#and that’s not even including commute time and the fact that she goes in early cause she’s the shift leader

[rushmackay0]

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[miraeism]

>:(

#kinda infuriating that because they’re so short at my mothers work she was to work 4 days a week #and theyre almost all like 15 hour days #it just makes me sad #she should be resting and taking care of her body and like growing her damn tomatoes that infuriate me not working like this 😔 #shawna speaks and no one listens #like she’s almost 50 and works nearly 60 hours a week #her shift starts at 7 am and today she was there until 10pm #and that’s not even including commute time and the fact that she goes in early cause she’s the shift leader #god #maybe it’s okay though cause when she is home she’s thinks too much and spends the entire day sad about my sister #well ig both sisters now LOL #actually it’s really not funny at all #😐 #well anyways

[jjaybank]

a knight in faded cut-offs ~ jj maybank

words: 1,745

warnings:swears

requested:yesss :)

A/N:request from anon - Hii can I request one of JJ x Female Reader? The reader doesn’t have a car so she takes public transportation (taxi, bus, Uber, etc). She oversleeps and misses her ride and gets really stressed out about it. JJ sees her stressing and offers to take her to wherever she was going on his motorcycle. Then when they get there, he asks her out before she goes inside or something like that :)

Hi angel, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get to your request! I will do better.

tagging some beauts (i hope thats okay): @bricksatanakinswindow @socialwriter @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @downbytheouterbanks @maybanksbaby @pixelated-pogues 

 lmk if you wanna be tagged in my stuff (and also if you don’t x) ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You wake with a start, catching yourself freefalling through a dream.  The kind that makes you come round with a jolt and that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach.  You roll over in bed, rubbing sleep from your eyes and yawning into a stretch. Sunlight streams through your shutters and over your bedsheets, illuminating your bedroom in a soft glow. Which you languidly realise is pretty unusual.  The sun is usually only just coming up when you wake for work. Fuck. 

Your heart lurches into your throat and that sick feeling hurtles through your body again as you realise you must have overslept. You scramble around in your bed sheets, eventually shaking your phone onto the floor.  You reach for it desperately, jabbing at the screen.  It’s dead.  You must have forgotten to charge it overnight.  You roll your eyes and groan in panic, jamming the charger into the port.   You race around your room, throwing on your work uniform and frantically pulling a brush through your hair.  You throw the shutters open in haste, anxiously trying to gauge the time by the state of the traffic.  You squint at the fuel station across the street.  You recognise a few of the usual suspects picking up their morning paper and coffees, which relaxes you momentarily because it means that surely you’re not that late.  You curse when you stub your toe on the foot of your bed.   Your phone finally lights up with life and you grab at it while attempting to pull your shoes on one handed.  7.29 AM.   Fuck.   Your eyes dart to the window just as your 7.30 bus rolls on past.  A tirade of swear words cascade from your mouth as you grab your bag and dash for the door. It’s a beautiful day and you hate it. When the weather is bad the bus is always running late, and you are left to wait in a downpour.  But on this gorgeous, bright, sunshiney day here you are sprinting after your ride which has no intention of stopping. You give up on the chase as the bus rounds the corner of the street, resorting to throwing your middle finger up at the retreating vehicle.  Cars beep at you as they whizz past and you smile sarcastically, dipping into an over the top bow as you catch your breath.  You sigh in resignation as you slump against the pole of the bus stop, your mind racing as you consider your options.  You watch the people in the fuel station; a woman filling up the tank of her van, a group of youngsters grabbing sweets on their way to school, a blond guy kneeling beside his dirt bike checking a tyre.  You catch his eye for a moment across the road before you pull your gaze away and down to the tarmac.  You spare a glance for your phone and notice its already dropped back down to 1%.   You work on the other side of The Cut, a half hour bus ride away so you definitely aren’t going to make it on time by foot.  You have neither enough charge nor the cash for a taxi since you usually rely on your bus pass.   You are already on strike two – one more misdemeanour and you’ve got the sack which, given your financial situation, isn’t really something you can afford.   Fuck! And this time you say it out loud – in fact it’s more of a scream. Your outburst catches the attention of several people, including the blond. His head whips up from where he has been focussed on his bike and his brow furrows at your clear distress.  You cover your mouth sheepishly, waving a general apology to the vicinity.  You bury your face in your hands, the disaster of a morning running through your mind. You’ve probably only been awake for around ten minutes and it’s already one of the worst days you’ve had in a long while.  You are considering heading home to charge your phone and risk a call to your incredibly unforgiving boss, when a bike skids to a halt in front of you, sending small stones skittering over your barely tied laces.   You look up in despair, literally how could this day get any worse?   ‘Bad morning?’ It’s the blond guy from the fuel station. You watch in bewilderment as he dismounts from his dodgy looking dirt bike.  You look up and down the street – it’s broad daylight and there are commuters here, there and everywhere, if he’s a kidnapper then he’s a pretty shitty one. You look back to him and he’s watching you expectantly.   ‘Well?’ he probes, shifting against his bike so that he’s leaning against it with a certain air of confidence.   ‘I- uh,’ you stumble over your words and roll your eyes for the hundredth time since you woke, ‘yeah, “bad” would be an understatement.’   You laugh dryly, rubbing the toe of your shoe into the ground. He catches you off guard by flashing the brightest of grins and patting the seat of his bike.   ‘Need a ride?’   You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. ‘Why would you do that?’ you ask, baffled as to why the guy would go out of his way for someone he’d never met before.   He scratches the back of his neck bashfully and his vividly blue eyes meet your sceptical ones.   ‘Are you in a rush or nah? Just tryna get in that good karma.’ He laughs, shaking his head and moving to straddle his bike again.   Your heart thumps against your chest as you weigh up your options.  You really need your job.   ‘Wait!’ You step forward and his head snaps back around, a small smirk playing over his face.  You stretch a hand out towards him and he takes it warmly, passing you the helmet that’s been sitting on the handle bars.   ‘I’m Y/N’ you say, shooting him a brief smile as you secure the helmet on your head.  He helps you settle down on the back of the bike before he slips in front of you. ‘Nice to meet you, Y/N,’ and you can hear the amusement in his voice, ‘my name is JJ, I will be your captain today.’ You can’t help but snort in laughter.   ‘Please hold on tight and keep hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times.’  You wrap your arms around his waist tentatively in response.   ‘I do hope you enjoy your journey today to- wait, where are we going?’ He spins around in his seat to face you, and for some reason you can’t help but match his wide smile.   ‘Heywards,’ you respond, ‘you know it?’ ‘Oh, boy do I!’ He laughs out loud.  ‘Yeah, I get now why you don’t wanna be late.’ ‘Yeah.’ You groan, resting your helmet clad head against his back as he turns back around to start up the bike. The engine rumbles beneath you and before you know it the wind is pulling at your hair as you take off down the street and across the Cut.  You can’t help but enjoy the feeling.  The sun on your skin, the feeling of the boy’s muscles moving against you, the taste of the salt in the air as you pass through the harbour.  If you weren’t so worried about being fired then it would feel kind of magical.   The pair of you let out a whoop of joy as JJ overtakes the bus, each throwing up your middle fingers at the driver as you pass. You really hope he doesn’t recognise you or tomorrow morning will be awfully awkward.   You feel a weird sense of dread as JJ brings the bike to a skidding halt outside Heywards.  And it’s not because of the hour, you’ve made up plenty of time racing across the Cut clinging onto him for dear life.  You pout a little as you return the helmet.   ‘Thank you, JJ.’ and his face splits into a grin at the sound of you saying his name.   ‘It’s nothing.  You should miss the bus more often.’ You laugh at his brazen comment and catch the kind twinkle in his eyes.  You can feel a blush creeping up your neck as his gaze lingers on you for a moment too long. Movement in the shop breaks the moment and you step away from the bike quickly, running a hand through your tousled hair.   ‘Well, I better get going’ you grimace, gesturing towards the shop with your thumb.   He nods, his face twisted in thought. You offer a tight-lipped smile which he returns reluctantly. ‘Thanks again.’ You barely make three steps when you feel a hand wrap around your arm.  You jump a little but find yourself biting your lip against a grin as you come face to face with the boy again.   ‘Hi.’ He beams sheepishly. ‘Hi.’ Your stomach does a flip. You notice his tongue run delicately over his front teeth as he smiles down at you.   ‘I was just wondering if you’d maybe wanna call me sometime? Y’know, if you ever find yourself running late again?’ He surprises himself with how nervous he is, but his words are dripping with charm none the less.

You hold up your phone with a smirk. ‘Dead.’ You shrug and find yourself enjoying how disappointed he looks. ‘But maybe I can give you my number?’  He perks up immediately at your suggestion, rummaging in his pocket and pulling his phone out triumphantly.  You shake your head at his eagerness and type your number into his contacts.  He watches you walk into the store, waving briefly as Heyward shoos him away.   ~ Your day runs pretty smoothly from then on. Heyward even praises you for being a little early that morning.  He does shoot you difficult questions about why you were talking to JJ Maybank, however.  You kind of like that the boy’s reputation proceeded him.  When you finally get around to charging your phone later in the day you have two texts from an unknown number.  You smile to yourself as you open them quickly.   Y/N, it’s your knight in shining armour. I really hope the rest of your morning isn’t so bad. It really was nice to meet you. - JJ

You feel warm inside at the thought of the boy thinking about how your day was. You scroll down to the next message.  

You planning on running late tomorrow too?

And you were seriously considering it. ____________________________________ my requests are open x

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks x reader

[alixanonymous]

How A Demon Commissions An Angel ~ A Daminette FanFic ~ Chapter 10: A Discussion Of Demons

From the phone of Bruce Wayne:

Chat Name: Barbra Gordon

Barbra Gordon: Hey B, do you have a minute? There’s something you should see.

Me: Is this related to what we talked about earlier?

Barbra Gordon: Yes.

Me: I’ll be there soon.

Batcave - Gotham City, New Jersey

12:30 A.M., Nov. 11th

Bruce Wayne was well aware that taking his children out each night to fight crime in the deadliest city in America automatically disqualified him from ever winning a Father Of The Year award. However, as he looked around the meeting table at his sons, he wondered if there was ever any chance for him at all.

Dick Grayson, the first Robin and his first failure as a parent that had somehow turned out well anyway, was smiling around the table at his family like there was nowhere he’d rather be despite the fact that he’d had to make the commute from Blüdhaven on his night off while his ever increasing caseload was waiting for him back at the crappy apartment he called home.

Tim Drake was the son who others outside the family often considered to be his greatest pride, the one who he’d given so much responsibility to at such a young age. He was drinking coffee out of a thermos, larger than any seen before, working on a tablet Bruce couldn't remember the last time he’d put down, and occasionally glancing around the table as if wondering what would be so important to call a meeting on that he didn’t already know about. 

Oh and his greatest failure as a father? Just walked in.

Jason Todd, the son he’d lost due to his own pride that had returned nothing like the child he was when he’d died, came up to the table swinging a gun around one finger that Bruce had since realized was never loaded like that, as if Jason’s self preservation just barely overrode his need for people to know he was not the boy they once knew. How long had it taken Bruce to figure that one out? Too long, too late.

As he’s not one for awkward silence, Jason calls out “What’d the demon do this time?” as soon he reached the others.

Which brings us to the most recent chapter of “Bruce Wayne’s adventures in being a horrible parent.” Best get started then.

“After the incident the other day,” Bruce gives Jason a look and gets a smirk in return, “I asked Barbra to look into Damian’s communications with the French girl.” 

“Wait!” Jason cuts in, “You lecture me for going through his phone and then ask Carrot Top to read his messages? Gee, hypocrite much?”

“I’m sure Barbra would’ve monitored the situation regardless,” Jason scoffs at this and now it’s Dick who’s giving him a look. Bruce continues, “I only wanted her to notify me if she found anything concerning.”

He stands up to pass out the papers he’d brought with him. Normally, he’d just bring the files up on the BatComputer but Bruce Wayne is nothing if not addicted to self-punishment and he likes physical evidence of his shortcomings as a human being.

“These are excerpts from their messages over the last week or so.”

Since he’s already memorized everything in those packets and has every word imprinted in his mind, all that’s left to do is watch his sons read history repeating itself.

Tim, unsurprisingly, is the faster reader and as he goes through the papers, he has a look of confusion on his face that only intensifies as he goes on. Once he finishes, he takes a swig from his thermos like there’s alcohol in there instead of caffeine although with how he makes it, Bruce thinks it’d be equally strong either way. He then flips back to the start and begins to read it over again.

Dick’s smile is long gone by the end of the first page. As he reads on, the only way to describe his expression is heartbreak. His eyes become shiny and when Bruce sees this he can’t help but think it’s a miracle that the person who has been in this longer than everyone except him and Alfred can still manage to wear their heart on their sleeve in spite of the life they lead. His smile becomes a frown near the end.

Jason as always is the hardest for him to read. At some point early on, he stops spinning his gun around, placing it on the table as he hunches over to read closer to the papers. There’s a look of concentration on his face that Bruce hasn’t seen in a while along with something else. There’s an ache in his chest when he realizes that he doesn’t know this Jason well enough to know if it’s anger or pain. Once he’s done, he looks away from the table and stares off into space. Again, Bruce is unable to tell whether he’s just lost in thought or actively avoiding looking at them, him. 

Dick is the first to break the silence, “That’s it! I’m moving back in.” 

Bruce can’t decide if he’s relieved by the offer or angry at himself because he’s such a bad parent he needs his eldest son to raise his youngest.

Since this isn’t Dick’s first time making this particular statement, he expects Tim to shut him down like he normally does. When he turns to look at Tim however, Bruce finds him rereading the part he can easily identify as when Damian is explaining how he doesn’t hate Tim. He almost didn’t include it in the packets he distributed as he was sure Damian would not want them to find that out this way but something had compelled him to leave it in.

“So,” Jason starts and Bruce braces himself, “What’s the plan?”

They all turn to look at him expectantly.

“I brought you all here to get your opinions on what to do,” Bruce explains, trying to proceed with caution as he’s definitely the one responsible for this problem.

Jason lets out a bitter laugh, “No, of course you don’t have a plan already. Any one we come up with will probably involve you talking to your own kid and none of us would be here if you knew how to do that.” 

“Jason!” Dick reprimands, sounding a little exhausted. It somewhat works and Jason goes back to ignoring them in favor of his thoughts. The damage is down however and Bruce will add that moment to the others he uses to remind himself of his mistakes.

“Where is Alfred? What does he have to say about all of this?” Dick asks and Jason’s attention shifts back to the table.

Bruce was not at all looking forward to dealing with the disappointment from the closest thing he has to a father figure, especially given how many times he had been encouraged by Alfred to talk to Damian, only to push it back time and time again.

He answers, “He’s making sure Damian stays asleep and away from the cave. I’ll fill him in on everything later.”

Stephanie and Cass were patrolling Gotham tonight, covering for Bruce and Tim who’s turn it had been when the meeting was called. Barbra was across the room, directing them as usual from the BatComputer. She would catch them up upon their return.

There’s silence once again only to be broken when Tim finally joins the discussion.

“Did Damian tell you why he broke that girl’s hand?” Tim asks Dick, the most likely of them to be confided in.

Once more, Dick looks heartbroken as he shakes his head.

“Please, did you even give him a chance to?” Jason asks while looking straight at Bruce as if he already knew the answer to that, and he did.

While his youngest son had been suffering from a lack of education about boundaries, Bruce has been busy doing damage control, never once asking what had provoked Damian. It seemed being the World’s Worst Father trumped the title of World’s Greatest Detective.

Dick too already knew the answer to that so he didn’t wait for a reply before continuing the conversation. “How did we never notice how his idea of boundaries was so warped?”

“It’s right here,” Tim answers, pointing at one of the papers. “Damian usually scared everyone off before they got too close so it never came up before. We were too focused on pushing him to make friends to notice the problem was more than just antisocialness.”

If Bruce wasn’t certain this was all his fault, he might take a moment to curse Talia once more for just how much his ex-lover had screwed up Damian’s ability to live a normal life.

“Somebody’s going to have to explain that to him. He can’t keep going on thinking we expect him to allow people to touch him without his permission,” Dick says, looking towards Bruce and not noticing Jason and Tim raising their eyebrows at that behind him. At least two of his sons seem to know him well enough to doubt the possibility of that conversation going successfully.

“Yeah, but like how do we explain the nuance to him? I mean, yeah that girl messed up but also most people would just brush her off. That’s what we would do. He can’t attack every person who reaches out for a handshake and think it all counts as self defense,” Tim adds. Dick and Bruce both look thoughtful at this.

Jason looks frustrated with them as he states, “You’re treating him like he’s a kid. I think even the demon spawn can tell the difference between a handshake and someone getting too handsy. You guys acting like he’s always seconds away from going into full assassin mode is part of the problem. Jeez, ever heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy?”

Bruce looks at his other two sons and finds Dick looking sheepish and Tim looking down at the table. He just sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose before deciding that of all his children, Jason might actually be the most qualified to tell him how he failed as a parent.

“What would you have me do then?”, he asks and for a moment Jason looks like he can’t decide whether or not the question is sincere. 

“Well, I’d maybe start by not calling secret midnight meetings to talk about him behind his back,” he starts in a casual tone that is most definitely sarcastic, “Or no, actually let’s start by not going through his messages because you know at some point you’re going to have to sit down and talk to him about all this stuff and I doubt fessing up that you’ve invaded his privacy, compromised his safe space, and shared his deepest insecurities with almost the entire family will win you any brownie points.”

The other three people seated at the table freeze and take a moment to let that implication sink in. Bruce thinks he sees even Barbra wince across the room out of the corner of his eye. 

Jason’s not finished yet. He continues, “You know exactly what you have to do, you knew before you called us and before you even read those messages. Yet for some reason you still keep approaching this as Batman when really the kid just needs his dad to talk to him sometimes like he’s more than just another problem for you to solve.”

That was the biggest difference Bruce could see in him. This Jason didn’t hesitate to go for the kill. While subtlety was more Bruce’s style, no one could deny it was brutally effective.

Avoiding the obvious barb, he tried to focus on the advice. Talk? He could do that. Although…  Dick could probably do that better so maybe they should have him do it. He opens his mouth to suggest this but someone else is already speaking.

Dick’s saying, “Okay, I agree with that but it doesn’t look like B’s the only problem here. Little D seems to be feeling left out.”

Mistaking Dick’s meaning, Bruce recalls his reasons for keeping Damian away from Wayne Enterprise and wonders if perhaps he had been too quick in his decision making. There was no harm in letting Damian learn about the company.

Well as long as there was someone equipped to guide him.

“I’ll arrange an internship for him with Lucius Fox, or actually why not have him shadow you for a while, Tim? That might give you two a chance to see eye to eye on some things,” Bruce proposes. 

Tim looks uncomfortable at this but lucky for him someone is already jumping to shoot down this idea.

“Oh hell no!” This is Jason of course. “When are you going to finally see this whole ‘I’ll just let other people handle my son’ thing ain’t working out? Did you even read these before making copies for everyone and their mother? Damian clearly still isn’t over you giving away his ‘birthright’ to the replacement,” Jason says, making finger quotes at birthright. “Making him shadow Tim would be like rubbing it in his face.”

“Yeah, second that. That should be something you introduce him to, like you did with Timmy,” Dick agrees, smiling encouragingly before going on to say, “Although that’s not what I was getting at. I meant that he feels left out in the family, not just with the company. I just knew he needed more brother bonding time!” 

Both Tim and Jason grimace but it’s too late. No one can stop Dick Grayson when it comes to his family and so the last half of the meeting is just Dick mapping out his whole plan of ways to incorporate Damian more into the family including movie nights and a new group chat that’s  not BatBusiness related. 

Tim looks like he’s taking notes and pulls out his phone a couple times to cross check all their schedules because of course he has everyone’s on hand. Jason for the most part looks like he’s not paying attention at all only to then interrupt and shoot down an idea with very valid reasoning to back him up. Bruce just listens and follows their lead, only to be reminded every few minutes that he’ll also have to work on spending time with Damian on his own. He’s coming up with his own plan in his head that may or may not utilize some of their ideas as well.

They’re wrapping things up when Tim suddenly has a question. “What about the French girl? Should we be worried about her selling this to the tabloids?” he asks, holding up the messages.

Jason snorts and mutters something about bat paranoia although he is the only one to have personally talked to the girl and Bruce wonders if he would still share that sentiment if that weren’t the case. They all knew the lack of respect the media showed to their wish for privacy.

“No, she doesn’t seem to be cause for concern,” Bruce assures the other two, leaving out the fact that Ms. Dupain-Cheng didn’t even know his son’s last name. He knew that would only lead to more questions from them and since he’s already ruined so much, he refuses to also spoil the surprise Damian had in store for them for Christmas. He already made sure to have Barbra prevent the others, namely Tim, from accessing the rest of the messages as Bruce is positive he was planning to.

Sure enough, Tim gives him that look that directly translates to “Nevermind, I’ll look into it later”. Bruce doesn’t acknowledge it or encourage him.

Jason doesn’t seem satisfied with his response and launches his defense of the girl. “Yeah, no. None of you are allowed to mess with Spitfire. She seems like the only person the demon spawn’s got on his side that actually respects his boundaries. So don’t screw this up,” he finishes before getting up and leaving the cave, but not without a pointed look to Bruce. Tim follows after him, thermos and tablet in hand now alongside the packet of papers.

Bruce expects Dick to make his exit too so he doesn’t wait to do what he’s wanted to since this disaster of a meeting began which is bury his head in his hands and sigh. He’s surprised but doesn’t startle at the hand that lands on his shoulder. 

“It’s not your fault,” Dick starts and Bruce just gives him a look. 

“Yeah, okay so it’s kind of your fault,” he huffs out a small laugh before continuing, “But it’s not something he can’t come back from and it’s not an excuse for you to go into your ‘I’m a bad parent and my children are better off without me’ mode.” He’s the one getting the look now, the one that says “You know I’m right”.

And Bruce does know that yet he still feels the need to argue, “I-” is all he gets out before he’s cut off again, which may be good since he really didn’t know what he was going to say.

“Stop. Just stop, B. That kind of thinking is what got us to this point in the first place. Okay? Now the rest of us we get it now but Damian, he’s too young to figure out that you’re not rejecting him so much as trying to save him from yourself, for some stupid reason that I’m sure you think makes sense in your head. And yeah, I know you still feel guilty for how he spent his childhood, you know with the League and all but Bruce, at some point you’re just gonna have to get over yourself and realize he’s here now. He’s safe. He’s got us now and we’re going to fix this, alright?” Dick says, pleading and Bruce guesses he’s not the only one needing this pep talk at the moment.

So he says the only thing he can say to that which is, “Okay.”

Dick gives him a small smile and a pat on the shoulder before also making his leave, but not without saying goodbye to Barbra of course. 

After he’s gone, Bruce feels a wave of exhaustion wash over him and decides to do what he so rarely does and leave whatever work he has left to go over for the morning. The talk with Alfred can wait till then too he figures.

He makes his way out of the cave and up to the manor. While the lights are on upstairs, there’s no sign of Alfred and no need to track him down at the moment so Bruce heads straight for his bedroom before stopping along the way in front of a door that’s not his own. 

It’s been awhile since he’s done this and he’ll probably dwell on why that is later but he quietly opens the door and checks on his son, taking care not to wake him. For some reason unknown to them all, Damian almost never turns out his light when he sleeps so the picture Bruce gets is a clear one. His youngest is curled up on his side around his Great Dane, Titus while Alfred the Cat is sleeping at the foot of the bed. Bruce wonders if it’s also a coincidence that he’s angled toward the phone resting on his nightstand. 

He used to do these late night check ins more often when Damian first came home. It took him a while to fully believe he’d had a child for so long that he hadn’t known existed so he’d check in every night as if afraid the boy would disappear. Even now, he’s still surprised by how young and untroubled Damian looks in his sleep. Not wanting to disturb the peaceful picture, he gently closes the door and heads to bed.

Wayne Manor - Gotham City, New Jersey

6:30 A.M., Nov. 11th

The first thing Damian always does when he wakes is take in his surroundings. This had first become the case in the early days after he had come to live with his father, back when he would wake up forgetting he had left the League. It was why he refused to turn off his lights at night if he didn’t have to, despite being raised in the shadows and continuing to work in them to this day. It was now a subtle reminder to himself that he had escaped the past and a little act of rebellion against his upbringing.

Alfred the Cat was still sleeping at the foot of the bed but Titus was nowhere to be seen which meant Pennyworth had probably let him out already. He gives himself a few minutes to get his bearings before checking his phone. The only notification is for a sappy “Good morning! Have a good day at school!” text from Grayson which makes Damian wonder if he has what he’s heard other people refer to as “empty nest syndrome”, whatever that means. He also sees the texts he exchanged with Marinette the day before and in the privacy of his room, smiles while remembering parts of their conversations. 

Twenty minutes later he heads down to breakfast, dressed in his school uniform with his phone in hand on a singular mission to get a picture of Drake’s coffee for the girl he… didn’t want to disappoint. 

It’s here! Yay! I feel like this took forever and a day but I’m happy with it finally! AO3 comments might’ve also restored my confidence in my writing so if you left one thank you! :) Now I’m off to relax and reread comments over and over again (while giggling stupidly) since this stubborn and stressful chapter is finally done! Till next time! <3

Master List

#MariBat #Daminette #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Damian Wayne #FanFiction

[emma-what-son]

(Echee post) Emma Watson bailed out of junket interviews because she was "sick"

Posted on November 10, 2015

Below is from a live blog session at laineygossip.com. It's has been a pro Emma place. In fact some of their articles make me throw up in my mouth because it's almost like fan fiction/praise. They even did an article in a over protective motherly fashion worrying about Emma's association with big time notorious needs anger management movie producer Harvey Weinstein that I posted. An anonymous commenter pointed this out to me. What is intriguing to me about this "sick" claim was on the days of these press junkets in both London and NYC I was trolling the usual Emma and Potter forums for things and a lot of people mentioned this "sick" claim but I thought nothing of it. Apparently so true but there is a problem here. From laineygossip.com July 19th, 2011 12:22 Em E: Emma Watson's latest press tour for HP7pt2 has left a bad taste in my mouth - and I have always LOVED her, and loved all the cast of harry potter. Anyone else feel this? and is this oxford business just another excuse for dropping out to pursue business things? 12:23 Sarah: Em--I AGREE. I've had to ignore her. If I want to preserve liking her, I have to ignore her right now. That said, I want to believe doing a year at Oxford is for real because I'm in Emma's corner. Also, I wonder if she didn't find herself being more homesick than she anticipated at Brown. 12:23 Lainey: Em - she bailed out of junket interviews in London, claimed she was "sick". Did the same for junket interviews in NYC last week. Said she was "sick". Was seen at the spa. That girl is ...starting to live inside her own head. We'll see where this goes. 12:23 Lisa: I agree with Em......i saw her on Letterman and there was too much TRY going on. 12:24 Soma: Emma is probably being told that she will be the only one who is going places post-Potter. 12:28 Lizzy: What was wrong with her press tour? She was excellent. Seriously women. Always have to put other females down (for no reason). But this is the world we live in. 12:29 Lainey: Lizzy - when you agree to a press tour, you commit to interviews and appearances. You have a team of people working around you who have made promises and assurances to their constituents which include media, sponsors, marketing folks, etc. Daniel, Rupert, Tom, Matthew, and the rest were able to honour their commitments. Emma claimed to be sick, didn't do the most boring parts, went to the spa, was photographed shopping, and still got dressed up in a pretty gown and went full on for makeup and hair so that she could have her picture taken. THAT is not a grown up decision. THAT is you being a fan girl and incapable of looking past what's spoon fed to you by a pretty smile. Update:This is from Lainey again, one year later, September 12, 2012: "As you know, I love her a lot. I expect I will love her for a long, long time. Long relationships are not without their challenges though. And I suspect Emma and I we might be going through a rough patch. It’s been building for a while. Last year at the junket for the final Harry Potter movie, Emma was the only one of the top 3 who didn’t show for interviews. They said she was sick. She was not too sick to pose pretty on the red carpet at the premiere." From Khaleej Times July 18th, 2011, "Though much has been made of Watson’s departure from Brown – rumours suggest that fellow students made it too difficult for her to stay – the actress herself cites other, perfectly plausible reasons for her decision. “I knew I had to be back in the U.K. because I had ADR (sound re-recording) to do for Deathly Hallows, Part 2,” she says. “I have to promote this film, and trying to commute from the U.K. to Brown and get all my assignments in on time and still show up for all the premieres and junkets and do all the Potter work I still had left to do. It was all just looking so silly. As I tried to map it all out in my head, I realised that it was just going to be impossible and that I wasn’t going to do a good job for the movie and get good grades at Brown, basically, which is what I

want to do. I’m quite hard on myself like that. So I just wanted to do my best, rather than be pulled into a million pieces and not be as professional or have as much energy as I’d want to put into anything I’m doing.” ... cough.. cough...bullshit, lol. She left brown for Perks of being a Wallflower and Lancome and deleted a facebook wall post a week prior before her spring term began stating she was getting ready to go back to Brown. I've documented this on various posts and there are links to fan sites of that facebook wall post. If Emma was so sick why was she photographed busting a move on the dance floor all evening at the after party in London and papped in the early hours in a short black mini dress looking smug as ever with that smirk she gives or better yet, calling it a night early to rest up for NYC? I have those pictures in one of my blogs. Secondly, if she was so sick in NYC why did she go to that NYC strip club instead of attending the after party in NYC or better yet laying low to get better? I have that report in another one of my blogs. Sick people don't go looking for the party and professional people don't shirk there responsibilities to go party. Lainey gossip in their last comment is describing how I think Emma truly is in general wanting all the attention. She did do that wearing that 6,000 pound/dollar dress to the press conference in London while others dressed down and those other dresses.

Maybe because she was hanging out with perks of being a Wallflower Ezra Miller. She brought him to the DH2 premiere. Apparently she got better to go to a NYC strip club.

#echee #echee's posts

[positivlyfocused]

It’s easy to get people to do what I want. Being Positively Focused is the key.

These two stories show what I mean.

I have a friend I'll call Jeff. Lately he’s been involved with a guy he’s head-over-heels for. So he spends nearly all his free time with that guy.

One day I sent Jeff a text inviting him over. He texted back saying he was pretty busy and offered the following week. That never happened.

Two weeks later I was riding my bike to get groceries. On my way I thought about Jeff. Then, I thought how great it would be to see a super hero movie. It had been a while since I saw one.

A day after buying my groceries, I realized I "accidentally" left at the register a bag of mixed nuts I bought.  I called the store. They said the checker remembered me and invited me to come get a replacement. I told them I'd head that way, weather depending.

I was enjoying creating art for my projects that morning. I really didn’t want to go. But then I got a strong impulse to go. I try to immediately respond to strong impulses.

So I checked the weather. No rain until afternoon. I jumped on my bike and headed over.

On my way, I rode past Jeff's home. His door upstairs was open, which I thought was strange because his car wasn’t there.

Then, guess who comes around the corner in his car. It's Jeff! We greet and hug. He tells me he just broke up with his boyfriend. I told Jeff that was perfect because now he can hang out with me.

He laughed and said, “and yeah, maybe we can go see a movie too. I hear that new Joker is really great. We should go this Sunday!"

See the connection? Just the other day I thought how cool it would be to see another comic book movie and here Jeff is suggesting we go to one. And, since “accidentally” forgot some nuts, I was able to connect with him in perfect timing, in person! How cool is that?

· · ·

I'm learning to interpret impulses I get as open doors. I don't have to walk through. When I do, though, life delivers all kinds of surprises.

The week comes to an end. I haven't been thinking about Jeff, or the movie he suggested we go see. But on Friday I heard a movie review. The movie stars Brad Pitt. It's called Ad Astra. It sounded good.

I thought about Jeff and our Sunday plans. Then I thought, "I'd rather see Ad Astra than Joker."

Sunday morning comes. I wake to wonderful dreams, enjoy a deep meditation and do a dream analysis. Then I prepare for my day using my Positively Focused framework.

I need next week's groceries, so I check the weather. There's a 90-minute rain-free window that comes...and goes.

I miss it.

So I put on my rain gear, take out my bike and head to get next week's groceries.

Now, I know I'm in in tune with the Universe because of  what happens in my moment-by-moment life experience. When I'm in tune, the weather cooperates. People are friendly and generous.

Just before I head out, the rain stops. When I get to the store, I meet all kinds of friendly people. I have great conversations with other customers. Store employees are helpful and conversant. Pleasant too.

^^A continuous stream of happy people coming into my life indicates a strong connection with my Inner Being and the Universe.  (My illustration)

I know I'm in a great Positively Focused place. So it was no surprise what happened next.

I get a text message. It's from Jeff. It says: "what do you think about seeing Ad Astra?"

Of course the story doesn't end there. We ended up going to the movie and having a great time.

· · ·

This next experience came six months later. The more I'm Positively Focused the gap between one seemingly magical event and the next narrows. These days, magical things happen near-constantly. Only it's not magic. The universe want's all of us to have what we want.

The more I tune into universal frequencies, the more things I want happen with no effort. Including people acting in ways I'd prefer.

I've said in previous posts I ride my bike to and from work. I like riding my bike, even in cold weather. It's a great workout. The trip takes about 30 minutes.

But it's late fall, early winter. It's getting really cold and rainy. I have the right riding equipment. So I'm comfortable, but one day I wondered about how it would be when temperatures dip below freezing.

One night at the end of my shift, I had a thought. It said "Diane is going to offer to drive me home tonight." Diane is another delivery driver.

When she drives home each night, she drives right by my house. I've never asked her for a ride because I like riding my bike. But this night, I had this thought.

When I got this thought, I let it sit there. I didn't think about it any more than it was: a passing thought. But I imagined how nice it would be riding home in a warm car...

I clocked out. Then Diane came in. She clocked out, turned to me and said "let me take you home tonight. I'm worried about you riding home in the dark, at night, in the rain."

I wasn't surprised. I knew this was going to happen. When it happened, that's what it felt like. That it was going to happen.

The next several weeks rain fell heavy. Winds blew hard and it was really cold. It's like Diane knew the future.

Not only did Diane offer to drive me home. When we got to my house, she offered to pick me up the next day too.

Every day since then, we've been carpooling to and from work. I didn't have to ask. It just happened.

I'm starting to interpret some thoughts as precognition. My Inner Being told me it was going to happen. Then it happened.

· · ·

A manifestation, no matter how amazing, always contains seeds for the next manifestation. Life is always getting better for a Positively Focused person. So even when something really cool happens, life says "hold my beer" and tops it. What happens next demonstrates that.

I was enjoying riding to and from work with Diane. We became friends. But Diane has a story about money related to her family. Right now she's the main bread winner as her husband is in school learning to become a teacher. Diane believes she must maximize her income as the bread winner.

What that means is, every evening, Diane would hang out at the van lot, or at the station and stretch out her shift to earn extra hourly time. I didn't like that very much. I preferred to get home asap so I can write blogs like this one, draw or do other things.

While I didn't like what was happening I didn't try doing anything about it. I didn't talk to Diane about it. I didn't complain. Instead I considered the positives: being driven home. Not biking in the cold rain...

Honestly, though, there were times when I complained to myself a little. Sometimes I debated whether or not I should go back to riding my bike. I thought how nice it used to be getting home before 9 p.m.

Commuting by car was nice too though.

Then one morning when Diane picked me up, she said she needed to finish right when our shift ended. She said she planned to take her daughter out for her birthday. We finished right on time that night and got home early.

That felt nice.

^^Diane and me coordinating our on time departure from work.

The next day I asked her how the birthday event was. Then I said "it was nice to get home early. Wasn't it?"

She agreed.

Then, the following day, Diane told me that her husband asked why was she was coming home so late all the time. He reminded her they were doing fine financially. There was no reason, he said, for her to work extra time each shift.

It’s interesting how that conversation happened. I had nothing to do with it. And yet at the same time, I knew my Inner Being's hands (if it had hands) were all over this.

So when Diane told me what her husband said, I just said very casually how nice it would feel to come home early every night.

From that day forward, we always left no later than 15 minutes after our shift. That was nice! Because of that, I got home 15 minutes earlier than had I took my bike.

I can tell Diane likes coming home early. I'm sure her husband does too.

Both these stories show how intending rather than trying to control people creates my reality. The more Positively Focused I get, the more life just starts working this way. Things happen literally with no effort on my part.

And the fact that I recognize it when it happens delights the Universe. And that makes the Universe want to deliver more such experiences. That's the upward spiral I referred to in earlier posts. The better it gets, the better it gets.

It's easy to get people to do what you want. The key is lining up with the leverage of the Universe. I do that by being Positively Focused.

When I'm Positively Focused, the Universe does all the work. Things I want come easily. Often they come through other people. When it happens this way, the people are more than willing to do what I want because doing it is in their best interest too.

And that's the easiest way to have other people do what you want: let the Universe make it happen for you.

#positive thinking #positive thoughts #positiveaffirmations #positivity #positive mental attitude #positivevibes #positiveattitude #positivemindset #spiritual life #spirituality #spiritual journey #spiritual_guide #spiritualgrowth #spiritualinspiration #spiritualawakening #spiritual #happiness #how to be happy #happylife #life lessons #self appreciation #appreciate #meditation #Mindfulness #enlightenment #enlightenyourself #lifepurpose #MindfulLiving

[bytheangell]

Make It Right

(Read on AO3)

“I don’t need this ridiculous app,” Alec mutters, flipping through the start-up questions of the dating app. “I can just go meet someone if I want to go on a date.” 

He doesn’t need to see the ‘uh-huh, sure’ looks of clear disbelief that Jace and Izzy are giving him to know that they aren’t buying it. He doesn’t blame them - the three of them lived together for years and almost all of Alec’s current friends he made through one, or both, of his siblings. But then Izzy and Clary got engaged and Izzy moved out, leaving just him and Jace; and as entertaining as experiencing Jace’s flavor-of-the-week girlfriends first hand is, Alec just couldn’t keep up the commute to his new job and live with Jace. Barely two weeks ago Alec moved into his own place much closer to work, alone.  The decision was easy knowing it was only a matter of time before they all went their separate ways, figuring it’d be easier to start now and acclimate. 

Alec thought it’d be freeing to separate himself from his siblings. Instead, all it did was make them even more concerned that he was just going to sit alone in his apartment for the rest of his life when he wasn’t teaching. 

He wishes he could say otherwise, but less than two weeks in and all he’s done is prove them right. 

It didn’t take long for him to extend his office hours at the university and make more time to volunteer at events around campus. He also spends longer on campus, staying to support some of the sports teams at home games, but he talks to plenty of people while he’s at work. He tells his siblings - and himself - that spending more time at the University is just what he has to do as an Assistant Professor to make a good impression, and swears up and down that it isn’t just a distraction technique. 

They all almost believe it, himself included.

“Fine,” Alec agrees, hoping to humor them enough to get them off of his back about this. “One week. And if I hate it, I’m deleting it and you’re never forcing me to fill out another one of these profiles again,” he concedes. 

Jace goes to argue but Izzy cuts him off. “Deal,” she agrees quickly. “Now, let me take a photo of you for your profile.” 

“What’s wrong with the one I’m using now?” Alec asks, having planned on just using the same one from his Facebook on here. 

“If you have to ask that’s a sure sign you need my help,” Izzy sighs. “Now, smile.” 

...43 minutes later, Izzy has a photo that she’s satisfied with. It’s a ‘very casual’ picture of him sitting by the window in his apartment, in a plush armchair he got second-hand, one leg dangling over the arm while the other curls underneath him. It was horribly uncomfortable even if he manages to hide that fact from the photo itself. 

“There!” She exclaims proudly, putting some sort of filter on it before posting it so that none of the colors are the same as the original photo, something which he definitely doesn’t understand but knows better than to question.  “I’m not sure how you manage to make an exposed ankle look so attractive, but I think it’s going to work for you.” 

“...thank you?” Alec says, the question heavy in his voice over what he can only assume is meant to be a compliment, even if it is the strangest one he’s eve received. 

“Alright, so what you’re going to do is swipe left when--” Izzy starts in, though Alec is quick to stop her. 

“I said I thought it was stupid- I don’t live under a rock. I know how it works.” In all honesty, he had used one or two of them in the past. But back when he was fully closeted he always just closed it in a panic the moment he even considered swiping right on an attractive guy.  Also he never in a million years would’ve told his siblings when he had them because he knew what would happen. 

And he was right, because it’s happening now. 

 “And I’m not going to do it while you’re here. So let’s just pick a movie, and I’ll look at it later.” He turns his back to them to head into the kitchen to grab some popcorn and drinks, and doesn’t even look back to check their reactions before adding, “I promise!” 

He hears them finally move at that, shifting the sofa so it’s closer to the table in the middle and gathering all of the pillows up into one area from their respective chairs. 

They watch the movie, end the night early because they all have work in the morning, and Alec waits until Izzy and Jace are both safely miles from his apartment before he pulls his phone back out and opens up the dating app. 

He flicks through the profile for a few minutes, looking at the photo Izzy chose and wondering why he couldn’t just use something that didn’t look staged. In fact, the longer he looks at it, the more he doesn’t like it at all, and ends up closing back out of it without doing anything. 

“...well, I only promised to look at it later.” Alec mutters to himself before setting his alarm for early enough to stop by the coffee shop on campus on the way to his office. 

---

The line for coffee the following morning is twice as long as usual - something he should’ve anticipated given the fact that it’s Monday and half the campus seems to need some extra help recovering from their weekends. He’s in the process of very visibly judging a group of freshman wearing frowns full of regret as well as sunglasses indoors when a voice sounds behind him, just next to his shoulder. 

“Oh, come now, Alexander. Surely you remember those days.” 

Alec spins around to see Magnus Bane who is sporting yet another new jacket, this one with some sort of adornments on the shoulders paired with pants tailored so perfectly he looks as if someone plucked him off of a runway. Alec knows the jacket is new - Magnus’ second new jacket this week - because he’s spent the better part of the academic year making a mental note of every outfit Magnus wears, determined to experience just  one that doesn’t make Alec’s breath catch at first glance. Right now he’s 132 for 132.

Not that Alec is counting. 

“Not really,” Alec admits. “I wasn’t a big drinker.”

He shifts his gaze from the students back to Magnus to find the other Professor giving him a quick once-over as if sizing him up. “No… I suppose you weren’t.” Magnus says after a moment of consideration. 

Alec is pretty sure he should be offended by that, even though he brought it up first and Magnus is only agreeing. 

Despite his immediate crush on Dr. Bane, one which only got worse as the year went on, Alec kept (and sadly, continues to keep)  his distance. For starters, he isn’t out at the University yet, not to any of his students and certainly not to any of the faculty.  He’s new here and still warming up to them, careful to keep any talk of dating or relationships vague enough to not be a lie while also not giving too much away. Secondly, when Alec started Magnus had a girlfriend, and after 3 months of burying any hint of feelings he felt it was just easier to continue on that way even after  he got wind that they broke up. 

There’s also the small fact that every time Alec has the chance at starting something new with someone, he ends it before it can even begin. He catches  himself doing it with Magnus the past few months- every time Magnus tries to extend an olive branch and be proper friends Alec practically runs in the other direction. He’s made a fool out of himself with fumbling excuses and forced abrasiveness more times than he can count - why Dr. Bane is still so nice to him, Alec  doesn’t think he’ll ever understand. 

Normally this is where Alec would excuse himself, but unfortunately the line is crawling along at a snail’s pace as Magnus continues, forcing Alec into the first proper one-on-one conversation they’ve had in months. 

“I, on the other hand, still can’t get enough of a good club. I assume you haven’t been to any around here?” Magnus waits for the shortest pause, already knowing the answer, before going on. “I know a few secret gems just far enough out of downtown to be mostly student-free, if you’d ever like to go sometime.” 

“I’m not much of a dancer, either” Alec says with a shrug, missing the flicker of disappointment fall across Magnus’ face as he side-steps the offer. “My sister Izzy says she won’t  even dance with me at her wedding because she’s afraid I’ll end up breaking her toe or something.” 

That startles a laugh out of Magnus and Alec smiles back at the sound of it, melodic and carefree. He finds that he’s far too pleased with himself for being the reason behind it and does his best to bite back a grin of his own. 

“Sounds like you just need the right partner.” There’s something undoubtedly suggestive about the tone Magnus’ voice takes at the suggestion, but thankfully Alec’s turn to order comes about right at that moment and he doesn’t have time to overthink it. 

“Red eye with one cream,” he orders without hesitation before taking a step to the side to make way for Dr. Bane. 

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Magnus orders immediately after, and Alec raises an eyebrow at that. He should ignore it and continue his track record for suffering in stoic silence, but now that he’s finally allowed himself the start of an actual conversation with the other Professor he doesn’t want to stop, which is exactly what he knew would happen. Instead of speaking again, Alec compromises with himself and simply continues to look over at Magnus with a questioning expression. 

“What?” Magnus asks with feigned innocence, moving imperceptibly closer beside him to stand while they wait for their drinks. 

“You didn’t strike me as the type to drink red eyes,” Alec says. 

“Nothing good ever happened from playing it safe. What’s a Monday morning without a little adventure?” Magnus asks with a wink. 

“...wait, you mean you just copied me on a whim?” Alec huffs out a laugh. “Oh man, are you in for a surprise.” 

“It can’t be that bad,” Magnus says, though there’s a hint of doubt in his voice now that wasn’t there before as the barista calls out their orders and sets them on the counter. They each grab one, and despite his reluctance to meet Magnus’ gaze earlier Alec holds it steadily now, watching his reaction as he takes a sip of the coffee. 

...and nearly spits it back out into the cup. “You willingly drink this?” Magnus demands, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, face still scrunched together in disgust. 

“It’s an acquired taste,” Alec admits, already heading towards the door. “See you around, Dr. Bane.”

“Please, just call me Magnus,” Magnus says, knowing full well Alec isn’t going to listen this time as much as he hadn’t the last dozen times.  

Alec tries not to think too much about that little run-in the rest of the day, or the tone Magnus’ voice took that one moment, or the way he seemed to crowd Alec’s personal space. After all, that’s just the sort of personality Magnus has, right? Alec could’ve been any other acquaintance of Dr. Bane’s and he would’ve done the exact same thing. 

Nothing to see there, nothing at all. 

---

Alec is taking a quick break from grading when he remembers the app on his phone and decides to look through it for a bit to kill some time. He flips through a few photos, hesitating over one or two but finding himself slightly put-off by some of these profiles. A lot of them sound like they could’ve been written by Jace which is more than a little concerning, and when someone’s only selling point is half a dozen photos of their abs he knows it’ll be pointless to even attempt a conversation. 

He’s about to give up and close the app again when he sees it - or, more accurately, sees him. 

Magnus. 

The photo Dr. Bane has set on his profile is absolutely sinful - he’s sitting in the VIP lounge of a club and the lighting is dim but the people casually draped around him seem to almost frame him in the set-up rather than distract from him. Alec can see so much of Magnus’ chest that he might as well not be wearing a shirt - and Alec almost wishes he wasn’t. 

Suddenly abs as a selling point doesn't seem like such a horrible idea, though he knows for a fact that Magnus has so much more to offer than the impressive body layered in sheer fabric and dangling chains on the phone screen in his hands. Perhaps that’s what makes seeing this sort of photo that much more enticing to him. And that isn’t the only photo - there’s one of Magnus lecturing, one of him at the gym, and another of him sitting on the ground surrounded by at least half a dozen cats. Of course he’s perfect outside of work, too. 

Keeping the app open in the background Alec pulls up his contacts and, after a moment of consideration, clicks Simon’s name. 

“Hey, I have a theoretical question for you,” Alec starts. 

“I have a theoretical answer,” Simon counters without missing a beat. “Shoot.” 

“Say you come across a coworker on a dating app. And they’re attractive… but you’re not out at work. And also acting on a crush on a coworker is only going to end in awkward disaster… but you want to know if he’d swipe right on you, you know, just out of curiosity…” Alec rambles, letting his predicament to hang in the air. 

“Well they’re going to know you aren’t straight if they see you on there anyway, right? I mean, you wouldn’t show up for them at all unless you had your profile set to match guys, soooo… that cat’s already out of the bag whether he picks you or not.” Alec can practically hear Simon’s shrug punctuate his observation on the other end of the phone line.

“Shit. Right, well, that’s fine. It isn’t like I’m denying it or anything.” Alec may not parade the information around but he won’t hide it if it comes up. That isn’t the main issue anyway. “I don’t want him to think I like him, though.” Alec conveniently leaves out the part where he does like Magnus, he just doesn’t want Magnus to know.  “So swipe left, then.”  “But I want to know if he’d swipe right on me. And the only way to do that is to swipe right on him and wait to see if we match.” 

“...so swipe right, then? Dude, I’m not sure what you want me to tell you to do here. I don’t really have a lot of experience with those apps anyway, I’m probably not the best person to ask. Have you tried Izzy or Jace yet?” 

Alec groans, putting Simon on speaker so he can go back to looking at the app again while they talk. 

“I don’t know if I want you to talk me into it or out of it,” Alec admits. 

“Alright, look at it this way. If you swipe right he’ll never know unless he does, too. And that means he thinks you’re hot too, so there’s no harm done, just some mutual appreciation. And if he swipes left on you it isn’t like he’ll know you swiped right, no harm no foul.” 

The idea of Magnus Bane ever choosing him on a dating app - especially considering the sort of attention and responses Alec is certain that profile photo gets him - is almost laughable… but Alec wants to know if he would or not just the same. Even if it means he feels the need to avoid Magnus even more than usual at work afterward as a result. 

“Alright. I’m going for it. Thanks Si.” Alec resolutely ignores the tiny spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, something more might actually come from this, but it’s definitely there. 

“Let me know how it turns out!” Simon says before hanging up. Alec allows himself a moment to take a deep breath before swiping right and waiting to see if the ‘It’s a Match!’ screen pops up. A second or two pass. 

Nothing. Well then. 

He reminds himself that maybe he just got to it first -- maybe it isn’t that Magnus swiped left on him, but that Magnus didn’t see his profile to make a decision just yet. That, somehow, is even more terrifying than the obvious option of accepting he isn’t Magnus’ type. What if Magnus does the same thing, just to see what Alec did but not really interested in him? 

 Alec is already formulating a plan in his head to excuse this whole imaginary future scenario away by saying his siblings took his phone and used the app for him when there’s a knock at his propped-open door. 

Alec drops the phone out of his hands and onto the floor when he looks up and sees Dr. Bane. 

“Jumpy today, Alexander?” Magnus asks, eyebrow raised. 

“Sorry. Guess that coffee earlier kicked in too strong,” Alec lies, standing from his chair to bend over and grab the phone. When he stands back up he’s positive he catches Magnus’ looking at his-- no, absolutely not. Alec immediately dismisses it, clearing his throat. “Can I, uh, help you with something?” 

Magnus takes this as an invitation to step fully into the room, leaning back against the wall once he’s inside. “No. Just saw your light still on; I’m pretty sure you’ve been the last one here every night this week, I wanted to make sure everything was alright.”

“I’m good. I shouldn’t be here much longer,” Alec lies, eyes darting back to the pile of essays to grade in front of him. 

“Need some help? At the very least I could grab you some dinner so you don’t starve to death locked away in here.” Magnus makes the offer so casually but it sends Alec’s stomach into sweeping flips, finding the kindness behind the thought impossibly endearing before immediately wondering how pathetic he must look for Magnus to offer in the first place.  

“No,” Alec insists. “Really, I’ll be out of here in no time. Thanks, though.”  Magnus hesitates for a moment before sighing. “Alright, suit yourself,” Magnus says, and Alec swears he hears Magnus mutter something about playing hard to get under his breath as he turns and heads back into the hallway. 

Alec sinks down in his chair and lets out a sigh of relief, but when he turns back to his grading it takes twice as long to get through as he stops to check his phone every few minutes, just in case. 

---

“How is your back holding up these days?” Magnus asks, a strange glint in his eyes. 

“Why?” Alec frowns at the question. It’s only 9 am but he’s been grading for the last two hours straight, determined to finish the final pile of essays before lunch. Reaching for the cup on his desk he takes another sip of coffee to fend off the exhaustion he feels creeping in from the combination of the late night and early morning. 

“Well, I simply figured with the way you spend all of your free time reading books slung over that armchair so haphazardly, it probably does a number on your spine.” 

Alec nearly spits out his coffee. His profile photo. Of all the ways he imagined this moment of acknowledgement taking place this wasn’t even an option, and he doesn’t know if he’s more thankful or annoyed. On the one hand they can laugh this off and maybe, if he’s lucky, even act like it never happened. On the other hand, this is a bigger deal to Alec than it clearly is for Magnus who probably does stuff like this all the time. 

“I suppose I should ask how the small animal rescue league you run off your balcony is faring, then?” Alec retorts, recalling the photo with all the cats. Not the most impressive comeback but it’s the best he has after being caught off-guard. 

“All but one of them are strays, for the record. And they’re all doing lovely thank you for asking.” Magnus’ eyes never leave him no matter how much Alec averts his gaze and attempts to look too busy at his desk to have this conversation. When he looks back up Magnus is still in the doorway. 

A silence falls between them when Alec doesn’t reply. He actually has been busy all morning, buried under a pile of blue books to grade, which is why his phone is still in his bag, forgotten. There’s no longer any doubt that Magnus saw his profile, but whether he swiped right or not Alec has no idea, he hasn’t checked his alerts in hours. Honestly, after the night passed and he didn’t have a notification about Magnus on his app he just assumed Magnus didn’t match with him, which was fine, probably for the best. 

Or so he thought. 

“So, it seems like we’re a match?” Magnus continues conversationally, taking a slow step forward into the room before pausing, continuing only when Alec makes no move to stop him. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised...” 

Alec’s heart, which is beating far too fast for his own good, now feels like it drops straight into his stomach. Of course Magnus is surprised, to imagine Alec ever thinking he could match up with someone like him-- 

“...after all, you’ve done nothing but shut down my attempts to flirt with you for months now.” 

“What?!” Alec sputters. 

“Please, Alexander, don’t play coy. I haven’t exactly been subtle.” 

“No, you were -- I thought you were just being nice because I was new,” Alec admits, which is mostly true. That’s what he convinced himself of this whole time, after all; that Magnus’ particular brand of niceness happens to border on flirty sometimes, not that he ever means  anything by it. 

“I’m not that nice to just anybody, which is probably a side-effect of being friends with Dr. Fell for too long.” Magnus points out. “Nice would’ve ended the first two or three times you shot me down. This was shameless, almost desperate at this point, flirting.”  

Alec gapes, unable to process this information. Sure, Magnus offered to grab lunch once and a while, or drinks, or-- oh. Alec just thought those were all just extended invitations so he wouldn’t feel left out as the new guy. Somehow the idea of them potentially being dates hadn’t even crossed his mind until just now. Every time Magnus joked around with him, all the teasing he now realizes very belatedly was actually flirting, Alec dismissed entirely. He wrote off the invitations Magnus extended him as pity, but now…. 

“Wait, you said we’re a match. You swiped right on me?” Alec says with clear surprise, finally realizing the implication of Magnus’ previous statement 

“What part of ‘I’ve been flirting with you for months’ didn’t register?” 

“Pretty much all of it, clearly,” Alec says, the words tumbling out before he can think twice about them. 

Just like that Magnus is laughing, the noise filling the silence between them, easing it. “So you don’t hate me, then? Because if I’m being honest I was starting to get a bit of a complex about it. I’d think all the signs were there but the next minute you’d practically sprint in the opposite direction.” 

“Do me a favor and please don’t ever let my sister hear you say that. She doesn’t need to know I’m exactly as much of a disaster as she thinks I am,” Alec groans, considering his next words carefully. This can backfire spectacularly, whether Magnus means his end of it or not. If they end up going on a date and hating each other… or if Magnus is only doing this as a bet or something, to mess with the new guy... 

But looking up at Magnus’ expression while he waits for Alec to continue, Alec doesn’t see anything there but genuine interest and curiosity in his eyes. Alec lets out his momentarily held breath and decides to take one step forward this time without the two steps back in return. “Sorry I made you think I hated you, it’s… it’s quite the opposite, actually.” 

There it is. He doesn’t know why he’s as nervous as he is even after everything Magnus just told him, but his heart is still racing in the few beats of silence that follows. 

“You have a funny way of showing it,” Magnus points out, but there’s a small smile spreading across his face now. “So if I ask you out for drinks after work today, you’re not going to turn me down again?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Alec points out, the small smirk that tugs across his face appearing much more daring than he actually feels, but the laugh Magnus gives again makes it totally worth the fear. 

“Alexander, darling, would you like to grab a drink with me after work tonight?” Magnus asks. 

“I don’t know, I do have an awful lot of grading to get through…” Alec starts, and the look of incredulity on Magnus’ face breaks the serious expression Alec tries to hold almost immediately. “...but I think I can fit you in.” 

“Perfect, it’s a date,” Magnus gins as he shifts towards the door again. “Try not to work too hard.”

“No promises,” Alec laughs. “And uh, yeah. I’ll see you later then, Dr--” he starts, a force of habit, before catching himself. “-Magnus.” 

It’s such a slight shift but it’s undeniable, and the way Magnus practically beams at Alec finally calling him by his first name at work is contagious - Alec can’t keep the smile off his face the rest of the day. 

And later, when Magnus swings by his office after classes to see when he’d like to leave, it’s the first night in weeks Alec isn’t the last one there. As it would turn out, it’s just the first of many. 

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #shfanficnexus #HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRI! #have some super not angsty Same Professions trope for your day <3 #I hope you have the most amazing day! #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ Patreon Commentary Catchup 2020-03-29

I know I’ve been sitting on half-a-dozen asks, but I’m gonna sit on those a little longer because after I’m done catching up on ALL the commentary I’ve missed I’ll probably be a little exhausted.

First the commentary on Chapter 5: YOUR 3Y3S H4V3 B33N CLOS3D.  I skimmed this before, just so I could leave a comment about what I’d been told about the suicide feeling / Jaspers funeral when she was “eight” being way too late on the timeline.  They still haven’t made any corrections to that HS^2 page.  Hm.  Are they just feeling the general vibe and tags to help the fandom guide things?  I’m wondering if anyone came to any of them specifically with that, since Patreon commentary doesn’t seem to cut it.  (Which I might be grateful for, from another point of view, because why would they favor paid methods.)

Sketches and Commentary: Chapter 5, "YOUR 3Y3S H4V3 B33N CLOS3D"

Starting commentary on why they played with the medium by opting for a Longpage with that update.  Unsurprising and understandable~

Ooh, they included the commission/sketch instructions for the image they asked from Xam.

I don't know what we did to deserve Xamag.

Yeah few people dispute Xamag’s awesomeness.~

Much of this conversation was written before they launched HS^2′s first chapter, huh?

With the "primary" version of its original protagonist dead in a wallet,

Did... did Terezi or someone else put John’s body in his wallet after he died?  I forget.  *checks back*

(Meat 35) That’s definitely a fair question. But I have one that’s much more important for her to answer. Terezi, are you seriously just going to leave the body here? “TEREZI: HUH?” Of course not. Terezi’s a practical girl, after all. She digs the wallet out of her blood-stained pants, and captchas the corpse. She holds it close to her heart, like a secret. Like John’s stupid last words: a confession whispered for her and no one else.And then she starts walking home.

(Meat 36) Terezi’s jaw tightens. She’s not ready to hear any words that remind her of those few hours with John. Her hand goes to her pocket, where she’s keeping the wallet. She traces the contours of it with her thumb and forces a smile.

[...] Here we both are. It’s a beautiful day. You’ve got your dead boyfriend in your wallet. And we’ve already managed to strike such a nice metatextual rapport. So hear me out. [...]  I ease the throttle back a bit, just enough so that I’m not whispering directly into her ear when she slips the wallet out of her pocket. She clutches it so hard in her palm that she’s digging dents into the leather, and bites her lip.

God damnit, that was an important fucking thing for me to forget.  I hope she preserved his corpse in a better way than just “wallet”.  And why the FUCK did Dirk think it was so important to bring him???? That’s not good, is it.

Back to the commentary, going to how the Dirk crew’s conversations especially cover the meta question of why continue the story at all...

This is actually a similar question to one explored by a series that shares a lot of Homestuck's creative DNA, Steven Universe.

Oh god damnit, what timing, huh?  And then they go on about what constitutes a happy ending and what’s supposed to happen after, how work might not be done, et cetera.  Hopefully these authors take a page from how SU:F finished, because Steven Universe managed to pull it back to uplifting pretty well.

These are two dangerous women, confined together long enough to learn all of each others' weaknesses, and sharp-edged enough to exploit them.

True enough.

Dirk, unfortunately, cucks the audience from seeing the scene's "true resolution." What an asshole. I've never been madder at this guy than I am right now. I bet he didn't even provide a warranty.

Pff.

On to the next commentary:

Sketches and Commentary: Catnapped, Part Three

Catnapped is some of the most fun I’ve had while writing, because Jasprose is just so goddamn fun. Cats don’t plan, they live in the moment. She’s always existing in that moment of pushing a glass off the table.

We can all agree with that I think.

Plenty they talk about here, but I’ll just quote part of anything about characterization... 

First, I actually really appreciate getting a lot at Jane's genuine sympathy for Dirk here. There was quite a bit of mutual fondness and care between the two of them – but, at the same time, they enabled each others' worst tendencies.

Hm!

Swifer remains the closest thing to a "straight man" this story has. (Not in the sexuality way. In the comedy way.)

Yep.

There was no universe where we left this story without Jasprose saying "owo what's this". You know it, I know it.

Jesus Christ, I didn’t catch that.

God, Problem Sleuth just has the worst commuting luck. He should put some of his rug money into a permanent locksmith. Checking back in with these scenes is always a delight. It probably took PS like two hundred off-screen panels to get to this point. Miserable.

Wait, that’s right, Catnapped 28 is shown before DDD 12, but AFTER Dad is shown marching up handcuffed in Catnapped 26.  And yet in DDD 12, Dad and DD come fetch PS from out of his office, when the handcuffed thing hasn’t happened yet in DDD.  You can’t DO that, authors!  It only makes RELEASE ORDER sense, not any sort of OTHER sense?  What about when people come to catch up or read this later!  Come on, that’s sloppy.  Unless they’re going to leave PS behind to stay trapped in his office MORE, which I wouldn’t put past them.  (But, wouldn’t make sense since the bullethole from C28 is already there in DDD12.)  Andrew knew more of how to be responsible telling an out-of-time-sync story, believe it or not.

Commentary ends with a few sketches, like Jasprose doing a The Mask impression, appropriately.

Sketches and Commentary: Chapter 6, "A Conversation Regarding Relevance"

Oh, it’s Jade time.

On alt!Callie’s starting Space rant:

I wanted to impress on everyone just how vast it is, and also to remind the audience that alt!callie has them at the same mercy that Dirk does. She can force us to listen to her pontificate endlessly if she so chooses. She’s slightly less insufferable than Dirk, if only perhaps because her text isn’t orange. 

Yep, mostly.

So here she is. Jade. We find out that not only is she conscious inside her own head, she is also incredibly chatty. And not too thrilled with her current situation. I know most of the audience isn’t either, considering the fact that Jade having no agency has basically become a meme at this point. 

NEVER. AGAIN. PLZ.

As Callie told us in the beginning of the chapter, it isn’t natural for people to behave like narrative devices. Even within her own thematic framework, Callie has a habit of defaulting to behaving like a person after all. 

Even alt!Callie still became a story nerd, not just original Callie -- she just became a different, more insufferable type of story nerd.

Plenty more discussion I don’t need to touch on...  keep in mind I’m omitting large parts of this in most cases, again, to respect the paywall.

A remark on Dave and Karkat being two emotionally-constipated early-twenties Bernie Bros, which... I mean.  Fair.

She definitely does love them, and she wanted to be with them, but also...Jade has a lot of other prospects. She’s actually the one character who seems to be enjoying her time on Earth c. Hitting up interspecies raves and getting around. We just haven’t seen any of that because none of those other people she boned are main characters. 

Maybe that’s why alt!Callie was so blind and dismissive of it?  Offscreen experience being less in the Light, therefore less relevant to her, even though that’s the exact attitude she’s ostensibly at war with?

Anyway Jade’s consciousness is huge.

Yep.

It’s been a while since we’ve had any sort of serious meta talk about classpects. Mostly because there’s really no use for classpects outside of the game, unless, for instance, you go around referring to everyone as the Prince or the Witch because you are a dramatic alien in a hood. It does make sense that a Witch’s powers would be more useful than a Sylph’s to a Muse. 

Aaaand that’s all the classpect mention we’re gonna get isn’t it? ;P

(Yes I know, the author told us to dial it back.  They ARE going ahead and prepping to answer some outstanding questions, though.)

Honestly, the Jade Situation is a tough one. To be sure, she has been sacrificed to the plot again and again, something that probably began as a coincidence and then later grew into a theme. Space players are destined to be huge, cosmic forces in the universe. Big movers. [...] But usually when we hear the story of big, god-like beings, we don’t think about the personalities behind them. What was it like for god to create the universe? Was he lonely? Did he regret it? Did he wish he could live in it instead? 

And Jade WAS too powerful not to sideline, by a certain point in the plot.  And before that, maybe trapped in a bit of a character arc where she had to get over some notions to step into the action.

I actually think Jade could have been okay with this. With being A Force For The Narrative. [...] But then Callie makes it personal.

Agreed.  If alt!Callie hadn’t been so shitty about it in general, they could have worked things out more meaningfully; but the immense resolve and effort it took to dominate Caliborn in her origin timeline has tainted her perception ALMOST as bad as Dirk’s.  Much of HS^2 is probably going to involve her gradually learning how to get over that in the background, the balance she needs to take ala the Ultimate Riddle’s lesson.

(Tangentially... it was said that it would have been nearly impossible to make alt!Callie dominate, even across ALL timelines.  What if alt!Callie had her timeline’s origin explained in HS^2 by a Third Scratch at this late date with the likes of Davebot running around to do it???  That would probably make me fucking mad.)

Back to the commentary.

Admittedly these last few chapters have definitely been “girls beating the crap out of each other” heavy, and I hope that’s okay.

PFFFFF

Callie and Jade aren’t really sure who makes a decision on what is considered “just” or “heroic”. Plot twist, it’s us. We do. But also the alpha timeline does.

Hmm.

More gorgeous Xam art. Initially we were going to make it more ambiguous whether or not she actually ate the peanut butter, but we decided to have it be a decisive moment of triumph.

Really?  Well, you could have made it visually clearer that the candy dropped.  A lot of people visually missed that.  This is a consequence of the back-and-forth artist-isnt-the-author art-commissioning going on, in part... Andrew was MUCH better at conveying what he wanted to convey BETWEEN panels than this crew, like comic book panels and their composition together; you can see that when comparing Homestuck proper’s sprite animation to that of fan adventures that used sprites, for instance.  These guys are at something of a disadvantage due to their disconnect.

Commentary on the Commentary

This commentary uses "she/her" to talk about the alternate Calliope possessing Jade, while the "other" Callie (remember them?) uses they/them. This other Calliope, presumably, has a much different relationship with her gender – and her brother – than the Callie we saw discussing the subject with Roxy and John. One of my favorite things about this update (I can say that, because I'm a second person who didn't write it) was that subtle hint about how different her Caliborn must have been to allow her to predominate in the first place. I'd be really interested in fan works exploring more about her (and his) past.

Hhhhmmmmmmm.

Not sure what else to say to that, but it does make me hmmm.

Sketches and Commentary: Diamonds, Dames, and Dads, Part 1

Probably not much plot-relevant here...

Oh pff.

They had full drawings of them going in for the kiss on standby.  They couldn’t resist making them.

Real talk, I have been looking forward to writing this story the most out of any other part of HS^2. Finally I get to combine my passions. Cheesy noir bullshit and old men making eyes at each other. 

Pfffffff.  Yes.

...the next three or four pages of this writing go on to describe how sexy this is and these characters and setting are.  I can’t fault a word of any of it.

The dream team is assembled. Nothing can possibly go wrong. 

Wow, I caught up on all this commentary quick.  See you next time.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots #Homestuck Commentary #spoiler #spoilers

[cloudy-coyote]

Necessity

A/N: Welcome to chapter 1 of Necessity! This Supernatural fic is super plot twisty, I like keeping it chill in the beginning and then switching it up when you least expect it! If you love lots of drama, mystery and intense conflicts, here you go. There will def be some romance blossoming, slow build to smutty goodness, it's a good fic, I swear. 

Chapter 1: The Last Day

April 5th, 2019

"Eva!" Her mother, Eleanor hollers.

Her eyes shoot open at the sound. It usually takes her a few minutes to actually get up. Whether it's scrolling through Instagram on her phone or stretching her body out, she takes her time. The sunlight was pouring in through the curtains; there was a gentle breeze from her ceiling fan. Then she begins to smell the sizzling bacon and her legs kick into gear.

During the fall semester she despised getting up early for classes, so this semester she got only afternoon and evening classes. Still reveling in the feeling of waking up later, Eva gracefully clothes herself in a pair of sweatpants, keeping her oversized sleep shirt on. She grabs her phone, leaves her room and heads on downstairs, passing all the glowing windows. She's not typically a morning person, but waking up at 11:30 is much nicer than 7:00 AM, not to mention that spring has always been her favorite season.

Spring is jam-packed with blooming flowers, singing birds and soaring butterflies. As soon as you walk outside you're met with beautiful colors and scents of greenery. It's amazing walking weather; you usually don't have to wear coats because it's never too hot or too cold. Everything is absolutely perfect, except-

"Rain," Her father sighs, "It's going to be pouring by the time your classes end."

She enters the kitchen, the smell of breakfast overwhelming her. She takes a seat next to her Dad, Augustus, also known as Gus.

"Well I can't pick her up, I have to go visit my Mother today," Eleanor says. She hands Eva a plate, as well one to her brother Charley.

"It's fine, Mom, I can just walk."

"You're going to have to bring an umbrella with you," Charley comments.

"I know Charley, that was pretty obvious," Eva rolls her eyes, 'such a simple-minded man,' she thinks to herself. She serves herself some bacon and eggs before filling up a glass of water.

She's the youngest of three, only 18. Her oldest brother is Charley, who is 24 years old, her second oldest is brother is Oliver, she calls him Oli for short, and he's 21.

Her mother finishes serving herself as well; Gus, Charley and Eva already diving into their meals. Just as she sits down she recognizes the empty seat.

"Where's your brother?"

To this Charley snorts, "Where do you think?"

"Stayed up all night again?" Gus asks.

This was a common occurrence. And I know what you're thinking, must be a hard partier, huh? No, that's not the case. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Her brother, Oliver, has a really hard time getting sleep. They're not sure exactly what it is. Perhaps he's a light sleeper, or maybe its nightmares, maybe anxiety—could be anything. If there's one thing Eva knows for sure, it's that his sleeping habits are a popular subject of gossip in her house. They always talk about him when he's not around, complaining about how concerned they are. Sometimes he'll even be in the same room and they'll still talk about him to each other as if he's not there. She'd be lying if she said it didn't make her feel guilty.

"At least he's asleep now," Eva comments.

Gus nods. He has bright blue eyes and jet-black hair. Well, used to be jet-black, now it's more like salt and pepper. Eva didn't get his eyes, or his hair, or his height, but she got his personality. There's something about her, that all of her older cousins and Aunts and Uncles comment on. It could be their face shapes, their smiles, nobody knows what it is about the two of them that is so strikingly similar, but it's there.

Her mother, on the other hand, she has big, chocolaty doe eyes, which is exactly what Eva inherited. She is also the same height as her Mom and almost same hair color. Eleanor has a light; hazel colored hair whereas Eva's is a much darker brown. She's sweet, she's caring but she's also incredibly timid. Charley and Oliver take a lot after their mother. They can be shy, can be sweet and could do with a little more assertiveness, exactly like Eleanor. But despite all of their passiveness, they are the most welcoming, warm people on the Earth.

It's funny because the whole family looks unrelated-- like a mismatched bunch. Charley has his mother's light feathery hair, her eye color, but Gus's eye shape and height. Oliver has the jet-black hair, just like his father, but his mother's height and his mother's eyes. And while Eleanor is more on the shy, dependent side, Gus is assertive and sovereign. He has the reputation of sometimes overstepping boundaries—maybe being a little too controlling. And unfortunately, in this family, most of them just go along with it due to their passive nature. That is until Eva came along.

Eva is a little firecracker and a straight copy of her dad. She's always been over-cautious like him, very honest, very assertive. They tend to have the same opinions, but on occasion when he's overstepping, she's the one to hash it out with him. They have a strong relationship.

"How's your modern poetry class going?" Gus asks Charley.

"It's..." He pauses, "Interesting."

"That bad?" Eva asks. Charley majors in Philosophy and Poetry. These are actually his last few classes before he graduates.

He rolls his eyes, "I didn't say it was bad."

"So you like it?" His mom asks. Instead of nodding, he shakes his head. Finding his words, his hand naturally finds his chin as he plays with the light stubble.

"It's just not my style of writing," He re-words, "Kind of weird to be honest."

They all fall silent, concluding the conversation. Eva finishes her food just as fast as Charley. Being both fast eaters, they scarf their meals down and usually leave the table before everyone else.

"So, how did you sleep?" Her mother asks her. Eva looks up from her empty dish to find her Mother's warm eyes.

"It was okay, how about you?"

Her mom sighs, "I stayed up watching tv until...what, like 3 in the morning?"

"Was Oli up too?" Eva asks.

"I think so, I saw the hall light on."

Eva only hums in acknowledgment, not really finding words. It's only a moment of silence before her Mother goes on to tell her about the movie she was watching. Reflecting on what she thought was such an inspiring story. It was a film about the world, it's culture and all the things we could do better.

"Did you know that in Finland, there's no college tuition?" Eleanor exclaims, "But of course in America, every single student is in debt,"

"Including me," Eva adds.

Both of them give a little laugh at the absurdity. 'It really is ridiculous,' Eva thinks to herself. Eventually, Eleanor goes back to finishing her breakfast and Eva silently listens to her brother ramble.

Once Charley finished he had quickly brought his notebook to the table. He pulled out a little packet full of poems and began making his last touches to his assignment. Once he finishes, he slides it back into his bag and grabs his dish.

"Analyzing the poetry is pretty awful, it's nothing like Emily Dickenson," Charley says as he starts cleaning up, "But I do like it when we have discussions about them in class."

"Why's that?" Their dad asks.

Charley continues to wash his dish over the sink before stacking it in the dishwasher, "I don't think anyone else can take the poems seriously either, so it's funny. Plus, all you have to do is raise your hand, say 'I interpreted this to be very self-deprecating', and then the Professor gives you a point, so easy."

"-Sorry for interrupting," Eleanor interjects,  "I have to head out, bingo starts at 1:00. Can you wash the pans too?"

"No need to rush, you know your Mother's never ready on time anyway," Gus comments. Eleanor gives him a sarcastic dry laugh, 'always making jokes about Grandma,' Eva thinks to herself. Her Mom gives her Dad a quick peck on his cheek. She hugs Eva and hurries out the door.

Charley steadily grabs both pans, bringing them to the sink and loading them up with soap. He continues to talk with his dad. Charley muses about his Philosophy courses as usual, and Eva begins to drown them out. She picks up her phone, unlocking it. The first thing she notices is a bunch of texts from her friends she seemed to miss.

Sliding on the notifications, she reads, 'I hope she's ok'. This prompts her to scroll up; whom could they be talking about? She finally gets to the beginning,

'Did you guys hear about Amber?'

'No what happened?'

'it hasn't been 48 hours yet, but her parents think she's missing,'

'holy shit,'

'they said she didn't come home last night and nobody could get ahold of her this morning. Nobody's seen her either,'

"Oh my God," Eva whispers. Her brother and dad both pause their conversation, fixing their attention on her.

"What's wrong?" Her Dad asks.

"Amber Shirley is missing."

Her dad immediately jumps from his seat. As mentioned before, he's a very cautious person. He constantly watches the news, hearing about all the bad things that occur. It only feeds his anxieties but now-- now he has something to actually worry about.

"It's only been like, 20 hours," Eva continues, "But she's not home, nobody knows where she is,"

"Oh God," Her dad sighs, "I should call the Shirley's." He picks up the home phone to dial their number. As he talks to them, she goes back to her phone to anxiously read more texts.

'do you think it was a party?'

'nobody party's that hard on Wednesdays,'

'plus she was commuting'

'you guys I think she was doing drugs,'

'really?'

'why do you say that'

'yea did you hear that from somebody?'

'idk these past few weeks she'd been acting so weird'

'what do you mean?'

'she thought her house was haunted,'

'we all knew that, her house is a bit creepy tbh,'

'no, she legitimately was becoming paranoid. she thought something was trying to kill her,'

'like she even started skipping bio because she wasn't sleeping'

'did her parents know?'

'I think she tried to talk to them, im not sure'

'but she was like really scared you guys, she must've been on something really hard'

'shit'

'that's terrifying'

'I really hope it's not heroin,'

'I hope she's ok'

'me too' Eva sends the quick text.

Now Eva finally catches up, she's even more scared. It's very surreal to have something like a friend go missing. She's never dealt with crime in her life, so it all seemed so far away from her until now. The idea that Amber could be gone is frightening. For once in her life she was nervous to go to classes, and not because of exams.

From the moment she read that Amber was missing, an eerie shiver blew up her spine. Even after trying to hope that Amber was safe, that she was okay, praying she wasn't hurt-- that creepy feeling just won't shake off. Her mind won't stop frenzying over what could have possibly happened, what she could have done or even worse, what someone else could have done to her. The idea that someone dangerous could be walking around the streets of Willow only magnified her anxiety.

She checks the time, 12:25 pm. Her classes start soon, so she begrudgingly pushes herself up the steps to get ready.

"Eva, where are you going?" Her dad calls from the kitchen.

"To get ready for class."

"Ok, but you're not walking home tonight, not with Amber missing,"

She nods her head in agreement, "But who will pick me up?"

"Ask your friends, or take an Uber I guess," He says.

"Sounds good."

She makes her way up the stairs to her room; ridding herself of the saggy sweatpants and worn out black tee. She moves rather slowly. Her brain still in frenzy and her body seemingly rusted. It just didn't feel right today. Studying herself in the mirror, she slowly grazes a hand over her necklace. It's probably the most pretty and most precious thing she owns. It's a family 'hand me down', if you will. She got it as a baptismal gift from her Godmother and hasn't taken it off since. The dainty silver chain and tiny blue jewel can compliment almost all of her wardrobe.

She makes note of the extra windy and rainy weather today. Taking a nice pair of true denim overalls, she slides them over her legs. She finds a thick, cropped pullover that was a baby pink and dresses herself in the fleecy garment. She picks a nice pair of wooly socks, grabs her black rain boots. She twists her hair into a messy bun, before throwing on her matching black raincoat.

She sends a quick text to her friends, 'My dad is talking to the Shirley's rn. I still can't believe she's missing.'

'Same'

'My mom wants to bring them some muffins.'

'I think we should start a search party or something'

(Eva) 'That's a good idea. Also, can any of you give me a ride back home later?'

'Don't think so.'

'I can't!'

'Still don't have my license.'

'Maybe take an Uber?'

(Eva) 'Yeah, sounds like that's what I'm gonna do.'

She makes her way downstairs, seeing her Dad still on her phone and Charley at the dining room table studying. She looks to the kitchen to gratefully see Oliver groggily getting a bowl of Cheerios.

"Morning Oli," She greets while looking for an umbrella. He looks in her direction mumbling a gentle 'hello' back. She finally finds a large umbrella buried in her closet. It has a big wooden staff and a simple brown fabric. She sets it by the front door.

Oliver sits at the table watching YouTube on his IPad, while slowly but surely eating his Cheerios. It's the usual routine for him, he's either asleep when she's awake, or he's on his IPad. She grabs her glass from earlier this morning and refills it. She has a couple of minutes before she has to leave, so she decides to get extra hydrated. Walking to campus and all the way around it can be a little of a workout.

She plops down next to Oli, "So how'd you sleep?" He pauses the video, shifting his attention to her. His black hair is clearly disheveled from just being asleep, his eyes still heavy as well.

"It was fine," He shrugs. He's always been one to downplay his problems. Oliver hates being overwhelmed with everyone else's anxieties, so he tends to be vague, and always calm.

"Could've slept more?" She adds.

"Yeah," It's silent for a moment, "You know, I heard about, uh, Amber,"

Eva forces out a breath, her mind circling back to the fearful subject. It's as if all of a sudden her mouth is dry as a desert. She reaches for her water.

She doesn't really want to talk about Amber unless it's about her being found. She can't stand the nerve-wracking sensation of thinking about her—of where she is, of how bad it is, or if she's even still alive. Her mind just seems to go straight to that place, the extreme yet not so crazy idea that Amber could be in a life or death situation. Not to mention, all that they can do is rely on the police at this point. Talking about her—trying to unearth where she is just from guessing does nothing, like literally—nothing. It's helpless, she... Amber, could even be helpless. They're just frozen in a waiting period, can't do anything about it.

"It's just so scary," Is all she manages to say. She glances at her phone, at 12:43 pm.

"Oh, I need to head out," She gulps down the last of her water. Standing up from her seat, she gives Oli an awkward half-smile. Not really being able to conjure up enough energy to fully smile, or keep a conversation going. Throwing her backpack over her shoulder, she picks up the umbrella and as she's walking towards the door she sees a big, cardboard box just a few feet behind it.

"What's this box for?" Eva asks. She hears some shuffling from the dining room before Charley pops his head in the hallway to see.

"Oh, Dad's going to get the old family videos restored," He responds.

"Nice," Eva smiles at the thought. They definitely have some keepers in there, let me tell you. She recalls once when Oli had brought over a cute girl-- which was entirely rare due to his shyness. But of course, the night he brings her over, Eva, 12 at the time, decided to put on some of the old tapes.  It plays, everyone excited to see what it is-- low and behold, a video from when Oli was 4 and was running around butt-naked with Pokemon cards. 'God', she cringes at the memory, she felt so bad about embarrassing him.

She unlocks the front door, stepping out before calling out, "Bye, love you guys,"

Eva hears a faint murmur of 'bye' and 'love you too' from the men of the house before the loud shut of the door. No longer in the warmth of her home; no longer with the sounds of Charley's pencil writing, Oli's slow Cheerio chewing, or Gus's sympathetic worries being spoken to the phone. She can hear the clear sound of birds chirping, a light patter of rain, and the barely audible sound of the wind in the trees.

She plugs her earbuds into her phone, unfolds her umbrella and begins to walk. The old peaceful streets of Willow generating natural, calm energy. She tries to focus on the music, the scenery, not daring to let her mind drift to the blood-curtling subject of Amber.

She commutes to Bartley University. The small neighborhood she and her family reside in is called Willow, and she's lived there her entire life. She only has to walk a few blocks before she enters the campus grounds. The street she lives on is interesting because while it's very close to a college, for some reason only half of the occupants are students. The other half of the houses are elderly people, mostly Italian in fact. But because of that, she has such friendly neighbors. Her parents got to be close enough with some that they'd the old Italian couples would bring them homemade wine and Pizelles.  

One unfortunate thing she's learned with living in Willow is that most of the sidewalks have uneven foundations. You want to be careful not to drag your feet cause you can very easily trip...which she does all the time. 'Always been clumsy though,' She thinks to herself.

Once she reaches Ryter Street, she turns right into the other many traveling students. And before she knows it, she's passing by the big Lion shaped fountain and enters the History building. As she makes her way down the busy halls, she notices her friend Nora holding a thick stack of papers. And when she looks behind her, she sees a trail of 'Missing: Amber Shirley' posters pinned up on the walls. Right beneath the bold red letters, she sees the picture; Amber's face, plastered all around campus, but the real Amber not anywhere in sight.

Boy, today is going to be tough.

~~

"Don't forget to send me your articles, they need to be peer-reviewed, full text, and strictly correlational!" The Professor calls out. Everyone had begun packing up their items, desperate to get out of here as fast as possible. From all the noise, his voice began to get drowned out. All the kids began to file out of the lecture, and before Eva knew it, she was one of the last few kids left. Normally she's right with the crowd, antsy to get home. Especially since her mother makes the warmest, yummiest food. Her friends tend to get jealous of it actually, since they live in dorms and basically only eat ramen and pizza.

She slowly stands up from her seat. Her mouth feels exceptionally dry again, which is ironic considering how heavily it's pouring outside. She can even hear the bash of thunder from inside the building. Checking her IPhone, 6:30 pm. A few months into this semester, and she's regretting putting all four classes back to back. Ancient Greek History is one hour, Bio 101 is a two-hour long lecture, then she has a Bio Lab, then finally her Psych 101 is only an hour and a half—but still, she's beat.

She opens the Uber app and orders a car. As she waits to see the approximate arrival time, she sits back down into her chair. A constant nervous habit of hers, she starts toying with the little gem on her neck, twisting it between her fingers, sometimes even spinning the chain around her finger.

Approximate Arrival: 6:45 pm.

Right as she's about to head out to the common area, she gets a text from her dad.

'The Police are finally conducting an investigation. They want to talk to you and your friends. What time will you be home?'

(Eva) 'Probably 7:00 pm.

'Okay. Love you. Be safe.'

She sends a quick 'love you too' text back before standing up. She zips up her coat, nice and snug. As she makes it into the halls, she can't help but stare at the floor. Not having the guts to look at Amber's face. It's weird, not being able to control what she's feeling. This new experience is entirely daunting. It's such an unfamiliar emotion to have someone gone from your life that isn't dead yet, nor found yet, just inconclusive of her existence.

She enters the main conversational area, to which she finds is vacant. Usually, it's filled with students due to its comfortable seating arrangements and its beautiful architecture. But here she sees only two students and one janitor. The emptiness she finds rather unsettling, so she plops down on a couch and immediately opens Instagram. As she scrolls through her feed she jumps at the occasional blast of thunder, followed by heavy pounding rain.

As the clock rounds 6:45, she gets a message from her Uber driver:

'Pulled in behind the apartments on 5th'

'I guess the rainfall was causing a lot of flooding down here', she thinks to herself, what other reason would he park over there? The apartments aren't that far, just a block or so. She just prays she doesn't have to walk through any puddles that are deeper than her boots. Extending her umbrella, she pushes open the heavy brass doors and is met with the chaotic weather. Because it's coming around 7:00 pm, the sky is getting pretty dark. She makes her way towards 5th, but once she gets to the building, she can't find a car in sight. There's a couple of parked cars, the occasional slow approaching vehicle, but she can't seem to find this 'grey sedan car'. She messages her driver about 5 times, but her phone says that her messages couldn't be delivered. She tries to call him, but it won't even ring.

That's when the panic kicks in. And oh boy, is it hitting her hard. With her only source of light being the street lamps and her phone screen, everything around her becomes eerie, vague. She's clicking the call button to her Dad, her Mom, her brothers, her friends, but the bars in the corner of her phone are completely empty. Through all the dense rain crashing from the night's sky, she could barely hear a thing. Her breath was becoming heavier as the thunder became deafening, the lack of light and lack of any safety sending her into pure, unadulterated terror. Her hands were shaking, her lips were freezing and the tips of her toes were going numb—she couldn't breathe a full breath and every time her heart beat faster- her lungs gave out more, her mouth was painfully dry and her eyes felt like they were being pried open to stare into the darkness, and the sky unforgivingly beat down upon her and the earth around her.  Suddenly she hears a sharp clink. Her necklace drops to the wet, flooded ground, the moment she frantically bends down to grab it, her fingers barely graze the silver chain before she hears thundering footsteps spiriting toward her.

Next, her body feels as if it's being ripped to pieces, there were scratches; deep-cut, gushing wounds being gouged into her flesh, her skin was white-hot and her nerves were screaming, a loud, piercing pain pulsing into her head, before she could even feel the claws rip through her body, she saw gallons of blood paint the rainwater red, she fell to the concrete, doing the only thing she could instinctively do—scream, a blood-curdling scream, as loud as she can. The last image she sees is a loose paper, destroyed by the rushing water, her peripheral begins to go black, her ears ringing with high-pitched bells, she grasps the paper, her hand crunching directly over Amber's smearing face.

And she softly closes her shuddering eyes, the pain clogging up her body was too much to bear, and she begins to cry--hot tears disappearing into the red-stained rushing water, and she bids goodbye to what she thinks is her last day.

~~

Hey, this is my first post ya’ll, tell me what you think? xoxox I NEED to know if this is intriguing?? Should I post the next few parts? Lemme know

#dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #eventualsmut #ofc #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester smut #sam winchester smut #mystery #writing #fanfiction #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #story #dean winchester dirty imagine #sam winchester dirty imagine

[gojayson-blog1]

Autobiograpy by Jayson R. Gomez

              I am Jayson R. Gomez , I was born October 13,1999 at Brgy of Mulanay, Quezon Province . We are two siblings in the family . I am the first child . My father’s name Valentine Gomez he’s from Mulanay quezon province and my mother’s name is  Editha Rejano  and she’s from Mulanay,Quezon province . I took my elementary education at Teodoro Yangco Elementary school located at Dandan St.,Tondo,Manila and highschool at Dr.Juan G. Nolasco Highschool located at Tioco St.,Tondo,Manila.  When I was 3 years old we moved to Tondo,Manila to lived permanently .

           During weekends, we usually spend our time with bonding or hangout with family and friends . During my high school days I spend my free time playing basketball or playing online games with my friend outside of school . I was a sacristan in school who loved and serve to God everyday . Our school was only a public .

          My hobbies are drawing , playing basketball , listening any kinds of music , watching movies and playing billiards . I spend my free time with my friends . when I was a kid I had a lot of dreams that one day I become a pilot or become a captain of the ship but I have a financial problem that’s why I took business administration for my college education .

         There a lot of things I like to do , I like to fun  with my friends and playing computer online games , I like painting Im essentially interested in creating works, and theres a lot of things I don’t like to is like eating fish that I don’t know what is, I also don’t like people who smoke on front and side of because I don’t like the smell and I have a headache when I smell the smoke of cigarretes .

         And right now I shared many some of my personality and tell you some more , my personality is im friendly to anyonelse , and im a joker to class because im also funny i also had a lot of jokes , I love singing also and jamming with my friends , some of my badpoints im quite forgetful and sometimes I had a bad mood well every personality

                  We lived in manila because my grandfather’s  had a poperty in tondo , we use to lived here because its would be a great experience to work and lived in manila. Its easy to find job here because manila is land of many opportunities theres a lot of companies and the education is good as well , mostly that suit to your courses . The difference here and province that’s its hard to commute here because of a heavy traffic happens every day and every night and the bad effect of pollution is very bad in health so its hard to breath . because of traffic mostly ive been late to go to school

              Theres a lot of obstacle in life happen some of them I still have , like time management . Im quite forgetful sometimes I memorized words and after a minute I forgot the words that I memorized . And also the biggest obstacle happen in my life is lack of focus , I don’t know why but happens to me sometime but its okay because the greater the obstacle the more glory overcoming it .

            For a long time its seemed to me that life was about to begin in real life . But there was always some obstacle in the way . something to be gotten through first. Come unfinished business, time still to be served ,a debt to be paid at last it downed on me that these obstacles were my life

           Being a student is not easy, being a student is all about studies , school life requires hardwork and discipline but it can also be fun being devoted student . I have developed a routine of getting up early in the morning . The life of me being a student is a combination of joy and challenges because of the requirements  in school that need to be fulfilled , but it is also a place where things can be learned

          I am a good person as the youngest child and honest . my family raised me to be a kind, honest and have fear with god . my mother told me that never give up in my dreams and fulfilled my ambition that’s what give me strength that they trusted me and giving my guts to continue exploring things . when I was on high school I thought its easy to live but many problems come so do I do my best to become successful in the future to give my parents give all the sacrifices they gave to me .

         My biggest achievements in life is , when I walk with my mother  to stage and accept my diploma in front of many people in graduation day . That day is so special and very memorable to me , the day that im very proud of myself , because the achievement that achieve specially being an honored student is very worth it . my parents are very proud of me the joy in their face is joy to me . the achievements , successes or accomplishments we gain in school  life years . Those achievements in middle, highschool or college student life that include my personal academic achievements . it may be the greatest the best or the bad  but I never forget .

        My mother is the best mother of all time she is a cheerful,kind,and beautiful. She is never afraid to speak her mind and can be very convincing when she want to . She sometimes upset a bit too easily , but she is just as quick  to forgive and forget. I love my mom for all that she is – even when she’s angry. For all that she has done for me and for all that she’s taught me . My mom has been through a lot throughout the years, but she always kept fighting.She taught me to never lose hope even in the direst of moments, and she showed me how to look for happiness in the small things. She’s been trying to teach me to be more organized as well, but hasn’t succeeded yet. I love her for that too.

       My father is quiet, patient and calm, and he has an adorable hit-and-miss sense of humour. I may not always find his jokes that funny, but I love him for trying. Dad almost never gets angry and he is always polite, friendly and nice to everyone. He is not the one to verbalize emotions, but he always shows his feelings through sweet gestures and little surprizes. He is the pacifist in our family and never goes against mom’s wishes, but he runs a large company witha firm hand. I love my father for all these characteristics and for all he’s sacrificed to build a better life for us. He’s worked day and night to ensure we afford good education and have a rich, wonderful childhood, and he has passed up many great opportunities for the benefit of our family. I love dad because he’s taught me that you cannot have it all in life, but with hard work and dedication, you can have what matters most to you.

            Mom and dad may be very different people, but they complement each other perfectly. Together, they formed a super-team that was always there – and, thankfully, still is – to provide comfort, nurturing, and support and help me grow as a person. Their complementary personalities bring balance in our family, and each of them steps in whenever they are needed the most. Together, they taught me to believe in myself and have turned me into a fighter. Their care and dedication towards me and each other has served as an example of what healthy relationships should be like, and I love and admire them for that.

         I love my parents because they are my parents, my good friends, my heroes, my role models, my safe haven, my pillars of strength.I am who I am today thanks to them, and I know that their support and affection will play an essential role in what I will become in the future.All I can hope is that, when I have children of my own, I will be half as good a parent as they were to me.

         Life is  a journey filled with lessons, hardships, heartaches, celebrations and special moments that will ultimately lead us to our destination, our purpose in life. The road will not always be smooth in fact, throughout our travels, we will encounter many challenges. Some of these challenges will test our courage, strengths, weaknesses, and faith. Along the way, we may stumble upon obstacles that will come between the paths that we are destined to take. In order to follow the right path, we must overcome these obstacles. Sometimes these obstacles are really blessings in disguise, only we don't realize that at the time. Along our journey we will be confronted with a lot of obstacles and hurdles that we will have to jump over and pass.  What we go through our life and how we react to life situations determines the outcomes of how the rest of our life will be. At times in our life things won't go how we want it to go so we have two choice to either accept the fact that things didn't go the way we want it to go and let it pass or we can learn the lessons being taught by our mistakes, we should just accept the fact that life is not permanent but temporary and we just have to live one day at a time.  we should realize that time wait on no man, it does not owe us.

        As the only son in the family I was very hardworking person , That is shown through my determination and harkwork  because id I didn’t believe myself I wouldn’t try as hard . I was taught to be caring anf thoughtful . I wasn’t taught anything elsa from anyone other than not to trust people .

     I worked hard to get to this point of my life and working even harder to get to the successful and graduate part of my life.

[paralleljulieverse]

“Ding Dong the Bells are Gonna Chime...!”

This Day in Julie-history: Julie Andrews weds first husband, Tony Walton sixty years ago on 10 May 1959.

When Julie Andrews and longtime beau, Tony Walton finally decided to marry in the English spring of 1959, they had hoped to keep the wedding relatively low-key. Rather than plump for a big city venue, the couple chose to hold the ceremony at the small parish church of St. Mary’s Oatlands in Weybridge, close to their collective family home of Walton-on-Thames in Surrey. In her memoirs, Julie recalls that, even though she and Tony had both grown up in the very next village, she “had to prove residency in the parish of Oatlands” in order to get married at the picturesque mid-Victorian church (Andrews: 258). So for six weeks prior to the wedding, the star moved into the nearby Oatlands Park Hotel, making the daily commute into London for ongoing performances of My Fair Lady.

However, as profiled in our last post, the couple’s courtship had been a focus of such intense media attention that there was little serious hope they’d be able to keep the wedding out of the public eye.  And, lo, come the big day, a sunny and unusually warm spring Sunday, a phalanx of over sixty reporters, press photographers and newsreel cameramen was on hand to cover the event. What’s more, a huge crowd of fans and public well-wishers –– ranging in estimates from two to three thousand––congregated around the church and surrounding lanes to get a glimpse of the star bride. It was a carnival-like atmosphere complete with “ice cream men and even a winkle stall” (Rolls: 2). “The pretty tree-shaded churchyard looked like Hampstead Heath on a Bank Holiday Monday,” noted one press report, “as fathers, mothers and children struggled on the lawns littered with ice lolly-sticks and sweet papers” (Marlborough and Court: 5). 

More than two miles of cars clogged the roads leading up to the church, so not surprisingly the bridal party was a little late in arriving, pulling up to the front of the church ten minutes behind schedule. As Julie emerged from the bridal car, led by father Ted Wells, the crowds surged forward and news crews rushed to get shots. Some women reportedly fainted in the crush and “[t]eams of police had their hands full making way for Julie” (Rolls: 2). “This crowd makes me more nervous than playing Eliza on the first night,” exclaimed the star (ibid.). Ever the consummate professional, Julie took it in stride with reporters marvelling that “throughout the Hollywood-style hysteria, Miss Andrews remained calm, cool and apparently unperturbed” (Marlborough and Court: 5). 

She also looked every inch the resplendent star bride in a stunning seventy-yard rose-budded white organza gown that had been designed specially for her by husband-to-be Tony Walton. Made from the designs by Julie’s longtime friend, theatrical costumier Madame de Rachelle, who had provided several earlier bespoke dresses for the star, the bridal gown had an estimated cost of £350, a substantial amount for the time. Rachelle also helped dress Julie the morning of the wedding, painstakingly fastening all 72 buttons at the rear of the gown with a small buttonhook (Hickey: 5).

Once inside the church, the wedding party was able to relax a little during the 35 minute service. As the officiating vicar quipped, “Forget your friends inside the church and the crowds outside. There’s nothing high-falutin’ about a marriage service” (Hickey: 1).* The 300-strong guest list was weighted heavily with local friends and family but there were a few famous faces dotted among the pews, mostly theatre folk who had been important to Julie during her career. Stanley Holloway, Robert Coote, and Noel Harrison, son of Rex, were on hand to represent the My Fair Lady crew. Rex was unable to attend as he was abroad visiting his ailing wife Kay Kendall in Paris. Sandy Wilson and Vida Hope flew The Boy Friend flag and others were there from Julie’s early radio and pantomime years such as Hattie Jacques and Vic Oliver. Further celebrity friends included Maggie Smith, Svetlana Beriosova, Anne Rogers and the official wedding photographer was none other than Tony Armstrong-Jones (Cottrell: 118). 

Following the ceremony, the bridal party and guests made their way to the reception at the Mitre Hotel in Kingston-on-Thames directly opposite historic Hampton Court. Thousands more lined the roads to cheer them on and some even hired rowboats in an effort to get a closer peek at proceedings from the riverfront (Rolls: 2). Inside, the three hundred invited guests were treated to a lavish champagne supper with dance music provided by Johnnie Howard and his Orchestra who played inevitable selections from My Fair Lady but also from Sandy Wilson’s Valmouth with which Tony had been successfully associated (“Denmark Street”: 7). Maintaining the dual theatrical theme, the three tiered wedding cake was topped with two miniature figures, one in Eliza Dolittle flower girl costume and the other in an artist’s smock (Cottrell: 121).

After it was all over, the newlyweds were driven straight to London airport to catch a late night flight to Los Angeles. It was billed as a two-week “honeymoon”, though it was in fact more of a working holiday with Julie taping a TV special with Jack Benny and Tony working on designs for a new musical (Cottrell: 122). Julie recalls that she and Tony slept most of the long flight to California, both exhausted from their big day. As the flight prepared to land, Julie writes that as she slowly roused, she saw Tony smiling at her in the next seat:

“’Help!’ I said to him in a very small voice. He nodded, knowing what I meant. The festivities were over; we were married and heading into the unknown” (Andrews: 262)

Notes:

* In her memoirs, Julie gives the name of the officiating vicar at the wedding as Rev. Keeping, “a charming man, kind and gentle in our meetings with him” (Andrews: 259). Press reports from the time, however, list him as Rev. John McKitterick (Hickey: 1; “Marriages”: 12; Rolls: 2). Far be it from us to suggest that she-who-is-practically-perfect-in-every-way got it wrong, which is why, in one of the photos accompanying our previous post, we followed Dame Julie’s lead and identified the kindly vicar as Rev. Keeping.

Sources:

“2000 at Julie Andrews’s Wedding.” Belfast Telegraph. 11 May 1959: 8.

Andrews, Julie. Home: A Memoir of My Early Years. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2008.

Cottrell, John. Julie Andrews: The Story of a Star. London: Arthur Barker, 1968.

“Denmark Street Doodles.” The Stage. 21 May 1959: 7.

Hickey, William. “Phew! What a Scramble for the Bride and the Motorist: My Fair Lady Marries Boy Next Door.” Daily Express. 11 May 1959: 1, 5.

Marlborough, Douglas and Court, Monty. “PictureMail Goes to the Stage Wedding of the Year: Shouting Women Delay Julie.” Daily Mail. 11 May 1959: 5.

“Marriages: Mr. T. Walton and Miss J. Andrews.” The Times. 11 May 1959: 12.

Nathan, David. “C-r-a-w-l-i-n-g Home But What a Loverly Day it was for a Wedding.” Daily Herald. 11 May 1959: 1, 3.

Rolls, John. “Cor! Wot a turn ant for Eliza...” Daily Mirror. 11 May 1959: 2.

Photographs by Tony Armstrong-Jones, Ron Burton, Kenneth Denyer, and Terry Fincher.

© 2019 Brett Farmer All Rights Reserved

#julie andrews #tony walton #wedding #1959 #st mary's church #oatlands #weybridge #My Fair Lady #united kingdom #england #celebrity #stars

[tmiquotepage]

I REALLY Need Advice

(LONG post, but I appreciate any feedback you guys can offer me here!)

I currently work as a babysitter for three wonderful children for the summer. They are 7, 10, and 13. I used to watch them before school during the school year, and I watched them for Spring Break as well. The parents got a divorce not long after I started working for them, and so the kids travel back and forth between two apartments five minutes apart. That's the gist of the background.

Now, normally, my fee for babysitting, especially for 3 kids, is $10/hr. The hours I agreed to at the beginning of the summer were 6 am until 3 pm. (I also live 30 minutes away, but my hour of commuting and my gas were never on the table for reimbursement.) Well, the mom asked me on Spring Break if, since I would be watching the kids for 8 weeks, we could do $300 a week, as $450 would get "quite expensive after 8 weeks" (like, yeah. Individualized care for kids is expensive. If you want cheaper, put em in a camp or daycare. Jesus.). I got her to raise that amount to $350, because $300 for 45 hours a week is highway robbery and less than minimum wage. I wouldn’t be able to afford my car and the gas to move this summer. Okay. That was settled.

Summer time rolls around and, at the end of the school year, the mom gets a new boyfriend, who immediately moves in with her. We'll talk about this dude later, because WHEW. Anyway, despite the fact that this dude is constantly hungover and/or day drinking and/or sleeping, the mom decides he is an adequate babysitter for the kids a few days a week. So, my schedule becomes completely confusing (as in, the mom will literally wait until 10 pm the night before to tell me whether or not she needs me the next day, whether she wants me to come in late, etc.). Keep in mind, even though we said "$350 a week," I am really getting paid $70/day. Which is the same thing. Unless you get told at last minute that you aren't needed for the three days of the week the mom has the kids with her boyfriend, in which case, it's only $140. So, I am already having issues with how much I am getting paid BEFORE I get into the shit show that is the family dynamic I have to work with.

Now, let's talk about the family. I'll obviously give codenames, not real names, because I'm not a monster. We'll start with the parents, Popeye (Dad) and Diva (Mom).

Popeye is a good dad. Works hard, doesn't make a ton of money, but always spends what he has on his kids. His apartment has more kids toys than signs of being a bachelor pad. He works hard, hasn't seen anyone since the divorce. His primary focus has ALWAYS been his kids. He cooks dinner for them almost every night (eating out is MAD rare. He's a really good cook.) He is ex-Navy, so he can be a bit strict. He doesn't accept mouthing off or being rude, but he also isn't mean. I have never seen him yell at his children or get angry. He is completely in control of his emotions around them. He's not a huge hardass about censoring his kids either. He'll let them listen to explicit rap music, play war video games with the kids. He's careful, but not overprotective. He is a balanced, comfortable, imperfect but loving parent

And then there's Diva™️. Diva is an Australian transplant who has a master's degree in the art of giving facials. She is all about pristine living, Michael Kors jackets, and acting way more rich and perfect than she is (though she has a LOT more money than Popeye). Acts like she is God's gift to all mankind. She has a boyfriend, who we will call JT, that she puts above all else - including her 3 children. Dinner at her house is almost always take out because, as her 10 year old tells me, she knows how to cook, but badly, and she's just too lazy to do it. She runs her own business, is constantly looking for groupons for the kids to use. Or rather, looks for cheap things "kids their age" would like. I am convinced she knows nothing about her children's likes and dislikes. Their rooms are her house are sterile and clean and don't have much feeling. Whenever things are out of place, she makes them clean it up and chastises them because "they are old enough to know better." She acts the part of the nurturing, caring, all-natural mother, but her eyes and words are always cool and sharp as a blade. She, the small woman I could probably break like a toothpick, scares me more than the buff retired navy father or the ex-con she has living with her and her children. I get the feeling, from the way the kids talk about her, that they have the same fears as I do.

As a tack on the end of the adult descriptions, allow me to tell you the bit I know about JT, the mom's boyfriend. He is significantly younger than her, halfway between the ages of her and her 13 year old daughter. He is a hot head. No job. Sleeps most of the day. Often leave the apartment reeking of booze. Often hungover. Has been in jail before, though I am unsure as to what he was arrested for. From what the kids said, I believe it was some sort of assault, burglary, or armed robbery. He occasionally cooks the meals at the house, which means the kids are at least getting a little bit of non-fast-food when they stay there (or, as the mom puts it, when they “visit.” They apparently don't “live” there. They visit, like you might visit a grandparent.). He has a daughter that is 10 years old, who also lives with him at Diva's house when she isn't with her mom. JT is confrontational with Diva's 10 year old boy, which I'll talk about later. I never feel comfortable when he is around, because he seems misogynistic (he called his daughter a ho for wearing yoga pants out to play) and always looks like he's ready to start a fight. Even though he and the mom are just dating, he already acts like a stepdad to Diva's kid, and he is NOT the good kind. When the kids do something he doesn't like, he will call Diva and tell her to chastise and punish the children. Occasionally, he even gives them punishments like grounding them for three weeks, even though he has ZERO authority to do so. Diva always takes his side in arguments.

On to the kids. Diva and Popeye have three: Uni (13), Pathfinder (10), and Sharknado (7). JT has one daughter, Mellie (10).

Uni is the most mature of the kids. She is a very talented artist who has been dealing really well with the divorce, as she surrounds herself with friends, a positive attitude, and creative outlets, like skateboarding and drawing. She cooks for herself often, and easily adapts to whichever situation she is in. It rarely ever feels like a chore to watch her when we go somewhere. She helps with the boys when I am swamped, occasionally, and knows how to calm the youngest's tantrums. The only real issue I have with her is when she and the middle child get in arguments and she tried to mother him and chastise him. It doesn't go well.

Next up, we have Pathfinder. Pathfinder is a 10 year old boy, the middle child. He plays video games very well, and has a soft heart which he will show when you prove he can trust you. He is, by far, the best dancer and beat spitter in the whole family, and he is proud of the fact. Pathfinder has a few behavioral issues where he will lie, and push boundaries every once in a while. He gets heated when playing video games, and often plays way too roughly and/or doesn't share with his little brother. Pathfinder, however, I understand more than I think I used to. He is a middle child with a sick younger brother and an older sister who wants nothing to do with him. He gets bullied at school and doesn’t make friends easily. He is starting to show early signs of major depression. Perhaps most importantly, Pathfinder is not taking the divorce well. More specifically, he clashes like hell with Diva's boyfriend. JT often picks fights with him and gets in his face. JT constantly feels the need to assert authority over Pathfinder and intimidate him. Pathfinder has shared with me that he never feels comfortable staying with JT. He begs me to take him to his dad's, to get him out of the apartment whenever possible. A few weeks ago, he stood up for himself to the boyfriend. JT gog in his face and yelled at him, then grounded him off all electronics (which, let's be honest, was because he wanted to play Pathfinder's Xbox at Diva's apartment without Pathfinder telling him no, because he's the one that got it for his birthday). When Pathfinder told his dad that he didn't want to go to his mom's anymore, the mother called the kid while we were at the store getting supplies for a craft project to tell him he was grounded for longer and that she was now going to shave his hair that he's been growing out for two years because he isn't respecting her boyfriend. She told me he wasn't allowed to even do our craft or watch TV. He could “sit on the couch and twiddle his thumbs" all day. (I eventually said fuck it and let him do whatever he wanted because we were at Popeye's place, and I could see that this kid was positively distraught.) He is STILL grounded, 3 weeks later. Yesterday, JT came out of his bedroom while the kids were talking, got in Pathfinder's face and started calling him gay because his shorts were sagging a bit. I took Pathfinder to Popeye's because he was shaken at the altercation, and told his mom what happened. Her ONLY response was “[Pathfinder]’s main problem is that he can't take direction or obey adults, and he needs to work on that.” What's worse about this situation is this kid has since told me (since he knows I am gay and proud and accepting) that he feels like he might be bisexual. He doesn't feel like he’d be safe if his mom and JT found out he is interested in a boy in his class. Pathfinder has openly stated that he hates his life, dreads staying at his mom's place, feels completely alone, thinks no one loves him. He barely calls her “mom" anymore. He has said that, if she goes through with shaving his head, he will never call her “mom” again, and will basically disown her as his mother. Keep in mind with all this shit that this child is 10. Ten years old and already a god damned nearly suicide risk, judging by his words and behavior lately. I had a meltdown yesterday when I realized this much because, unless this kid get serious help, he could very easily be just another name on the news in the coming years, and that breaks my heart.

Finally, we have the youngest child of Popeye and Diva, Sharknado. Sharknado is seven. Sharknado is a total trainwreck in the behavioral department. This kid has an adrenal insufficiency that means he is reliant on a steroid the way a diabetic is reliant on insulin. He is a bit more prone to disease than other kids. As a result, the mother babies the ever-loving shit out of him. She lets him get away with absolutely everything, and blames Pathfinder if they are ever in an argument. Tells Pathfinder he has to be gentle with his little brother. As a result of this parenting, Sharknado is a MAJOR tantrum thrower, even at age seven. If we are not playing the game he wants to play, the screaming and stomping starts. If he is losing, the screaming and stomping starts. If we are not actively paying attention to him, he will scream and make a spectacle of himself. Where the mother loves seeing that Pathfinder has an issue taking direction from adults, she is blind to the fact that her youngest is exponentially worse. When we go to the store, he runs off. When we go out to do something, he is instantly bored. When I tell him not to touch things in the store, he thinks it is funny to grab it an run away from me. If he is in any way unhappy, he will drop onto the floor and start screaming. Even in public (bowling alley, the zoo). Rules just do not apply to him, and he is positively dumbfounded when you try to correct this behavior through punishment (like taking away a toy, or banning video games for the day). We played the quiet game one day where all winner would get a dollar when we got back (because I had a headache and it was an hour drive and they just kept arguing). He talked the entire ride home, and the others didn't. They got a dollar each, he didn't. He pitched the biggest fit, pounding on the floor screaming, hiding under the bed, saying he wished he was dead because I was being so mean to him. He is always yelling about “fairness" when you tell him “no.” I don't think he actually knows what the word means. Sharknado is a nightmare who never listens and screams his head off on a daily basis, louder when I tell him to stop. And yet the mom has never threatened to chop his locks off. He is her perfect angel.

Lastly, I'll introduce you to Mellie, JT's daughter. She is 10. She is kind and generally respectful, which I assume comes from her mother's side. She is a daddy's girl, however, and so takes on her father's qualities when it comes to his treatment of Diva's kids. She's best friends with Uni, which is great, because Uni needed a girl friend to hang out with during the summer. She let’s Sharknado win in games and babies him. And, of course, she constantly belittles and picks fights with Pathfinder. This week was the first week I was babysitting her as well, so I don’t know much more than that.

So here's my main problem (yeah, all the above was essentially preface. That's the stuff I am USED to putting up with for barely minimum wage). This week, I watched the kids at Popeye's apartment Monday and Friday, with the rest of the days at Diva's. JT was at Diva's, but he is unable to travel, I guess, and two of the kids had dentist appointments two of the days. So, I went. At Diva's request, I came in later at 10 am on Tuesday and Wednesday, then 7:30 am in Thursday. On Tuesday, the kids were having a pillow fight in the apartment at, like, 1 pm, which apparently woke JT up, so he came lumbering out of the bedroom, snatched up the Xbox controller Pathfinder was using to find a YouTube video, and yelled at everyone – Mellie included – to get dressed and go play outside. I was then (without ever being asked) babysitting a fourth child outside with my three. We ended up going to the pool all three days, too, by the way. Three days with 4 kids in a pool. I stayed an hour late the first day, and an hour and a half late yesterday, too, because I came in late. I drove the kids to their appointments, and also made 4 different trips to and from Popeye's apartment to retrieve things for the children, and I drove the girls around to gather ingredients for their bake sale. Keep in kind, it was nearly 50 miles just with the kids in my car (not counting my commute or anything) that I was not getting reimbursed for. I also went and spent $60 on pool toys for the kids (including Mellie), because I love them and want them to have a great time. I spent personal money, knowing I wouldn't get reimbursed. But here's the kicker. When I contacted Diva to ask about adjusted payment to include the fourth child, she just said (I swear I could literally hear venom dripping from her teeth) “of course I won't short you for those days, even though you came in late. You will get the full $350 we agreed on.” Basically, even though she is already paying me peanuts, she assumes the fourth child is covered by the extra hours in the day I didn't come in. As if I shouldn't be getting paid at least $70/day, regardless of what hours I work, because even that is barely acceptable for the job I do. I should also mention that she and the dad split the childcare costs. So, if she really is saying the rest of that $350 completely covers the cost of a fourth kid, that means Popeye is shelling out childcare costs for his ex-wife's boyfriend's daughter.

So that's my situation right now. I just want advice, you guys. Should I stay, leave, ask for more per week? I mean, the thing is, I know the dad will pay more if I ask, but he's already spread pretty thin with the income. Diva is the one who always asks me to cart the kids places and has me watching extra kids and do extra stuff like crafts with them, and she’s the one who makes so much money, but she's the one who is being stingy and not giving me what I deserve. It bugs me. I just need advice on future steps, guys. I love these kids, and I don't want to just leave and have them think it was something they did wrong, but I am at the end of my mental rope. What do I do here?

#advice #advice needed #babysitting #childcare #child abuse #divorced parents #halp

[hanscom]

Reddie #176! And can I be added to your permatag list if you have one?

176. “I’m waiting” from this prompt list.

[I don’t actually have a permatag list! But I suppose I could start one (and I’m super flattered that you want to stay updated on my stuff). Let me know if you want to be included on it, I guess?]

Rating: M for not very descriptive sextingPairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie KaspbrakWord count: 1,004

It’s been a long day.

Well, really, it’s been a long week. A long month. A longlife, if Eddie were to give in to his dramatic tendencies. He’s exhausted,tired down to the bone. He was supposed to be off work two hours ago, butkindly old Mrs. Colburn had eased her equally-ancient Pontiac into the shop tenminutes before close and he couldn’t turn her down. He’d figured it would be aneasy fix. Sometimes there wasn’t anything wrong at all – her husband had diedthe year before and she didn’t really have anyone left to talk to, so sometimesshe claimed the door handle was stuck or the trunk wouldn’t latch closed, justto make conversation for a few minutes.

But this time, the alternator really had gone bad, and nowit’s almost dark out and Eddie’s only just catching the A-line out of OzonePark. He makes his living off cars, but he doesn’t drive much, mostly becauseof Richie’s insistence that his road rage is going to work him up into a heartattack one of these days. They’re both only 31, but for a guy who would live onCheetos and Dr. Pepper if he could, Richie is surprisingly serious about Eddie’shealth. Eddie had tried to insist he’s more likely to die by catching whateverdiseases might be lurking in the New York subway system, but Richie’s responseto that was to hide his car keys. He’s done it more than once since they movedto the city. Taking the subway is a reluctant habit by now.

It’ll be about forty minutes before he has to switch trains,so he settles into his seat and digs out his phone.

Unsurprisingly, there’s a text from Richie.

Am I ever gonna seeyou again?

Eddie snorts to himself. And Richie calls him the drama queen. Sure.

I told you I was gonnabe late.

Three dots appear almost immediately, like maybe Richie waswaiting for his answer. Not this late,he says, and Eddie can practically hear his pout.

I’m on my way home.

I’m in bed, Richiesays, which is interesting, to say the least. It’s barely eight o’clock, andRichie is a night person. He never goes to bed early, unless he’s sick, orunless they’re gonna… oh.

Like he was giving Eddie a moment to clue in, Richie textshim again, then. I’m touching myself.

Eddie gives a fast, furtive glance around the train, eventhough he’s somewhere in the middle in a row by himself. The train isn’t emptyby any means, but it’s not rush-hour full. The closest person is two rows ahead,and in true New York fashion, the guy has a cap pulled low over his eyes andheadphones jammed in his ears.

No one will care if he sexts his boyfriend. No one will evenknow.

Eddie slouches lower in his seat anyway, bent half over hisphone to shield it from view.

You’re a pervert,he types, and then: Are you naked?

Who’s the perv now? Richiesays, three winking emojis attached. Ofcourse I’m naked.

He’s right, it’s a pretty dumb question. Richie is always insome state of undress in the privacy of their apartment. He never wears shoesif he can help it, or a shirt. Most of their lazy weekend mornings involveRichie, bare-chested, sweatpants slung low on his hips, a challenge in hiseyes. It’s like a game – how long can Eddie last before he gives in and stripshim all the way down?

They’re not playing now, obviously. Eddie’s gonna come homeand Richie’s already going to be naked, probably hard, long body spread out intheir bed, his lip between his teeth, his hand on his dick. Jesus.

Miss me that much? Eddiecan’t help but ask.

Miss you always,Richie says. Eddie can practically hear the way he’d say it: honest,matter-of-fact, like there’s no room for doubt. Not that Eddie doubts it. Therewas plenty of time for Eddie to second-guess himself in the past, but Richiehas spent their adult life – and a few teenage years for good measure – assuringhim that this is all he wants. That Eddieis all he wants. At this point, it’s just a fact. Richie loves Eddie, and Eddieloves Richie, and no one is uncertain about that, least of all them.

I miss the way youtaste, Eddie says, just for fun. He didn’t used to be a tease, but like mostthings in his life, it’s Richie’s fault. Now Richie gets to deal with it.

You’re the one whorefused to suck me off this morning, Richie returns.

Leave it to Richie to still be upset about that. You were already late.

So? Richie says,like he wouldn’t mind having his morning knocked a few minutes off-course justto have Eddie’s mouth stretched around him.

I’ll blow you when Iget home.

You kidding? Richiesays. I’ve been thinking about this allday. I want more than a blowjob.

Eddie can’t help but grin at his phone. We’ll see.

Fucking tease,Richie accuses.

Not all of us have hadour minds in the gutter all day, Eddie says. Besides, patience is avirtue.

I’m not a saint,Richie replies, and God, doesn’t Eddie know it.

Whatever you want,Eddie finally concedes, the way they both knew he was going to, eventually. Itdoesn’t usually happen so fast, but maybe he was lying when he said he hadn’tbeen thinking about this all day, too. I’lldo whatever you want.

Good boy, Richiesays, and Eddie knows it’s a taunt but a tiny little shudder crawls all the wayup his spine anyway. I’m waiting.

Eddie puts his phone away and spends the rest of his commutestaring blankly out the window, trying very hard not to think about Richiewaiting for him at home, in their bed, lanky and long-limbed and dark-eyed,better and more beautiful than anything else Eddie could imagine.

#sometimes i write things #reddie #reddie fic #they're adults and in love #they didn't forget each other #sorry i don't make the rules #stellarbisexual #btw i promise i'm getting around to all these prompts #i'm just working in order of inspiration #love y'all! #prompts

[stretchjournalemerson]

Maternity Leave: A false Hindrance to the American Workplace

By Diti Kohli   

Acknowledgments 

“Once a month, my mother and I somehow fall into a conversation about the day my brother was born. I was five––a curious child dawdling at kindergarten, presumably learning about seasons and basic additions. But she was working.”

Thank you to Mary for her soapbox rants in class which inspired this paper and my quiet fight for better maternity leave policies. Thank you to Audrey, Kayla, and Clare for making my recklessly pieced-together words more understandable and eloquent. Thank you to Phil for enduring me while proofreading this piece out loud to him nearly four times the night before it was due. Thank you to my mom for serving as the pivotal point for me to center my academic analysis around and for being the shining light in my life every day. And most importantly, thank you to women and mothers everywhere who fight the good fight because they have to or they want to. My words are their words.

***

Once a month, my mother and I somehow fall into a conversation about the day my brother was born. I was five––a curious child dawdling at kindergarten, presumably learning about seasons and basic additions. But she was working. After downing a glass of warm milk in the morning and feeling rightfully queasy after, Mama hiked up her stretchy maternity jeans and made her way to the Subway franchise our family owned. There she gently laid tomatoes on people’s sandwiches, cleaned countertops, and managed payroll until her water broke, and my father scooped her away to the hospital. Exactly a month after her labor, we sold our Subway to another presentable family that had the time to manage it, unlike my mother who was now straddled with not one, but two young children.  

With my father working full-time, Mama found it best to dismiss her responsibilities at the restaurant to care for her newborn and five-year-old. This solution was possible only because of our family’s financial stability and my parents’ compromise. And because my mother essentially worked for herself, it was painfully easy to voluntarily slip out of her obligations. She wasn’t bound by contract to upper management, and there was no man in power to whom she had to explain the strenuous reality of parenting. Millions of other parents around the country cannot afford this same luxury of leaving work so effortlessly for their children.

Throngs of complaining women root their frustrations in an unsatisfying federal maternity leave policy. Author Megan Sholar, who detailed the policy in the American Historian, gained acclaim for her professorship at Loyola University and her book titled “Getting Paid While Taking Time” on the history of United States leave. Sholar explains the provisions for parental leave that were detailed in the Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA) in 1993. The FMLA mandates employers offer 12 weeks of unpaid, job-protected leave to women starting families––but even this stringent three-month release is limited by an array of eligibility requirements, including length of employment, size of employer, pay scale, and more (Sholar). Though the legislation was seen as an accomplishment and haven for those starting families at the time of its release, the American mandate is especially strict and unforgiving on households, and families cite its inadequacy time and time again.

The argument often stands that poor maternity leave policies hinder families. Restrictive family regulations loosen children’s bonds to their working parents, set up ample opportunities for childhood isolation, and leave women daydreaming about the state of their newborns while at their desks. But the argument the corporate world should be considered goes unscathed. Due to an ingrained American cultural perspective, extending maternity leave is commonly seen as a hindrance to business. But would extending maternity and parental leave policies’ nationwide truly hurt women’s workplace performance and the economic state of employers in the way this perspective argues? The reality may be the opposite.

Lengthening the duration and financial regulations assigned for maternity leave results in long-term positives that are currently either voluntarily or ignorantly overlooked by most employers. The eventual benefits of extending parental policies, as is done by dozens of other countries and will be detailed later, are overshadowed in today’s negative cultural lens through which leave is usually viewed. And the advantages of widening these policies cannot materialize without first challenging and changing the national attitude toward maternity leave.

Opposition to improved maternity leave is deeply rooted in this American cultural norm, easily adopted and expanded by conservative lawmakers and employers. As a country founded through strident individualism and dogged hard work, leave of any kind––parental leave included––is perceived as a deviation from professional goals. Career features journalist Rachel Gillett writes for Business Insider, “individualism and business...these ideals have been incompatible with the idea of paying new parents to spend time off from work for their kids” (Gillet). Companies view the need to take off work for early childcare as an extradition from economic productivity and profit. But this perception is painfully simplified; it adheres to the basic idea that less work overall is being done when the employee cannot come to her job temporarily.

This attitude is compounded by the economic system that rules the United States. America thrives on being fiercely capitalist––an identification that immediately undermines jobs that traditionally befall women, like housework and child care. A capitalist society hinges itself on the accumulation of profit, and consequently, employers assign financial value to the work their laborers complete. Bryce Covert, women’s political writer and contributor to The Nation, explores the interplay between capitalism and career women in her piece “Is There Room for Women Workers in Capitalism?” The dismal response to her title’s question is no. “Under capitalism, work done outside the home can be sold for wages to capital; work done inside the home can’t create more capital for the capitalists,” she wrote. Following this principle, corporations see little need to ascribe resources for women caring for children outside of their professional jobs (Covert). Their absence from work for maternity leave does not create conventional “capital,” and in this effect, attains no basic monetary contention for the company. But employers’ decision not to provide these resources for working mothers perpetuates a unequal system where these women's labor goes overlooked, hurting both the employee and the employer.

A group of three researchers commissioned by the International Labor Office detail the outmoded perception that allows this cycle of underappreciation to continue in their study titled “Maternity Leave in SMEs: An International Review.” Prominent labor researcher Suzann Lewis and her colleagues highlight the need for a cultural shift in order for the benefits of extended leave to finally reach fruition. “Without a wider understanding, employers are likely to perceive staff maternity as an unnecessary disruption rather than a fact of business life that can be managed productively,” wrote Lewis. Employers’ inability to look past this cultural obstruction is the foundation of their misconception, “underpinning their hostility or resistance to the introduction of related measures” (Lewis et. al). Those constructing leave regulations on a policy level are stuck in a one-track mindset that prioritizes checkmarks on daily to-do lists over long-term productivity that is inevitably boosted by more reasonable maternity policies.

The nature of the American workplace and its inherent lack of flexibility only further obstructs the path for maternity leaves’ betterment. The American workplace not only rewards, but expects, overworking––an activity that is an impossibility for the average working parent. Journalists Hanna Schank and Elizabeth Wallace wrote a seven-part series on women’s ambitions following college for The Atlantic, a popular American commentary magazine. In their article, Schank and Wallace find the average employee extending the 40-hour work week by seven hours in addition to time spent commuting. The women realize that “for the working world to continue to function as it does, and for houses and children to continue to function as they do, someone must take on double duty” (Schank and Wallace). As parents on “double duty” prioritize the needs of their children and slip away from the demanding environment of a workplace that operates over full-time, it’s no wonder bosses see no way through which maternity leave could help their bottom line.

Based on this enduring cultural perspective in the United States, resistance to improved leave carries on, founded in the aforementioned idea that parental leave cannot contribute beneficially to economic productivity. But research into the impact of better leave offers up a more progressive perspective. In actuality, improving maternity leave lends itself to further cost efficiency for the employer and strengthened national workplace equality.

In reaction to poor maternity leave policy, more and more women find themselves interrupting or ending their careers because of their inability to sustain the upkeep of two jobs––one professional and one familial. University professorships and administrators serve as microcosms to examine the linkage between length of maternity leave and retention. Mariaelisa Epifanio and Vera Troeger, prominent researchers at the UK institutions Liverpool University and the University of Warwick respectively, explored this connection at colleges in Britain in their study titled “Bargaining over Maternity Pay: Evidence from UK Universities.” In relation to this paper’s study of American parental leave, their research is prefaced by the fact that the UK offers stronger maternity leave than the United States to begin with––52 weeks with few additional contingencies. Nevertheless, the study concluded that universities who provided shorter maternity leave provisions saw lower retention rates in the women they previously employed (Epifanio and Troeger). Companies then lose trained workers, equipped for the jobs they had and likely to return if offered extended opportunities around childbirth.

And decreased retention of working women, as seen in Epifanio and Troeger’s research, ultimately hurts the pockets of employers who are often too concerned with the immediate finances required to cover parents on leave. Budgeting the extra money to allow for improved leave is a cost far smaller than that of replacing trained workers. Researchers for Family Matters, a non-profit organization dedicated to ending the structural oppression of families, spearheaded a study called “The role of planning, support, and maternal and infant factors in women's return to work after maternity leave,” led by Melissa Coulson and two other colleagues with extensive experience in family-related research. In it, they evaluated the economic realities of turnover: “the costs of replacing employees is quite high, with estimates of turnover costs ranging from 29% to 46%. Moreover, the costs cited do not consider the indirect costs…such as those associated with the initial inefficiency of a new employee” (Coulson et. al). Women, who are bound by the cutoffs of America’s current leave policies, are subjecting their employers to turnover costs when as mothers, they are given an age-old ultimatum: keeping their jobs or having the prolonged ability to care for their newborns? When many inevitably choose the latter, companies’ budgets flail. In this situation, the shortsightedness of the average American employer limits them from considering the overall finances which undoubtedly support improved leave.

Aside from the costs of replacement, retaining working women who return from childbirth elevates the quality of employees and therefore employers’ work. Epifanio and Troeger's research in Britain found some universities offered better leave provisions to attract and keep skilled professors and administers who produce work that would benefit the reputation and standing of the institution. This concept can be expanded to companies, who can look to enhance the quality of their production by putting employee loyalty at the forefront of their mission by strengthening their leave policy.

Conversely, improving leave policies allows employers to attract a wider range of applicants for positions, in addition to retaining their skilled workers as explored in the last paragraph. Rebecca Greenfield, a journalist for the business and market news publication, Bloomberg, explained how companies with longer better leave draw in a larger breadth of applicants: “such laws can motivate companies to adopt the benefit in order to stay competitive...benefits such as paid parental leave may be more psychologically appealing than a raise.” Greenfield’s work evidences a concept that is often overlooked––better maternity leave not only keeps those who are good at their jobs, it entices other highly skilled people to employers with reasonable leave regulations. An expanded applicant pool has the potential to improve a company's workforce, efficiency, and productivity as a result.

In addition, adopting improved maternity leave regulations potentially allows employers to showcase a progressive stance on hiring practices––they can display an understanding that women, including those who give birth and raise children, are equally hireable as men and single women. They can convey both through increased hiring and retention that these women are not professionally disposable in the way they have been in the past. The normalization of employing working mothers will also raise the level of societal equality in the workplace.

In fact, improved regulation before and after pregnancy has a wide-reaching bettering effect on equality in the American workplace in more ways than the one previously mentioned. Shivani Kapur, a graduate law student at The University of Alberta, examined how pregnant women and mothers are negatively stereotyped and positioned in Canadian workplaces in her thesis titled “Pregnancy and Motherhood: Prejudice, Stereotyping and Discrimination in the Canadian Workplace.” Kapur cites maternity leave discrimination that has reinforced “women’s economic dependence on men.” She continues to say that “the general absence of maternity leave laws...fostered the notion that the mother and worker were incompatible roles, thereby perpetuating women’s subordinate position.” Her research asserts stronger maternity policies would provide more room for career-driven women to climb the professional ladder and aid the goals of employers (Kapur). Improved leave regulations then would lead to the increased presence of equal pay despite gender and allow more women to reach higher-level positions––two indicators of greater workplace equality. In addition, women’s increased professional climb and pay equity as a result of improved maternity leave policy will strengthen American economic productivity overall.

Despite the economic advantages of extending maternity leave, the national perception of leave stands still. The societal, financial, and systematic obstacles are seemingly endless for working mothers, building one after another even as more women enter the force. This paper’s exploration of maternity leave only skims its economic and societal effects. Topics including gender-free parental leave, pregnancy discrimination, and family impact post-leave were not even mentioned simply because of time and space restrictions. In an ever-evolving world where jobs become antiquated and new ones emerge, working mothers’ dilemmas shift and change with the times and are in constant need of being justified and explored.

As of now, after seeing my own mother dip out of professional life for her children, I find it essential we reevaluate the American capitalist model that devalues parental work. I watched Mama go to every single one of my dance performances, make my crustless sandwiches after school, and pick up the laundry off my floor as I was a reckless middle schooler. And after leaving her job at Subway, she did the same for my brother. Though looked down upon from a corporate perspective, her decision was praised by full-time mothers and perfect for our family situation. Eventually her choice derailed others’ professional perspective of her. But the public must question the way the overarching American cultural perspective, proven wrong in this paper, has influenced their thinking before judging all mothers the same way. Only then can the label of “mother” and “worker” professionally and personally coincide.

Works Cited

Covert, Bryce. "Is There Room for Women Workers Under Capitalism?" The Nation, July 2015.

Coulson, Melissa; Skouteris, Helen and Dissanayake, Cheryl. The role of planning, support, and maternal and infant factors in women's return to work after maternity leave [online]. Family Matters, No. 90, 2012.

Epifanio, Mariaelisa, and Vera E. Troeger. "Bargaining over Maternity Pay: Evidence from UK Universities." Feb. 12 2019.

Greenfield, Rebecca. "More Companies Than Ever Offer Paid Parental Leave." Bloomberg, June 28 2018.

Gillett, Rachel. "Most people in America want paid parental leave — here's the real reason the US is the only developed nation that doesn't have it." Business Insider, Oct. 1 2017.

Kapur, Shivani. "Pregnancy and Motherhood: Prejudice, Stereotyping and Discrimination in the Canadian Workplace." University of Alberta Journal of Law, 2017, pp. 85-94.

Kohli, Gurpreet. Personal interview. Mar. 30 2019.

Lewis, Suzann, et al. Maternity Protection in SMEs : An International Review. International Labor Office, 2014, pp. 1-16. International Labor Office. FLO eResource Catalog Emerson.

Schank, Hana, and Elizabeth Wallace. "Beyond Maternity Leave." The Atlantic, Dec. 2016.

#politics #maternity leave #diti kohli #stretch2019