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janekfan · 3 years

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Chronic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802141

Thank you @taylortut for helping me!!!

Jon looked at the clock.

537.

The glowing numbers burned themselves into his retinas. How had it been less than an hour since last he’d checked? No use for it. Better to get himself up and ready for work. But he’d closed his eyes against the headache blaring like a klaxon and he’d have to open them again at some point.

Taking advantage of his lonely flat, Jon allowed himself to indulge the noise pushing its way through grit teeth as he maneuvered his sore legs from under the quilt. He sat a moment, pressing the bare soles of his feet on the cold floor and levering his heavy body upright with a shaking arm.

Exhausted.

And it’s only--a quick glance.

544.

The hell was wrong with him?

Since just before accepting the position as Head Archivist, and rightly pissing off both Sasha and Tim on her behalf, Jon felt like he’d been constantly coming down with something. Dizzy and nauseous and unable to eat, he was chronically exhausted and while he’d never slept well at the best of times, it was evading him more than ever.

And there were his mornings. Struggling to motivate himself out of bed, brushing his teeth with his eyes closed and leaning against the wall. Deciding he could forgo a shower just once more and choosing instead to make breakfast. Forcing himself to eat a piece of dry toast with his heart hammering away in his throat and half laying on the table, panting through his tea. Mentally, Jon prepared himself for the walk to the train, automatically going for his cane because lord knew he needed the support.

He’d get to the Institute hours early.

At least that made him look good?

Taking advantage of being a cane user, Jon opted for a reserved seat, the guilt at truly needing one eating away at his insides. But there were black spots at the corners of his vision and he had to sit down before he fell down and the guilt is a far sight better than causing a scene. The trip was too short. His chest ached from the constant pounding and he pressed the hand not holding his cane for dear life against his breastbone. It didn’t help but the pressure and touch grounded him enough to stand up. To head to the cross street. To wait for the lights to change. To stagger down the stairs and into his office, to drop into his desk chair and focus on every breath of air moving into his body and back out of it.

Jon put his head down. There was no one here. Wouldn’t be for a couple hours yet and he was exhausted, shaking from it. Nauseated. There wasn’t a fever. He’d gone as far as to purchase a thermometer to be certain when the strange symptoms refused to abate no matter how often he let himself rest, no matter the meals he tried his damndest to eat, the water he drank down. He was trying. Jon couldn’t remember ever taking such good care of himself and of course it refused to pay off. In Uni, he’d driven himself into the ground with little consequence. He’d maintained those habits until a few months ago and now--

Muffled voices drifted through his door, the rise and fall of easy conversation. The kind he’d once been allowed to partake in. Laughter filled the air and while Jon wished to join them he knew he wasn’t welcome.

Why had he done it?

Why hadn’t he refused Elias?

Because you’re selfish. You’ve always been selfish. Needy. Greedy, grasping, always striving to know answers and never satisfied with what you're given. You take what you don’t deserve.

Reluctantly, Jon stood, slowly, because doing anything quickly these days has him ducking his head between his legs or waking up on the floor without any recollection of how he came to be there. He could at least collect their research in person, greet them. Try to be the boss they deserved.

Sasha was the boss they deserved.

“Ah, g’good morning.”

“Jon!” Martin, smiling shyly. “You’re here so early!” He began to stammer and Jon’s legs began to ache. This wasn’t a good day. They seldom were anymore. “I m’mean, of course y’you are, you work very hard!” Martin was saved by Tim swinging an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ve broken ‘im, boss.” A flush rose in Jon’s cheeks. He could feel it. “No worries, Marto. He’s always been an early riser.” While it was said in jest, the tone settled heavy in Jon’s chest, directly beside the pain blossoming like a thorny rose. Luckily, he was rescued by Rosie, standing halfway down the stairs and informing him that Elias requested him in his office. Jon didn’t relish the climb, no matter how grateful he was to escape out from underneath Sash’s heavy gaze. She had every right and he would bear his punishment in silence until she chose, if she ever did, to forgive him.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Jon limped out of Elias’ office without any recollection of what they’d spoken about or if he’d even spoken at all. Thumping pain and panic and he knew he was rude to ignore Rosie at her desk but he wasn’t in any shape to hold a conversation, fairly certain that he wasn’t able to currently speak, far too focused on trying to hide how ill he was. But every sound was magnified tenfold in his ears and he could barely remember where the door to the archives was with the way his head reeled and spun. Jon wanted to sink to the ground once he had the door between himself and the lobby but he’d never make it to his feet again after that. Push through, he told himself. Get to your desk. He allowed himself a moment, two, just to put his head to rights, to try and breathe through the battering of his pulse.

And oh god he wasn’t going to make it and he wondered if somehow Elias knew. It was as though he’d kept him standing there talking about nothing until Jon hit his limit, knowing he wouldn’t have the strength to get back to his office.

But he had to try and he’d almost gotten down the ridiculously narrow stairwell before he forgot nearly entirely why he was there in the first place. Was he going up? Down? Meeting with someone? Just arriving? He could barely breathe and the panic welling in his throat was choking and the black was crawling over his eyes and the dizziness only increased and he needed...needed…

For a moment, Jon didn’t recognize where he was, the migraine, the fuzziness, conspiring against memory and reason. But he knew this color, the hideous lick of paint some contractor had splashed over the walls a lifetime ago.

Breakroom?

Wha--

“Jon!” He winced, his own name like broken glass shredding every sense to ribbons. “Christ, are you alright?” Martin, the sounds he made were shrill, grating, and if he’d been able to tell him to be silent, he would have. “We heard the noise--you’d, you fainted! On the stairs! Luckily it was only the last few.” Jon blinked, dull and dumb, forcing himself up, up, up, and through heavy mist and fog in his search for words. Weary to the marrow of his aching bones, Jon slumped on the cushions and tried to think of a way to stop Martin’s incessant chattering. Tim and Sasha, alerted most likely by all the commotion, stood over him and he craned his neck up to look at them. Tim especially looked furious.

“You could have been seriously hurt!”

“S’sorry…” And he was, between his rabbiting heartbeat, throbbing migraine, and difficulty drawing breath into his exhausted lungs, he wanted to cry with how sorry he was.

“This is ridiculous. You need to take better care of yourself.” Jon wasn’t sure why the sting from Tim’s accusation cut so deep and he hung his head, biting trembling lips to prevent the tears threatening to spring free.

It wasn’t fair.

By all accounts he was taking care of himself. More than ever!

“Did you even eat today? Drink anything?” He nodded, miserable, unwell, and equipped with no better answers than the truth.

“Tim. He’s just come to.” The understanding was the final straw, and Jon’s sight blurred with salt damp. “I’ll make sure he eats something before going back to work.”

“Alright, Martin. If he gives you any trouble, call.” At Jon, he pointed. “And you, no trouble.” And he nodded miserably.

“Okay, they’ve gone.” The familiar sounds of the kettle heating filled the room, the clink of a pair of ceramic mugs, the rustling of the tea bags, Martin’s distracted murmuring, all combined to calm him. “How long have you been feeling this way?” Jon looked up, surprised, and shrugged one shoulder, accepting the small plate of biscuits and nibbling slowly and when he finished those, Martin offered up the tea. Sitting with him in companionable quiet, he sipped on his own cup. Nothing more was exchanged and when Jon finished he thanked Martin for the company and locked himself away.

Jon was at wit’s end. Nothing he tried seemed to improve anything and the few times he did speak with a doctor, he was sent away with the same, useless advice, or worse, told he was imagining things, making it up, having panic attacks even though he was familiar with those and this was not that.

Work was a nightmare made even more miserable with the overwhelming amount of paperwork, statements, boxes, misfiled folders and envelopes and items and Jon missed the easy camaraderie and understanding he’d had with Sasha and Tim. Maybe he should resign, try and salvage what little of the relationship they still had, or, or invite them out for dinner, his treat, but Elias would never let him quit and the very idea of entertaining exhausted him. A cuppa appeared at his elbow filled with something new, something floral and slightly sweet, accompanied, as always, by a few biscuits.

“That’s a lot of work, Jon.” He sipped, grateful, lifting an eyebrow in response.

“I knew it would be when I accepted this position.” Undeterred, Martin stumbled forward.

“Y’yeah, I mean, you would have. Of course. I just--” A breath. “I’ve finished with my other assignments, ready for round, uh. Well, another round!”

“Ah. Alright, I’ll bring something over when I pick up your translations.” Martin took back the cup, nodding enthusiastically, and Jon appreciated that it was business as usual, selecting a few he’d been putting off and making his way toward his assistants ignoring inquiring looks in favor of taking the chair Martin offered up to go over his expectations. Short, succinct. A few notes on one translation, advice to remember for next time, and Jon felt reasonably confident Martin could handle himself. It wasn’t until he’d gotten back to his office that Jon realized that was the first time he’d been offered a chair. It was becoming apparent that Martin was good at noticing the little things about them. A blush heated his cheeks and he tried to rub it away, feeling ridiculous that such a small act of kindness made him feel so seen.

Jon pushed forward, ignoring the warnings his body was trying to give him in favor of plowing through his work like he’d always done, and by the time he made it home, was on the verge of collapse. Hot tears of frustration stung at the corners of his eyes, spilling over when Jon allowed himself to feel it. More than anything, he was used to having control over himself, working when he wanted, burying himself in the research, devouring knowledge. Now he was at the whim of his physical form. Paying more attention to it than ever before and never knowing if he was going to wake up and have a good day or a bad day and it was maddening. Managing whatever it was without knowing what it was, was impossible with no rhyme or reason he could discern.

So in the absence of both, Jon kept shoving his way through how difficult it was because if he could just be normal through pretending everything was normal, then it would be.

Jon knew Tim was cross with him and managed to avoid him for most of the day, taking breaks here and there like he’d promised Martin he would do. But his luck, while it had been holding steady, had just run out and he found himself cornered in the breakroom.

“What do you think you’re on about?” Frustration had long since turned to outrage, boiling over.

“Tim, I. I’m not sure what you mean--”

“Damn it, Jon! You’ve already taken on a job you aren’t fit for! You can’t keep heaping your work onto Martin and then swanning off!”

“That’s.” He balled his hands into fists, nails biting crescent moons into his palms. How could he explain when even the doctors thought he was making it all up? Heat rushed through him, top to toe, flushing his face and he wavered, legs threatening to buckle, vision threatening to go dark. He was going to pass out a second time today if he didn’t sit down. But that would mean walking away from Tim, and he didn’t think the man would let him. At least not until he was done telling him off. Better to be silent. Try not to pay attention to how erratic the persistent beating caged behind fragile ribs had become.

“Why didn’t you say no?” Because he wanted to be useful. Because Elias made him feel like he was capable even if he wasn’t. “Why didn’t you just let Sasha have this?” Because he was an awful, selfish person. “God, Jon. Why did you drag us all down here with you?”

Because he was lonely.

Because they’d been friends. Once.

Rather than remind Tim that he was free to go at any time, that he and Sash hadn’t been forced or coerced into accepting positions here in the archives, Jon pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Well?!” Sharp, strident, Tim’s shout echoed around in the space between his own hurting, agonal breaths in his ears.

“I. I, I need to si’down…” wanted to lay down. Wanted to sleep, trembling with exhaustion, about to go down.

“What?” Lashes fluttering as he gripped the thread of consciousness with both hands, he barely registered Tim’s hands around his shoulders, guiding him into a chair and pushing his head down between his knees. “Jon?”

“M’okay…”

“You are clearly not.” A wide palm settled on his back, keeping him folded over. It was helping.

“S’mm...been. S’fine.” The floor came back into focus, all the little cracks and imperfections and Jon counted the streaks in the pattern in an attempt to ground himself but kept losing track of the number. Neither moved until Jon attempted to sit up, slowly, accepting Tim’s help.

“Jon?” He looked spooked, pale. “Please, what’s going on?” His hand settled in the crux of shoulder and neck, thumb ghosting along his clammy skin, and Jon allowed himself to find a morsel of comfort in the familiar gesture, the threat of tears closer than ever. So he reached for him.

“I don’t know.” And Tim pulled away as if burned, the frustration and anger rising in his face again, and Jon was bereft. “T’truly! I--”

“Why won’t you be honest with me? Don’t you trust me?” Standing, he took a step backwards, away from him, the hurt in him a palpable thing. “We’re supposed to be friends!”

Yes. They were friends. It was most likely why for the first time in a long while, the pain in his chest wasn’t a physical ache.

“Tim, I.” Fingers folded to fists to rest on his knees. But he was already gone.

“Jon!” Tentative, Martin lifted his chin. “Oh, oh.” Having been crying, Jon figured his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and he didn’t bother attempting to hide the evidence. “Alright.” Martin went about making tea, chamomile, herbal and calming, placing it before him on the table with a chocolate digestive. “Drink this down and then go home. It’s half six.”

“Mm.”

“Sleep will help.”

“Mm.”

“I could speak to them for you. If--”

“No!” All but shouted. “No. That won’t be necessary, Martin.” Carefully he stood, paused. “Thank you.” And left.

Jon called off.

Called off again.

Again.

Apologized to Elias in a curt email requesting leave and was granted it.

He ignored his phone. His texts. The knock at the door and Martin’s voice behind it. He slept when he was tired and he was tired often and it was easier besides, to finally listen to the screaming of his body. It was after hours on his fifth day gone when Tim let himself in with the spare key to Jon’s flat.

“Hey.” Sheepish, he held up his hands in surrender, a bag of takeaway from Jon’s favorite place dangling from one. “Martin said you wouldn’t let him in.” Dressed in the most comfortable clothes he had, which were also the shabbiest, Jon glared at him from where he laid on the couch. “I was an arse.” Slowly, he sat up, making Tim wait on purpose, a powerful frown still aimed in his direction.

“You were.” He was aware he looked a mess, greasy hair pulled back in a sloppy bun, but he felt a sight better for the rest he’d gotten.

“Would you accept an apology?” Folding his arms, Jon leaned back into the cushions and fixed his stare at whatever rubbish was on the telly.

“Might do.” Silently, Tim scurried into the tiny kitchen and Jon listened to the familiar sounds of him rooting around for cutlery. It smelled delicious and comforting, a reminder of nights spent together laughing at nothing on this same couch and despite himself, Jon began to relax.

“I’m sorry.”

“Alright.” Tim’s face split in a wide, relieved grin, and he flopped down next to him, planting a loud kiss to his temple before urging him to eat. “Martin sent you here.”

“An angry Marto is not to be trifled with.” Through a mouthful of noodles, Tim chuffed in laughter. “Wouldn’t tell me anything, other than to stop being a prick.”

“He did not.”

“He did not. But it was more than implied!” He put his bowl on the low table in front of them, sitting forward with his hands dangling between his knees. “And he was right. I didn’t give you a fair shake and accused you of awful things. And I know you’re doing your best at this job.”

“Gertrude isn’t making it easy.”

“Neither is your health, I take it.” Jon set his own meal aside, curling into the padded arm.

“No. It isn’t.”

“And you don’t know what’s causing it?”

“I know some things that help. M’Martin has been invaluable.”

“Has he, now?”

“Leave off!”

“Okay, okay.” But he continued giggling as Jon felt his face go hot, muttering.

“He really has.” This time Tim pulled him gently into an embrace.

“Then Sash and I will just have to catch up.”

#tma #the magnus archives #jon sims #tim stoker #martin blackwood #sasha james #cane user jon sims #archivist with a cane #chronic illness #undiagnosed #pots #fainting #exhaustion #anxiety #hurt/comfort #internalized ableism

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yarrowleef · 4 years

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Read Darkness Within all in one sitting last night and then passed out so here are my scattered thoughts i wrote down as i read, (afterthoughts in parenthesis)

Darkness Within Spoilers, obv

UGH GOD THE SECOND HAND EMBARRESMENT FROM SQUIRREL FAKE FLIRTING WITH ASHFUR IT HURTS

Just remembered Sandynose died and got a small boost of happiness (will Hawkwing and Plumwillow ever be allowed to talk again now? I mean probly not b/c they aren’t protags and non-protags don’t rly have friends but I can hope. Sorry, Hawkwhing and Plumwillow’s short-lived friendship in Hawkwings Journey was one of the last times I felt something)

Ghost fleas lol

Mothwing: i’m rude now. (but more importantly, Fuck Tigerheartstar for forcing his son to be around the cat that hurt him so badly, like he HAS to know how upset everyone is regarding Shadowsight and his accidentally helping the imposter, and he’s making him be the sole one to tend to him??? There is NO REASON Puddleshine couldn’t have done it. You think Puddleshine is going to try and murder someone?? )

Oh no don't make this a traveling book, and a ROOTBRISTLE traveling book this is going to be insufferable

BACON AND EGGS

Lightleap Is Good (Hey didn’t Shadowsight have another sister? lets be real we all knew Pouncekit was going to end up as the forgettable 3rd one)

Bristlefrost’s crush continues to feel unnatural to me. It’s like she’s grasping at straws romanticizing the most generic things.....wow....I love how ur just so...bare minimum competent....being polite to the loner we came all this way to ask for help like any somewhat reasonable person would....How admirable...I love the way you just *clenches fist* exhibit some basic traits of loyalty and skill that literally every warrior has (I s2g I’m this close to head canon-ing Bristle as a clueless aromantic who doesn't understand what romance is actually suppose to feel like so she just looks at feelings of low-bar admiration and assumes “oh I guess this is that “romantic attraction” everyone’s always talking about? guess I must be in love???” because both her crushes have felt out of nowhere and like. Idk fake/forced sounding like she’s just telling me that that she’s In Love Now while I continue to not actually feel it at all from her end. I know it’s just that I hate the way Erin’s write female characters in love but this head-canon makes me laugh)

Got scared because I thought they were going to villainize Spotfur for not wanting kits for a minute, but also excited at the concept of maybe exploring a female character that doesn’t want to be a mother, but it turns out she was just pulling a Sparkpelt and actually DID want the kits all along and was only hesitant because she’s sad. Shrug oh well. (the only female character in warriors that was distinctly upset about pregnancy and motherhood was Lizardstripe and as we all know she was eeeeeevil and abusive and “overly ambitious” because why else would you not come around to being happy about motherhood?? YES I’M STILL SALTY ABOUT YELLOWFANG’S SECRET, BAD BOOK) Whatever it’s fine so long as Spot doesn’t lose her rebel leader spirit forever and default to “soft mom” personality for the rest of her life, I gotta have hope because I actually like Bristle and Spot’s current relationship. Also I am actually very grateful they never made Bristle resentful at Spot for getting with her crush, as lots of middle grade/YA media has a very bad habit of demonizing female romantic “competition” and its super gross, so I rly do like that Bristlefrost is so protective and caring towards her instead. )

This series is trying to tell me that Rootspring is actually Big but I refuse to accept that. he has dumb scrawny bitch energy and we all know it

Sunrise: “Thunderclan may be better with a new leader” lol go off (i mean........they right tho...It’s unfortunate that the tension in this whole plot is a bit dampened by the fact that i DO in fact want bramble to die v badly. I don’t even have special hatred for him, I’m just bored of him.)

Yes Lionblaze beat the shit out of Ashfur

*HOLY SHIT THAT’S FUCKED!!!! (I wrote this in reference to the ghost summoning scene, this was all I could manage at the time, that scene was WILD and I am VIBING WITH THE HORROR OF IT ALL)

* Brashfur: Oh yeah? Could Ashfur fake THIS? *stands up with slightly better posture* Shadowsight: oh damn you got me there...... (asdfhhfhhgh im sorry that was really funny, how did that prove anything?? ONLY A ~REAL~ WARRIOR COULD STAND UP STRAIGHT WE ALL KNOW ASHFUR IS INCAPABLE OF GOOD POSTURE!)

End of the book: *LAUGHING NERVOUSLY* WHAT THE FUCK??? (I thought he was just gonna kill Squirrelflight right there holy shit can you imagine the RIOTS that would ensue in the wake of all this Squirrel/Bramble discourse I was so scared for a second.

But it’s fine, she just....went to super hell instead......Warriors has come so far lmao WHAT IS HAPPENING

Final Notes:

*On Mothwing, I don’t think her behavior struck me as “CHARACTER BUTCHERING” as much as it did for other people? I mean.....Warriors fans will say that literally any time a character does ANYTHING less then perfectly nice I think her actions just seemed that much harsher because we are reading from Shadowsight’s POV, and Shadowsight is taking everything 10x more personally right now (understandably so, but Mothwing isn’t inside his head) she wasn’t trying to hurt him. Also... like... Shadowsight DID get his name too early. It’s not Mothwing’s job to put his feelings above everything else, she’s not even his mentor, Puddleshine on the other hand, as his main mentor, I don’t understand what his deal is ignoring Shadowsight, that’s not how you help an apprentice but I suppose I chalk many of his mistakes up to also not being the most experienced medicine cat (he barely even had his own mentor.) Maybe he’s distant because he feels guilty and actually blames himself for not guiding Shadowsight better?? the two of them haven’t communicated about it yet so idk

any way I give Mothwing a pass to be a little short tempered right now as a cat who has had her abilities periodically questioned all her life no matter how hard she works or how much experience she has, just because she doesn’t vibe with the spiritual cult side of the clans, I can understand why she’s a bit defensive of being questioned and frustrated watching so much hurt happen Yet Again due to reliance on StarClan visions over common sense, and I for one still stan her for slandering StarClan and refusing to accept Mistystar’s bullshit banishing like everyone else. Sometimes a character is at the end of their rope and can’t manage to be 100% nice 24/7 and that’s maybe not inherently bad writing? idk just my hot take. At a certain point we all gotta reckon with the fact that our perception of most popular supporting characters in heavily colored by fanon and we can’t always get mad at the authors for not adhering to it

*The sisters magic shit is my fav worldbuilding warriors has had in AGES, I love the way it’s described and it actually feels like it adds something to this world. I love this horror imagery with the ghosts, very excited for that.

*still won’t be thrilled if Ashfur is working alone, because his motive doesn’t make sense right now. I mean the trying to get Squilf thing, sure, whatever, but the “I will make everyone pay for what they did to me”???? cause like?? Who??? they didn’t do anything to him?? Ashfur’s grievance was very specifically JUST Squilf. He has no other cause for revenge, he had no other beef or complaints about the clans to my knowledge? The cat that killed him is dead, and she’s like, the only other one that I could see as having “wronged” him?? I guess he also didn’t like Firestar much according to Graystripe’s Vow (and on account of how willing he was to kill him w/ Hawkfrost) but Firestar is ALSO dead. I don’t understand his angle. Will have to see last 2 books to judge i suppose.

*All in all I am interested to see where this is going!! but also the pacing as I feared is becoming a major issue. It’s better then ending the main conflict on book 3 like Vision of Shadows did, but omg. Hardly anything happened in all these pages. I realized I was over half way through and nothing about the situation had actually CHANGED or advanced at all in all that time. Similar to the past 2 books which I believe could have been combined, this plot felt like it should have been the first half of a book. Discussing whether or not to kill the imposter isn’t much of a standalone plot, it’s just the set up to a plot. Finding the sisters didn’t need to be a whole long thing, the debates about the Imposters fate didn’t need to be repeated 10 times, all those chapters illustrating that “Shadowsight is sad” were also drawn out, repetitive, and interchangeable, we probably only needed 2 or so chapters showing his struggles to get the necessary information across. It felt like a lot of padding, it was really slow and I did a lot of skimming. I am still very interested in the overarching plot and mystery behind the ghosts so that kept me reading but man this “will they won’t they kill him” plot did not justify it’s own whole book. Alas this is a persisting issue that will never be resolved while they continue to force 6 books into 1 series that doesn’t need 6 books. I’m sure the writers are doing the best they can with these unfortunate constraints but still, it’s a wonder this slow padding isn’t more of a detriment to their younger readers that the books are supposed to be marketed to.

#warrior cats #the broken code #darkness within #the darkness within #darkness within spoilers #wc tbc #tbc #is that enough tags #yarrow speaks #wc criticism #long post #the broken code spoilers #warrior cats spoilers

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allybeardsleycamoshirt · 4 years

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50 questions

I was tagged by @fineosaur thanks dear this was entertaining

what is the colour of your hairbrush? bright orange

name a food you never eat? I do not love fish despite being from a place well known for seafare. pass.

are you typically too warm or too cold? cold all the time, baby. i will lose circulation in my toes for no goddamn reason

what were you doing 45 minutes ago? hopping off a zoom call and clocking out of work early

what's your favourite candy bar? probably almond joys

have you ever been to a professional sports game? yeah but nothing major league because I’ve never cared about sports enough for someone to bring me to one. I went to local minor league games sporadically as a kid.

what is the last thing you said out loud? I probably have talked out loud to myself and forgot but the last thing I said to someone else was “bye have a good tour” to my coworker

what is your favourite ice cream? i had the best ice cream i’ve ever had this summer and it was burnt honey with pear and ginger. but that’s fancy shit. if we are talking what I keep in the freezer then probably dairy free cookies and cream. or matcha mochi.

what was the last thing you had to drink? i’m drinking throat-coat tea rn bc ~*~*I might be getting sick*~*~

do you like your wallet? well enough. it was a graduation gift (high school graduation, so I’ve had it quite a while). it was more my style then than now but I have no reason to get something new.

what is the last thing you ate? lunch: leftover dal and roti that I made last night

did you buy any new clothes last weekend? nope. I need to get rid of some clothes before I buy anything. tis the season for turning out my closet. I’ve also been trying to only do online, secondhand shopping OR buy sustainable/organic/ethical clothing when I can

what's the last sporting event you watched? I haven’t the faintest idea lol I really really dislike sports. I think I was actively watching some world cup matches while I was in spain two summers ago.

what is your favourite flavour of popcorn? something cheesy and/or herbal

who is the last person you sent a text message to? my mom! she just texted me that she was watching New Moon and analyzing every line which is literally my favorite hobby

ever go camping? I used to as a kid but now I prefer to air bnb instead of roughing it when I hike and honestly it’s more because I love air bnbs than a dislike of camping of any kind

do you take vitamins? I try to remember to take a skin/hair/nails supplement. lately i’ve been taking vitamin c and zinc to ward off illness but idk if that’s working out

do you regularly attend a place of worship? nah i don’t even do it irregularly

do you have a tan? no. even when I do it can barely be considered a tan. I am so white I’m nearly translucent, I freckle out in the summer and burn when I’m less lucky

do you prefer chinese or pizza? chinese!!! although I appreciate a well-made pizza very much.

do you drink your soda through a straw? I don’t drink soda

what colour socks do you usually wear? usually black but I have lots of multicolored wool socks as well

do you ever drive above the speed limit? yes but not very much, speeding makes me anxious

what terrifies you? idk man. everything and nothing all at once

look to your left, what do you see? my bedside table. it’s refurbished to the original wood and used to belong to my great-grandfather. it currently houses my tea, a lamp, various lotions, a scrunchy, gold hoop earrings, hair scissors, and a tv remote

what chore do you hate most? probably taking out the trash. or scrubbing the tub because it never pays off as well as I want it to

what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? Australia...lol sorry dumb b*tch answer

what's your favourite soda? I don’t really drink soda - it was a weird, furtive decision I made as a 7 year old never to drink it because I vaguely knew it wasn’t good for you...and also I didn’t like carbonation. now I’ll drink it in a cocktail I suppose, or I’ll drink non-American sodas just for the experience

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? drive thru. damn i want fries

what's your favourite number? 7!

who’s the last person you talked to? my coworker

favourite cut of beef? idk really but fancier cuts are nicer to cook with in general

last song you listened to? I Know A Place - MUNA. can’t get enough of that one recently. gay girl bands only.

last book you read? I just finished Saturday by Ian McEwan

favourite day of the week? one where I am not working

can you say the alphabet backwards? I can do the first bit but then i lose interest

how do you like your coffee? english breakfast tea, one sugar and a dash of almond milk

favourite pair of shoes? my birkenstocks

time you normally get up? 6:50 on weekdays, not much longer on weekends

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? I haven’t seen enough sunrises to really make a decision. perhaps sunsets because they are more accessible to me lol

how many blankets on your bed? one thick duvet, throw blankets on top as needed

describe your kitchen plates? most of them are white and square

describe your kitchen at the moment? slightly more kept than usual

do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? cider and natural wine are my go-to. but lately i love a homemade aperol spritz. and a gin & tonic anywhere is great

do you play cards? not consistently but yes. I get very competitive but also it takes me a long time to grasp a new game

what colour is your car? burnt orange

can you change a tire? I’ve never done it myself but I think I know how to?? I could probably figure it out. however I probably wouldn’t try to do it myself unless I was totally stranded

your favourite state? Maine - my home state/where I live. Maybe I’d like Washington/Oregon more but I haven’t been yet

favourite job you've had? running a women’s/gender resource center

im gonna tag: @thelandofnothing @lightninginabottle0613 @go-catch-a-chickn @greeneyedwildthing

#tag game #me

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

Supervisor makes me pull 1500+ lbs main power wire by myself, you break your shoulder and lose your job.

Hey reddit, this is my first post so bear with me, I know it's a long one so I apologize, im on mobile

Abriviations: Me = Me (obviously)

SRS = Self righteous supervisor

FCW = friendly coworker

Some context

I work as an electrician, I had done so for over a year before leaving the state for a few months to sort out some family things, once I returned home I got my old job back. By the time I had returned to the company they had grown quite a bit. Lots of new faces and lots of new assholes to avoid.

So the first day came and I arrived on time (also note I spoke to the owner of the company. Good friend and asked him what I should bring for the days work, no reply, my own fault I came unprepared, and underdressed because I wasn't given a uniform yet,but anyway) as i pull up to the job i realize I'm the first one there, so i wait in my car listening to some music while eating my breakfast. Now the jobs normally start at 7am sharp. 8 o'clock finally rolls around and I see someone with the company attire, I go up to him and introduce myself

Me: "Hey I'm my name I'll be starting work with you guys today, nice to meet you"

FCW: "Hey! Yeah we were told you were coming, do you have any tools with you?"

Me: "a few hand tools, I want given a tool list by boss I tried to ask but got no reply, my bad"

FCW: no problem! Do you know how to wire up florescent lights?

Me: "sure do!"

FCW: "perfect let's get you started on that!"

So I was going about my business wiring up all the florescent lights that have been put up, minding my own headphones in nose, to the grind stone. Enter SRS.

So there I am doing my job, and quite efficiently to I might add when SRS seemingly sneaks over to me, jumps on the side of the lift I'm currently working on (which breaks the oasis codes btw) And pulls the headphones out of my ears, which obviously hurt and was quite surprising. He begins to talk and things go like this

SRS: "FIRST OFF, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING SECOND WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING AND THIRDLY WHO THE FUCK TOLD YOU TO DO THIS?"

I was shocked and told him it was my first day back with the company, I hadn't gotten my uniform yet so I had to come in simple clothes, I explained that I wasn't told what tools I would need so I that's why I was unprepared. He proceeds to tell me to get down off the lift, I do. At the same time the GC (general contractor) for the whole job walks in (nice guy)

As I'm getting my ass chewed out for being unprepared he sees the GC and gestures him to come over, he does. As he arrives the SRS starts to insult me I front of him saying how unprofessional I looked and how stupid I must have been for coming in like this.

At this point the GC looks quite uncomfortable, the GC makes an excuse to leave the conversation but not before to get off one more thing

SRS: "anyway I'll fix this issue right now" Hr turns to me and says SRS: "get the fuck of my job site and come back when your an actual worker"

So I did, I called up my boss and he chewed him out. I rolled back up to the job a few minutes later happy to see the FCW smiling to see me back. I was left alone for most of the day, but as the week progressed things would get worse and worse. At one point he came in furious not particularly at me just because he's a absolute f***face with 0 patience. Anyway, he comes in with a large tool back with lots of random things, then he stops look at me, he the. THROWS the back at the floor, spilling everything all over a floor I just swept, turns back to me and says

SRS: "clean it up"

I was doubfouned standing there with my jaw open, he walks away with not a single f given, I turn to FCW and he's just looking at me shocked as well, that was the last straw for me, I'm a good worker and I do my job well, I work overtime constantly and do not need this kind of treatment so I decided to make myself feel better about my job situation by screwing with SRS as much as possible.

So for the next week I would take small tools or parts he was using while walking away and throw them into the work trailer, as this kept happening and since he had no idea where his tools were going he was buying new screwdrivers it seemed like every day. On top of that he began to steal spools of wire of the job and put into his truck to resell, I took pictures of him doing so and saved them for later, also got a few videos of him nearly attacking other companys workers for being "to loud with the Mexican music" (f****** prick)

So Friday finally rolls along and its main feed day, now I'd you don't know about how underground electric works you might not fully grasp how difficult it is to pull by yourself... it's very hard.

The wires arrive 6 hours late, we start pulling at 2am, (we were supposed to be off at 2 today with full 8 hour pay, we worked late that day) As everything gets put on rollers and the feeds get lead I see SRS standing by the pulley doing nothing but waiting for me to get everything ready, I don't say anything and just do it. Now he has an electric pulley powered by a small remote. Now me on the other end is pushing in all this 600 wire (the spools are bigger than me and over 1500 lbs each) after over 3 hours of me nearly killing myself with no breaks cuz he wouldn't take his damn hand off the button. Eventually he walks over to me to complain about how slow I was at feeding it to him, I told him if would have helped me it could have went faster. He. No. Likey.

SRS: "ARE YOU SERIOUSLY SUGGESTING THAT I HELP YOU WITH YOUR JOB? WHAT ARE YOU GOOD FOR IF YOU CANT EVEN DO THE ONE JOB I GIVE YOU ITS NOT HARD JUST FEED THE F'ING WIRE YOU DUMB F***"

I. WAS. FURIOUS.

I took a deep breath and simply took it on the chin. Sorta. Kinda. Not really. As he was going over back to his truck he was walking by the wire spools when he slipped on some wet cardbord I had been using to put my knees on causing him to slip and rall into the spool and hit the large bolts attached to the side. I could visibly see it was out of place. Ouch. I felt no pity. Seeing him wriggle on the floor in pain for a few seconds before helping him back up was very satisfying. Got him in his truck and he left, probably to the doctors I'm guessing.

After the week was over I drove over to the management office to speak with my boss, I told him about how SRS has been treating me the other employees, others, and even the GC, constantly giving everyone shit about anything he could. He was not happy and told me he would look into the matter, a few days later I found out he was trying to sue the company for his arm getting hurt on the job saying he was hurt by all the wire I pulled in, like i had some impact on his lack of balance. my boss came back at him with the evidence of him stealing from the company and nearly costing him jobs, he dropped the idea of suing and was gone the next day. I got a raise 😁😁

(source) story by (/u/Sub_StandardSpace)

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

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