ME KNOW ASAP) 

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@msblkfire84 @magdelen69 @peeyewpeeyew @agniavateira @fcgrizi @diehadess @mary-ann84 @snowbellexx @tearsontape13 @tvdplusriverdale @p3nny4urth0ught5 @laxgirl1799 @crazymexicanfangirl @iloveyouyen @oddduckthatgirl @pinkcollectorparadiseblr @sweetybuzz25 @normatural @keiva1000 @cosmoeticss @luclittlepond @radaofrivia @vikingsbifrost @harrysthiccthighss

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #Henry cavil smut #Walter Marshall x Reader #Walter Marshall #fanfiction

[gerrydelano]

pretty unhappy with lonely depot. just gonna get really pissed about ableism and systematic & public discrimination i’ve faced/am apparently still facing real quick. by that i mean i fell down one hell of a rabbit hole trying to just document what’s going on with my job right now and you definitely do not have to read this.

EDIT 8/24/2020: i decided to just compile all my posts about this situation and the replies to put at the bottom of this so i can have it all be in one place/clean things up, and then just round it off with the conclusion that was reached today. mostly for posterity and for myself, no worries.

and here’s a link to the asks i received about this, all of which were very kind!

CW for ableism; harassment; brief mention of a physical assault; brief mention of rape commentary used as harassment; betrayal in general; bullying; discrimination; some caps lock in places

so, as you all know, i’m extremely disabled. 

to put it fairly simply, a 4 hour shift at work knocks me out immediately from the time i get home, and then i spend the entire next day laid up in bed if i can’t get to the living room (usually can, but that’s about it), and then i sleep in until the last minute before i have to go in for the next shift. as in, i literally only get up because i have no choice.

so, working a 12 hour week (4 hour shifts MWF) is already pushing it for me. THAT is already pushing my body’s limitations. do i wish i were able to do more? yeah. would i do more if i could? yeah. do i like being in this much pain all the time? absolutely the fuck not. 

is it harder on you than it is on me? wow. imagine if that were the case.

my boss waited till the last minute to ask me to come back because i was doing better on unemployment and with the reduced hours it wasn’t really necessary for a while. eventually, they needed the third person back - reminder: this staff consists of my manager, the assistant manager, and me the part-time keyholder. that is it. - so that hours could be covered because poor fucking mike was so overworked and i felt so bad for him g-d. 

i wasn’t sure what would fuck my finances up worse. either i don’t take the job back and i lose qualification, or i take the job back and only get $12 per hour for a 12 hour work week, and it’s taxed pretty badly. which is significantly less fucking sustainable in general. if i said no, he’d have to terminate me, which i thought would Really disqualify me from unemployment but apparently might’ve saved me haha oops! great.

so, took the job back. after my first shift, i was in actual agony to the point of a sobbing breakdown the next morning from being in so much pain. i was already in a flare up for the past few weeks and it’s been a bad time for me, but that really drove the nail in.

wednesday morning, i wake up to a texted schedule. two full weeks in a row where i’d be scheduled for 5 days in a row, 30 hours, doing my usual 4 hour shifts tues thurs sat, but wed and fri were 10 am to 7:30 pm. so, like. the entire recovery day i physically need would then be spent doing More work than what BROKE me in the first place.

because i’m not allowed to sit at my job despite him knowing i’m disabled in this way. 

next day i went back, wednesday, i brought ren in with me just to stand guard as i talked to my boss about how either he needs to let me have a stool behind the counter, or i cannot do this job. i cannot put my health on the line for that long and in such a way that i know would absolutely destroy my body. 

it’s humiliating, in a way, but that’s the internalized ableism and the capitalist conditioning. i’d love to be able to work that! except i wouldn’t love it, i just don’t want to be seen as weak or lazy for being this hurt. i’m hurt. i’m constantly hurt. it hurts to exist. i can’t even do the things i love, i can’t sit and write on my laptop, that’s all i even want to be able to do and when i am hurting like that, i can’t do it at all.

that’s not worth it. literally just forcing myself to be in pain just to be in worse pain the next day and repeat it over and over again with NO redeeming quality to the job is not worth it! the job SUCKS. the setup SUCKS. the money SUCKS. it isn’t worth KILLING myself.

so, yeah. i told him this limitation and asked if i could at the very least just bring in a stool to sit on so that i can do my job - which is 100% a reasonable accommodation that would be so easy to just let me have - and he absolutely did not get it.

at first, he’s just like, “you can’t sit behind the counter, period. we can’t have that, it’s unprofessional and against policy. every time the DM has come in here to check the store he’s fired someone for sitting down.”

cool! that’s disgusting, for one, but second: i’m disabled and i need it.

he flapped his hands at the phone and shrugged snidely like, “you can call him right now! go ahead!” in this sort of challenging and mocking way, and i’m like. absolutely petrified because i know for a fucking fact that if i - the lowest rung worker here - were to call the district manager myself to tell him “hey i need a stool so i can do this job,” he would humiliatingly tell me no and have none of the conversation.

it is my boss’ fucking job to stand up for me here, i think. and just fucking say HE will talk to dave and get me the g-ddamn permission to use a stool in order to do this extra work that i am ONLY being forced to do because THEY are forcing john to take 2 weeks vacation to collect a certain benefit that they put off for him when he COULD have taken it during covid closing! this is ALL dave’s fault!

but now it looks like my fault for bailing out when john needs me~ even though i was only given 2 weeks notice that this was even a thing, it was sprung on me so suddenly that if i were to quit and say “find someone else,” they wouldn’t even be able to find someone in time.

john does this thing when he wants to win an “argument.” he stares off into the distance and acts very hurt and personally attacked when i say anything to the effect of, “this isn’t how it should be.”

i had to reassure him that i wasn’t accusing HIM of writing the policies himself, and that i’m saying the problem lies with the higher-ups if they are literally going to deny a disabled person a fucking stool when that is the one thing they need in order to do the job.

“i’ve never worked a retail job where i’ve been allowed to sit.” cool! that should be fucking illegal depending and also just because it’s the norm does not mean it’s acceptable!

“this is why there’s a chair at the back room and a bell in the door, so you can sit for a few minutes and get up when someone comes in.” cool! lately, there is always about 5 people in the store at every given moment cycling in and out and i don’t even have the time to go and use the restroom much less take a five minute sit-down that won’t even help me anyway because that’s not what i need for my disability to be manageable.

“well, when my back was bad that’s what i would do.” cool! i don’t have just a bad back! my legs are shaking right now as i’m talking to you about how the 4 hour shift two days ago put me out of commission in the first place!

this is a FUCKING BOOKSTORE. not even JUST a bookstore but a CRAPPY bookstore where we NEVER have what someone is asking for, the shelves are barren and pathetic, the actual books we have are AWFUL, no one knows we are even Here or Exist, we barely get business during most of the year even though it’s only booming NOW because people were going stir cr*zy during quarantine, we BARELY make ANY revenue, it’s a complete shit show to the point of constantly questioning whether it’s a g-ddamn mob front or something.

but it’s a fucking bookstore! in what world does someone walk into a bookstore, see a clerk sitting on a tall stool and still above the counter (who is in less pain and therefore even more alert and friendly) and go “that’s so unprofessional, fuck this entire establishment!”

NO WORLD THAT I LIVE IN, DUDE!

if i go into a store and see that the clerks can sit, i’m filled with RELIEF because, well, thank G-D you get to sit down! thank g-d you’re not on your feet! 

this place HAS no dignity to preserve, much less dignity that Could be preserved by denying disabled employees with reasonable accommodation that they’re actively willing to purchase and provide for themselves to begin with? it shouldn’t even NEED to be an issue! WHY does dave need to know i need a stool! HE’S IN INDIANA MOST OF THE TIME ANYWAY! why is it even RELEVANT! who cares! who gfucking cares! not a single person in the world should care!!!!

so, john was pretty adamant that dave would say no, but he said he’d call him the next day before work (thursday, so this past day) and tell him what’s up and try to get this for me. he “promised” me that he wasn’t going to paint me as some kind of unreasonable bad guy over the phone and whatnot, etc, as if that’s... what i thought he’d do... and he said he’d text me to let me know what was said, either right after the conversation or after he closed the store.

(he also said “yeah also if you’re in the area tomorrow you could swing by and we can talk in person!” and i’m like. yeah, john, because after all of the time i just spent telling you i need the entire free day to recuperate so that i can move to even come back for my next shift, i’m going to drive out here just to talk to you for five minutes about our ableist DM when you could just FUCKING text me “he said yes/no.” like. fucking pardon me.)

and guess who was not reached out to all day.

but then i check facebook randomly, see. and what do i see? what do i see?

a job posting from lonely depot trying to fill my position! that i was not formally dismissed from, or talked to about. he posted it at noon, and if he could do that, he sure could have texted me to let me know whether dave said yes or no to the g-ddamn stool request.

we had already discussed briefly that if i didn’t get this fucking stool, i’d have no choice but to leave. even if i did get it, i have no way of knowing whether i’d even survive. he asked if i could finish the week and also next week, i said yeah sure, but we said i wouldn’t make any rash calls period until we heard what dave said about the g-ddamn stool.

and then i get ghosted and they post a job listing. 

so, tomorrow i go in and mike is going to be doing the morning shift so i’ll get to talk to HIM about all of this and frankly i am this close to convincing HIM to quit, too, because HE’S BEEN WANTING TO. he needs a better job this one isn’t cutting it for him and he’s looking for a new one and he’s overworked like hell and if they really are dismissing me over this he’s gonna get EVEN MORE fucked over, this is! absolutely ridiculous!

but there’s only three employees, ha ha! john needs us! 

well fuck that, LITERALLY fuck this entire store, they damn well better have a good explanation for this because i swear to g-d. even if they said no and tried to keep me there, that’s STILL an ADA violation and i COULD raise hell over it. but now they’re potentially just dismissing me before i made the decision to walk out over the potential no???? nuh uh. not happening, that’s fucking vile.

so anyway, this is looking like it’s just going to be another one of the many experiences i’ve amassed over time where authority figures in charge of disability accommodations actively screw me over with a refusal when i need one (1) simple thing to get through something that i would not be able to get through without it. 

this is why i had to drop out of university during my very last semester. the literal disability accommodations office refused me an accommodation i needed to graduate, after putting myself through HELL not only academically but with an abusive roommate for 3 years, because “my grades were too good to prove that i needed it.” y’know, because i withdrew from courses instead of LETTING myself fail to prove a point, because i had a scholarship i could not afford to lose. 

and then when i went to ask the lady where she got the information to make that call, she screamed at me in the lobby and then called campus police on me when i slammed the push bar to LEAVE the office. i was LEAVING after she SCREAMED at me and she called campus fucking police and i had to go sit and talk to someone about it and i read this disgusting account of how Aggressive and Demanding and Unhinged i was for being devastated that she took 4 years of my life away from me with one bad judgment of the “amount” i’d been struggling the entire time. i needed to replace One course requirement with an equivalent because i could not get through the language course, with how they set it up. that was all i needed. and this happened.

she, the HEAD of DISABILITY ACCOMMODATION SERVICES, had a well known history of calling campus police on autistic students for stimming in public. called them unruly disturbances and whatever the absolute FUCK else and i’m like why does she still have a job! she is supposed to be taking care of us! she’s supposed to be the one we can count on when no one ELSE takes us seriously! what the fuck! what the fuck!

and this isn’t even getting into what happened last year when i was fired for a transphobic coworker literally putting her hands on me and bodily shoving me across the entire store, and then how i was run out of trade school by an entire classroom full of people who let the blame fall onto ME for 2 girls being expelled for sexual harassment (towards me) and racism (towards literally all the black students) when seven entire people reported them. 

even the other people who reported them joined in to get me, the disabled GNC dyke who had the balls to stand up for myself after spending a whole fucking semester essentially tutoring half the class and helping them pass everything and bringing them fucking snacks all the time, kicked out of fucking school. i caught it on literal audio recording that they were talking about this and about how “power hungry” i am and how “i need to get my ass out of this school if i’m gonna keep doing this” [getting people kicked out - when i fucking DIDN’T.] and i had to literally just quit.

i fought so fucking hard to get there. i scraped myself up off the ground after what happened to me in university and everything before that to put myself through fucking trade school on scholarships and grants i EARNED and FOUGHT FOR, i was the TOP of my class, i was NICE to everyone, i was HELPFUL, i literally held three crying girls in one day and they trusted me to fucking help them and they all literally turned on me to get me kicked out of fucking school at the drop of a fucking hat. 

and don’t even get me started on the one guy who i defended from everyone else because they kept mocking his autistic ass and i was the ONLY ONE who cared about him like genuinely cared for him and then HE CALLED ME A DYKE for reporting sexual harassment where girls were making rape commentary at me after i begged them, crying, to stop and even disclosed Why i need them to stop. HE told me to Get Over It, Mind Your Business, Do Your Job, Go Home, Go To Sleep, Come Back And Deal With It. as if it’s not my business when this is happening directly to me! fuck you! oh my g-d!!!!

so ASK ME AGAIN why we have an alter in this system who specifically formed as a result of corrupt, untrustworthy authority figures who failed and often outright abused us over literally the simplest, easiest, most reasonable things. 

why should the fact that we suffered once be a reason for us to be opened up for further suffering. why should we be victimized specifically because we are already hurt. this has happened to me so many times in life and in so many different environments and situations.

this went on a lot fucking longer than i wanted it to and it sure is a lot of oversharing but i’m just realizing exactly how much systematic crap and discrimination and harassment i actually HAVE faced and it’s just bonkers! it’s bananas!!!! 

no one has ever fucking defended me in a situation like this. situations like this isolate you like cr*zy, so add in already being forcibly isolated through a literal lifetime of abuse and an inability to even get out and socialize and you’ve got a dumb bitch in tatters. no one even knows i exist.

so honestly ask me again why i spend all my time on the computer, like. i don’t have life experience outside of THIS kind of thing, and other unspoken trauma, like! oh my g-d! of course i’m absorbed in my stupid writing projects, i need ONE g-ddamn hobby!

but i can’t do even my one g-ddamn hobby when i’m in so much pain and with so much brain fog after working like that. there is absolutely no point in forcing myself through that when it would at that point 100% diminish my quality of life entirely. there would be no POINT in having a little bit of money because WHAT would i do with it! 

it’d go to doctor’s expenses to Seek A Diagnosis so that we can theoretically heal me FROM THE WORK. which won’t even happen because they never do any fucking tests! nothing comes back! they read scans wrong only to force me to make an appt with a guy who can only see me FOUR MONTHS LATER just to call me fat and tell me i was wrong about needing help!

it’s a cycle! it’s a vicious cycle! and doctors fail me just as hard as jobs and school have. every single time!

no fucking more. no FUCKING more. i’ve got an appointment with my GP next week and my mom AND ren are coming with me and they’re going to corroborate my struggle so i don’t just buckle and accept it when they just talk over me, call me a liar, call me FAT, or just say there’s nothing they can do. 

no fucking more. i’m not wasting any more of my life than has already been taken from me lol i’m finished living like this! i’m tired of being at the mercy of other people. no fucking more.

i almost hope lonely depot fires me because i will raise hell.

EDIT 8/24/2020: okay, adding the other shit now, chronologically.

8/21/2020, 11:40 AM, 62 notes

turns out boss never even called the district manager to ask about my fucking accommodation because "he knows he'll say no" (which is illegal lol) and just posted that job listing on his own and also is still not returning my texts. and he expects me to go in today anyway? lmao???? i should just fucking NOT go. except i should because i have to take the shift from mike, who doesn't deserve this either.

this is a problem right lmao?

update to same post 8/21/2020, 12:32 PM

update lmao

he actually DID call, he just lied to my coworker about it and never told me until i asked him

and then!!!!

he fired me but still expects me to come in (not just today but all next week too) and is now requesting my entire medical history and doctors notes and says i "never told him" about these limitations

because i need a stool in order to do x4 the work we agreed on for me at the start, that he pulled out of nowhere with no warning

okay john have fun trying to pull this on me. keep trying to have this conversation over text just keep acting like this isn't inappropriate and cowardly to boot

he DID talk to the DM! the DM said "it was in your contract that you said you knew the job requirements :)" yeah and this one thing would MAKE ME EVEN BETTER ABLE TO DO THEM. holy shit!

replies to that update: 

tiinykaiju: ...contact mike and be like “hey literally fuck this place let’s neither of us go in,” contact the district manager yourself if you can and explain that john turned down your request for reasonable accommodation & that he said he was going to ask the dm himself?

https://www.eeoc.gov/publications/ada-your-employment-rights-individual-disability and then get the EEOC on their asses.

pigeonbutch: wow!! that's bullshit!!!

csevet: "you're fired but you're coming in for your shift right" oh those clown shoes must be REAL comfy sir!!! please report his ass and tell mike to get out of there too

equalseleventhirds: ABSOLUTELY this is a problem, see if you can get a text from him saying he refused to ask bcos you can use that against him. also if you and mike are the only non-management employees, good news you only have to convince one other person to do a walk out/sick out/etc

also also if he posted that job posting right after u asked him for reasonable accommodations, if he fires u then u will prolly have a case for discrimination, altho actually bringing it to court might be difficult & expensive

me: @/equalseleventhirds he sure did post that without even telling me that i was fired LMAO

equalseleventhirds: HOW can he fire you and expect you in!! that's illegal as hell!! also depending on which state ur in, firing you that abruptly will guarantee you unemployment payments at LEAST, and a good fucking case for a lawsuit if ur willing to go that route

8/21/2020, 1:50 PM, 48 notes

so, i asked for written record of my termination/the reason for it and he said this:

my dude you are the one who said you'd text me after talking to dave, Didn't Do That, and posted a job listing for my position without telling me instead, and THEN said that because of my asking for this it just means i didn't read the contract almost a year ago & "your relationship with this store will be over after next week." how am i supposed to take that as anything BUT firing me.

my dudes i am a good worker i show up early every day i tale shifts i don't need to i cover when i have to i never give him trouble he has only ever given me trouble and guilt tripped me and oh my gd hes that mean girl who calls herself an empath

replies to that:

equalseleventhirds: lmao no he's trying to shift the blame. tell him if this is not a termination you would like these fucking, terms & conditions or w/e written down so you can understand them. tell him you need it to get a doctor's note or something. if it's his day off or w/e tell him you'll get it when he's back at work.

also it absolutely still IS a termination if you can't meet these bullshit conditions and he fires you? it's still a termination. don't say that to him but it IS

also also him saying 'this is why i didn't want to do it over text' means he knows it's sketchy as hell & you can sue over this and that's why he doesn't want it in writing

me: @/equalseleventhirdsRIGHT???? he's so sketchy he even said he wished ren hadn't been there the first time we talked because he knew i needed a witness to keep ME in check and make sure i would state clearly what i need without giving in and lying down. he got uncomfortable with being witnessed

equalseleventhirds: oh what the FUCK he is absolutely afraid of being witnessed. he's also aware that u having support will make u stand up to him more, obvs.

8/21/2020, 6:41 PM, 52 notes

it got worse than anticipated!

my boss sent a vile email to the DM and HR from his personal email (and then deleted it lol, even though it was sent right to the store computer and MIKE opened it and Gaped) which described me as "spiralling out of control," making the situation "hellish," "demanding" things i am not due (but like. i am due a letter of termination. ok.), and other awful purposefully violent words Specifically to make me out as a cr*zy bad person for needing a stool.

the DM in the cc literally summarized the situation to HR as "a returning employee who would rather sit at home and take unemployment benefits" and when i called him, he sure was disgustingly fake neutral about it.

i found out my boss also lies about his hours too! puts down 45 only works 33 leaves early when he shouldnt has 3 day weekends puts too much work on mike's shoulders and traps mike here. he uses his back as an excuse to do that yet when I need a stool Because I Wanted To Stay Here and do my best, now im a DEMON.

and he also lied to me again! and tried to cover his ass by saying he knows what he said (when he literally FIRED ME LOL) but "that decision hasn't been made yet, we'll talk on monday ok have a good weekend ronnie<3"

guess who I'll be talking to on monday john! did you guess my mom's attorney? if so you finally did something right.

----

this exploded so far out of proportion so fast. i asked to be able to sit when the store is empty. THATS IT. i haven’t sat all day today either lol.

i’m so hurt by this i think, like. this happens to me too often and too easily. why is it so easy to paint me this way! is it because i’m a fat disabled gnc dyke who is clearly traumatized by abusive systems? because yeah! i’m p easy to take advantage of in that case!

but im not going to let this one lie lol. no sir! lol!

8/24/2020, 2:00 PM, 22 notes

was going to talk to my boss today because he said we will monday, only for him to lie to me more, tell me we will talk tomorrow instead (when i clock in lol), and then tell me the HR lady is going to call me in approx 10 minutes (1 min now) "is that not correct?"

i wouldn't know john because none of you have told me the truth or gotten back to me when you should have and so i wasn't told this!

apparently it is a 3 way call with HR and the DM so this is going to go spectacularly poorly and my mom isn't here and i am scared it's a trap

replies:

equalseleventhirds: that's rly shitty of him but! good luck!! it's probably too late but mostly just ask for clarification on paperwork and the termination, don't let them distract u!

me: @/equalseleventhirds okay i will try djdkchkd i'm like scared what if they DO give me the stool and i'm expected to get quiet about it yknow? john won't want me in this store anymore anyway bc i sure will make him uncomf lol

equalseleventhirds: if they give you the stool take it obvs, but also make sure that this new 30 hour work week is temporary (otherwise they have to make u full time, and that's not what was agreed upon)

also if you make john uncomfortable being in the store that is gonna make him even shittier. start documenting every shitty thing he does.

he will be looking for a way to fire you/make you quit, which is why you document. ALSO discuss the email & stuff with ur mom's lawyer anyway, bcos that shit was unacceptable even if they ultimately give you the stool, and you may still have a discrimination case.

took them an hour to call me. at 2:30, i told john to let them know i couldn’t take a phone call between 3:30 and 5:00 because i have appointments, to manage my disabilities, that i need to go to and will be busy with for that block of time.

they called me at 3:00. we conferenced in my mom and dave, and it went both poorly and well. poorly in the sense that i don’t think they’re going to fire me, they’ve backtracked a lot, dave was silent. well in the sense that nikki, HR, was very kind and accommodating! and she is doing her best, i trust her well enough (though she did say "i can promise you this is not a discriminatory company we always want to help" which was hilarious and so i had to say oh yeah i believe you, but these two chucklefucks don't seem to feel the same way about upholding those policies.) 

and so i might get screwed into quitting because she might actually try to get me the accommodation, even though now the issue is less me begging for that and more me reporting them for this treatment. 

i then get an e-mail from nikki at 4:45 asking me to call her. i’m like hey, i can’t do that until i get home, but i will as soon as i am. (this just proves john didn’t tell her my time constraint.) 

i call her back at like 5:11 PM, straight to voicemail. she calls ME at 5:51 PM, and i was busy getting my car from the shop (after it broke down on friday while trying to get to work, mind you. jhdbfkhd.) and so i called back again and we did end up having a short call that i ended up needing to pass to my mother because i just got. so overwhelmed.

but! it’s good-ish news. she told me not to come in this week, she’s going to pay me for the shifts, i’m covered. on friday i’m to go see my GP and see about documentation/some kind of note, and then saturday or something we’re intended to figure out my accommodation.

which is ridiculous because by the time that’s processed i will already be in the work week that i Can’t Fucking Do. like they’re asking me to promise i can work this before they even give me what i need in order to do it.

and i sure don’t feel super safe going to work for john again after this! like, at all! and certainly not dave, either! which means i’m probably going to end up quitting, which means i can’t exactly take any legal action or anything despite All of this, which means i won’t be able to collect unemployment of any kind, which means i don’t know what.

it’s not a big deal probably? i’ve survived without that all this time anyway and i currently have a few thousand saved up so i’ll be good for a Hot Minute, i’m just like. OCD catastrophizing about things (especially because vienna, my Lady Justice/Fuck Authority alter has been out to help me handle this and that’s her primary dx, which VERY much sucks) and doing that whole “but what if” “what if what” “what if.” thing kdfhdsh y’know? it’s dumb.

my REAL plan is to probably, like... just. sell my wheelchair because i found that it wasn't the right mobility aid for my needs; not only are my arms too shitty to really push myself for a long period anyway, but it’s a high back/hospital style chair and just! that’s not good for longer term use. 

i’d have needed a prescription for a better one but i had this one for emergencies and i had some lovely donations help me get it a long time ago and it meant so much to me that people helped with it i feel SO bad that it’s not actually something i can continue to use but at the time it was the best option and the only thing available to help me with what i needed.

a cane also doesn't help me, because my arms are shit! i just end up putting all my weight on one side and being kind of. Confused? as i walk? like, as if i don’t know how to use it, or if it’s helping, because it just. isn’t. it’s more effort and ache than it is relief, and it just isn’t for me.

so i’m going to try to get a prescription for a rollator, i think!

it’s a little humiliating but that's purely because of stigma and i need to dismantle that for my own good! we associate it with the elderly or whatever, it’s for some reason one of the more “embarrassing” options that i don’t? know why it got that way, but it’s simply Not True. NO mobility aid is embarrassing.

it’s a good medium for me! i can walk, i’m just real unstable sometimes, and i get exhausted so fast, and my arms are crappy but if i have something to lean on with Both Sides more evenly, it’s definitely better than a cane on one side + a crappy chair that NO ONE could use this way. it wouldn’t have helped me during the 6 month period where i needed the chair so badly, but with what’s going on now, it definitely seems like where i’m settling.

i wouldn't judge someone else my age for needing a walker, so why would i judge myself for it? it's just a mobility aid that would serve me better, that's it. and even if i don't get a prescription, i can probably afford it myself.

i've been covering daily life expenses and two car repairs (like $600 total just in the past month rkgdhdjf) and so it makes me nervous, but i'm not near as bad off as i probably trick myself into thinking i am (because i spent a long time worse off, and have a lot of traumatic conditioning to unlearn lol) and so i'm trying to look on the bright side and just! make plans to fix what i can.

so i’m gonna try to secure that before i try to find another IRL job, if trying to do audiobooks and possibly podcast stuff doesn’t hold up in the meantime. i still wanna try those things because i’m pretty confident in my voice and my reading and my enunciation and my stamina for it, and it can be done from home as long as i have the supplies, and? my voice is kind of. all i have left anymore haha. 

i’d rather do THAT than anything that’s gonna KEEP getting me screwed over like this because it happens EVERY time! so! whatever, man. i think part of why i’m SO worried about the nebulous Retribution they might enact is just because i felt for a while that this stupid bookstore job was the ONLY option i had and i’d NEVER find another job that could work with my limitations like this, but that’s? not true. i’ll be fine. i’m just.

this has been an unnecessarily turbulent week, and i just can’t understand how this was somehow easier for them to do than just give me the g-ddamn stool. 

even if john’s first response had just been “okay, sure, just get me some documentation of your disability so i can send that to HR” right from the start, that’d have stopped ALL of this from happening? but he never even presented that as a requirement or option, he JUST got fucking nasty with me and said no and got threatening and mocking when Assuring me that DAVE would say no, despite knowing the entire time i’ve worked there that i’m disabled.

it’s just bananas, man. i’m gonna try to be at peace with it, though. whenever i quit or am fired or what have you, i’m going to at least tell him where he can stick it and really let him know he’s not near as nice a guy as he thinks he is.

EDIT 8/25/2020: vienna wrote a long document compiling 50 screencaps with annotated context to send to HR, it only looks long as it is Because it’s so many images, but it’s just. the only chance we have to explain everything that’s happened and why what’s happening NOW is beyond unnecessary. again we may even need to quit so it’s just... what have we got to lose, who cares. i just need SOMEONE to know what john’s been doing, so. there it is.

#CWs under the cut at the top #DNT RBLG PLS #like if you read maybe #but good lord no pressure this really is a lot #i just kind of needed to get it out somewhere. #r.txt #disability gang! #i might delete this at some point because oversharing sucks but i'm just. this is what we go through lol. #this really is how it is to be like this. to live like this. it fucking sucks actually. #lonely depot log #edited one more time on the 25th

[aforrestofstuff]

What's the heroes' morning routine to start their day before going to work? Or their night routine before they're going to sleep? (And here is sprinkle of positivity vibes for you today: 😊😉👌💕💞💗💓💝💝💖💖🌟✨🍀🍀🍀🍀💐💐 Have a nice day! ❤)

Thanks for the request, anon! ❤️❤️ sorry this took me so long to get to, hope you’re still around!

Tornado of Terror: I’ve said in a previous hc that she sleep-levitates and wakes up in the weirdest places. So, she’d probably spend 10 straight minutes prying herself out of her bathtub or some shit with hella cramps. After that, she’d spam Fubuki over text message, asking her how to make a cup of coffee for the 57th time, then manage to burn it anyway, and finally go to work salty as fuck.

Silverfang: Wakes up at the crack of dawn, mediates next to a waterfall or some shit, broods over Garou, and makes himself a nice breakfast with a cup of tea. After that, he drags Charanko’s ass up the mountain to do some training, meditate some more, drink more tea, and around then it’s gonna be like 9 AM, so he’d probably just go the fuck back to sleep for a quick nap before actually going to work. Look, he’s old. Let him vibe.

Atomic Samurai: Also wakes the fuck up at the crack of dawn and proceeds to freeload a breakfast off of Iaian, wash it down with some alcohol at 6 in the AM, and complain about the weather. Then, he’d probably run over some sorta training routine with his disciples before doing group meditation and finally, finish it off with another drink. His tolerance is so damn high at this point. He shows up to work while pretending he wasn’t ten seconds away from getting wasted that morning.

Child Emperor: Wakes up rather early (if he even slept at all), runs diagnostics on all of his machinery, does tests on his latest weapons, takes 7 decontamination showers, and then makes himself a hearty breakfast consisting of Froot Loops and choccy milk. He shows up to work early and energized, running solely on his 87th lollipop and the single shot of espresso he had that morning. If it’s a weekday, he’d wait off on going to Association headquarters and teach a few classes at the local university instead. He’d then go to work in the middle of the day, grading papers and dying internally at the dumb shit his students say. He keeps a mental tally of how many people forget to write their names on their assignments. He’s suffering.

Metal Knight: Upon slapping the shit out of his alarm clock, he rolls out of bed and commands one of his bitchbots to make a Michelin-Star quality breakfast for him, then proceeds to stalk to the bathroom. He doesn’t shave or shower. He just takes a 45-minute shit because he’s forced himself to go to the bathroom once a day to “save time” when it, in fact, does not save time. After that, he takes a decontamination shower before entering his lab (also another 45 minutes because he’d spend the whole time je— nevermind) and doesn’t show up to work at all because he’s a little bitchboy hellbent on building Skynet in his mom’s basement.

King: Wakes up, cries, plays video games, cries some more, eats some cereal, takes a shower, cries, calls Saitama over, plays video games, Saitama leaves, cries. Then, he’ll show up to work for a single meeting at 4 PM just so everyone knows he isn’t dead, have an anxiety attack, go home, and then cry (while having another anxiety attack). After that, he’ll play video games until 3 AM. Rinse and repeat.

Zombieman: He’ll wake up at 3 AM and then sarcastically open his blinds like “oh wow, what a beautiful morning”. He’ll make himself a hearty breakfast consisting of leftovers, some protein pills, and half a pack of cigarettes. Next, he’ll shower, shave, and do some routine vigilante detective work out in the town before coming back home just as the sun is beginning to rise. After that, he’ll take a thirty second nap and walk his ass to work (because his car has been in the shop for like, seven years) so he can vibe for 3 hours before throwing in the towel and isolating himself for the remainder 18 hours of the day because depression.

Drive Knight: he sleeps plugged into the wall like a Samsung. Either that, or he’s solar-powered.... or maybe he runs on AAAs. I don’t know, but his ass ain’t waking up like everyone else. He’d power on, do some routine checkups on his laboratory or whatever the fuck he’s got going on, and then show up to work for 3 seconds only to dip the fuck back out and go poach some endangered monster species for his collection or some shit. Look, he’s a robot.

Pig God: wakes up at 10 AM like a king and eats a small breakfast consisting of three rotisserie chickens, a whole pot of rice, 57 eggs, and a cool glass of milk (because calcium is important, kids). He’d spend 4 hours on the internet before he gets hungry and decides to go outside, stopping to casually devour an entire species of demon-threat monsters in the middle of the street while simultaneously traumatizing every single child living in a 3-mile radius in the process of doing so. After that, he’d do some hero work for like 30 minutes (and somehow eat like, 200 living things in that timeframe), go back home, and then indulge himself in a 17-hour food coma. He’s earned it.

Superalloy Darkshine: Homie wakes up at 5 AM, works out for two hours, takes a shower, and eats a breakfast big enough to feed a small family of 19. After terrorizing every health expert in the country with his buckwild diet (ironic considering Pig God exists), he hits up his bro Tanktop Master for another 2-hour workout. He then proceeds to take 3 seconds getting dressed in his hero uniform because it’s literally just a thong, and goes to work for a full 8 hours because he’s a good boi who takes his job seriously and genuinely wants to make the world a better place. :)

Watchdog Man: wakes up, pisses on a fire hydrant, eats dog kibble, sits on his pedestal in city Q, and then gets dressed.

Flashy Flash: wakes up in a forest somewhere because he���s probably homeless. The local birds flock around him and sing a morning song. He feeds a baby deer like a Disney princess. Then, he bathes in a waterfall and spends two hours doing his hair. After that, he buys himself a fucking bagel and takes his ass to work smelling like the inside of a Cabella’s. He vibes at HQ for like, 30 minutes, before traveling 500 miles away on his 57th quest for revenge and ends up breaking a record for “most homicides committed by a hero” on the way there.

Genos: wakes up, makes breakfast for Saitama, takes a shower, and spends half an hour doing chores while Saitama bums around with a yolk stain on his pajamas. Then, he’d hit up the professor for any news about upgrades, and go on about his day handing out justice as he sees fit until Saitama suddenly gets the urge to go buy some cabbage. It’ll be another 2 hours of walking around the inside of a grocery store while holding 2 grams of food (because it’s all Saitama could afford, broke ass) before he actually goes to hero HQ for a single meeting (while Saitama tags along), and then slaughter 87 monsters on his way home.

Metal Bat: wakes up at 6 AM because it takes him 8 years to do his hair. He’d wake up Zenko about an hour later and tell her to get ready for school while he hauls ass downstairs to make breakfast (burnt toast and 8 Flinstone vitamins). They walk to Zenko’s school together. He takes ten minutes to shower her with love, and then he turns back around to walk to his own school only to show up like, 45-minutes late to his first class. He only attends hero meetings on weekends because A. Homework and B. He doesn’t give enough of a shit to juggle official hero business and school in the same day (unless it consists of a monster/criminal [or 12] in need of a beating).

Tanktop Master: same as Superalloy. He wakes up at dawn, works out, eats enough to feed a small army, and then calls his actual army over for a meeting. He and the gang discuss ways to better represent the Tanktop ideology over tea, while also sharing workout tips and just having a good time together in general. Around then it’ll probably be 8 or 9 AM, so he’d join Superalloy at Hero HQ and do hero work for the rest of the day alongside his homies. He’s living the life, honestly.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: he’s in prison so he’d wake up at 8 AM on the clock every day, eat his nasty-ass breakfast (although, I’ve said in a previous headcanon that he gets special meals prepared for him on account of being a literal superhero, but I digress), and then he works out in the courtyard for a good hour before going to work in the cafeteria for 3 bucks a day (or the yen equivalent). During visiting hours, he and his boyfriend are inseparable. They’d make some crafts together, gossip, and just hang out. If there’s a threat in the area, Puri will waste no time busting himself out and hugging that shit to death. A true icon.

Amai Mask: he either wakes up at 10 AM or 2 PM every day, there’s no in-between. He’d spend his morning doing every self-care routine under the sun: taking a warm bath, doing a face mask, eating a good breakfast (prepared by his own personal chef, of course), listening to an audio book, you name it. If he has a concert that night, he’d spend the entire day surrounded by people as he gets ready/rehearses/prepares. If not, he’ll just patrol the streets, handing out autographs and some slices of justice. He wouldn’t really show up to any meetings or do official hero business at HQ unless he’s in the mood to cuss out Sekingar and Sitch over some stupid shit or insert himself in S-Class business.

Iaian: wakes up earlier than any of the other disciples and Atomic Samurai because he’s like, responsible or whatever. He meditates, showers, does his own personal routine, and then kicks everyone out of bed for breakfast like an angry suburban mom. After that, he’d participate in everyone’s routine training, and then take his ass to work while showing up to every meeting at HQ (sometimes tagging along with Kami) because he’s a good boi and he has no problem engaging in business. :)

Okamaitachi: She sometimes wakes up with Iaian, but sleeps in most of the time because she needs her beauty rest, obviously. After breakfast and participating in everyone’s training routine, she’d do her hair/makeup and go do her own hero work the majority of the time. She’d sometimes tag along with Iaian, but she prefers to go on her own every so often. If she has some extra time before breakfast, she’ll also do a face mask or catch up on her favorite soap operas.

Bushidrill: this motherfucker sleeps like a log and Iaian wants to kill him for it. He wakes up like, 2 seconds before breakfast and hasn’t shaven in a month. Still, somehow, he manages to get ready in time for training without Kami trying to assault him for being a doofus.

Fubuki: She wakes up hella early and texts her herd of hooligans the daily plan before dealing with Tatsumaki’s shit over the phone. Then, she showers, does her hair, and takes fifteen minutes to get her makeup done right. It doesn’t take her long to plan out her outfit because she has like, 87 black dresses. After an actual hearty breakfast (unlike the rest of these clowns) that she makes herself, she meets up with the blizzard group to discuss business and engage in hero work together as a ✨team✨. She never gets asked to participate in official business by HQ because Tatsumaki strictly forbids it.

Saitama: he brushes his hair and sits on his ass all day.

Mumen Rider: wakes up at dawn, feeds the cats outside, eats a good-ass breakfast (despite being poor, because he’s actually really good at budgeting), and goes out for a nice, morning patrol. He’ll also call his mom and make sure she’s having a good time because that’s important. If it’s not a busy day, he’ll go to the gym and treat himself to some time at the park afterwards. If there’s monsters all about, he’ll spend the rest of the day in the hospital after getting his shit rocked for the 300th time that week. They’ve basically got a bed reserved for him at this point. He’s so pure but so, so selfless. And a little dumb. But mostly selfless.

#one punch man #opm #opm headcanons #headcanon #tatsumaki #silverfang #atomic samurai #child emperor #metal knight #king #zombieman #drive knight #pig god #superalloy darkshine #watchdog man #flashy flash #metal bat #genos #tanktop master #puri puri prisoner #mumen rider #amai mask #iaian #okamaitachi #bushidrill #fubuki #saitama #asks

[curiousview-blog]

In spite of, not because of: the myth of the ‘high functioning alcoholic’

For 18 weeks now, I have been sharing my writing: ‘How to stop drinking: A guide for normal people’. It’s a series in which I am sharing my reflections on living, and staying sober, in a fun, honest, down-to-earth way to show that an alcohol-free life is possible. Previous chapters can be found below on www.samwarren.net

For a long time I wore my ‘high functioning alcoholic’ badge with pride. It’s a term used in psychology and addiction sciences to refer to heavy drinkers who – as the name suggests – by and large, have functioning lives, and may even be over-achievers. I’d fall into that category for sure. My friends and I romped through our 20s and 30s being very successful, while lurching from drunken adventure to drunken dramas. During my most chaotic drinking years, I raised two teenage boys, achieved a PhD, a string of academic publications, teaching awards and research grants, which culminated in securing a tenured Professorship within five years of graduating from my doctoral studies. Finally, aged 40, I moved to a different part of the country for the first time in my life. No-one could ever accuse me of fitting the pattern of ‘the typical alcoholic’ down-and-out – crashing cars, losing jobs, shoplifting, being homeless and all the other wildly inaccurate assumptions we make about alcoholism.

The new Dr. Warren throwing her hat at graduation (2006)

Lots of my academic friends were/are heavy drinking high achievers, and if you’re reading this as someone who’s questioning their drinking choices, I have no doubt that you’ve also stacked up successes in your life while spending half your life (or more) drunk – career, family, even sports? And this is what stops us from stopping because nothing has got so bad that it gives us a sobering slap in the face. Never mind that all these achievements are marked by extreme pressure, chaos, remedial work, lies and the need to push through debilitating hangovers with violently shaking hands, and heads down toilets… We’re the high functioning gang, right? Hell, we NEED this mess to do our best!

I once got ‘accidentally’ paralytic the night before flying to Dublin to do a research interview. On the audio recording you hear me excuse myself to go to the bathroom to be sick. Later, the taxi had to pull over so I could dry retch into the gutter. High functioning? High functioning shame, more like. Another time, on the night before the first day of term, we had a lock-in at our local pub. It was a Tuesday night. I went out at 10:30pm ‘for one’ with the pool team to share their post-match sandwiches and don’t remember getting home. Somehow I managed to pour myself onto the train after 4 hours sleep max, still drunk, and take my opening class. I was more worried about the fact that I had hairy legs and was wearing a summer dress than I was about the fact that I was about to teach a class whilst intoxicated. I have SO MANY stories of conference benders, two hours sleep and throwing up minutes before I presented important work… crawling into work almost on my hands and knees to teach, or pulling all nighters to make up lost drunk time in the days and weeks before to meet my deadlines. It was addictively exciting. I told myself I loved it.

Art of Management Conference (2004) The night culminated in a tequila bar at 6am. I missed the whole of the next day’s sessions as I was so violently ill. I probably earned kudos for it.

I’m not telling you this to show off my stripes. I’m not recounting these tales as part of the glorification of getting pissed in our society. I’m telling them to myself (as well as you) because I need to remember how unbelievably shit it was. I’m telling them to counter the rosy memories I also carry with me, that in a funny old way I miss those days. It’s what I used to believe made me interesting. Wild and funny. As you’ll read in various ways in these posts, I am a person who enjoys intensity – the rush you get when you pull something off against the odds is incredibly seductive for me. Rather than standing as a clear lesson not to ever do that IDIOTIC thing again, instead my adrenalin pumps and I think FUCK YEAH!!, high five-ing myself and anyone in reaching distance. All I ever remember from that experience is ‘Ha! I can do this, no sweat… Now quick, get the beers in, my hangover is thundering in’…

I still have the same patterns in my life now I’m sober. I’m an accomplished procrastinator and replicating the same kind of frenzied deadline pushing. So its slowly dawned on me that maybe my achievements were in spite of the drink, not because of it. I need the excitement and pressure of having too much to do in a short space of time, and a big lesson from my sobriety has been to see that drink was just a tool of these behavioural traits and not the root cause. If you are the kind of person who puts everything off until it’s almost too late, taking on so much that its humanly impossible to get through your to-do list, or someone who works in erratic bursts of energy interspersed with long naps and faffing time, then you’ll still be this person when you’re not drinking too.

It’s been a while since I wrote these words and my reflex is to feel more than a little sad that over three years later this kind of procrastinating pattern is still happening in my life. Not least because I boldly wrote a post on this blog a few years ago declaring my procrastination habits were gone for good!! But maybe it’s just something about me I need to accept. I am a ‘just in time’ person, and actually I do some fucking brilliant work against the odds. And it was not alcohol that drove the great work, but me. Elizabeth Gilbert talks at length about how much she detests the ‘tortured artist’ stereotype in her book Big Magic – that somehow we have to be anguished, or behave like an utter c*nt to those around us in order for our creativity to fly. I think the idea of the high-functioning alcoholic is very similar and it’s yet another myth that ensures we continue to drink. I did great work, even though I continually put the most debilitating blocks in my own path to see how badly I could trip myself up. And what that taught me was to hurdle and swerve extremely well, I won gold in that race and it’s still paying dividends. This post is a day late because I left it to the last minute to edit. What beautiful synergy.

#alcoholism #alcohol culture #women and alcohol #academia and alcohol #heavy drinking #stop drinking #control drinking #quit alcohol #stop alcohol #addiction #high functioning alcoholic #control alcohol #women's writing #big magic #recovery