#brenda from hr

[super-earth-hr]

You will be charged for all coffee consumed on your Destroyer. It is not complimentary.

#brenda from hr #helldiver #helldivers #super earth

[wingedjellyfishflight]

Sexual Harassment Training

Captain Price has a permanent scowl on his face today, it seems. You see him stomping around like a toddler on a rampage at lunch.

"What's got the Captain all bollocksed up? Did I say that, right?" Soap grins, then grimaces as he thinks about it. Standing together, you dump your trays before Soap leads you to the team meeting.

"Ya, doll, that's how you say it. He's like this every year. Mandatory sexual harassment training for everyone this afternoon." You ponder it for a minute.

"Why? Like, it's just something to sit through, right? It isn't like anyone is harassing our team."

He chuckles quietly and answers, "they aren't worried about the likes of me getting harassed, but that we will harass you, Princess." You elbow him and sit next to Ghost, who has saved you as seat per usual.

"Hey Luv, ready to be bored and insulted for a few hours?"

"Are these really that bad, Bruv?"

"They are, Crumpet. They really are."

"Hey! You need to address your coworkers with respect! Nicknames have no place in this organization, Mr..."

"Riley, Lieutenant Riley." Ghost stiffens up in his seat, restrained irritation pouring off of him. The woman from human resources turns toward you.

"Ma'am I have the form here to file a complaint when you feel up to it. No rush."

"Uhh... a complaint?" You stare at her in complete confusion as she brandishes a form at your face.

"Yes, no one should be treated with such disrespect. Talking down to coworkers is frowned upon." Her voice is condescendingly sweet, grating on your last nerve already. You stare at her for a moment before nodding, and Ghost tries to catch your eye, looking shocked.

"Pet... I mean, Sergeant. Do my nicknames make you feel uncomfortable? I will stop if they do. You never said anything, or I wouldn't have..."

"Hmm...? Oh no, but I will be filing a complaint." Turning toward the smirking woman, you ask, "what was your name again? Brenda McMasters? Perfect." You quickly fill out the paperwork before handing it over. She skims it with a smile, then freezes in place as she reads it more closely, her smile falling. She looks up at you, then back at the paper, reading it again and again as the words sink in.

"You- you can't file a complaint on me! I'm the one teaching you about sexual harassment! I'm here to make sure these brutes don't attack you!"

You shrug before responding, "I feel singled out by you due to my gender and your policing of the camaraderie between myself and my teammates. It is making me feel very uncomfortable, Ma'am." Her jaw is hanging open in complete shock.

You stand and turn to the Captain, watching you with a grin on his face at the front of the room. "I don't know if I feel comfortable being taught by someone who is sexist and clearly violating policy, Captain Price. May we request a different lecturer? I know it will mean rescheduling, but I don't think we should be learning about harassment from someone who has a complaint on file."

Captain Price has to smother his grin and bite back laughter at your innocent expression when Brenda turns toward him. "You are right, Sergeant. Ma'am, I will take that complaint and file it. It wouldn't be proper for you to file one on yourself, or it might go missing in transit." He gleefully plucks the paper from her hands and walks out. She follows, looking ill. You can hear her trying to get the Captain to stop and discuss the matter..

You lean on the table with a pleased look. "So, free afternoon, now. Any plans?" The team just stares at you, still processing what happened. You see Ghost staring down at the table and tap his hand. "You alright, Tiger?" He looks up, visibly distressed.

"The nicknames, do they bother you, Sergeant?" He needs to know now. The last thing anyone here wants is to disrespect you.

"Course not. Makes my day. The only things better are cuddling after a long day while we watch movies in the rec room or killing fucks on the field together. HR doesn't know what the fuck they're talking about, Bruv." Turning back to the rest of the team with a grin you say, "How about we sun up on Captain's grass? He won't be back for a bit anyway."

"You're playing with fire, Lamb. We're in."

#ghost cod #captain john price #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty

[hyperfixiation-station]

Lighter Pt.3

TW: Mentions of injuries, swearing

Summary: So you made it through the night. Now are you gonna wake up?

Part 1

Part 2

Over the course of the next four days Ghost, and sometimes Soap, do what they can to bring you back. Soap drops off your favorite blanket, the dryer sheets you use, and your MP3 player. Sometimes, while he forces Ghost to sleep, he’ll sit with you and tell you about his day, how annoying the new recruits are, and how Brenda in HR changed her hair again. 

Ghost doesn't leave your side, even to sleep. He simply curls up in the chair until Soap leaves. He does everything he can to stimulate a normal day for you, even washing your greasy hair one night. He doesn’t say much, not like Soap does, but his presence is constant, and he hopes you can feel him. 

He’s holding your hand, nearly a week after the ‘ventilator scare’, as Soap dubbed it, when something changes. At first, he can’t figure it out, but as he scans your body he notices your eyelids are fluttering. 

He watches with bated breath as your eyes flutter open. 

“Y/N?” He whispers hoarsely, watching you squint. 

“Y/N.” He says sharply as he watches your hand come up to your face, tangling the wires. For a brief second he panics, thinking you are going to rip them out. 

“Y/N.” He says again. This time, your head turns towards him. His stomach drops as your face somehow pales even more and you start gagging. He presses the call button before carefully helping you sit up, rubbing your back as you dry-heave. 

“Sorry, I'm sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispers. His eyes flick to a glass of water that Soap had left for him and he grabs it, still supporting you with his other hand. He guides it to your lips, tipping it slowly into your mouth so you don’t choke. 

Satisfied, he slowly eases you back down, brushing your hair out of your sweaty face. 

“Simon?" Your voice is hoarse and weak and barely audible but it’s your voice. Ghost could almost cry. 

“Bloody hell Y/N. You scared me.” He murmurs hoarsely. His hands shake as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. 

“You got shot, and then, like a bloddy fuckin’ idiot, you had me cauterize it and went into shock.“You lost almost a liter of blood, and flatlined twice while they repaired your hip.” He carefully grabs your hand, minding the wires. 

“Wha’ hap…” Your voice trails off, and it scares him just a little.

“Oh.” Your response is so low he almost doesn’t catch it. But he does, and it makes him smile slightly. God how he missed you.

“Yeah, oh.” He says softly, the elation at seeing you awake quickly being replaced by guilt. He squeezes your hand, subconsciously seeking comfort. 

"How do you feel?" He brings his hand to your face, brushing your hair out of your eyes again, running his thumb under your eye. 

The nurse finally comes in, but it is too late, you have already fallen back asleep. She checks your vitals and makes a note in your chart before exiting the room, leaving Ghost alone with your limp form. There is fear in his heart that you won’t wake up again, the only reassurance he gets is from watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, a silent but clear sign that you are still alive. 

“T’red.” You mumble. He smiles sadly, watching as you struggle to focus on the hand on your cheek.

“I bet. Go to sleep so that you can heal and I can yell at you for being stupid without feeling guilty.” He murmurs softly, hand trembling on your cheek.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #angst #ghost fanfiction #feast my children #you guys have no idea how bad I want to kill you off #but i won't #for now

[burritowitch]

[angelwrath00]

Hi, this is Brenda from HR. We need to set up a meeting with you and your boss re: his search history.

🤣🤣 oops

[loressa]

Burgertime

----

Salt, fat, sizzle, sear - the components are basic and mandatory. The burger is the star and never let anyone tell you otherwise...even if that someone is a stupid bullshit Goodwill microwave because *someone* (Brenda in HR) is too fucking cheapass to upgrade.

I dont have time for this - Timmons needs a submit by noon for a merge by five because Perkins is absolutely horrible at his job - but fuck Perkins. I want a burger, specifically MY deliciously seared burger from last night, so it's time to settle in and wait. Triple beep on that idiot machine (fuck you, Brenda) and the microwave power's at 50% for that slow, deep reheat.

Some TV while we wait - Pedro seems to be really doing it dirty to Janessa Maria. Would NOT be surprised if he ends up stabbed with all those side chicas he's had going for weeks.

Annoyingly, the lunchroom TV cuts from daytime telenovelas to grainy cellphone zooms of movie monsters spilling out of weird machines. I check on my burger - ten minutes left and still rotating nicely, despite all expectations - and then focus back on the news again.

Invasion. Aliens. Doom. This channel sucks. Flip through a few, but it's all the same broadcast - burger doing great - and that's when I realized what's happening.

This bullshit castoff Oliver of a microwave is all please-maam-may-I-have-moreing my burger into a dry, shitty crumble. Fuck you, Brenda. Power down even lower, might help, has to help. I still hate Brenda.

Back to ten minutes and what is this bullshit on the TV. Timmons' task floats into my head and I kick myself - I didn't drop those completed components into code review. By the time I get back from that, we're at eight minutes, the burger is lightly sizzling and I've realized the entire office is empty.

Fucking corporate yoga. I can even hear them upstairs - graceful, my ass, they sound like elephants tap dancing. Seven minutes to heaven, though, so who gives a shit. I think I'll add some BBQ sauce, just to be heathenous.

I hear a crash from the area near Perkins' desk, but who cares. The guy is a mess. Six minutes. Looking juicy. Another crash. Did they have a lunch out? Perkins *likes* to drink, why do you think he's useless after lunchtime?

Flip channels for a bit, but it's all the same stupid YouTube alien movie promo crap - five minutes, die in a fire, Brenda - so I browse Reddit looking at food pics. Another crash and now it's starting to seem a bit weird. I glance at the microwave, mouth almost aching - four minutes - and sigh. Gotta help Perkins.

Aaaand, nope, that's an alien. That's totally, completely, absolutely, how the fuck is that an alien. He's... she's? It's tall, scaly, oozy, slimy, totally not human, pure nightmare factory, and appears to be baffled by a stapler. Why does Perkins even have a stapler?

You how know under pressure our brains turn into trapped rats trying to find the easiest way out and we think and do amazing shit? So yeah, three minutes left and burger is looking good.

I thank my Brenda-esque brain for absolutely nothing and dart back into the lunchroom, which has apparently become my safe house against an alien invasion. Yay, I always wanted to fight for my life surrounded by old egg salad and leftover pasta.

Right about now is when I realize my problem. See, the microwave has been going with an ambient hum since Sumeria was the shit, so any changes are going to be instantly noticed...and we're at two minutes left. Also the burger is looking amazi-

Right, yeah, pull it together girl. Fuck you, Brenda. With a REAL microwave, I would have been out of here alr-

Well, hold on now. I creep back to the door. The alien's apparently given up on staplers and is kinda scanning the room. Like, literally, scanning. There's old 90s style movie graphics sprouting out of his/her/its eyes.

One minute left - hi burger, you're beautiful - and I'm fumbling with my phone. This whole situation is stupid enough, might as well try....

And there we are. WiFi scanner is picking up something absolutely weird and confusing, clearly some sort of network we can't identify. The alien's got some tech - or biology? - emitting a signal.

I groan. I know the answer. I hate the answer. I sigh. I curse fucking Brenda. 10 seconds left. I back away and close my eyes. Everyone sacrifices in trying times.

3, 2, 1 - the rotation stops and the stupid little defunct microwave gives a happy chirp of a ding. Done! Aren't you proud of me? Never, Brenda-spawn.

A claw appears around the door. Oh fuuuuck, yep, this is happening. I duck down behind a table and reach up to fumble at the microwave door. Hopefully aliens aren't vegan. I manage to jab it open and suddenly the delicious, intoxicating smell of the perfect burger floods the lunchroom, rich and redolent.

Apparently demons like burgers, but I was counting on this. Everyone likes burgers unless they are useless bitches named Brenda. S/he/it leaps for the microwave and I slide sideways - this is a horrible idea - putting myself closer to her as my arms fumble at the countertop. Oh, god, it stinks like childhood trauma and ozone. Too late now and here we go - the creature realizes I'm here far too late, flailing and turning with way too many arms writhing about. His head is at the same level of the counter top, body coiled to strike.

My lunging fall nearly fails, apparently my aim is terrible, but I trip on a chair and surge upwards again, hands finally wrapping around the microwave.

"You like to transmit shit about Earth?????!" I want to scream but instead I just kinda squeak as I grab the horrible microwave with its beautiful payload and slide the entire thing over the creature's head.

"Farrady cage?" I whisper hopefully, quickly backing away, because that - and my burger - was really all I had. For a second, the alien is still, simply standing there with his/her/its head crammed in a microwave, before its head gives a sudden, anticlimactic plop and sinks to the ground, ooze puddling out on his/her/its shoulders.

As the creature falls, his/her/it's body gives a shake, some final death throe, and, with a rattle, a little brown disc comes soaring out of the microwave. It's a beautiful, heartwarming moment. The alien's dead, Berlin is playing take my breath away and I've been reunited with my hamburger.

The rest of earth can wait a few more minutes for me to save it. This shit is finally hot and ready and it's lunchtime for momma.

#creative writing #scifi writing #writing #comedy #comedy writing #funny stuff #funny #funny story #funny scifi #comedy scifi

[musicandotherdelights]

Daily Listening, Day #1,113 - January 17th, 2023

Album: Midtown 120 Blues (Mule Musiq, 2008)

Artist: Terre Thaemlitz [As DJ Sprinkles]

Genre: Deep House

Track Listing: 

"Midtown 120 Intro"

"Midtown 120 Blues"

"Ball'r (Madonna-Free Zone)"

"Brenda's $20 Dilemma"

"House Music In Controllable Desire You Can Own"

"Sisters, I Don't Know What This World Is Coming To"

"Reverse Rotation"

"Grand Central, Pt. I (Deep In The Bowel Of House)"

"Grand Central, Pt. II (72 Hrs. By Rail From Missouri)"

"The Occasional Feel-Good"

Note: Not released in the United States.

Favorite Song: "Sisters, I Don't Know What This World Is Coming To"

#Midtown 120 Blues #Terre Thaemlitz #DJ Sprinkles #Mule Musiq #Deep House #2008 #Late 2000s #2000s

[pye-mental-health]

- MAIN PYE MENTAL HEALTH BLOG -

Mood Tracking Records

>> Behaviors/Actions

14 Sep - Feeling Depressed; Brain Fog; Suspiciousness on people (strangers; classmates)

13 Sep - Alert on Rebound Depressive/Anxiety Episode

1 Sep - 12 Sep - Stable; Very Productive; Sociable; Occasional Negative Thinking; Hypersexual; Sometimes Bored

>> Able to have a smooth flow in school (despite weather conditions); Ambitious in Designing Personalised Projects; Weekday Instagram Deactivation; Compliant with medications

31 Aug - Anxious; Gradual return of Low Mood

>> Worried about school (Adapting to a new Environment)

14 Aug - 30 Aug - Stable Mood; Productive; Relaxed; Can be easily irritated at some point; Generally Happy; Optimistic

>> 1 hr-2 hr Driving; Swimming; Socializing In real-life; Take Care of a Dog; Wanting a dream SUV; Many Design Ideas of houses, buses; No Social Media from 11 Aug to 25 Aug; Cousin visits HK (spoiled money on her)

>> *Outburst of frustration/anger in HK Airport*

13 Aug (Sun) - Severely Depressed; Tired; Unsociable; Hypersomnia; Extremely Irritable; Violent

>> Unable to be active; Overthinking about the Jeremiah Situation;

11-12 Aug (Fri&Sat) - Very depressed; Hypersomnia; Irritable; Unsociable; Emotional Meltdown; Paranoid

>> Devastated from the news of Jeremiah unfollowing me; Cried a lot; Slept for the whole afternoon (Two days)

10 Aug (Thu) - Sociable; Calm & Collected; Full of energy (Evening)

>> Revealed honest feelings towards Jeremiah

* 7-11 Aug (Tue-Sat): No stock of Quetiapine *

6-7 Aug (Sun&Mon) - Relaxed; Mesmerised; Happy;

>> BGC Manila Trip

30 July (Sun) - Very depressed; Numb; Somewhat stable; Guilty

>> Could not socialize well at first; reunion with Evangelista Family; Trained to drive; Racing Negative Thoughts

29 July (Sat) - Cloudy; Depressed; Unsociable; Somewhat normal after napping

>> Lashed out at a cousin; tried to harm myself; almost overdosed on Imovane; Slept late and had midnight snack (watched with Rin)

28 July (Fri) - Blues; Low Mood; Unsociable (Depressed?); Anxious; Unhappy

>> Paranoid Negative Thoughts (Catastrophizing); New school life; Anticipating Next-week plans

25 July (Tues) - Depressed; Sleepy; Irritable; Negative Racing Thoughts

>> Paranoid about stranger stalking; Ongoing Projects completion; Lack of Social Activity

24 July (Mon) - Okay/Calm/Happy; Sociable

>> Ongoing projects completion; productive with planning; attended Tita Brenda’s Golden & spoke with the fever dream people; had a quality time

23 July (Sun) - Okay at first; feeling very low for a phase; Tired

>> Ongoing Projects Completion; Worried for Higher Education Applications

22 July (Sat) - Okay/Calm/Relaxed; Feeling a bit High; Sociable

>> Less Hours of Sleep after Drinking Alcohol Still Energized; Learnt how to drive

———————————————————————

18 July (Tue): Super distracted; Lazy to pack belongings; still catastrophising over the Philippines Trip

>> Unable to complete most errands

Physically Tired from running errands for brother in my school (Pre-S1 Exam) >> Mentally-scolded myself for being forgetful and lazy; Sociable and very talkative with teachers; Drawing/designing; Cussed at a bus driver for yelling;

Hyper at night (Feeling High as if on drugs); Hyperactive; super laughy; Life made so much sense again

17 July (Mon): Stable; Normal Mood

16 July (Sun): Depressed; Overthinking; Social Anxiety at first; Very Low Mood

>> Not in good terms with some friends; Uncomfortable around them & feeling guilty and extremely upset

15 July (Sat): Depressed; Extremely Irritated; Guilty; Super Confused

>> Negative Racing thoughts; Angry at people (ex-friends); guilty for causing pain to everyone; super forgetful of things (misplacing things; things feel disoriented)

14 July (Fri): Sad/Depressed; Irritated; Guilty

>> Self-medicate in afternoon, loss of energy to do things at night as a result

13 July (Thu): Extremely Guilty; Paranoid about being an embarrassment to everyone; Very Sad; Anxious; low energy than the past few days (Unsure if suicidal)

>> Racing thoughts: Everything makes sense; became extra aware

———————————————————————

12 July (Wed): Elevated Mood; Laughy; Sleepy; Irritable

11 July (Tue): *Best Day* Great Mood; Super happy; Nostalgic; Irritable Mood; Energetic

>> Waited for my brother’s Secondary School Results at his school; Projects: Singing/Desiging; Reunited with childhood friends and hung out (drank Kung Fu Tea, ate Hot Cheetos, French Fries, dinner at Saizeriya, strolled around the mall)

10 July (Mon): Good Mood; Guilty; Relaxed; Super hyperactive at home

>> Fetched brother from school; treated brother lunch; socialized with Primary school teachers; laugh at surrounding objects at home/internal thoughts like a maniac; impersonated people from videos (of them arguing); very laughy

9 July (Sun): Irritable Mood; Anxious; Guilty; Hyperactive at night after work

>> Annoyed at coworker, Overthinking (positive & negative), kept my composure at work; treated myself dinner; posted about raging/suicide threat on Instagram; Deactivated Instagram ever since

6 July (Thu): Elevated Mood; Irritable Mood

7 July (Fri): Anxious; Low Mood

>> Vaped with friend; Bought some clothes; Food; Travelled to Tung Chung

8 July (Sat): Normal Mood; Slept in Afternoon; Projects in Progress

>> Done many projects

[trustpr]

The hidden movie review

#The hidden movie review serial

Unexplainably capable of stretching oral orifices beyond normal dimensions, the monstrosity gruesomely tunnels out of and back into unwitting victims – including Harem Room stripper Brenda Lee Van Buren (Claudia Christian). Right off the bat, the alien slug is revealed and, though the overall mystery disappears, it’s an impressively revolting sequence. It’s soon evident that the slimy black creature changes human hosts frequently and uses the flimsy bodies to take whatever it likes (mainly Porsches and Ferraris) and kills anyone in its path. Sure enough, the burn victim awakens long enough to transfer a massive insectoid alien directly into Johnathan P. Despite the fact that DeVries isn’t supposed to make it through the night, Lloyd hurries over to the hospital, knowledgeable on the man’s suspicious activities and the likelihood of a startling recovery. When FBI Agent Lloyd Gallagher (Kyle MacLachlan) arrives in Los Angeles from Seattle, he seeks out star detective Sergeant Thomas Beck (Michael Nouri) for information on stockbroker DeVries.

#The hidden movie review serial

As a rampaging serial killer – responsible for the deaths of 12 people, 6 robberies, 23 injuries, and numerous carjackings, among other crimes – Jack seems to deserve his miserable fate. A heavily armed police roadblock causes the flight to end in a fiery explosion, with the culprit Jack DeVries (Chris Mulkey) stuck in a coma in intensive care, with severe burns. Turning up the rock music apparently inspires some reckless but effective evasive maneuvers and enables him to careen through a park – though he fails to avoid an elderly man in a wheelchair blocking his path. Vicious, smiling murderer robs a Wells Fargo bank with a shotgun before fleeing in his black sports car. Release Date: October 30th, 1987 MPAA Rating: Rĭirector: Jack Sholder Actors: Kyle MacLachlan, Michael Nouri, Claudia Christian, Clarence Felder, Clu Gulager, Ed O’Ross, Richard Brooks, Katherine Cannon, Lin Shaye A Genre: Sci-Fi Thriller Running Time: 1 hr.

#The hidden movie review

[super-earth-hr]

Any Helldiver seen bringing RAID to the Terminid front will be reevaluated for basic training.

#brenda from hr #helldivers #helldiver #super earth

[apolohgy]

.

#my job benefits includes 3 free therapy sessions w better help and on one hand i know tumblr n twitter are kinda against bh idk why i’ll #google it later but i’m actually pretty grateful bc i’ve never had a job before that offers these types of benefits not to mention the #hourly rate is high especially for the area. places in el paso texas will have you performing open heart surgery for $8/hr. anyway #i wouldn’t continue the membership bc i was reading it yesterday and it’s $45/weekly which is um. insane! but i’ll take 3 free sessions any #day not to mention i really need it now more than ever so these couldn’t have come at a better time to say the least ! #anyway when i was doing the intake over the phone the lady was getting all my info and in the middle she goes #‘i can tell you’re southern bc you say ma’am at the end of your sentences’ HELLOO!!!???????!!!?!! #and i was like ‘oh i thought that was common’ and she goes ‘no not in philly’ LMFAO please! this is almost as bad as getting recognized for #having in tumblr by a stranger. i thought being chicana/living as close to the mexican fucking border that i’m practically riding it/being #raised surrounded by mexicans my whole life would save me from the southern antics but i’ve been drinking the koolaid and didn’t even #realize it ! i almost clutched my chest afterward it was so shocking and excuse me but i’m still convinced that’s a common thing to do at #least in the united states. if you don’t live in the south (god_i_wish_that_were_me.pdf) and use ma’am and sir often-ish then drop some #hearts in the comments. if you don’t live in the south and also don’t say ma’am and sir drop some desserts or farm animals… maybe i’ll #prove brenda from philly wrong tonight. also noah’s fence but she’s from the east coast and that says enough if we’re being honest #if i have any moots from philadelphia or the east coast i adore you and this has all been a harvard social experiment ❤️‍🩹

[that-was-a-choice]

What did y'all come up with for your stage name?

ANYONE WHO SAID HANNAH MONTANA: DO NOT INTERACT

#mine's Brenda from HR #choices #pixelberry #playchoices #choices stories you play #platinum

[just-here-for-the-moment]

File 20_Subject: Valentine's Day delivery

Declassified HR Files Series Masterlist - a collaboration between @driedgreentomatoes and @just-here-for-the-moment

Summary: Things get heated in the mailroom Warnings: It's a federal offense to open someone else's mail ---

From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: February 13, 2012 3:01 PM Subject: Valentine’s Day delivery

Jack,

I’m sure you noticed our counter-ops team deploying this morning (and passing right by your office on their way to the mailroom). And I’m equally certain that you noticed a large, controlled explosion around 9:00 a.m. that the counter-ops demolition team deployed in order to neutralize a suspicious package.

Now I want to ask: why the hell was your name and address written on the package sent from an “Amanda Sugar Tits”???

Oh, but that’s not the best part… the BEST part is that the vibrating package was actually addressed to Jack “Daddy” Daniels, and it included an anatomically-correct vibrator, a bottle of edible strawberry lubricant, a Polaroid camera with film, and a pair of “gently used” panties.

I’m having a conniption fit here. You know the policy about not having personal mail sent to HQ, not to mention the suspicious nature of a package that started vibrating when it hit the conveyor belt in the sorting area.

I ain’t happy, son.

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected], [email protected] Date: February 13, 2012 3:49 PM Re: Valentine’s Day delivery

Oops… sorry about that. I told her not to send that here.

I’ll, uh, punish her tonight for disobeying.

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: February 13, 2012 3:52 PM Re: Valentine’s Day delivery

Stop, for God’s sake. I don’t need to know the details.

You owe me one new bomb disposal robot, and you owe the ladies in the forensic lab lunch for the disturbing task of having to put the pieces of your sex life back together for analysis.

//Champ -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected], [email protected] Date: February 13, 2012 4:23 PM Re: Valentine’s Day delivery

You mean the blonde lab tech, Brenda? The one with the curvy legs? And the petite gal Amina with the cute little glasses and her tight little lab coat?

I will DEFINITELY take them both out for a meal. Maybe at the same time…

JACK -------------------- From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Date: February 13, 2012 4:29 PM Re: Valentine’s Day delivery

Not what I meant, and that’s quite enough. Focus on your work this week, or you’ll be spending Valentine’s Day sorting files in the archives with me. And I don’t kiss on the first date.

//Champ ---

<<File 19 : File 21>>

@anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @quica-quica-quica @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @elegantduckturtle @halalinstreetsharaminsheets @donnaa @eri16 @idolized-sea-salt @jusanothertmblrusermate @furious-rogue-stuff

#HR Files Agent Whiskey #HR File Agent Whiskey #Pedrostories #Pedro stories #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #Agent Whiskey x you #Agent Whiskey x reader #Agent Jack Whiskey Daniels #Agent Jack Whiskey Daniels x you #Agent Jack Whiskey Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x reader #kingsman fanfiction #kingsman fic #kingsman fanfic #Agent Whiskey fic #Agent Whiskey fanfic #Agent Whiskey fanfiction

[labelma]

all the pain of yesterday

Read on Ao3

When the call comes, it’s a surprise. 

Maybe it shouldn’t be, but it is. 

“Hello, is this Fiona Gallagher?” 

Somehow, Fiona just knows. She doesn’t know how or why, but...

“Yes this is her.” 

The woman’s voice is soft, but clear, there’s quiet murmur in the background, it reminds Fiona of every time she got a call from the police station, the hospital, the school. For a moment, she feels like she’s 21 again, scared, alone, at her wit’s end, trying to hold everything together, scraping by with the skin of her teeth, always one wrong step from a catastrophe. 

There is a split second of silence where Fiona knows this is it. Whatever the woman has to say- there’s no going back from it, as soon as the silence breaks. And it does. 

“This is Brenda at Kindred Hospital South, your father Frank Gallagher was brought in experiencing hypoxia, disorientation and a high fever,” 

This is it 

“We regret to inform you that we did-“ 

This is how it happens

“Everything we could-“ 

Fiona’s blood runs cold, 

“But your father passed away this evening at 8:46 from complications due to Covid-19.” 

She knew it was coming. They all did. Frank had been dancing with death for years, how he had even managed to hold on for so long was beyond her. 

It seemed that Frank’s luck had finally run dry. 

“Would you like to make arrangements? If not we would be happy to help…” 

Fiona isn’t listening. She tells the nurse to do whatever they need to do before hanging up. 

She surprises herself when she feels tears prick the corners of her eyes, and she clenches her jaw. They won’t fall. She won’t cry over Frank. Not anymore. Not ever. 

She takes a moment for herself, a moment to breath, a moment to consider the fact that she’s now lost both her parents, even if she lost them both years ago to drugs, to the bottle, to insanity. 

She takes the briefest moment to grieve what could have been before stopping herself. 

What’s done is done. 

Her parents made their decisions, and she made hers. 

Fiona thinks that at least now Frank and Monica will get to make each other miserable for eternity while they’re burning in the deepest pits of hell. 

Or was it freezing? 

Fiona never paid much attention in church anyway, on those rare occasions they went, usually to sneak bills from the collections plate. 

Phone in her hand, screen still on from the phone call, Fiona realizes she doesn’t know what the next steps are. 

Her instinct is to hop on the L, deal with the situation as it comes, never planning, never even able to plan because of the speed at which things fell apart. Her instinct is to go grab Frank from whatever shithole situation he got himself in, and slap some sense into him. 

But obviously, Fiona couldn’t hop on the L, she was standing in the middle of the street in Chula Vista, California. Gone were the days of running into burning buildings with no forethought. Fiona had her life together. She had a serious job. She wasn’t busy juggling teens and pre-teens anymore. 

And of course, there was no Frank to slap sense into anymore. 

An odd pang twisted Fiona’s stomach at the thought. 

She’s brought back to the presence when someone stumbles into her from behind, 

“Perdóneme,” 

The woman doesn’t look much older than she is, and she’s busy pushing a stroller with one hand, pulling a toddler along with the other. 

Fiona sighs. 

It’s time to face the music. 

She calls her kids. 

<hr>

Arrangements are made. Fiona honestly has very little say in them. 

Frank wanted to be cremated, his family didn’t give nearly a big enough shit to make it fancy. 

He had no possessions of value, nothing to give to his kids other than stained furniture, empty bottles, and trauma.

Really, Fiona is coming back for Liam. 

Fiona was the guinea pig. The oldest daughter, the one who had no one except a wino father and batshit crazy mother to look after her. 

Lip and Ian, born so close together, both so resilient, but still so so young when they first learned the hard way of Frank’s negligence. 

Debbie and Carl, young enough to remember the times before Fiona dropped out of high school and made being a mother to her siblings a full time job. Old enough to remember all the times Frank stole their money, ruined their creations, hurt their very fragile childish feelings. 

But Liam? 

Liam never lived in a world where he had to be raised by Frank of Monica Gallagher. 

And Fiona knows that she wasn’t the best guardian either. She knows that she abandoned him, even though she was the only mother he’d ever known. She knows that she’s done worse things. 

But even when she fucked up, Lip was there to pick it up. And Ian behind him. And now Debbie and Carl are adults too. Liam would be just fine without her in the long run. 

But still. Liam had the good fortune to be born last, young enough to be raised by his siblings, to never feel the sting of abuse and neglect the way the oldest five always had. 

And Frank had always loved Liam, loved him so much. Liam was so kind, maybe even too kind. He loved Frank back, even though they all knew Frank was not deserving of such care from his youngest son. 

So Fiona knew, knew it like she knew herself, that Liam, of all the Gallaghers, was going to be the most devastated. 

And well, she missed her other kids too. 

She hadn’t seen Franny far too long, hadn’t even met Fred. She missed Ian’s wedding, Carl’s graduation from the academy. 

She’d stayed up to date of course, speaking with her siblings on the phone, FaceTiming to see her nieces and nephews, but she knew what it was like in Chicago. If you weren’t there you may as well not exist. 

Fiona liked it that way. 

When her plane had arrived at the San Diego International Airport all those years ago, she almost had a panic attack, nearly booked the next flight back to Chicago. 

It had gotten easier with time. 

For her entire life she’d been so tied to the little house on Wallace, she didn’t know who she was without it. 

It was time to find out. 

And she did. 

She did find out, she found out what she was capable of, she found out how successful she could be, she found out who she was without living her life for her siblings. 

Not that she would ever hold it against them but… She did what she could. It was time for her to live her own life now. 

And for those very reasons, she was terrified of going back to Chicago. 

She was terrified that all the progress, everything she built, all that she’d become, was nothing more than smoke and mist, ready to blow away the minute she arrived in the Windy City. 

Which is why she never visited when Fred was born, or considered flying in to meet him. 

Which is why when she received the surprisingly tasteful wedding invitation to Ian and Mickey Milkovich’s wedding, she regretfully declined. 

She was so scared. 

So scared she would go back and never be able to leave again. 

But some of the fear had worn off over the months. 

Her new life felt less like smoke, and more like a healthy young tree, still growing, but strong enough to weather a storm. 

It was time to return. 

<hr> 

The plane ride feels oddly unceremonious for how anxious Fiona feels. 

She watches as the Southern California coast line disappears from sight as the plane flies eastward, and wonders how she’ll be received when she arrives. 

She doesn’t tell the kids she’s coming for a visit, worried they’ll make a big deal out of it, or worse, do nothing at all. 

Chicago is exactly like she remembers it, and yet nothing like it used to be. Still dirty, windy, freezing, especially after her years spent in the San Diegan sun, but dotted with new boutiques, nicer buildings, fences that don’t look like they’re about to crumble into a pile of dust. 

She has to fight to control her breathing in the Uber back to the old Gallagher house. 

The sight of the sun setting over the familiar buildings of the South Side makes her feel something unidentifiable. 

The house looks much the same as always, if not just a bit nicer due to Lip’s efforts to fix it up. 

She hesitates for just a moment at the front door before turning the handle and walking in, refusing to give in to her doubts. 

The TV is on, as usual. Debbie sits texting on the couch while Franny, much bigger than the last time Fiona saw her lounges on the couch engrossed in the colorful TV show, Carl next to her, also engrossed in the show. 

She hears banging in the kitchen, and she walks towards it to find Lip hammering at the shelving unit, Tami preoccupied with hushing Fred, while Ian and Mickey sit at the kitchen table passing a beer back and forth, talking quietly. 

Fiona is only a little surprised that she hasn’t been noticed yet. She’s quieter than she used to be, and each one of her siblings seems to be in their own little worlds. 

It’s Liam who sees her first as he walks down the stairs, eyes red, looking tired, though his face lights up as soon as his eyes fall on her. 

“Fiona!” 

He runs into her arms, and the tears Fiona has been managing to hold back for days finally fall. She holds her youngest brother, and breathes in the familiar smell of his hair. 

Liam’s shout alerts the rest of the family to her presence, and for a few minutes Fiona is wrapped in hug after hug, feeling laughter bubbling up in her chest. 

It strikes her that even after so long away, she can still read her siblings like a book. 

Lip is tense, she can feel it in the way he hugs her, in the hard set of his features, though Tami seems happy enough. 

Carl and Debbie are both distracted, though the days where she could tell what kind of things they’d be distracted by are long gone. 

Ian looks lighter, happier than she’s ever seen him, and for the smallest moment, she worries that Frank’s death may have thrown him into a manic episode before she notices the way Mickey has his hand firmly planted on his shoulder, and though Fiona was never quite able to trust him in the past, she thinks she does now. 

She holds Franny against her hip, marveling at how heavy she is, while Liam entwines his fingers with hers. 

Fiona gets the sense that she’s missed so much, and yet nothing at all, everyone falling into their familiar roles. 

They settle in with coffee to catch up, Fiona hanging on every word, desperate to soak up everything she’s missed. 

Lip decided not to sell the house in the end, figuring that the value in owning property was worth more than a quick payout which would disappear quicker that you’d think. 

With Ian and Mickey in a new apartment and Frank… gone, the house was quieter, less crowded, a better place to raise two kids, at least until Lip and Tami could afford to move out. 

Debbie had sworn off dating, saying she was sick of dating psycho chicks. Fiona laughs along with her and agrees, dating hasn’t been so kind to her either, but she suspects that Debbie will change her tune when the next person willing to go down on her comes along. She shares that same trait with Debbie, something she’s been trying to work on as she gets older and realizes how fucked up her habits and coping mechanisms are. 

Liam is grieving, and Fiona’s heart aches for him. She cups her hands around his sallow cheeks and as she kisses his face and celebrates when he brushes her off, an embarrassed smile turning up his lips. She knows this is hard on him, Liam being the only Gallagher who truly still cared for Frank in more than just an offhand obligatory way. But she also knows that the hurt will wear off eventually as grief tends to do. Liam is young still, with so so much potential and such a bright future ahead of him. She’s not worried, even if she feels bad for leaving him. 

She tells Liam that before she leaves she’s going to help get him into a good private school. 

He deserves the opportunities none of his older siblings ever had. 

Carl is still Carl, even if he’s trying to be a fine upstanding citizen. Still, she’s so proud he really seems to have made something of himself, even landing a stable union job. 

Ian is happy, so happy, and Fiona lets his infectious joy wash over her. There was a time when Fiona worried for him. Worried he was doomed like Monica. She knew that stats, knew how hard it was for people with bipolar disorder to manage stable relationships, knew the Gallagher history was full of divorces and scorned exes, many of them hers, even without the added bonus of mental illness. When Ian was arrested and sentenced to three to five years in prison, she thought that was the end of any hope he had for a happy ending. 

She’s glad she was wrong. 

She can’t say she’s surprised by the reappearance of Mickey Milkovich in their lives, Mexico and prison be damned. Fiona doubted many things about Mickey, doubted his trustworthiness, doubted his intentions, doubted his stability, and all for good reason in her opinion. But one thing she never doubted was his love for her brother. Well, maybe there were times she doubted it a little, but she’s a cynical person. 

She thinks that Ian and Mickey have the best relationship of any of the Gallaghers, a reality she would have laughed at 5 years ago, but it’s true. 

She hopes that one day she can replicate their success, but she isn’t counting on it. 

Right now she’s just working on learning to accept herself, and all her flaws. 

It’s a process, but she’s getting there. 

<hr> 

Ultimately they decide not to hold a real funeral for Frank, not caring enough to plan one, and thinking Frank probably wouldn’t even want one. 

Instead they congregate in the alley, joined by Kev and V as well as Tommy and Kermit, behind The Alibi to dump his ashes. 

They aren’t so ceremonial, though Liam, with tears on his face does insist on saying a few words. 

The whole ordeal takes no more than ten minutes, and when it’s over, Fiona feels like she can finally breathe. 

Her entire life she was burdened with being her father’s daughter, living under his metaphorical shadow, even when she moved as far away as she could. 

He haunted her every time she had a beer, every time she felt guilt creep in for leaving, every time she felt close to snapping at her new job. 

But now Fiona thinks she can finally let it go, let Frank go, along with all her demons. 

The flight back to feels shorter, or maybe Fiona just feels lighter. Somewhere along the way she stopped seeing Chicago as home, and finds herself eager for San Diego with its sun, beaches, and mountains. Her new home is her little apartment in Chula Vista, so close to Mexico she can cross the border whenever she wants, with her new friends, a new job, and a tan for the first time in her life. 

She isn’t worried about her siblings. Lip is building a life for his new family, Ian is happily married to the love of his life, Debbie is learning and growing, trying to be a good mom to her daughter, Carl has a stable job he loves despite all odds, and Liam is the smartest and most resourceful of all of them. 

They’re going to be just fine. 

And so will she.

#shameless #Fiona Gallagher #gallavich #Ian Gallagher #mickey milkovich #my fic

[us-ugay]

Ugh sorry I’m late to this topic but your office au thing, as a mid-20s office worker, has me losing it. No one hates sales like the ppl who have to execute all the things sales sells that don’t exist yet. I can’t think of anything more infuriating than when sales sells smth and everyone else has to go “cool, we don’t offer that, but I guess we do now.”

Al is the kinda guy who believes in the ppl around him’s ability to make things happen (and also wants his commission check bc that’s how you like. Make rent). He would be GREAT at selling shit to high profile clients and earning the scorn of his coworkers bc he sold smth in the “technically-possible-but-oh-my-god-please-no” category. Arthur doing any sort of implementation work and being a perfectionist who HATES the idea of flopping? He would keep getting stuck w these awful assignments, just the worst clients. The real weirdos who scream at you over Microsoft teams calls. BUT he looks good bc he always deals w it anyway. He gets called a rockstar on slack by his manager. He does NOT get a raise. Everyone says that he and alfred are a great team. They both hate it bc Alfred sells shit they can’t do and Arthur is a pain and keeps making passive aggressive announcements during the sales/implementation sync about how to frame product capabilities to future clients.

They eventually go to a company happy hour and both take FULL advantage of their boss paying. They take the same train line back to their respective homes and talk MAD shit about how it’s so bullshit that HR told them no new hires till next year bc they’re already understaffed. And can you believe that at Brent’s farewell party all ppl were able to say he contributed was “bromance” and yet he’s going to a job where he’s gonna make 6 figures?? He left his projects in a total state of disarray and didn’t even document them properly and now everyone else has to clean up his mess while he and his family take a trip to Disney before he starts at his new cushy salaried job.” I feel like after a few rounds of regular shit-talking they’re screenshotting slack messages and sending them to each other like “WHY did Brenda react to Marc’s announcement that he’s leaving the company w the party emoji, read the room, Marc is the only one on the customer service team who knows ANYTHING and he’s gonna be impossible to replace” and “i just walked by Mikayla’s desk and for some reason she just has a Google images tab open and is just looking at pics of the Kardashian’s. Why.”

Am I projecting? Yes. But also, these scenarios are based on real convos and experiences I’ve had and real office crushes I’ve witnessed. I’ve worked a few office jobs now and I feel qualified. I’m at work now even. I’m an expert in the stupidity of office work.

bro BROOOOO 😭 brooooooooooo i hate this so much but only because i can absolutely see this exact same shit happening at my office

my office always has a yearly christmas party where the higher ups rent out a bar nearby and expect everyone to go even tho its always on a fucking week day from like 4-10 in the afternoon and they get pissed when folks dont go and half of everyone gets shit faced and anyways i wanna join in on this perfect projection so those two? hating each other and getting shit faced at the christmas party but then they both find themselves going the same way home and realize that they can bond over hating everyone else? oh you know those two would go home and bone and then wake up to ww3 when the texts they were forwarding to each other just so happened to be sent to other people as well 👀👀👀

i work compliance and dealing with all the messy bullshit my companys versions of sales reps do is an absolute fucking nightmare and im not even the one dealing with customers or anything like that 😭 i know arthurs a dick but jesus christ he still must have the patience of an absolute saint to where passive aggressive remarks are the worst he does

#you know whats funny is i looked up from my cubicle to talk shit about a fellow coworker #cuz shes always online shopping on her fucking work desktop #and not just on her phone like a civilized adult #and what do i see? #my version of mikayla on the abercrombie and fitch site BROOOOO #anyways back to the christmas prty thing #they literally had it the day after they had the covid booster clinic on our main floor #like no one though to maybe consider that anyone who went and got the booster would be feeling fucking awful the next day #and sure enough i didnt fucking go because i was about to faint in my chair #smh offices are so stupid i hate that our society makes us live like this 😭😭😭

[orionsangel86]

Some of us were just concerned when someone was saying a Network exec was supposedly messaging them on Tumblr and tried proving that with screen shots that proved nothing about the person's identity 👀👀👀. Made me real suspicious and worried about any other sources because I doubted a big network person would spend their time on this hellsite (affectionate). Didn't doubt something weird happened. That much was obvious when the cast tweeted before the finale aired and barely anything afterward other than praising of acting. When the cast is excited about something they tweet DURING the episode and no one did. And the tone and editing of the finale itself was disjointed. Whether writing or network. Fuckery was afoot

Lol yes that was one of the supposed sources I was rolling my eyes at shortly before the finale if I recall correctly. I heard about that one and several others and I know that one of the “big secret sources” turned out to be a troll who was messing with a person. I don’t know anything more about any of that though other than this all confirms what I have been saying from the start - don’t trust people who claim to have secret behind the scenes on set sources with insider knowledge. Sure, maybe occassionally the info might be true, but you are still having to deal with that persons own biases, misgivings, prejudices, etc. A big TV show is gonna have a huge number of people working on it with lots of different opinions and feelings about the show they are working on and the people they work with, just like in any workplace.

It’s like you’re in an office, and Debbie from HR is a huge gossip who just HAD to tell you that Brenda from Accounts is having an affair with Bob from Tech. You go OOOH and spread it around, but later find out that Brenda was just helping Bob with a surprise anniversary present for his wife and Debbie saw him give her flowers and the whole thing blew up... Office whispers are almost always incorrect.

Just because SPN isn’t an office but a TV set, doesn’t mean the gossip is any different. Who knows what about the scripts at any given time, is probably limited to a few trusted people, and any leaks are likely through chinese whispers.

So yeah, I ignore any information coming from “set sources”. I refuse to believe it even if that same source leaked a script, just cos they leaked a script, doesn’t mean they know the inner workings of Dabbs mind or conversations he had with the Network. So when a “source” says the finale script was ALWAYS just the brothers, and Cas was NEVER in it, and Dabb HATES Cas and fandom was played.... I call bullshit and instead wonder what Dabb did to piss off this random employee now leaking info to fans.

So when I say “don’t believe conspiracy theories based on unknown sources and certain people in fandom saying “but you gotta believe me I’m right” I certainly don’t mean “disregard all conspiracy theories about the finale and take everything at face value including that the network didn’t meddle and dabb is to blame for everything”

I thought that was pretty obvious but um... yeah. guess you can’t assume everyone has critical thinking skills. Who knew?

And I KNOW that my post talked a lot about info from M&Gs from March which are technically unknown sources, but this information was all over the place over the summer pre finale and I’m sorry but I feel like M&G information is more reputable that “i have a super secret on set behind the scenes source feeding me insider information but sshhhh dont tell anyone!” Because M&G info is usually verified by several different fans who were there at the time.

I have literally been saying this stuff for months. I am tired. I have never even changed my opinion (other than wavering on Dabb’s role occassionally) so why people are trying to claim otherwise is just really fucking weird. There was 100% some fuckery going on over summer, that lead to that butchered disaster of an episode. The logical explanation is network fuckery plus a lack of care from Singer and Dabb giving up. We will probably never know the truth, but all the circumstances around the finale are really fucking suspicious so no I won’t ever believe anyone who tells me it was always supposed to be that way.

#spn conspiracy theories #dont believe unknown secret sources #its that simple #believe your own eyes and ears #fandom wank #anti spn finale #asks #anon #Anonymous