#or doing a business / marketing degree to help with my writing

[atomicami]

cami would you write a sub abby? like maybe where she needs your help to get off?🤭🩷

my sweet dani, that mind of yours truly is incredible…i wrote this one just for you querida 🤍

close call

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: it’s the night before the annual bake sale, and abby needs your touch now more than ever.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel & jerry are still alive (jerry is not a doctor in this), reader has a business degree, abby gets needy, sneaking out, oral & fingering (a!receiving), masturbation (r), abby whimpering and begging?? and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: well if i’m being honest i really did not expect to be writing another contractor!abby fic so soon, but this request gives so much desperate contractor!abby energy that i just had to do it. however i do have to clarify that this is not a part 3. i’ve stated this before in one of my asks, but part 3 is going to be more about the bake sale…this is just more of a little bonus chapter i guess.

anyways, this one’s for you dani, and for all of my contractor!abby fans out there that need a little pick me up rn. i hope y’all enjoy it 🫶🏻

You didn’t expect to be doing it again so soon.

After you had snuck your way out of work to go see Abby at her father’s contracting site, you have to admit that the rest of this week flew by surprisingly fast for you.

You had been keeping yourself occupied in the meantime, between doing customer calls at work and preparing for the bake sale, you’ve been quite patient with yourself and didn’t feel the need to have to sneak out again until the next time you’d plan to see Abby. It was almost as if you simply had just been sick that day, and Abby’s touch was the remedy that cured you.

Although…there might be a feeling that you’ve jinxed yourself in saying so when you receive a phone call the night before.

You spent the morning on your work shift as usual, and your dad was generous enough to let you go before lunchtime so you could start baking for the sale tomorrow. After spending the rest of your day prepping, mixing, baking, and decorating, you were left with a variety of fresh pastries by sundown, ready to sell the next morning.

By the time you finished cleaning up the kitchen and getting ready for bed, the clock struck 10 p.m. Normally you’d stay up a little longer, but after the exhausting day you’ve had today, you genuinely needed to rest for tomorrow. You had to be downtown by 7 a.m. to set up at the farmer’s market for the bake sale. Given how weary you were, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

However, you were only able to get a few hours of sleep in before your phone began to ring.

The sound of your ringtone startles you awake. Letting out a tired groan, you muster up the energy to reach over to your nightstand to turn on your light and pick up your phone to see who was calling you.

“Abby?” you whisper to yourself, rubbing your eyes to get a better look at the screen. Once you do, the phone call disappears and your lock screen shows with the missed notification, giving you a chance to look at the time.

It was barely past 1 a.m. Why the hell was she calling you this late?

Her contact name shows up once again in a second call, and this time you swipe to answer.

“Abby…what is it?” you answer groggily to her.

“Hey…are you awake?” she asks shyly.

You roll your eyes before responding. “I am now.”

“Look, I’m sorry if I did wake you up, but I really need you right now…”

Her words start to replay in your head. The tone she had in her voice…she didn’t sound like her usual, cocky self. She sounded desperate…kind of like how you were the last time you saw her.

“Abby, it’s one in the morning…what is it that can’t wait until later?”

You knew what she was asking for, you just needed to make her say it. Kind of like how she made you tell her last time.

“I um…I can’t get myself off,” she muttered back. It was quiet, but not quiet enough to where you couldn’t hear her.

You simply nod, soon remembering that she couldn’t see you right now. “Alright, um…do you have your boxers on, then?”

“No—I mean, yes I do, but I don’t mean this…I need you to come over.”

You scoff at her through the phone. She truly can’t be serious. Having to do this over the phone would already be difficult enough for you. But to sneak yourself out in the middle of the night to do so? It was going to be too much.

“Abby, you can’t be serious right now—“

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that…My dad isn’t even home right now, please?”

“Okay, but my dad is.” You reply to her instantly. “There’s no way I’m gonna be able to get out of my house without waking him up.”

You keep trying to tell her that it’s not going to work out, but Abby continues to beg about it. As much as you wanted to, it clearly wasn't the right time to do so. But eventually, you just had to give in.

“Okay, fine! I’ll come over…” you said, quickly lowering your voice down. “Just…just give me five minutes.”

After hanging up the phone, you get up from your bed, taking the time to stretch in the process. Grabbing the first pair of shoes you find, you quickly slip them on before grabbing your phone and keys and exiting your room.

Once you’ve shut the door, you begin to tiptoe down the hall as to not wake up your father. The door of Joel’s bedroom was slightly cracked open, and you could see that he was fast asleep. You quietly pass by his bedroom and make your way down the stairs, praying that the wood doesn't start creaking from the weight of your footsteps.

Before you know it, you’ve successfully made it out the door, and you begin to cross the street to Abby’s place. Once you’ve made it to her front door, your phone buzzes again.

“Abby: there’s a spare key under the mat.”

Jesus. The least she could’ve done was to have let you in her own house, especially since you had to do most of the work sneaking yourself out.

You reach down and slide your hand under the doormat, quickly finding the key that was hidden underneath before unlocking the door and letting yourself in. It’s the first time you’ve been inside Abby’s house, and you’re not bothered to even get a good look at it, you just needed to find her right now.

After wandering throughout her house for what feels like forever, you finally find her bedroom. Not even bothering to knock, you simply walk in to see Abby lying in the center of her bed, her long blonde locks draped over her shoulders, and her muscle tank covering her top half while the rest of her body was covered with her duvet from the waist down.

“Hey,” she pants out, propping herself up on her bed to get a better look at you. “I’m so sorry I had to—“

“Sit up,” you tell her, cutting off her sentence.

“What?”

“You heard me. Sit up.”

You then walk your way over to the left side of her bed and kneel on the ground, causing Abby to scramble around and sit up from her bed. Once you’re settled on the ground, she’s got her legs hanging off the bed, and you can see that she doesn’t have anything on underneath.

“Thought you said you had your boxers on,” you told her.

“I-I did…I just couldn’t wait for you to get here…” she replies, looking away from you as she does so.

“And you say I’m the needy one…” you mutter to yourself. You then spread Abby’s legs open, revealing her pussy to you. Despite how truly annoyed you were that she made you have to sneak out in the middle of the night, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be touching her like this right now…because your mouth was practically watering at the sight of her wet pussy.

Without hesitation, you insert two of your fingers inside her. Her body jerks back for a moment at the sudden touch, before soon settling down, letting her pussy relax around your fingers.

It seemed like Abby was trying to compose herself right now because you could hear how hard she was trying to hold back her whimpers and whines as you kept slowly pumping your fingers in and out of her.

“M-More…” she whispers out to you, trying her best to not sound needy.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You asked, eyes still fixated on her pussy.

“I-I need more, please…” she responds, her voice just a little louder this time.

You look up at her as your fingers continue to move inside her pussy, your movements not stopping as you maintained eye contact with her. “I’m gonna need you to be more specific than that, Abigail, or else I’m not giving you what you want,” you tell her sternly.

You can easily see her trying to hold back her frustration right now, and you were honestly enjoying it. The fact that you’ve put her in this state of submission outside of her usual cocky persona truly has you beaming with pride.

“I—fuck—I need your mouth, p-please…” she whines out to you, hands gripping onto the sheets as your fingers curl into her g spot.

“See, there you go…That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” you tease back at her before leaning in and attaching your mouth to her clit as you continued to finger her.

It didn’t take long for the speed of your fingers to increase inside her pussy and for your mouth to suck harder on her throbbing clit. Between the pleasure you were giving her and the whimpers and moans that were escaping from her mouth, you can’t help but feel the need to take care of yourself down there.

As you continue to eat Abby out, your non-dominant hand begins to trail its way down into your shorts and slide below your underwear. You instantly feel a sense of relief once your fingertips reach your clit, rubbing it gently as you continued to give Abby the pleasure she needed.

You began to whimper and moan into her pussy, the vibrations from your mouth causing chills to rush through Abby’s body as she tried to chase her orgasm.

Her pussy soon began to clench around your fingers more than usual, indicating that she was close. You briefly removed your mouth from her pussy to speak to her, quickly replacing it with your thumb in the meantime. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?” you asked, looking up at her.

Abby nodded quickly in response. “Y-yes, fuck, p-please don’t stop…” she whined out, quickly grabbing your head with one hand and pushing it back into her pussy while her other hand grips onto the edge of her bed.

You were practically being suffocated in between her strong thighs right now, but you could honestly care less. You weren’t stopping until she finished. You continued to desperately moan and whine into her pussy as you kept rubbing your needy clit with your other hand, trying to chase your orgasm as well.

“Oh fuck, baby, right there, I’m gonna—Fuck!”

Abby tried her best to warn you, she really did, but before you both knew it, her release was already spilling out of her pussy and onto your fingers and mouth, causing you to greedily drink up every last drop of her before slowly removing your mouth and fingers out of her.

Once Abby had recovered from her orgasm, she looked down at you just in time to see you take your other hand out of your shorts. She kept her eyes on your fingers, admiring how they were covered in your release as a result of the pleasure you just gave to her.

She brings her hand down to your chin and lifts it to meet her eyes with yours. The deja vu feeling was hitting her now the second she saw your pupils blown out once again, just like how you were not even a week ago when you went down on her under her desk while she was sitting across from her father.

You hesitate for a moment before soon making the effort to stand up to her height, bringing your two fingers that were coated in your slick up to her lips.

“Clean them up,” you commanded.

Abby nodded as she held the hand that was put to her mouth before parting her lips and sucking your fingers clean. Her eyes were trained on yours, maintaining eye contact as she did so.

“There you go, just like that…” you mutter out to her quietly.

Once they were clean, Abby removed your fingers from her mouth, making a slight pop sound as she did so. You lean in to plant a kiss on her lips, tasting a bit of yourself from her lips and vice versa. You then reach down to grab your phone and keys before walking towards her bedroom door to leave.

However, you pause in your tracks for one moment and turn your head around to look at her fucked out self one more time.

“I’ll see you at the bake sale.” you reminded her, that same smirk appearing now on both of your faces before you turned back around and exited her bedroom, now leaving her by herself.

Well, it’s safe to say that Abby was going to have to return the favor for you real soon.

- a/n: i have to admit this one’s not my best work, it was my first time writing sub abby y’all believe me i tried my best 🙏🏻

also, i don’t usually self promote my fics but i did post my first dina fic the other day, it’s called overnight sensation and it’s a smau series. i’ve spent a lot of time and effort in making that fic so far so it’ll truly mean a lot to me if you guys could check it out 🤍

but other than that, i’ll see you guys in part 3!

tags 🏷️: @abbyscherry @whore4abby @zombholic @aouiaa @uraesthete @lia-winther @gaptoothedlesbo @deadbolted @abbysfavewh0rx @echostinn @mochiivqi @floptron @totallyghostdgirl @swtsuna @bellaramslover @naomis-daydream @ur-fav-pixi @sirenbxby @paprikahoernchen @thesevi0lentdelights @mostlyhornyandsad @tohoko

(^ i think that’s everyone?? let me know if i missed anyone/if you’d like to be tagged in the real part 3 LOL)

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

#abby anderson #contractor!abby #abby anderson x female reader #abby the last of us 2 #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader smut #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x you #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #the last of us x you #wlw #the last of us x reader #the last of us part 2 #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou2 x reader #the last of us abby anderson #the last of us 2 #abby anderson x you

[thetriumphantpanda]

Cruel Summer | Javier Peña (Chapter Five)

Series Summary | Javier Peña is back in Laredo, this time for good. He hadn’t banked on you still being there, especially not with a wedding ring on your finger. A complicated shared history and plenty of unresolved feelings between the two of you should make for an interesting summer.

Pairing | Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count | 5.2K (oooops, I got carried away)

Warnings | Descriptions of domestic abuse (not from our boi Javi), talk of injuries, infidelity, cheating, SMUT, oral (f receiving) and unprotected PiV sex (please don't do this, be smart and safe), mentions of alcohol, cigarettes, and pregnancy.

Authors Note | Thank you all for being so patience with me whilst I got my head back into writing this. This took me ages to figure out in my mind but I'm so proud of what I've managed to produce. I really appreciate hearing what y'all think of this series, comments and reblogs really do make my day with this - so if you enjoy it, let me know!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Ethan is furious. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so angry before. He’d arrived home late last night from his business trip, falling into bed sometime past midnight. He’d tossed and turned for a while as you pretended to be asleep next to him before he turned over, pulled at your arm to turn you onto your back and then crowded on top of you. You’d let him because it was easier than denying him, but when he pushed himself inside of you all you could think about was Javier. 

What would he do in this situation? You’d like to think he’d at least take some time to make sure you were enjoying yourself. Was he the type of man who would spend hours with his head between your thighs just because he liked the way his name fell from your mouth? You think he would be. Would he whisper sweet nothing’s into your ear in Spanish whilst he was buried deep inside you? God, you hoped so. By the time Ethan was spilling himself inside of you and rolling over, leaving you, as he always did, completely unsatisfied and feeling completely used, all your brain could focus on was the animalistic need to know exactly what Javier would do to you in bed. 

Now, as Ethan stands in the kitchen, fuming after he found the wads of cash from your farmer’s market sale, all you wanted to do was run. Run from this pathetic life and into whatever it was that Javier could give you. 

“I fucking told you I would get around to sorting it out!” He shouts at you, “And you had to go and completely disobey me! How does this make me look?” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, “Ethan, it’s been pushing one hundred degrees the entire time you’ve been away, I need that new AC unit because otherwise I’m going to die in that shop, and I think a little bit of embarrassment is better than admitting to the town that I’m dead because you couldn’t be bothered to fix it.” 

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” He fumes, his skin flushing red, “I bet that asshole Peña had something to do with this.” 

“Because now every time I do something you don’t like it has to involve him?” You raged, “Newsflash Ethan, I’ve been doing things you don’t like since before we got married, and that certainly had nothing to do with Javier and everything to do with the fact you can’t stand me.” 

“Did he have anything to do with it?” 

You don’t know why you don’t lie in this moment. Maybe it would have been easier, less of an argument to deal with, but you can’t help yourself, “Maybe he did.” 

“I fucking knew it!” Ethan slams his fist down on the kitchen counter, “That asshole, trying to worm his way into my family, walking around this fucking town like he’s some sort of king because he took down Escobar,” You can’t help yourself but think that you might actually be able to see steam coming out of his ears soon, “And you!” He’s pointing a finger at you as he rounds the counter, “How many times do I have to tell you to stay the hell away from him, or are you just too fucking stupid to understand me?” 

It all happens at once. You’ve slapped him hard across the face and in this moment, you can’t tell which of you is more surprised. He’s stood inches away from your face with a look in his eyes that has panic settling in your stomach. He could kill you if he wanted to. It’s the first time you’ve thought he might, with his chest heaving and his eyes like daggers. You’re scared. 

“How. Fucking. Dare. You.” He spits out into your face, he’s got wide hands placed around the tops of your arms and before you know it your back is pressed against the wall, he’s squeezing the skin so hard that you’re crying out, “Someone needs to teach you some fucking respect.” 

If you weren’t so frightened, you’d have some stupid retort about the fact that it certainly couldn’t be him, because even with a ring around your finger you could never respect this man in front of you, but you keep your mouth shut. 

“Ethan please,” You whimper, “Please let me go, you’re hurting me.” 

“Oh, I’m hurting you, am I?” He jeers into your face, squeezing his hands around your arms even harder, “You should have thought about that before you fucking slapped me, stupid girl.”  

He pulls you back from the wall slightly before slamming you backwards again, the force of it causing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you, “You better lose the attitude or I will take us so far away from this place you’ll never see your stupid friends or your precious Javier Peña again, do you understand me?” 

You nod, sniveling through your tears, then he finally lets your arms go and steps away from you, “Get out of my fucking sight.” 

You don’t waste any time in doing just that, stopping just long enough to grab a thin cardigan and your car keys before your hurtling to your car with nowhere really to go. Your immediate thought is Javier, but it’s the middle of the day and he’ll be out helping Chucho on the ranch. You don’t think you can bare the heat of the shop, or the fact that you might have to interact with a customer, so that’s out too. There’s only one person left – Gabriela. There’s an internal battle you’re having with yourself, she’s so close to having her baby that you don’t want to intrude on her, but she’s the only person you can think of who will know what to do right now. 

You’re not really sure how you manage to make it to her house unscathed with the amount of tears that are dropping from your eyes and the way your hands are shaking, but you’re pulling up in front of her house in no time. 

“Good God alive, what on earth is the matter?!” She exclaims when she opens the door, pulling you into a hug, protruding belly crushed between you. 

“Oh Gabriela everything’s gone so wrong and I don’t know what to do.” You cry, sniffing into her shoulder, you pull away and briefly apologise for getting her shirt wet, to which she gives you a look that says ‘don’t be so fucking stupid’ before she’s ushering you inside. 

She waddles in front of you, clearly uncomfortable, and sternly tells you to sit at the breakfast bar whilst she boils some water to make tea. In no time at all there’s a steaming mug placed in front of you, and she’s sat herself down on the chair next to you with her own mug. 

“So, where do we start?” She’s coaxing you, hand holding your own. 

“I’m fucking miserable Gabs,” You speak softly, “And I don’t know what to do.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” She scoffs, “What’s he done this time?” 

“He found the money,” You’re looking into the amber liquid of the green tea in front of you, “Lost his mind that I’d done it without him, got cross because it was Javi’s idea and then told me to get out and leave him alone.” 

“Did he hurt you?” She asks, “And I swear if you lie to me once more about this, I’m actually going to lose my mind.” 

You nod, it’s small, but she catches it, and you can hear the inhalation of breath, “But it was my fault, I slapped him first.” 

“Did you slap him first all the other times he’s clearly hurt you?” You shake your head this time, “Show me.” She’s asking. 

You slowly slip the cardigan off your arms. You look down and there are perfect red welts on your skin where Ethan’s fingers had been digging into your arm earlier. No doubt in time they’d bruise, “Jesus fucking Christ.” Is Gabriela’s response. 

“I’m sorry Gabs, I didn’t wanna burden you with this I promise, but I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“You think this is a burden to me?” She’s imploring, catching your eyeline when you try to look away, “Cielito, this is nothing like a burden, it’s a bloody relief, I’ve been wanting you to tell me this for years.”

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew, dumbass, all those times you cancelled on me last minute and disappeared for days? You had to be hiding something, and the longer you’ve been with him the longer I’ve known he’s a horrible man – doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.” 

“What do I do, Gabs?” 

“Only you can answer that question, but that,” She points to your arms, “That’s assault, so you can go to the police, and then there’s always divorce.” 

“I don’t want to be with him anymore, but I can’t do this on my own Gabriela, I’m so fucking scared, he’s got everything, he’s going to take everything, I won’t have my shop anymore, I’ll be homeless, where do I even start?” 

Gabriela bites at her lip whilst she thinks, “You won’t have to do this alone, I promise you,” She’s got your hand clutched in hers again, “Can you give me a few weeks?” She’s asking, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but let me get this gremlin out of me first, and then I promise we’ll get you out, okay?” 

You nod in agreement because it’s more than you thought you’d get. The idea of freedom could surely see you through the next couple of weeks, “If it gets too bad then you let me know and we’ll sort something out, I promise, okay?” 

She’s hugging you then, the kind of bone crushing hug that only she would be capable of, and you can feel yourself crying again. What on earth had you done to deserve her? 

“I’ll get out of your hair soon, but can I borrow your phone really quickly?” You ask. 

“Of course, I need to use the bathroom again anyway, so I’ll give you some space.” 

Once she’s out of earshot, you’re dialing the number that you’d had memorized since high school, even with his years of absence. After a few rings someone picks up on the other end. 

“Hi, Chucho, it’s me.” 

“Ahhh Mija, how are you today?” 

“I’m well thank you, how about you?” 

“Not too bad thank you, just come inside to beat the midday heat for a while.” 

“Ah yes,” You smile, you’ve always loved the sound of Chucho’s voice, calm and stoic, reminding you of your own father, which is probably why you like it so much, “I hope you’ve got plenty of ice-cold lemonade,” You bite at the side of your thumbnail, “Is Javi there?” You ask, hoping it doesn’t sound like you’re trying to get rid of him too soon. 

“He is, let me just pass you over.” 

There’s the sound of shuffling on the other end of the phone and you can hear Chucho telling Javi it’s you on the other end, then there’s silence before he’s speaking. 

“Hola querida,” God his voice is like butter, “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” You reply quietly, “I just wanted to hear your voice, I hope you don’t mind me calling in the middle of the day.” 

“I wouldn’t mind you calling in the middle of the night, querida, don’t worry,” You can hear him drinking someone on the other end of the phone, “You sure you’re okay?” He asks again. 

“I was wondering if I could see you tonight?” You ask meekly, not wanting to make yourself a burden to another person today. 

“You can,” He’s replying, “Where?” 

“Can I come to you?” 

You can hear him shuffling a little on the other end of the phone, you can hear the shifting of paper, he must be looking at the calendar that’s hanging near the phone – his mother had insisted on it when she was still alive, and Chucho makes sure there’s a new one there every January 1st. 

“Yes,” He replies softly, “Pops has a poker game in town tonight according to the calendar, he should be gone by seven, is that okay?” 

“Yeah, of course, I’m happy with whatever is best for you, I’ll see you then.” 

“Alright, querida, take care and I’ll see you later.” 

“See you later, Javi.” You whisper softly before you’re hanging up the phone. 

You put the phone back on the receiver and rub your hands over your face, trying to ignore the pooling of nerves in your tummy. If Gabriela could sense all these years that something was off, then there’s no doubt that Javi will know as well. He’s the most perceptive man you’ve ever met. The dull ache of Ethan’s fingerprints on your arms were ever-present now, there was no way you’d be able to hide them from him. 

“You can stay here for a while if you want,” Gabriela’s voice calls from the living room, “I would only be folding baby clothes on my own.” 

You spend the rest of the afternoon helping Gabriela like she suggested, folding baby clothes, setting out diapers and toiletries in the bathroom and eating her famous enchiladas for dinner. Diego comes home sometime after five, giving you a hug, before he’s pulling out two beers which you enjoy with your friends in their back garden. The sun is setting and it’s nearing six in the evening when you bid them both farewell. 

“Please let me know if you need us, okay?” Gabriela whispers into your hair as she hugs you goodbye, “There’s isn’t a thing in this world that would stop us from helping you.” 

You bite back tears before you nod your head, giving Diego a similar hug, before you’re hopping in your car and driving out of town towards the Peña ranch. 

It doesn’t take as long as you’d anticipated but when you drive up you can see there’s only one truck parked outside which means Chucho must have already left for the evening. Javier is stood on the porch before you’ve stepped down from the truck. You make sure the cardigan you’d worn was buttoned up before you head over to him. 

“Evening, querida.” He speaks softly, dipping his head to kiss you on the cheek. 

Before he can fully pull away, you’ve got a hand on the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours. His hands weave around your waist and you wrap your other arm around his neck to press your body more firmly to his own before you’re pulling away from him, breathless. 

“Evening to you too.” You smile, and it’s genuine. This man has done nothing but make you happy since he came back. 

“You want a drink?” He asks, giving your waist a squeeze, “I bought that wine you used to like drinking, although thinking about it now we were young so your tastebuds have probably matured.” 

You giggle and follow him inside, “They definitely haven’t, is it the white one that we used to drink out of the bottle against the tree?” 

He nods as he leads you to the kitchen, dipping into the fridge to pull it out. It is indeed the exact same brand of wine you’d get drunk on together when he was still around, “You want a glass, or shall we drink it like old times?” 

“Old times,” You reply with a smile as he undoes the screw top, “Can we sit outside?” 

He’s taking the first swig from the wine, pulling the same face he used to all those years ago, as he motions for you to head out to the back porch. You always loved this ranch at dusk. The way the sun set and bathed everything in gentle orange light, the fact there was no noise from the town to distract you, the sound of the crickets chirping. It was peaceful. 

Javi settles onto the bench, and you sit across from him, he leans his arm across the back of the bench and moves his head to tell you he wants you closer, so you shift your body to lean against his chest, head placed on his shoulder. You hope he doesn’t catch the discomfort when you lean too hard onto your arm and shift slightly, but if he does, he’s not mentioned it, instead, he’s passing you the wine which you take a drink from. 

“You sounded upset on the phone, querida, are you sure you’re okay?” 

You take another drink before you pass it back to him, “Ethan came home last night,” You’re speaking as you look into the distance, “Guess I just realized how much I enjoy it when he’s away.” 

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, bringing his hand to your arm to squeeze him into his side, it’s stings as he grips to the sore skin from earlier, but you think you manage to play it off, “What can I do to help?” 

He takes a long drink of the wine and then hands it back to you, watching intently as you do the same before you place the half-empty bottle on the floor, “Just kiss me Javi,” You speak, “Make me forget about it for a while.”  

“You want me to just kiss you, querida?” He asks, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “Or do you want more?” 

You shift to look him in the eye, “I want it all Javi,” You lean up to press a chaste kiss to his lips pulling away before he can take more, “I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?” 

He untangles himself from you and stands up before he stretches out his hand for you take, he must see the confusion on your face because he’s talking again, “If you’ve been waiting then I’m not going to fuck you on the porch, querida, come on.” 

You slip your hand into his and then he’s dragging you through the house and up the stairs. He opens the door to his room, which you don’t really take in, he’s motioning his hand for you to sit on the bed, which you do. 

He walks over to you and pushes your chin up with one of his fingers. He’s looming over you and if this was anyone else it would make you feel uncomfortable, but he’s looking at you like you were about to give him the world, before he’s leaning down and pressing his lips softly to your own. In the back of your mind you can feel him unbuttoning the front of your cardigan, it’s a relief because it’s so fucking warm in here, he’s pulling back from your mouth to push it off and then he stops. He’s not pulled it all the way off, the material bunching in the crook of your elbow because he’s seen. He’s seen the marks on your arms. Perfect red indentations of fingertips. 

He's kneeling in front of you now, between your thighs, as he takes one arm in his hand, “Did he do this to you?”  

“Javi please…” You beg him. 

“Did he do this to you?” He asks again, slower and with a register that tells you he isn’t messing around, you nod at him, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” 

He’s standing like he’s going to get in his car and do it. You grab at his wrist, “Javi please, don’t,” You pull him back to you, “It was my fault.” You say softly, just like you had to Gabriela. 

“This?!” He’s back on his knees again, clutching at your arm, “This is never your fault, do you understand me?” He’s looking into your eyes again, then he softens, “It doesn’t matter what you did, you don’t deserve this.” 

“Please, will you just come back to me,” You plead, taking his face in your hands, “I need to forget him, just for tonight.” 

In the back of his mind he knows it’s not right, it’s just a distraction, and all he really wants is to know what’s going on, but the way your eyes are pleading with him, he can’t say no, “Only if you promise to talk to me after?” 

“I promise.” You reply almost immediately, and then he’s crowding you, he’s settling between your thighs but this time his lips are on yours and it’s overwhelming. 

You widen your legs as your mouth opens to him, tongues mixing together. You can taste the cheap wine and the cigarettes he swears he’s trying to give up on. He can taste a sweetness he’s never felt before when he’s kissed a woman. It fast and it’s messy, and you don’t understand why you’re moaning into his mouth when he’s not really touched you. Without breaking the kiss, he’s moving, you’re pushed back onto the bed and he’s settled between your thighs, and then he’s pulling his mouth from yours to trail hot, wet kisses over your throat. 

God, he wants to sink his teeth into your skin. Wants to mark you so that when you go home, he knows, knows that there’s someone out there who’s going to cherish you until his dying breath, going to protect you from men like him. He knows better, knows that you’ll be going home alone and any mark on your body would mean more marks from him, and Javi doesn’t think he can bare the fact that it’ll be his fault, so he sticks to kisses. He can feel your hands on his shoulders, sinking in through the material of his shirt and he wants more. 

He's pushing himself back from you, taking a moment to take his shirt off before his attention is back at you. You’re spread out on his bed, hair splayed out underneath you and the look in your eyes almost makes him cry. It’s admiration, that he’s sure of, but there’s something else in your eyes too, maybe it’s lust, maybe it’s happiness, he doesn’t know, but he isn’t sure a woman has ever looked at him like that. 

“God you’re beautiful, Javi.” You whisper as he leans back down to you. 

The feeling of your cool hands on his hot skin electrifies him, and he can feel his hands working your tank top up to expose the skin of your tummy. You lift yourself up a little so he can take it all the way off before he continues the trail of his lips over your collarbone and down between the dip in your breasts. He’s gently moving the straps of your bra down and takes the opportunity to undo the clasp at the back when you arch up into him. It’s discarded to the floor without a second thought and then his mouth is on you again. 

He uses the flat of his tongue to run hot stripes over your peaked nipple, whilst his fingers take the other peaked bud and starts rolling it between them. A whine drops from your lips, and you can feel him smiling into your skin and you arch up into him. He’s taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking and then using the tip of his tongue to run circle around it and all your head can think is how much you want his mouth doing just this further down your body. 

“You tell me what you like, querida,” He mumbles into your skin, “Wanna make you feel good.” 

“Your mouth,” You breathe out, head thrown back as he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth, “I need… fuck… I need it lower, Javi.” 

He’s lifted his lips from your tits and you’re moving your head to meet his eyes and he genuinely looks hungry. Like a man starved, with a smirk splayed across his lips, “You want me to eat your pussy, hmm?” 

He’s pushed himself back on his knees and for a split second before he’s pulling at your shorts to take them off, you can see he’s half-hard under his own denim. You’ve barely touched him, and this is how he is? It’s got pride swelling in your chest. 

He makes quick work of your shorts, throwing them to the ground along with your underwear. He takes a second to look at you, spread out and bare for him, and he thinks that if he died right now, he would die a happy man having seen you like this. He takes his thumb and runs it gently along the seam of your pussy, watching as your eyes close and you let out a breath. 

Javi stands briefly before he’s dropping to his knees on his floor. His hands are on either side of your hips, dragging you forward. He pulls you with such force that you bump your thigh into his face, but he’s not complaining. You expect him to tease you, but it turns out that he’s been waiting just as long as you have for this. He wastes no time in using the entire flat of his tongue to lick a hot, wet stripe from the bottom of your pussy to the top, which has an obscene moan dropping from your lips. He could listen to you make those noises for him all fucking day. 

One of his hands moves from your hips, he uses it to spread your pussy before he makes the same motion with his tongue as before but focusing its entirety on your clit. You think you might see stars. Once he’d started, he doesn’t stop. Spurred on by the obscenity dropping from your lips like, fuckjavi that’s so fucking good, and please don’t stop, he’s eating your pussy like it’s his death row meal. He’s lapping at the slick that gathers at your entrance, he’s suckling on your clit, or flicking it with the tip of his tongue, but it’s when he pushes two of his thick fingers inside you that you’re truly coming undone. 

You’re bucking your hips up into his mouth, grinding down on his fingers and then it’s all coming undone with that bright burst of pleasure you hadn’t felt in years. You can feel your pussy clenching around his fingers, and you can hear him suckling your clit through the aftershocks as your legs shake around his head. He slips his fingers out of you and finishes with one chaste kiss to your clit before he’s pulling at your arm to sit you up. 

You’re jelly until he kisses you. You can taste yourself on his mouth, sweet and sour with the mix of his cigarettes and it’s intoxicating. You can feel his slick fingers on your thigh as he uses it as a crutch to push himself off the floor. When he stands, his groin is right in your eyeline and now he’s not half-hard. Fuck, he’s bulging. You watch as his hands undo his belt and tear it through the loops of his jeans before he’s unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans right in front of your face. He steps back a little to let the remainder of his clothes pool on the floor, but then he’s stepping out of them and back towards you and you can’t help but reach out and take his cock in your hand. 

You look up at him, head thrown back with his eyes closed in pleasure. Your name drops from his lips as you continue working him with your hand, you’re just about to take him into your mouth when he speaks, “How do you want me?” 

It’s a crime that he’s making you choose because fuck, you want him in every way. You want him to fold you in half and pound into you, you want him to take you from behind whilst he uses his fingers on your clit, you want him to wake you up in the morning with kisses to your neck whilst he buries himself inside you from the side. 

“Can I ride you?” You ask quietly. 

“Querida, there’s a gun downstairs,” He speaks, settling himself down on his bed on his back, before he’s guiding you to straddle his hips, “If I ever say no to that, I want you to use it on me, okay?” 

You’re laughing, because it’s dramatic, but it cuts the tension with a knife. You’re both still laughing to each other when you’re shifting your hips and using your hand to line him up with your tight heat. He’s big, there’s no beating around the bush here, and as you sink down slowly onto him, his hands on your hips to guide you, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so full. 

You’re throwing your head back and breathing out his name as he bottoms out, hearing a similar moan from him as you start grinding your hips. He’s using his hands on your hips to guide you and the friction inside of you in addictive. You think if you could spend the rest of your days like this then you would give up everything to do so. 

“Fuck, hermosa, you look fucking incredible like this.” Javi purrs from underneath you, it makes your heart swell because no-one ever said things like this to you before. 

You continue to grind against him until he’s holding your hips still and bringing his knees up, settling them against your backside. He lifts you up a little off his cock, with a strength you’d never witnessed before, and then he’s fucking up into you, cock punching as deep into you as you think you can take it, his balls slapping against your ass. 

“Ohmygod, fuck Javi,” You’re squealing, putting your hands on top of his knees to keep you steady, “I think you’re… oh god… I think you’re gonna make me cum again.” 

You look down and he’s looking up at you, grinning like a devil, because he’s got you so close to the edge, cock hitting a spot within you that feels like heaven and hell mixed into one, “Go on, querida, come for me.” 

His husky voice is what does it. You’re clenching down on him as you call out his name. His hands on your hips keeping you upright as dark spots cloud your vision, “God, what I wouldn’t give to hear that every second of the day.” He groans as he flips you onto your back in one smooth move. 

He’s still buried deep inside you, one hand brushing sweat-soaked hair from you face, the other gripping to your ass as he lifts your hips to meet him. He’s slowed but you can tell from the way his hips stutter into your own that he’s close. 

“Where do you want me?” He whispers into your ear. 

Everywhere, is what you want to say. Paint me, cover me, mark me as yours, is all you can think. What you say is, “Wherever you want.” 

You think you see his mouth open to answer you, but it’s too late. He’s pulling out of you, fisting his cock two, three times, and then he’s painting your skin with his spend. Thick ropes of cum cover your tummy as he's growling into your ear, collapsing next to you when he’s given you everything he’s got. 

When you lie there next to him, his cum drying on your abdomen, his mouth still kissing at the skin of your neck, you think you should feel guilty. Guilty that you broke your vows, guilty that you’ve let a man other than your husband touch you. Guilty that you did so without a second thought. Guilty that he didn't once cross your mind. There isn’t an ounce of guilt within you. You lean into his kisses and thank the Lord for bringing him back, for bringing him back to you, because you know this right here? This is happiness. 

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[solarpunkani]

this is a personal vent but its a somewhat anti-capitalist/anti-grind culture vent so its going here but like

I wish I could have one (1) hobby that just stays a hobby and remains a fun lil heehee hobby without one or both parents desperately trying to get me to monetize it.

Like I am JUST learning crochet. I have been crocheting for less than a MONTH. I have ONE finished project. And my mom is ALREADY sending me lil instagram reels like 'heehee this is how much I made from my ~crocheting business~ in the month of October' and sending me a bunch of eyes emojis and dollarsign eyes emojis like, first off my beloved mother that woman has been crocheting for YEARS maybe even DECADES and I just picked it up three tuesdays ago, but second of all I don't necessarily wanna just make a buncha shit and then sell it online!!! I wanna make stuff for me and maybe friends and family if they ask really nicely, but nooooo now mom wants me to Perfect the Craft so I can sell on etsy and instagram and whatever.

This would be a Mild Annoyance if this wasn't simply the first in a long string of 'what if you monetized this hobby.' Which, granted, sometimes I do it to myself, but I'm really trying to stop.

Oh you like gardening? What if you monetized it! Sell vegetables at the farmers market! Sell cut flowers at the farmers market! Start your own small business! What do you mean, you mostly do it for personal enjoyment and environmental reasons? Just grow a bigass plot of zinnias, forget about your other stuff, and sell sell sell!!!

Oh, you like creative writing? You like writing novels and short stories and fanfics?? Go be a copywriter! Go be an adjunct professor, because you're totally qualified! What? You don't wanna write manuals and advertisements? But you're such a good writer, go make money off of it!

Oh you wanna learn sewing?! Learn sewing!! Quickly!! Not for your own personal enjoyment of the craft, I'm gonna start a business selling bags and YOU"RE gonna help me!!! I'm not asking permission btw this is me telling you--

Don't even get me started on the absolute slog that has been trying to become an animator and selling art commissions because I like drawing and animating and how that's been going for me, or the fact that my mom seems to think Masters Degree in Animation = Qualified Graphic Designer, which is not the same thing.

It's just exhausting. I would like to be allowed to have one hobby that doesn't immediately read as dollar signs in my parents eyes, yknow?

anyways capitalism grind culture is a hell scape thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

#out of queue #ani rambles #im turning off reblogs because this is literally just a vent into the void tysm

[coyoteprince]

I am really, really going Through It right now, but... in the best way possible? Like, really good things? It's just a lot to juggle at once so I'm absolutely wore out from a massive growth spurt

I deserve to be joyous about this so:

-New house! All our own! We're even moving during October (date was pushed back due to philly market), very spiritually important time for me

-Getting married next Fall once things calm down, finally, after being engaged for a few years

-Came to terms with Widderwood being an important purpose in my life, an art that feeds my soul- even if the result remains small, all this work isn't a waste, because the process enriches my life and brings me joy. The many years of dedication I've had for it is a sign that it's the right choice for me to continue following, and am super looking forward to the years of doing the actual page layouts. I've been setting realistic expectations to maintain my happiness with production, am working it into my new schedule, and I get to ink the pages at my antique writing desk in the sunroom as I look out at our back garden once we move... waow

-Learning a ton of important things about myself- my fears, roots of problems and behaviors thanks to trauma and ego that I didn't notice. I'm being kinder to myself, less judgemental of others, and letting go of other's projections rather than continuing to internalize them. I know what I am, how to be empathetic and accept my missteps, but also what isn't worth my time and energy.

-Learning how to adjust my desire for perfection in myself to much more healthy & reasonable level, and being more willing to delegate

-Rebuilding my business internally from the ground up for success, seeking continuous education for business & science, and after years of struggling and testing, FINALLY figuring out a work-life method that works for my messed up desires-varience autism brain. Balance!

-Similarly, figuring out how to balance cooking for two autistic people who have greatly different cravings & stims

-Realizing what a hard working, loyal, and loving person I am with an unrivaled, firey dedication to change and self improvement. Capricorn to an eerie degree.

Overall I feel like I'm in the transitional period between continuing to be poisoned by the aftermath of prolonged abuse and illness, and finding peace while blossoming far beyond what happened to me. Something I've strived for, but wasn't sure I'd ever have. In a way, it's obtaining independence and finding out who I really am as a person, unclouded by other's words and fearful what-ifs.

20 something years of being locked away. About 8 more years of new experiences, perspectives, professional help, love, and grueling work to dismantle things in myself. I guess this is what real healing and responsibility looks like- at least in my case. I'll never stop growing, but I am at a pivotal point of change.

What I've experience is important to me because it set the projectile for my life. I want to be somewhat open because I want others to be aware of what autistic children often experience and how it affects them long term... but I also know I have more to me and don't have to be haunted anymore. Turning an unpleasant experience into a tool I can control is a lovely reward and I can now whole heartedly say: I love being alive.

[theproverbialpen]

Musings from a Hazbin Fan and Hotel Employee

Yeah, that's right—I'm posting to this blog for the first time in years because I got into Hazbin Hotel of all things. Not only did I get into this cursed fandom, I'm writing fan fiction for it. Fan fiction. I think the last time I wrote fanfiction was...2012? 2013? And I only ever told 3 people about that one. Now here I am posting on main. The brainrot truly is unquantifiable.

If you're one of the few people that survived the purge of those I know IRL, congratulations. Please don't judge me lol. Anyways, actual musings are below the cut!

So I’m writing a fun little fanfic on AO3 and after someone left a comment (if you’re reading this, still genuinely one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me about my craft), it occured to me—as a Hazbin Hotel enjoyer, I have a pretty unique perspective on the series as an IRL hospitality professional. So! Thought it would be some cute bonus content to talk a little bit more about my life at an actual hotel and how it’s impacted my experience with Vivziepop’s hit series. 

Please note: this is written purely for shits and giggles. I don’t actually have any issues with the setting of Vivzie’s narrative or how it plays into the stories she and her team want to tell. I fucking love this show, to a potentially unhealthy degree, and I haven’t had this much fun with a series since like…okay well my hyperfixations change like every few months, but still. Point is, this isn’t actually critique, or satire, or anything with negative or critical intentions. TLDR; this post is for funsies, get off my dick.

So Who TF Am I, Anyways?

A little background on myself, for context. I’ve been employed at my hotel for almost a year now, and it’s my first hospitality job. I work in the Sales and Events department and I’ve come to learn that Group Business is actually integral for keeping a hotel up and running. When your average person (read: me before this job) thinks about hotels and traveling, you’d think it’s all about the families, bloggers, and individual travelers when it comes to guests and revenue. But in actuality, most of a hotel’s revenue—at least in the market I work in—will come from contracted room blocks and events. 

That’s where folks in my department come in. We work with clients to negotiate contracts and secure occupants for our hotel year round. Simply put, if we don’t do our jobs well, then no one else gets hours. So as much as the anti-capitalist in me will sometimes hate being a cog in the machine, it is really fulfilling to be able to help clients meet their needs while also making sure my coworkers are able to put food on the table. 

Speaking of being a cog in the machine, because of my role in Sales, this means that whenever I travel or think about hotels, I’m always thinking about the revenue side of things. I also work more with the Events team, so operations are also on the forefront of my mind. Which leads me to my principal quandary for this little blog post:

How in the Hell does the Hazbin Operate?

I have a laundry list of questions. A laundry list that’s almost as big as the actual pile of dirty laundry that is currently plaguing my bedroom floor. I will summarize (which is a generous word given how fucking verbose I can be) below:

Issue #1: Revenue Generation

Okay listen, I know Charlie is the Princess of Hell. I know she probably has unlimited capital, whatever that looks like in the HelluVerse. And I know the Hazbin is literally there to help rehabilitate people so charging them to stay would be counterproductive.

But my dude…do you understand how much money would be needed to run an operation of this scale?

At the end of Season 1, the new Hazbin is huge. Like it easily looks as big, if not bigger, than the hotel I work at which has nearly 500 rooms. Do you know how much revenue our team has to generate to keep this place running? Do you know how many millions our target goal is set at for each quarter? How many hundreds of thousands my coworkers’ individual quotas are set to? And sunshine in a bottle over here doesn’t charge her residents anything????? 

How does she get all those decorations? How does she order food or inventory? We know Hell has an economy, like Angel literally says he needs to save money for drugs in his first appearance. Is she…does she even pay her staff???

It is utterly appalling that Charlie is able to operate a hotel of this scale, both because of how it doesn’t make sense from a business perspective and because there are IRL billionaires that could probably do the same thing and solve homelessness overnight. 

Speaking of scale:

Issue #2: The Hazbin’s Systems, Or Lack Thereof

Okay so, yes, there’s only like…one official resident of the hotel, maybe two if Cherri moves in and doesn’t become a staff member (RIP Pentious, you would have loved living with Cherri Bomb). With the staff the way it is, that’s a solid 5:1 ratio, which is beyond ideal. But—and I touch on this in the fic—I feel I must reiterate: the new Hazbin is fucking massive. And you know what that means? It’s going to be able to hold a lot of guests. Guests that will need staff to take care of them. Let’s review:

Charlie is the owner and mostly teaches classes. Vaggie is the co-owner and kind of acts as the Executive Assistant to Charlie’s General Manager. I guess Alastor is the Hotel Manager? I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea what he does, but generally speaking he’s supposed to be the jack of all trades and manage the rest of the staff. Niffty handles Housekeeping and I guess would be the director of that. Husk is the bartender but like canonically only really eats pub food so he definitely can’t be the Food & Beverage head. 

Let’s say we scrap the Sales and Revenue Departments because clearly they don’t need income, but we keep a Marketing position so that Charlie can get the word out about the hotel. That leaves us with the need for Engineering, Front Desk, Rooms, and F&B staff. And like, not just one person—that would fucking suck—but proper staff. And given their track record of organization and managing the hotel…let’s just say, I would not be applying to the Hazbin Hotel anytime soon. Honestly, it sounds like that job would qualify to be the new tenth circle of Hell. 

What Does the Hazbin Get Right About IRL Hospitality?

So yes, clearly the world of the Hazbin Hotel leans towards the more fanciful—it is a story about Hell after all. However, there have been some moments that have made me chuckle as a hotel employee, things that are relatable for us in the hospitality world. Allow me to highlight them for you below:

Everyone is Bat Shit Crazy

Hospitality professionals are weird. So weird. Before I started my job, I was terrified of the level of professionality I would need to have. When I first got hired, I was given a whole packet on dress code and appropriate conduct. As you can probably tell from my writing style, this was concerning: I can be professional when I need to be, but I cannot maintain that guise for extended periods of time. Call it my toxic trait.

I also already had this impression of poised and put-together hotel staff from my previous experiences with travel. All the Front Desk agents would be in these clean and wrinkle-free clothes with kind yet business-forward attitudes, office workers would be walking around in full suits, and occasionally you’d see the hotel management on the floor if you were looking. Let me tell you now—it is a facade. An act. An incredible stage production unfolding in real time where all the staff do their absolute damndest to make you feel like you are in an organized and professional institution. Not unlike a certain hit animated musical.

My direct supervisor, the literal Director of Catering and Events, once told me that being a liiiiiittle crazy was a prerequisite for working in our department during the hiring process for a new Sales Manager. She was wrong—the prerequisite is not “a little” crazy. The prerequisite is being bat shit insane. And it’s not just our department, oh noooOoooOo, it is every department. Downstairs in our little basement dungeon, we make out of pocket comments, scream at random intervals, and swear way more than we should (that one might be my fault…according to my partner I swear more at work than at home and apparently it’s rubbing off on my colleagues), but that behavior is in no way restricted to just the Sales Team. 

I process the checks that are sent to our property and our Director of Rooms makes me say “can I get a WITNESSSS” before she signs off on the drop log (Charlie-core). If I don’t say it high pitched enough or with enough vigor, she makes me do it again. I once watched a guy in Engineering climb a tall step ladder balanced with two legs on a platform and a third leg balanced on a wooden plank his coworker was holding steady. The fourth leg was over the open air. Let me reiterate: the open. Fucking. Air. Tell me you can’t see Angel Dust and Cherri doing that shit.

Speaking of Engineering, you wanna know what dumbass thing happened just this morning? The Regional Director of the department—regional meaning he manages teams all across our area, like top level type shit—told us about this cursed ass Instagram trend he found where allegedly, putting ketchup on a Kit Kat tasted like fudge. So right there and then, him, myself, and two other coworkers decided ‘why the fuck not?’:

I would never seek it out willingly again, but I honestly didn’t hate it. 

The point of all of this is to say—the antics the Hazbin crew get up to? Totally realistic. I could see my coworker Robert throwing me into an active battlefield against my will. We have deadass done the role playing thing Angel and Pentious did during our trainings, and it was just as unhinged. Every day some shit happens at this hotel and I’m just like, “Yup. That could happen in Hazbin.”

“Call Now! Or Don’t! I Don’t Care! We Still Don’t Have a Working Phone!”

I would like to preface this section by saying: if you happen to be a Front Desk associate, I’m sorry. This is not directed at you, this is directed at your managers and their communication skills that may or may not exist. If you are somehow a manager reading this, uh—first of all, cringe. Second of all, I hope these next few paragraphs don’t apply to you. If they do and you’re offended: that’s a certified you-problem, babes. 

There are three certainties in this life: death, taxes, and miscommunication from your fucking managers. Tell me why in this past week alone I have been in 5 different email threads regarding fuck-ups and complaints from guests about things that we had clearly communicated. Tell me why in these email threads, people were attempting to throw me under the bus or shift the blame to my team. Tell me why I have gone to every single individual office in my department complaining about this. Tell me why this isn’t the first time this has happened.

Another hotel tidbit: across the board, Q1 (Jan-Mar) is supposed to be slow, for all of hospitality. It’s the time to get the metaphorical phone lines working, ya know? Our Q1 was stupidly busy, so I get it, people were slammed and short staffed. But like… we had time. Time to iron out our communication, time to create systems and processes that would ensure we’d be all set when things got busier. Yet here I am at the start of Q2 with an entire fist shoved up my ass being puppeted around to fix other people’s mistakes. 

It’s times like these when I go back to rewatch Hazbin for the like 26th time and I watch Charlie and Alastor run the hotel and I’m just like “whyyYyYyYyYyYy”. Like I KNOW Vaggie has had days where she’s like, “what…what am I supposed to be doing right now? Like what is my job, what… What?” 

It’s not just Front Desk either. It’s every department, even my own bosses. Like the call is coming from inside the house, sweetie, why did you tell this Sales Manager that I was taking care of all her commissions but you didn’t tell me this. Why am I blocking a room for an Orientation the following Monday at fucking 5:45 PM on a Friday. Why am I JUST finding out about a VIP guest when I have been asking you if you had any notes for me for the whole week.

I touch on it in my fic as well but like…pretty sure Charlie just, decides to host her classes day of. And that drives me insane. Like I…there are processes. Things that need to be done so that everyone is on the same page. You don’t just wing this shit, that’s how you end up with Susan calling your Director to tell her that you’re a useless waste of space not even deserving of the air in your lungs because you didn’t give her her fucking breakfast voucher. 

As a character, I love Alastor. If I were ever in the same room as him, I’d probably hate him. But if there’s anything relatable about that Geneva Convention Violation on Legs it’s his absolutely done attitude in Episode 1’s opening commercial.

Charlie Loves Helping People, and So Do We!

Alright, I’ve complained for enough paragraphs, let’s be positive for a second. The thing that is by far the most true to life in Hazbin Hotel is how much joy Charlie gets from taking care of her guests. Like…that’s our bread and butter in the hospitality world. Well, maybe just the butter; we need that bread in the form of cold hard cash (or direct deposits, whatever works best). But as much as I will bitch and moan about the difficulties of working in a hotel, there’s nothing quite as fulfilling as a guest telling you that you made their entire trip better. The butterflies I get reading reviews where my coworkers are mentioned by name and a guest writes about how we completely turned around their bad day are an absolute delight. It just means the world knowing that you can have that kind of impact on someone, even if it’s just in the little things.

In Episode 2, when Charlie and the crew are welcoming Sir Pentious and she just starts vibrating with excitement is exactly how I feel when I get to meet a client that we’ve been working with for months and finally welcome them to our property. When they sing “It Starts With Sorry” and just get to have a moment of empathy and compassion together, it reminds me of the clients and the phone calls I take where I get to ask them about their goals and help them feel like they’re supported and heard. In the grand scheme of things, is a nice phone call or interaction with some hotel employee going to change your life? Probably not. But for those few moments when their burdens seem lighter is why I love my job.

This goes for guests, and for my fellow coworkers. I’ve been very blessed to start my hospitality career in an unusually supportive work culture. Yeah, we can be some right petty bitches sometimes, but overall everyone is so encouraging and so quick to help lighten each other’s loads. Like in Episode 5 (best episode btw, for obvious reasons) when all the Hazbin Crew are working together to prepare the hotel for Lucifer’s arrival, that shit made me so giddy cause like- that’s us! Look at us go! We workin together so hard, we’re so cute! Like when Niffty and Pentious are baking and she looks up at him all excited n’ shit—that’s literally been me working with our Director of Restaurants on new food menus or promotional material. 

There’s something about being in an occupation where your whole purpose is to take care of people that really brings out the selflessness in you, and I think that’s what makes the hotel such a great setting for Charlie’s mission of redemption. I didn’t realize that until writing this paragraph tbh, but yeah, it just kinda…works. When your job is to make sure other people have a good time and feel supported and you’re surrounded by people that make you feel the same way, it’s a lot easier to want to choose to do good, to do right by the people around you. So as much as I have some silly little nitpicks…yeah, I can admit—I love that this show is about the Hazbin Hotel specifically.

Anyways, if you made it this far, thanks for reading! Next update for Life is In Redemption will be out in the days to come, just thought this would be a fun addition while I work on some of the content with my friends. This upcoming chapter is going to have a co-author, so get hyyyyyped :)

#hazbin hotel #blog post #text #charlie morningstar #alastor #vaggie #angel dust #cherri bomb #sir pentious #hazbin hotel husk #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #personal post #life is in redemption #bonus content

[young-royals-confessions]

Responses to my job ask!

Thanks to all who wrote in, and thank you to the anon who suggested doing this—I found it so interesting to read the responses!

Occupations of Young Royals Confessions readers:

I'm an esthetician

I'm a videogame localization tester 😊

I am a teacher at a private school, and the history class I teach focuses primarily on revolutions and decolonization movements around the world. Working at a private school (but not being the same social class as most of my students) gives me a lot insights into the frightening soft power world of Hillerska.

I work in higher ed communications.

I used to be a civil servant, but got fed up with politics (and my bosses) and quitted. Now I currently don't work anywhere - keep my household, take care of my family and of myself.

I'm disabled. Was a teacher before.

I‘m a Marketing Manager :)

I am a teacher, I teach English at a secondary school in Europe.

I’m a graphic designer

Social worker :)

I have an engineer degree but now I work in the social field as a project manager.

Marketing manager by day, fic writer by night 🦸🏼‍♀️

I'm a train planner (shout out I've you've never heard of it before) and a freelance interpreter.

I’m an accounts administrator 📊

I'm an analytical chemist

Stay at home parent! 👶🏻

I work in a public university, writing grant applications and funding proposals, to persuade philanthropic organisations and individuals to fund our research and scholarships.

Casual retail worker, also meant to be a student but not currently at school lol

I’m a small business owner, selling handmade crafts and illustrations ☺️

I’m working as a Laboratory manager in a Biotech Company but I’m a pro in doing all things yr instead

I’m currently a full time student at uni but in my free time I help kids/teens with their homework

I’m a preschool teacher, work with kids aged 1-3. Sadly can’t read fanfic under the desk.

I work in a municipality where I help politicians and officials (no clue if that's the correct translation) with everything they need to keep the town and people happy. It's really interesting to sit behind the scenes and watch big decisions being made.

I'm a History of Latin America professor in an university and I'm also a second time PhD student. I also give surprise tests to my students to deal with my Young Royals feelings lmao

#jobs of yrc #yr fandom

[fcble]

Inwang jesaekdo, Jeong Seon (1751)

OUTTAKES — A collection of bits and pieces of ideas I had and posts I was going to make that never made it to completion

TRIVIA

I wanted to do posts of miscellaneous trivia and headcanons around certain themes. The only one of these I completed was one on their names. I forced the explanations of Mingeun and Andrew(‘s stage) names into “Double A-Side,” but I do have the rest of them HERE.  

I also have some other trivia facts that I think more people should know.

Mingeun keeps a diary in French. He was very strongly encouraged to start one when he was a trainee, and he’s stuck with it ever since. Except he doesn’t want anyone else reading it, which is why he writes in French. It’s also made him a lot better at the language.

The worst-kept Fable secret is that Jaeseop has been in a relationship with his girlfriend since 2016. The best-kept Fable secret is that Jaeseop moved out at the end of 2022 to live with said girlfriend. I am hoping this will have bearing on the story soon other than mentions that Jaeseop doesn’t live with them anymore.

Solidifying the degrees for once because I feel like I’ve said Jaeseop has three different degrees. He does not. His degree is in marketing. Kiyoung’s is in political science, and Andrew’s is in music. Haksu dropped out halfway through but he was studying business administration. His heart was not in it at all.

On the topic of education, Intak went to a technical high school and is a decently qualified fake civil engineer. Eunsu attended SOPA in the Department of Practical Music. Mingeun is the only member without a high school diploma.

The lore-relevant reason for the education is that Taein believes in back-up plans. It’s part of the reason he doesn’t like Mingeun very much. On a tangential note, Neon Nights was the backup if Fable’s debut fell through.

FANSERVICE MOMENTS THAT CAUSE SECOND-HAND EMBARRASSMENT / 2024 WHITE DAY SPECIAL

Exactly what it sounds like. Also the failed post that inspired this one. It was so cringe I couldn’t go through with it. I wanted to write this like a script. Thinking of the dialogue did me in completely. HERE are the only two scenes I finished.

Other things I had planned on were Haksu’s constant enabling of the boyfriend stans (signing fake marriage certificates at in-person fansigns, barking/meowing/whatever in fan calls), Jaeseop chivalry moment (didn’t think farther than that), and an extra terrible group Imagine Your Korea ad.

OOPS ALL HAKSU CONFESSIONS

This is the title of “Great Things” in my docs. When I made the doc, I was going to write it as moments in a confessional booth. The problem with that is that he’s rationalizing all his actions in his head and he would not have confessed at the level of honesty I needed for the piece. So the other half of the piece was going to be entries in Mingeun’s diary because he’s the only one that works like that, and it would have been two perspectives on the same events. There were two problems with that. One, I wanted to die writing first person. Two, he didn’t know the extent of Haksu’s actions. 

The last scene of this piece is also a couple of days before the Haksu segment of “Form is Emptiness.” One of the first iterations of this was actually from Andrew’s perspective. It was part of a different Haksu piece which was perspectives on Haksu.

OTHER DOC TITLES (PUBLISHED)

the eunsu departure novella (but mingeun is also everywhere???) — “Form is Emptiness.” Mingeun is everywhere. I can’t explain it. I guess in this context it makes sense because they’re besties.

mingeun wooseok era (probably not he’s not even flopping) — The Shooting Stars drafts doc. You can find it HERE.

andrew han moment — The write-up of In Full Bloom, the YouTube documentary accompanying their second full album. This helped me realize he’s a main character more than I would like to admit.

andrew mingeun parallels (emotionally constipated man discovers talking about your feelings helps) — The working title of “Not Enough.” In hindsight this is funny because they don’t even work through anything here. They were supposed to. Also I spelled impostor correctly once and incorrectly once in the same sentence 👍.

byeonghwi time!!! (how he became a trainee) — “First Love.” Exactly what it sounds like. 

mingeun hwajung bi4bi — “Live Wire.” They don’t talk about it in the piece but they are both bisexual. 

intak anniversary piece that is actually andrew's identity crisis in disguise — “Double A-Side” was originally going to be from Intak’s perspective because he thinks about a lot of things but doesn’t say a lot of things. I realized pretty early on that this had to be an Andrew piece and so that changed.

OTHER DOC TITLES (UNPUBLISHED)

walk the line — The perspectives on Haksu piece. This was also going to do the same event from multiple perspectives thing. I got as far as three paragraphs into Mingeun’s 2019 Mass experience, which is canon and did happen.

jaeseop at the shareholders meeting! what will happen to him? — Jaeseop attending his first meeting as a Zenith Entertainment stakeholder <3. Since the Fable concept scandal happened, I have to mess with the timeline. This is a thousand words long but I’m going to revisit parts of it in another piece I think so I’m not posting any of those words.

fable! but i don't know where i'm going — A rewrite of one of the very early Fable pieces where Taein told Mingeun to lie about his identity but I never finished it. Actually kind of important now that I think about it. It’s how he ended up the way he was in “Not Enough.” He should know that it’s Taein’s fault. But he was young and angry and desperate and just moved across the world and it was a lot easier for him to take his anger out on Andrew rather than his boss. This was also going to be accompanied by the interlude in which Jaeseop fights for Mingeun’s life, which is what changes Taein’s mind. This is very much missing from just Mingeun’s perspective. Maybe I’ll finish this one. It’s got some great bits like

and also

:(.

BONUS:

What was the main conflict for every Fable member in November 2021?

#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ misc. ] #kpop oc #fictional idol community #idolverse #idol oc #kpop addition

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hey I’m not sure if this is the right place to ask this but I would appreciate any advice you could give me… I’m about to go to college and I’m good at everything but I have a deep interest in writing. I would like to be a professional writer sometime in the future but I’m not sure if I should do it on my own or pursue English as a subject in college. I’m scared that if I chose it, I’ll lose interest in it?I’m interested in psychology so I was planning to take that as a major? I don’t know? Help

College and Becoming a Writer

Defining "Professional Writer" - We have to start by defining what you mean by "professional writer" because there are many, many careers in many different fields that qualify as a professional writer. Journalists, columnists, technical writers, editors, copywriters, speech writers, marketing communications specialists... these are just some of the many jobs that professional writers do. And if you want to do any of these jobs, you will definitely want to pursue a writing-related degree like English or communications.

However, if by "professional writer" you mean someone who writes novels or short stories, here's the thing: you don't need a writing-related degree to do that. In fact, most fiction authors don't have writing-related degrees, and some very successful ones don't have degrees at all.

And you also obviously need a degree if you want to be in a lot of other fields, like psychology for example.

Also... and this is a big one: the vast majority of authors do are not ever able to fully support themselves on the income from their books. And yes, that includes traditionally published authors.

So... if you want to be a published author one day, but you're also interested in another field like psychology, business, or engineering, it's a really great idea to pursue that degree and get yourself settled in a career in that field. Meanwhile, start writing in your spare time and start building up a backlog of unpublished but finished fiction. You can take creative writing classes and writing workshops, too, often for free. Then, eventually, when you feel you've built up your craft enough, you can write something and try to get it published, or look into self-publishing which is a growing industry for authors.

I hope that helps! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

Learn more about WQA

Visit my Master List of Top Posts

Go to ko-fi.com/wqa to buy me coffee or see my commissions

#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

[cordeliahrose]

Spring Equinox

The spring equinox takes place between March 19 and March 22. That may be the official date, but when does spring really start? When do you begin to notice that it's spring?

As we come into spring we start to notice things. Leaves growing back on the trees, birds coming back again, bugs starting to come out, maybe even flowers sprouting. But the weather is still quite cold, and we may think, Is it spring already?

I began to notice the incoming spring at the beginning of March. Birds were out rustling in the trees, butterflies, wasps, and bees came out, and my young blackberry bush began to sprout leaves. The weather also got about 10 degrees warmer. For me, this was the start of spring. But I still choose the celebrate the equinox on the official date. Why? Because I always have, and because it gives me to prepare.

And that's what the spring equinox is all about. Preparing to take action towards the goals you set during the winter. It's a time of sowing seeds, literally and metaphorically.

How Can You Celebrate The Spring Equinox?

Sow your seeds

Literally: plant the fruits, veggies, herbs, flowers, or whatever else it is you plan to grow this season. Get your hands in the dirt and connect with the earth and the new spring time.

Metaphorically: Set the intentions you have for this coming season. Quarterly goals are great for all areas of life. What goals do you want to accomplish in the next 3 months? Make a plan for what you're going to do to accomplish them. You might chose to keep your goals aligned with the spring season. In this case, here are some ideas:

~ New ideas and projects. That new art project you see in your mind, or that new business idea you've been dreaming up. Maybe someone asked you to collaborate on an idea, now is a time to say yes.

~ Growth. Personal, business, family, any goal you have that involves something growing and/or improving.

~ Gardening. Maybe you want to start a small garden, or add a new plant to an existing one.

~ Community. Litter clean up projects, community gardening projects, fundraisers for causes around your area. Spring is a good time to bring the community together.

Have a picnic or cookout with family and/or friends

Celebrate the spring time with your family and/or friends. Cook or bake some foods that are in season at this time and enjoy the weather together. You can find tons of lists with a quick search about what foods are in season. You can also visit a local farmers market if possible!

Spring cleaning

This is definitely one you hear all the time, but it's a good one! What better way to bring in the new season than getting rid of the dust and clutter from the previous? Here are some ideas:

~Physically clean your area. Your house, your yard, or even just your bedroom. Make a project of it if you'd rather. Pick a different area to clean each day, or whatever time block works best for you. Write them down on a checklist with the day you plan them, and check them off when you've done them. This will actually help you stay motivated for it too, every time you check one off the list.

~ Cleanse your area. Whether it be with smoke, sound, crystals, words, or whatever other method you choose to use.

~ Switch up or tidy up your altar if you have one.

~ Clean out your inbox. Emails, text messages, social media notifications, clean out everything you don't need. Unfollow those people who mess up your feed, block those negative messages, unsubscribe from unwanted emails.

Spend some time outside. Go on a hike, watch the sunrise or sunset, visit a local park. Stargaze after dark, look for constellations and planets. There's a couple of good apps that help with this, Skyview and Stellarium. I personally use Stellarium.

Do some magic. Spring is a great time to do manifestation, workings around friendship, love, and community, workings to bring in abundance and wealth, workings for health, and workings to aid in personal growth. I'll be posting one of my favorite spring time workings soon!

Give spring time offerings to the deities and spirits you work with. Flowers, leaves, acorns, honey, fresh fruits, baked goods, milk, spring inspired art.

These are just a few ideas that come from my view of spring. I encourage everyone to look at how they view the spring time and figure out what works for them!

#springtime #spring equinox #wheel of the year #witchblr #paganblr #witch tips #witches of tumblr #witchcraft #paganism #pagans of tumblr

[cipheramnesia]

I guess the complicated bollocks of it all is like, okay, if someone is a queer creator (or indeed any disenfranchised group) who wants to reach a wide audience and also afford to live, it means working for a huge company which 100% hates them and all the work they do.

And that's okay, because working for most companies is pretty much that experience. The larger the company, the more certain you can be it hates you, the employee, whether it's out in the open or behind layers of protective HR and PR. Can't blame a queer for working and existing in the world we all live in, while trying to use that to angle a little more good stuff towards the rest of us, right? Right. Shouldn't be, is, we try and do better, capitalism sucks, etc etc. We know.

Not only that but it's kind of a double bind can't win situation. Give money to the big faceless monopoly that hates all queers, minorities, poor people, etc and show them shows made for queers, minorities, poor people etc are profitable and get more widely distributed media of that type OR don't give any money to said monopolies and never see any mass distribution of media et al because it's not profitable. I'm writing this on a phone made by a faceless megacorp, or I could write it on a computer made by a faceless megacorp, using internet services also provided by faceless megacorps. We live in a society, etc. Again, you get it, we all get it. If not, welcome to the shit side of "no ethical consumption under capitalism." There's ways out of all this, but not everyone can dump energy into the full time job of "no capitalism life "

Media produced by monopolies, in addition, is often going to be more polished, both easier to engage with as an audience and having fewer technical flaws. This is related to large corporations having the capacity to pay qualified professionals for services like editing, or to exploit other workers en masse for similar services. In tandem those cut on cost and production time and it's one reason why mass produced media feels more "finished" in many cases, and moves faster. Two guys writing, editing, voicing, and animating a cartoon might put out five minutes of decent quality material every few months if they're very industrious, while Disney can produce media on a schedule delivering multiple weekly animated series continuously thanks to the combination of scale, massive wealth, and exploitative business practices. To varying degrees, this applies to writing, music, and any media with mass distribution. If you ever look at the difference between an independent work and a mass market one, it's useful to remember that even something at a scale as small as a book with one author is worlds apart between one author publish by a small press, versus any author published by a large company that will use better quality materials for the physical book, multiple editors to avoid minor formatting or spelling mistakes, and so on. It's a difference in scale always.

I think everyone knows this in theory but sometimes it helps to lay it out. The scales are tipped in the favor of mass production and mass incorporation from both the perspective of the creator and the audience. Not insurmountably so, not for everyone, but very close and actually insurmountably tipped for a lot of people. It's easy to pay ten bucks a month for Netflix and forget what that easy and cheap access is attached to, and in some cases that's someone's best bet for a little escape from this motherfucker of a system.

Why all this preamble? Because I need to be clear that with all of this understood by me, and as someone who makes concerted efforts to find independent creators (in my area of interest, horror movies, I'm not made of infinite time), that it does get extremely frustrating to get barraged with posts that feel mmm not demanding but let's say pushy, a little pushy about Disney content. Not in the same way people push their own independent content, but in a mass, from multiple people who are independent but unified in support of queer stuff, yes, but Disney queer stuff. And, I cannot emphasize enough, who all understand the preamble above, whose support is for the creators we love and not the corporations who hate us.

And all I really want is just to see support for independent creators blow up that way. There's a few here, Tumblr has the ability to throw its obsessive love of weird found family wet rag murder gremlin blorbos behind independent creators, we've seen it, and we can make more of it, just y'know, see a post about some little no budget horror with the gays, reblog that shit. See a post about a queer novel, share that shit. Spread the emotional investment out from the middle, sometimes.

I dunno. I'm a little over sensitive just because my jam is a smaller piece of the toast. Not as many people wanna get excited about the Sawyers from Texas Chainsaw Massacre as camp queers, or hyped about Erin, the first name only one movie protagonist of You're Next. That's fair, but we can still get more hype for other little movies, other authors. They're always out there. For every other big hype mass media production there's always gotta be like, I dunno, an alternative? I just want an umbrella for when it starts raining "See the New Big Thing."

[loganofthenorth]

Having brain rot about some characters I made awhile back that I want to write a romance story with, so I made them in Picrew

^picrew link if y'all are interested. Highly recommend it

Anywho. This is Cassandra. She is an Autistic bi questioning Demisexual girl with a huge special interest in flowers. She is French/Canadian and was raised to speak both. She speaks French by default at home and English by default in Public. Her mother and Aunts run a music store together and she helps out with it. She is going to College to get a degree in Business so she can open her own flower shop one day. She also enjoys art, music, animals, fashion, nature, and exploring.

This is Dalilah, your average tired college student that deals with ADHD, Social Anxiety, and random spurs of depression. She lives off of Monster Energy drinks, music, and adrenaline. Her passion is a band she has with her friends, and she's taking marketing so that she can A: Get a job in marketing for the sake of paying bills and B: so she can advertise for the band. She's a lesbian and falls hard for Cassandra shortly after meeting her. However between her social anxiety and Cassandra's difficulties with socializing and picking up on subtle cues, it is difficult for her to do anything about it.

I love these characters so much and I also have other characters in this story but I should be sleeping right now so I'll info dump about them another day

#infodump #OCs #lesbian romance story idea #characters #Picrew #poc characters #neurodiverse characters #writer

[superintendent-b]

If Alpha-Nine had civilian jobs what do you think they would be?

Ooohhg, fun question!! 😁 I actually think about this a lot, although in a very unserious manner. Sorry this took a while too, I struggle with writing (like heavy on the struggle) but I tried my best to give them in-character answers. Anyways! here's what I have for you…

Buck — for Buck, there's the obvious answer of fisherman. He's had a lot of experience with fishing and seamanship in his childhood, plus he has plenty of strength and stamina now as a Spartan. I don't see him being a particularly smart man so anything that requires higher education would not be a great fit for him. He could be a nice athlete coach too. We don’t know if Buck is interested in any sport but if we’re weighing in his role as Fireteam Osiris’ advisor and mentor, it could work.

Dare — if I'm being honest, it's hard to see her outside of ONI but considering she's a Section One agent, I think she’d be a good fit for a career like archivist, data analyst, or researcher. She might also make a good detective.

Romeo — he'd for sure be a business owner of some kind. I don’t see him being anyone's employee since he can be a little abrasive with authority figures. So it goes without saying that being in a position where he has autonomy/independence is best for him – plus I think he’s smart enough. Also taking into account his previous experience as a Merchant Marine, he could become the marketing specialist behind his business.

And a silly answer I will not give context for, Bartender. (Maybe bar owner…?)

Dutch — He could continue pursuing religious studies and philosophy. We know he studied religion and philosophy prior to being drafted, and sometime before then, he was a truck driver. A religious study degree could lead him to do non-profits or social work, but there's nothing directly related to the degree that fits Dutch. It's the same story with philosophy – though it's useful for understanding things like business or economics. That being said, why not become business partners with Romeo? They were pretty attached in Helljumper (tbh that was kind of just Romeo… my poor clingy boy.) Of course, he could always go back to being a truck driver, but according to Bad Blood that wasn't very fulfilling after being an ODST.

Mickey — in my personal opinion, he could be a firefighter. It gives him the chance to help others in his community, which we know he's all for, and it's dangerous enough that I think it could work for someone like him. He could also thrive as a political activist or (less likely imo) a political leader. Regardless, I think making money wouldn't be a big concern for him as he would be way more inclined to work for non-profits than someone like Dutch.

Annnd joke answer: GameStop employee.

Gretchen — unfortunately there's not a whole lot on her so anything I say would be pure headcanon. However, I don't think a desk job would make her happy. Despite her disability, Gretchen is still a dedicated and ambitious woman – I’d love to see her in the automotive mechanist/technician field or even just general maintenance and repair (again, there’s nothing to suggest she would, but there’s also nothing to suggest she wouldn’t.) On the other hand, I believe she'd be employed with Romeo and Dutch in whatever business idea they’ve cooked up. She served with them both for… however long… I like to think they became a family.

The Rookie — professional sleeper. 64k a year. I'm joking, Rooks can be whatever you want him to be :)

#thank you for the ask!! :D #voidedbattery #halo #halo 3 odst #alpha nine #edward buck #veronica dare #halo romeo #halo dutch #halo mickey #gretchen ketola #the rookie #ask post #ask prompt #txt post #im so nervous. the writers are going to kill me

[nofearageplay]

What’s going on with Elizabeth Chambers?

An Update:

Good morning Tumblrverse!

I haven’t published in a while, so I wanted to make a post outlining what’s been going on in my life and what’s been causing some of the holdups in my work at the moment. The short answer is YES – both The Padded Princess Playroom and The Diaper Discipline Academy are going to continue, and I have work done on the next story in each series. PPP is much further ahead with a September targeted release, followed by an Oct-Nov DDA drop.

So what’s been happening with Elizabeth Chambers that’s caused so much time to pass with 0 updates?

I’m engaged!

I’m officially off the market, I’ll be getting married in Sept 2024 to my partner who is amazing in every way. She’s by no means a little or a mommy herself, but they’re AB/DL aware and have even worn a couple times with me. Wedding planning and the commitment to my partner have eaten into a bit of writing time, but not as much as the next few items.

We’re long distance…

We live on opposite sides of the country at the moment because of our careers, so traveling and spending quality time together online makes it more challenging to keep my output up.

I’m doing my master's degree

This is a bit of a time sink but it’s a goal I’ve had for a long time and my main job pays for me to do it, so I can’t turn it down. Still, it’s hard to be motivated to write 1,000 words after finishing a 20+ page research paper or 100+ pages of reading every week.

My REAL job has made us return to the office.

Honestly, I wouldn’t have been able to start this work if I was full-time in an office, but now I’m back in the office three days a week. It stinks that I can’t fill my downtime at work by writing smut, but I can’t really do that in my office setting like I can when working from home.

I’ve just been tired.

Honestly, this is the big one. With a long-distance relationship, work, and graduate school, I’m wiped out and need my weekends to recover, which means less time for writing unless that’s what I feel will help me recharge (and it honestly does sometimes!).

In short, life happens, and now I’m in a position where I can write a little more than I was over the last few months, but it’s still a challenge. Thank you to everyone who has messaged me to see what’s going on and for your continued patronage of this little side business I’ve developed. Even with only five books published, and only publishing every few months, I still bring in a few extra hundred bucks a month from this which is amazing, and I couldn’t’ do it without ya’ll.

If you’re still reading this and want to help out, the best thing you can do is to leave a review of one of my books on Amazon! It honestly helps with the algorithm and will provide me with more resources to continue this work, and produce more content moving forward.

Thanks!

-Nofearageplay/Elizabeth Chambers

[unadulteratedfandomtrash]

Thor Odinson x Reader ~ Shopping Lists

A/N: A cute plot idea provided by my lovely friend @drstrangefictions​! I hope you guys enjoy. (Please note that this is supposed to take place roughly right after the first Avengers film in 2012.) I know I have been incredibly slow and inactive, and I apologize for that. A mix of writer’s block and a busy life are to blame. I will try to be more consistent, but I do not want to make any promises. Thank you to those of you who stick around and support my writing in spite of this.

Word Count: 2534

“Hi, welcome to Big Tony’s Supermarket, where prices are so cheap, it should be illegal.”

The day seems to pass too slowly for (Y/n) as she half-heartedly greets every customer who walks into the store and past her spot at the register. She cannot wait to finally leave her retail position behind to pursue her dream of becoming a chef, but unfortunately, she needs this current job until she can achieve her degree and experience before quitting—college is not cheap; while the job is nowhere near desirable, (Y/n) cannot bring herself to complain since her boss pays her quite well. The customers, however, often leave her very wary and uncomfortable. She often chalks it up to the shady neighborhood, but there is nothing she can do about it until the day she can afford to leave town.

One day, she tells herself, she will be able to afford to be jobless for a short period of time as she searches for a reputable restaurant willing to hire her as a chef. There is no way (Y/n) will ever settle for employment in the fast food industry. She has big dreams and refuses to ever go near cheap, greasy food with questionable ingredients. Creating dishes with real food is an art, and (Y/n) will not settle for anything less.

“Hi welcome to Bi-” In the middle of greeting another patron, (Y/n) finds herself tongue-tied and star-struck. The man who passes through the threshold of the automatic doors is nothing like any of her usual customers. Long blond hair whips around as he turns his head to scan the store, his striking blue eyes lighting up with delight once he notices her.

“Are you the keeper of this market?”

“Y-You’re Thor…” (Y/n) utters out in amazement. She never thought she would ever live the day to see a god standing before her, let alone speak to her. “And, umm…I just work here.”

“Then you are the perfect person to assist me,” Thor exclaims with a smile. “My teammates have requested that I purchase something for them. Could you help me, grocer?”

“S-sure thing! What do you need to purchase?”

“I do not recall.” A frown tugs at Thor’s lips as he struggles to recall what the Avengers had told him. He faintly remembers them shouting various things as they passed around a pencil and long sheet of paper. They handed him the paper and shooed him off before he could ask. “I believe they called it a ‘grocery list.’”

It takes every fiber of (Y/n) being to not laugh at the blond god. She realizes that Thor has probably not been on Earth long enough to understand the ways of life for humans, but she cannot help but find humor in his confusion.

“No, no,” she giggles softly. “A grocery list is what we use to write down the stuff we need to buy. Did they give you a piece of paper?”

“Ah, yes!Here it is.” Thor, who is dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, reaches into his pocket to fish out a crumpled ball of paper to hand to (Y/n). “Please decipher this page, grocer.”

Scanning the Avengers’ handwriting, (Y/n) tries her best to make sense of the list. A few items are incomprehensible, but given that she can read a majority of the list, she disregards the minor issue. She grabs a pen from the cubby below the register while beckoning Thor to follow her as she switches off her station’s green light. The god obediently trails with a spring in his step.

“Well, the first item on here is goat’s milk,” (Y/n) informs him, a pen pointing out the messy scribbles at the top of the paper. “For any dairy products, all you have to do is look for the number thirteen.”

A week has passed since a visit from Thor and (Y/n) cannot keep her mind off of him. She tries to convince herself that she is merely infatuated by the idea of having been in the presence of a god, but a small part of her wonders if there is much more. Something about his innocence, his obliviousness, of human customs and ways of life—it attracts her like a moth to a flame.

Warmth suddenly floods (Y/n)’s cheeks, leaving her to pat them in an attempt to dispel the redness. Common sense tells her to disregard the butterflies in her chest; she had only met Thor for two hours that day, so it would be unreasonable to think of him as anything other than another customer.

The sliding of the automatic doors signals the entrance of a customer, so (Y/n) turns to greet them, only to see the one person, the god, who has been occupying her thoughts. Just like the week before, (Y/n)’s words are caught in her throat.

“Grocer! We meet again!”

“Oh,” she gasps, his exclamation having startled her out of her dazed state. “Hi, Thor. How are you today?”

“I am doing well. My team has tasked me with the weekly purchasing of their sustenance.” Thor hands over his list once again, a sheepish smile gracing his features as (Y/n) accepts the sheet with an open palm. “Stark has asked that I bring him a ‘can of sprayable cheese,’ but I am afraid I do not understand why or how curds of milk can be stored or dispensed in such a way.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not too difficult to find, though explaining it is much more complicated.”

“Very well. Please lead the way.”

“Thor! Back so soon? I hope the list wasn’t too difficult for you,” Tony greets with an impish smile as the large god steps out of the tower’s elevator with multiple bags in hand. 

“My journey to the indoor market was absolutely delightful. I was able to retrieve all that you asked without fail. The kind grocer has been aiding my search every time.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What grocer? I sent you to the supermarket, not a farmers market or wet market.”

Thor immediately deposits the bags of groceries on the counter top and goes into detail about the kindness of the female market employee who has been taking it upon herself to personally guide the thunder god throughout the store to pick out the items documented on his shopping list while also providing explanations for any particular items he was unfamiliar with.

“I shall gladly retrieve your weekly necessities without fail, Stark. I am graced with the grocer’s hospitality and beauty each visit. There is nothing she cannot find.”

“Oh really, huh? Nothing she can’t find…”

Once again, thoughts of the thunder god have invaded (Y/n)’s mind as she wanders into the back storage room of the store. This time, her mind begins to wonder what life would be like with Thor. She dreams of herself going on dates with him, sitting in a park with a basket of food, chatting the day away with her head resting on one of his broad shoulders.

The sudden clanging of a can hitting the tiled flooring brings (Y/n) back to the real world. She absentmindedly reaches for the fallen object, but when her hand fails to feel for the round can, she comes in contact with another hand.

Jerking her head up to chastise whoever was about to steal her runaway can she has yet to label with a price sticker when she is met with a friendly pair of blue eyes she has been acquainting herself with as of late.

“Good afternoon,” Thor greets cheerfully as he stands to his full height with the can in his grasp, forcing (Y/n) to rise as well. “I figured I could help you since you have that large box to carry as well. I did not mean to startle you.”

Rather than freezing up, this time, (Y/n) musters up the courage to take the can from Thor to return it to the box, picking it up as she walks the product over to its designated aisle with the thunder god trailing after her.

“How have you been, Thor? Anything exciting happen this week? Not everyone lives in a building with a handful of friends who are also superheroes,” (Y/n) comments without so much as a glance at Thor, too focused on her job of restocking the canned goods. While it doesn’t take very long, she wants to do her best to stay on her boss’ good side.

“Ah, yes. Barton and Stark were ecstatic to receive the haul of requested items. In fact, they were so excited for my trip this week that their laughter was like thunder as I walked away with their list.”

“Really? Well, I am done here, so may I see what you’re here for today?”

At first glance, the shopping list seems normal enough. The team of heroes wrote down grocery items such as vegetables, meats, milk, protein powder, fruits, and so forth—the standard, healthy muscle-building stuff. Yet, as (Y/n) reads further down the list, she suddenly understands the reason for the boisterous laughter Thor had described moments ago.

“What’s this last one, Thor? I can’t really read it.” “Oh! Barton had asked for the particles that fall off of pixies during flight.”

“Pixie dust?” (Y/n)’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead at the description Thor provides her, thus confirming a suspicion she did not want proven to be true. There is no way these human heroes are asking for a substance that is a byproduct of a supernatural creature’s flight activities. Surely this god is just pulling her leg. “Why wo-” “Yes! That is exactly what he asked of me.” Guess he is being serious. While she does not understand why the Avengers are sending Thor on a wild goose chase for magical pixie dust, (Y/n) is more than willing to play along if it means spending more time with him. “Right here at aisle eight.” Walking down to the row filled with shelves of confectioneries and snacks, (Y/n) leads Thor over to several boxes filled with colorful paper tubes. “Here you go: Pixy Stix. It doesn’t exactly come from pixies, but-”

“Perfect! Thank you, grocer.”

For well over a month, (Y/n) has been receiving regular visits from Thor, who seeks her out for assistance with his teammates’ outrageous shopping list requests. Taking advantage of the fact that the thunder god is still learning the English language, the young woman opts to substitute some of the mythical items on the paper with obscure items—usually foods native to an obscure region in the world to keep the Avengers on their toes.

Now, as the register beeps continuously as she continuously passes items through the scanner, the nearby cart nearly filled to the brim, she takes a brief second to wonder how the blond thunder god is able to afford all the groceries; her eyes eventually find the black credit card with Tony Stark’s name on the bottom, reminding her of the true reason for his regular visits. She tells herself to get over the juvenile feelings she has been developing for someone who clearly has no interest in her. 

Thor is just being polite. 

Nothing more, nothing less.

She enjoys helping him, but her heart cannot help but yearn for more. It yearns to see the thunder god every day, to be able to openly express its feelings for him without the worry of rejection. For now, all she can do is placate her hunger for love by pushing aside her thoughts to focus on the task at hand: ringing up Thor’s purchases.

“So, I got most of the items on that list for you,” (Y/n) explains with a small smile, “but I’m afraid some of those things are just not available.”

“I do not understand.” Thor’s face drops as an expression of concern overtakes his smile. “Is it an essential item?”

“No, no, no.” Quick to reassure him, the woman waves her hand in objection while trying to contain the giggle bubbling up her throat. “Well, I mean, unless if you’re something along the lines of a stereotyped witch from popular culture, I doubt you’ll be able to find any yeti hair, griffin claws, or wendigo antlers. Those items are either mythical or fictional. I don’t want to pry, but I think the Avengers are pranking you.”

The look of disbelief and shock on Thor’s face is enough to make (Y/n)’s heart hurt for him. For a moment, she could visibly see the thoughts coursing through his mind.

 The god did not deserve this. 

“Why would they do that?”

She does not have an answer to that. If she had to guess, the newly formed team of heroes have chosen to haze their extraterrestrial teammate. While their long-standing prank seems pretty harmless, (Y/n) still worries. Thor seems to wear his heart on his sleeve, and put his full trust in his teammates. He must have taken the prank too seriously and felt hurt from being sent on a wild goose chase.

“It’s okay, though! It’s just a harmless joke. I’m honestly glad you come in every day. Getting to talk with you really makes me happy.”

A small smile creeps up on the god’s face upon hearing this. He enjoys spending time with (Y/n) too. So much so that the thought of it coming to an end saddens him.

“I do not wish to end our small discussions. Should you allow me to, I would love to escort you to a restaurant tonight for dinner.”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Thor,” (Y/n) asks shyly, a growing blush spreading across her warm cheeks.

“I am.”

Nodding happily with a bright smile, she accepts his proposition. A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells her she still has two hours before the end of her shift, so she relays this information to the blond god.

With a promise from Thor to return after dropping off the groceries at the tower, (Y/n) pushes through the remainder of her shift with a newfound source of energy.

“So, how do you plan on paying for dinner tonight? I doubt you have a job here on Earth that’ll help cover the fees.” The air is chilly as the winds pick up around the young woman and her date. Much to her surprise, Thor had chosen to go to a high end restaurant not too far from her workplace; the price for just one appetizer alone costs more than her hourly salary, which leaves her wary. She is not petty enough to leave the bill all up to the god of thunder, but she simply cannot afford to pay for a full meal.

Glancing over her shoulder, (Y/n) is met with a cheeky smile and wink as Thor reaches into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small black card she has come to recognize.

“I decided that Tony Stark should at least treat us to this meal. Let us consider this as his reparation.”  

#Thor #Thor Odinson #Thor Odinson x Reader #Thor x Reader #Avengers #Tony Stark #Iron Man #Clint Barton #Fan Fiction #Marvel Fan Fiction #Marvel #Marvel Cinematic Universe #MCU #x Reader #Reader Insert #Silly fic

[robotonthemoon]

Beginning of Learning

I've been meaning to write this for a while. As I have previously mentioned here, I am told that market socialism would be a pretty good fit for me. Learning has been a journey that has taken me from some pretty deeply modern republican and libertarian views. I just wanted to share a bit of that journey. I'll put a break here because this will be long.

I am going to be completely honest here: the rise of Trump and his cult of personality has been a major force in driving me away from the party. I cannot stand the man and have never voted for him, even when he was unopposed in the 2020 primary. I just can't fathom how people can hitch their wagon to a guy who has been bankrupt that many times and couldn't sell alcohol, red meat, and gambling to Americans; as though he were some kind of business genius.

But this isn't about him. My journey started before his rise. And it didn't come from leftists telling me "hey, you should believe XYZ" even if I have since learned a lot from left leaning folks. No, my education really started from examining historical figures from the republican party.

"Labor is prior to and independent of capital. Capital is only the fruit of labor, and could never have existed if labor had not first existed. Labor is the superior of capital, and deserves much the higher consideration."

Sounds like something a modern union organiser would say, doesn't it? And yet that was President Abraham Lincoln in his First Annual Address (December 3rd, 1861). Now Abe does go on to state that capital is deserving of its own protections, but he started with and emphasised the greater value and importance of labour.

"It is better for the Government to help a poor man to make a living for his family than to help a rich man make more profit for his company."

And this is from President Theodore Roosevelt (brace for it because I will be mentioning him again). These sentiments really helped push me away from notions of corporate superiority. I fully endorse labour rights and unions now, and can certainly understand where the argument for workers owning the means of production would come from.

Not much of a segue here, but I wanted to mention that if it weren't for health problems (and to a degree concerns about being outed as queer back in the late 90s and early 2000s) I would have considered military service. Probably the Coast Guard. I have a lot of respect for the good work the coasties do, especially the rescue services. Repelling out of a helicopter in the middle of a storm to pull someone out of the ocean is just... heroic.

That said, while I think we need to take better care of our service people, my attitude toward the role of capitalism in respects to the military were very much changed when I read President Dwight Eisenhower's Chance for Peace speech (April 16th, 1953).

"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. The cost of one modern heavy bomber is this: a modern brick school in more than 30 cities. It is two electric power plants, each serving a town of 60,000 population. It is two fine, fully equipped hospitals. It is some fifty miles of concrete pavement. We pay for a single fighter with a half-million bushels of wheat. We pay for a single destroyer with new homes that could have housed more than 8,000 people. . . . This is not a way of life at all, in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron."

This famous section in particular really struck me. He warns us about the military industrial complex. How our priority cannot be military might at the cost of the citizenry. Then I considered this in light of the Bush/Cheney administration findings (at the time, the current value may be different) that the Supplemental Nutritional Assistance Program (SNAP, aka foodstamps) created something like $1.63 in economic stimulus for every dollar spent. A 63% gain on investment is excellent, in addition to helping people! Frankly, I feel like that means we'd do well to just eliminate means testing and give benefits to anyone who asks for it. Reduces bureaucratic overhead and waste while providing more economic benefits. Win win. And on the argument of taxes being put to this purpose:

"Taxes are what we pay for civilized society" Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. (supreme court justice, republican)

My father is a bit of a hippie. He raised me with a lot of talk about saving the environment. Some of that sank in, but I must admit to having periods in my life where I thought along the lines of "screw it, just pave everything". Not anymore. I am strongly in support of environmental protections and restrictions on industry to protect nature. Here's where Teddy Roosevelt comes back in.

“We have become great because of the lavish use of our resources. But the time has come to inquire seriously what will happen when our forests are gone, when the coal, the iron, the oil, and the gas are exhausted, when the soils have still further impoverished and washed into the streams, polluting the rivers, denuding the fields and obstructing navigation.”

Now, Teddy was saying this is the very early 1900s, more than a century ago. I wish we had listened more aptly.

“Defenders of the short-sighted men who in their greed and selfishness will, if permitted, rob our country of half its charm by their reckless extermination of all useful and beautiful wild things sometimes seek to champion them by saying the ‘the game belongs to the people.’ So it does; and not merely to the people now alive, but to the unborn people. The ‘greatest good for the greatest number’ applies to the number within the womb of time, compared to which those now alive form but an insignificant fraction. Our duty to the whole, including the unborn generations, bids us restrain an unprincipled present-day minority from wasting the heritage of these unborn generations. The movement for the conservation of wild life and the larger movement for the conservation of all our natural resources are essentially democratic in spirit, purpose, and method.”

How could I not be moved by this? There are many other quotes by Roosevelt that I could share on the subject of conservation, and I encourage people to look into them, but I will refrain from posting them here because I've already gone on at length.

"This country will not permanently be a good place for any of us to live in unless we make it a reasonably good place for all of us to live in."

One more good Teddy Roosevelt quote to end this with. I hope I have succeeded at least a bit in explaining what started me on the road I'm on now. I'm still learning, and I'm sure I have a ways to go still. I will state, because this is the internet and I know the arguments that could come from this, that I am not claiming these men were perfect. In fact I am quite certain they did plenty of terrible things. I acknowledge that. But that doesn't mean I can't also respect the good they did.

I still consider myself something of a conservative, but my understanding of what that means has changed greatly. Perhaps I am completely mistaken, and I am far more a leftist than I recognise. I believe in slow but steady economic growth and long term outlooks. In building a solid economic base by prioritising workers. In caring for people, rather than judging and discarding those who cannot work. In protecting the environment (the EPA was even started by Nixon) rather than ruining it for next quarter's financial gain.

Not the modern neoliberalism, anti-regulation, profit first thinking that pervades the current right wing. I wonder if Ike is spinning in his grave to see the sort of fascy candidates the party puts forth nowadays, given he commanded forces against their ilk in WW2.

If you have read this far, I thank you for your patience. I know this may draw some people's ire. If you are on the right and feel the need to shout at me, I ask that you learn and consider more of our past. And if you are on the left, I ask you to remember that an imperfect ally is not the same as an enemy.

Have a wonderful day, genuinely. Thank you for your time.

#socialism #wildlife conservation #labor unions #learning #progressive politics #politics

[dimensionten]

Employers Be Like

Listen up you young kids, for I, an Old Millennial (TM), have now been around long enough to Actually Try To Hire People, so now I can send you some advice on why they should invent jobs you actually like and why applying to a job posting is like sending your resume into a black hole.

1. Applying to a job posting

As soon as you apply to a job posting online, you have to automatically assume that you are competing against at least 100 other people.  I, the sad sack who put up a job posting, now have to spend two hours of my already overloaded work schedule (thanks for nothing, boss man) to actually read all of these resumes and pick a handful of the ones I think match our needs the best.  I know it’s discouraging, but I don’t have time to write 97 rejection emails telling you why you, specifically, didn’t make the cut.

If you’re going to spam your resume at literally every job posting that is even vaguely related to your degree just to try to get something, ANYTHING, fine, but expect a whole lot of rejection before you get any results.  Applying to online job postings is a numbers game.  The spray and pray method has a success rate of about 1% for actually getting invited to an interview.  You may be a little more successful if you take the time to actually read the full job description, filter out the jobs you feel pretty meh about, and only apply to the ones where you feel like you meet more than half of the basic qualifications that they listed in the job posting.

2. Carving out a customized niche for yourself

Tired of not even receiving a rejection letter?  Does the job you are looking for not actually seem to exist among the fifty billion job postings you just numbed your brain trying to search through?  Then it’s time to create your own job.

And I don’t necessarily mean starting your own business or side hustle, although that can be an option if you have the means to start small.

First you have to decide what your dream job is - somewhere your skills and your interests intersect.  Trying to decide what you actually want to do and what you might be good at can often be the hardest part.

Then you have to tailor your resume and LinkedIn profile accordingly, as much as you can.  Showcase whatever education, volunteer opportunities, or past projects you worked on match your dream job the best.

I found that it works for me to create a marketing letter, which is like a cover letter for your dream job at your dream company, then send it to your dream company by snail mail, where it won’t fall to the bottom of your would be boss’s inbox and be forgotten a week later.

Here’s what needs to be in a marketing letter:

- Name of a specific person you think will probably be your boss or would at least be in your immediate team.  You can find out about people working at your company of choice by spying on their LinkedIn or reading their About Us page on their website.

- Why should I hire you?  Include a paragraph of your past successes and what you bring to the table.  Embellish a little if you have to.  If you need help figuring out how to market yourself, you can ask people who have worked with you before (even if it’s only on a school project) to describe what they liked about working with you, for example if they knew they could depend on you to get your share of the report done on time.

- Why are you interested in our company, specifically?  Include a paragraph of all the stuff you researched on the company’s website.  What on their website made you decide you want to work there?

Keep the whole thing to maximum one page.

I find that marketing letters have about a 10% success rate in getting an interview.  It takes a lot more work than spamming your resume at a job posting, but it feels like less of a time sucking black hole.

Unless you are very lucky, you will need to send your letters to multiple companies that more or less match your idea of a dream company.  Try to find lists of them, such as the members of a certain group or organization.

3. Got a job interview?

- DO NOT show up an hour and a half early - this is disrespectful of your would be employer’s time.  I am in meetings all day and it’s super awkward having to invite you into the office and leave you sitting there by yourself while I try to get some other work done.

- Do your research about the company who invited you for an interview before you show up.  You have to at least pretend you’re interested in the actual company.  Flatter the boss and tell them which of the company’s projects you’re excited about.  Lie if you have to.  The fastest way to fail an interview is to show up without even bothering to look at the company’s website, and telling the recruiters “you should hire me because I need a job”.

- That, and getting your interviewer’s name wrong.  Twice.  *squints*

(Can you tell I am ranting about one interviewee in particular?  Don’t be that guy.)

#life advice #psa