#rather than how high up the corporate ladder i am.

[vaeolus]

honestly im just so happy about my work life rn. yeah i turned down an opportunity to move it forward, but my boss was so understanding and made it very clear the position is mine if/when i decide im ready.. its a relaxed environment with very few customers per shift so i can really connect and help people.. i get to kill time however i want between customers.. my work life doesnt affect my home life at all and im never stressed to go into work.. its nice after two years of taking work Super Fucking Seriously !!

#i guess if i could ask for anything id just. maybe want my mom to start defining my success by my happiness #rather than how high up the corporate ladder i am. #it gets so frustrating to talk to her about work when i know she just thinks im failing or falling behind #the curse of having an er nurse for an older sister i guess. higher expectations for the high school dropout #but! if thats the biggest thing i have to complain about work! i have it pretty good!

[scarletttries]

Roman Roy x Age-Gap! Reader Headcanons:

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Word Count: 2k (warning: mention of Logany child abuse)

Author’s Note: Oh Roman Roy, you're really making me fall in love with your sad little face and your slightly softening heart this season. Thank you for this request, please enjoy these thoughts about Roman Roy with a younger, but still very much legal adult, reader. Also please fill my inbox with Kendall and Roman requests because I am thinking about little else! 😊

Update! Part two here 😀

- Roman Roy has always felt simultaneously like he's never really grown up, and that he was never allowed to be a child. Growing up as the youngest son of Logan Roy he wasn't allowed the chance to make the silly mistakes of childhood folly. Logan had been through that before and frankly he needed Roman to be a serious adult from the moment he could comprehend his father's disapproving glare. Naturally this was an impossible ask of a small, sensitive boy, and led to blows to back of the head when tears threatened to stain the silk shirt he'd been so uncomfortably forced into for another endless press event where he stood like a prop, just desperate not to get in any more trouble or let his dad down worse than he already had.

- As Roman entered adulthood he began to be left out of all the rooms where serious people met and talked about things he could never quite get right; he's wasn't self-interested enough, he didn't have those killer instincts, he couldn't rid his head of the thoughts of how many people would be affected by the company's every move. As Logan and Kendall started to tire of his quippy comments, relegating him to waiting outside for busy work, he could feel himself struggling to meet the thresholds of adulthood that Ken seemed to have carried with him for as long as Roman could remember. This dichotomy of boy and man left Roman feeling like he was never quite comfortable with his age, unsure what lense to see that number through. And then he met you.

- Getting a job at Waystar may have left you feeling a little morally uncomfortable, but you reminded yourself that ten years experience there and you'd be able to get any job in any industry you like, while also being able to pay for your own place. So you pushed that feeling down each day as you entered that office full of rich old white men. Given you'd actually had to earn your place there, rather than just knowing someone, it wasn't long until your work ethic, intelligence and ingenuity had you climbing the corporate ladder in your department and getting you noticed by some of the much higher-ups. Naturally they tried to just take credit for your work, but when the day came that Logan actually asked for an explanation of a report you'd produced, Frank had no choice but to put you in a room with the big boss face-to-face.

- You'd heard nothing but bad things about Logan Roy and as he stared at you in pure contempt while you answered his questions, wondering why his time was being wasted with this young thing from the bullpen, it took all your resolve to hold your nerve, giving short answers and trying not to give him anything to hold over you. Every so often you'd let your eyes flick over his shoulder to the man standing behind him, ten years older than you but pulling at the sleeves of his shirt like a little kid as he watched you face the interrogation, outwardly seeming far more nervous about the situation than you did. After fifteen minutes of watching you hold your head high and speak so confidently about your work, Roman was staring at you unashamedly in a mix of awe, intrigue and disbelief. Despite the age gap you seemed to have all the facets of a self-assured adult that he felt he'd never quite unlocked, while exuding the joyful exuberance of youth he'd never been allowed. He needed to know more about you, so when Logan shouted at Gerri to 'throw you in a dress and bring to this week's investor mixers' he could feel his heart pounding in his chest at the sheer hope and possibility of the answers you might hold.

- You weren't thrilled to spend your evenings surrounded by colleagues, stood to attention in case anyone needed a question answering, but you didn't hate the full railing of designer evening wear that had been sent to your apartment for the occasion. You found yourself trying to blend into the shadows of a corner, unsure of your place in this room and this crowd, wondering if any of the food on display was actually for eating, or if that would be seen as a massive faux pas. Luckily Roman had been keeping an interested eye on you all evening; who you'd spoken to, what you'd been dressed in, the frankly adorable face you'd pulled when Frank handed you a Whiskey twice your age and you took a very unwilling sip, feigning appreciation before slinking away to stick your tongue out at the burning taste. And finally he built up the nerve to approach you now that you were alone, trying to approach casually by picking up a grape from the ornate platter beside you, only to take a bite, realise it was plastic and having to hand it mortified to a waiter that had watched the whole thing from your side. He could feel the blood burning in his cheeks as he watched you try and stifle a laugh, both mortified that you already knew he was a fool and pleased that he'd been able to bring a smile to your face this evening.

"Yeah yeah fuck you." He laughed as he stopped just in front of you, all the words he'd planned to share failing him now that he was close enough to see the beauty in your sincere smile as you shook your head,

"Really I should thank you, now I'm one step closer to figuring out what's actually edible here." You replied with a warmth that almost made Roman recoil, so used to the icy chill he usually received from those around him.

"Well certainly not that whiskey." He nodded to the short crystal glass you'd been trying to put down since Frank handed it to you, tone sarcastic but without the cutting edge he was usually one to deliver. "Why is that the one thing these old fucks actually like to be their own age?" As you laughed again Roman felt a little victorious, he had set himself a pretty low bar but he was confident he was going to be the highlight of your evening.

- As you spent the next week being dragged to different events, you'd always find Roman slinking to your side before the night was through, as if you'd always been old friends, just counting down the hours of everyone else's company. You'd counter his one-liners and then ask him where he'd rather be on a Friday night and make him realise he didn't really know any other kind of night. So when you'd list off your weekend plans, and hobbies and interests, and tell him stories about your friends that had his hyena laugh echoing across the otherwise solemn room, he'd start to realise just how much he was missing out on, and how much he wanted to explore that with you as his guide.

- It stopped being enough, just finding you on odd evenings. Roman would start finding your desk at Waystar, pretending to just be wandering through a junior office coincidentally. He'd glance at his wrist, ignoring the fact he'd forgotten to put on a watch this morning, and comment that as 'technically kind of your boss' he needed to make sure his best employees were actually taking a lunch break, and also were you hungry? Sometimes during the day he'd just melt onto the floor beside your desk, chatting about nothing as you tried your best to type and pay him the attention he so desperately craved. He'd start having all of his meetings in the rooms on your floor so he could wave at you as he walked past the huge glass windows keeping your team contained, an apt metaphor for the walls up inside him he was worried you'd never cross.

- Poor insecure Roman, he'd really try and force himself to ask you out, but ultimately he'd be so afraid of the potential backlash of rejection, that it would be up to you to finally ask if he wanted to grab a drink after work, one Friday when he'd been particularly clingy. You'd take him to a fun, casual bar and watch his eye's light up at people playing darts or ordering fried food and generally the nice, relaxed atmosphere where he didn't feel he had to be the smartest person in the room. Occasionally a friend of yours would walk in a wave and ask how you were doing, and you'd introduce Roman as your friend with no shame or regret and he'd say something funny and get the same rush of pride at making you laugh that he did the first time, and he'd feel like maybe the more time he spent getting to know you, the better he could see himself, still young at heart but not the kid he once was. His lost childhood and misspent youth given a second chance as you offered to see him again next weekend.

- Once you open the affectionate floodgates Roman would be the clingiest koala you can imagine. He'd rarely be as direct as holding your hand, especially not in public, conscious of looking just like his father with a younger woman on his arm. But in the privacy of your little apartment, the one Roman fell in love with the moment he saw it, he'd take a slightly threadbare throw and toss it over the both of you as he all but crumbled into your lap when he wanted to talk about something he thought would make you run. Opening up about his father's wrath and his warped view of himself, glancing up periodically to check you hadn't ran away and left him behind, finding softness in your eyes instead of disappointment and sinking even more deeply into you.

- Roman would think you are an absolute fucking genius for everything you've done for yourself. Worked hard to be the best at your job? Genius. Manage your own bills and do your own laundry? Genius. Carry a water bottle around and make him drink some when he has a headache and somehow he feels better than he has in years? Genius.

- Roman would follow you to hell and back, but you'll have to forcibly remove him from your apartment when you want to go outside. He's never been somewhere that actually felt like home, every soft furnishing and mismatched bowl making him want to haunt your halls forever. If you ever make him a home cooked meal, he'll act like it's not a big deal, but honestly he's crying inside that anyone would go through the effort for him, and that he was the person they chose to be around. Cut to him going thrifting with you to buy five new dishes for you to cook in next time, plus anything else you like.

- Occasionally you'll successfully get him outside for a hike, or a walk, or even a day at a museum or arcade; and Roman will go full toddler on you. Pointing at everything excitedly, running around and shrieking, making sure he was your undivided attention and dragging you by the hand to look at everything. By the time you're home you're ready to collapse, only to notice Roman surreptitiously placing a little souvenir somewhere on your shelf, sneakily bought from a gift shop while you were in the bathroom, before pretending he has no idea how it got there.

- Roman is so enraptured by the incredible, rounded human-being that you are, that eventually some of your self-belief would start to rub off on him, making him feel more sure of himself than he ever has before. Thinking less about the approval of others (except you, he still desperately wants that), feeling confident in his ideas, and no longer feeling like he's stuck in Peter Pan mode - despite falling for someone ten years his junior, Roman would finally feel like he was becoming the man he was always supposed to be, thanks to you.

Let me know if you want a part two of this!

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #roman roy angst #roman roy fluff #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #roman roy #succession imagine #succession hbo #succession #succession headcanons #roman roy headcanons #succession roman

[aldcaldos]

just a bunch of Vex Facts™ that have been bouncing around my brain for a while

grew up a kabuki street kid, pickpocketing anyone she could get her grubby little hands on and sharing the pot with a small group of other kids who she ran tiny cons with

she and said group of street rats holed up in an old abandoned, almost collapsed apartment building

she has no contact with any of them in the present, some moved away, others disappeared when they were still young, and the rest....who knows?

became a joytoy and a dancer when she was definitely too young to be doing either (welcome to night city) because the pay seemed better than ‘petty street thief’ and it put food in her stomach

worked her way up that ‘corporate ladder’ surprisingly quickly. went from standing out on jig-jig street and dancing in side-store windows to actual clubs and a somewhat established clientele list (was never super high up, more mid-end  — in her words, “ganger grunts could never afford me but the high up corpos in the shiny suits and silk shirts only looked for me if they were actively trying to slum it, get some dirt under their fingernails. i know who i am.”)

worked as one joytoy in a group employed by a guy who had them all get a tattoo with a tracker in it on the inside of their upper left arms that read “don’t bite the hand that feeds.” when vex later left she had the tracker de-activated and the don’t crossed out.

got into the bd scene very briefly cause it seemed a good way to make some extra cash on the side. scrolled a few good scenes, nothing major, but one or two might still be in circulation somewhere. after all, stuff like that, once it’s out there it gets passed around right?

met jackie one night while coming back from a “meeting” with a client in heywood. was cutting through a back alley to get to the nearest metro station when she’s confronted by a less than savory character who’d seen one of her bds and decided to take liberties he wasn’t invited to. suddenly she’s bleeding with her face shoved into a brick wall, her arm’s twisted behind her back so tight she thinks it’ll snap and there’s a gun pressed against her head. she screams, but this is night city. who here isn’t used to the sound of random screaming at night? who’s going to care? next thing she knows, her attacker is gone and she turns around and comes face to face with a big fucker wearing valentino colors. but instead of being another danger, he’s asking her if she’s okay. her attacker? out cold on the floor from one punch. doesn’t stop her stomping on him with her heels though.

jackie takes her to get cleaned up and to see padre. guy who attacked her? a 6th street gangoon lurking on valentino turf where he shouldn’t have been. jackie’d recently left the gang but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have loyalties. the pair end up at the coyote that night, talking and drinking (vex will mention this at jackie’s funeral, how it “freaked the shit outta mama welles, seeing her son walk in with a scraped up joytoy.”)

she stops being a joytoy that night. jackie takes her under his wing (he got one of his “good feelings” that she never understood but never questioned) and he teaches her the ropes of being a merc. she took to it rather well. 

turns her body into a canvas because it only belongs to her and she doesn’t have to care whether it would make her less profitable.

vex and jackie work together for a few years, but then vex meets Some Guy (i haven’t named him yet go away) and, still being a little foolish, decides to move to atlanta with him. this leads to a huge fight with jackie because they were just starting to make it good as mercs, climbing up the edgerunner food chain, and jackie, who’d never liked her input, just knew it was going to end badly with this dude. if only she’d listened.

fast forward two years and guess who was right? vex, having been left sitting on a curb with her shit in a bag, returns to night city, but doesn’t tell jackie when she arrives, convinced he’ll still be pissed at her. only goes to the coyote after, as in the streetkid origin, she gets almost-mugged in heywood. gets the job from kirk, tries to steal a car, then suddenly jackie’s there with a gun to her head. what a reunion.

jackie did in fact say “i told you so.”

wears synth-cherry flavored lip gloss.

is very good at being manipulative but can’t sneak for shit. little hard to do when you’re dressed head to toe in vibrant neon purple.

collects purple weapons. aesthetic is important. it’s her brand. favors her shot gun.

bit of a pyromaniac. really likes when things go boom. gets the projectile launcher installed in her arm and is a little too giddy about it.

regularly makes messy personal decisions. dino dinovic (who becomes dino dinodick in her phone after the first time they have sex) being one of them.

emotionally stunted. having even more emotionally stunted rockstar johnny silverhand in her head does not help matters in the slightest.

#oc: vex

[number1villainstan]

AtLA Analysis: S1E3: The Southern Air Temple

Been a while since the last one. I don’t really have an excuse here other than procrastination. But anyways, let’s get into it! (...as soon as this song finishes.)

During the Previously section, it highlights both that Aang is the Avatar and that Aang has been in the iceberg for 100 years (and that there have been no known sightings of airbenders for 100 years among the SWT). Now, the total decimation of especially a nomadic people in one fell swoop is impossible, which is why many fanfics describe airbenders going into hiding or assimilating into other cultures to escape the later ‘clean-up.’ I remember learning about the Rwandan genocide in school, and there were several steps to lead up to genocide (and what comes after), including alienation and dehumanization. The last step, I remember, was denial that the genocide ever happened. And yet, despite what we see of the propaganda in S3, we don’t see denial. Fudging the details, yes, but not denial.

Aang mentions a ‘prickle-snake’ while waking Sokka up. Another animal to add to the roster. It doesn’t seem like strictly a hybrid. What does this one look like, I wonder?

During the conversation with Katara, Aang seems almost in denial about the things he’s heard--that no one has seen an airbender in 100 years, and the Fire Navy ship. Perhaps I as a rewatcher am overestimating the knowledge a new blind watcher would have and Aang does have at this point. After all, this is the episode where the whole of that tragedy is revealed, as well as more of Aang’s backstory. Katara’s careful warnings, vaguely worded, don’t get through to him though, which makes it possible that he’s just denying the implications of what he’s heard. After all, in his mind, he saw the other airbenders just a few days ago. Maybe even just yesterday.

We also see the first bit of the context of Zuko’s situation. He indirectly orders (!) his uncle to get the repairs done as soon as possible, because he can’t risk losing his trail, and says that once word gets out he’ll have a lot of competition, something he can’t risk. Despite his earlier allusions to high, even royal, status (I believe he has been called Prince before), he clearly doesn’t have a lot of resources in his hunt. It makes me wonder what his budget is, and where he gets what money/resources he does have.

COMMANDER ZHAO! The slimy corporate ladder climber himself! Despite Zuko’s setup as the main antagonist during the first two episodes, Zhao is the main antagonist of S1. In fact, while Zuko is an antagonist for a while (S1, and some of S2) he’s only a main antagonist for those first two episodes, and then he’s set up as both an antagonist to the Gaang and a rival to the main antagonists of the seasons. This double-sided tension works very, very well for his character arc, methinks.

Zuko greets Zhao as ‘Captain,’ and is then corrected to ‘Commander.’ In a later episode he’s promoted to ‘Admiral.’ We have three offices in the FN Navy and their order, though said order may be different from real life navies. (Also, what does a captain vs a commander vs an admiral have power over? I would guess that Captain is one ship and we see that Admiral is a fleet, so what’s in between?) Zhao also bows to Iroh, but not to Zuko--a reflection of his dishonored state? Iroh doesn’t bow to Zhao, which seems to indicate that ‘General’ (even retired General) is a greater office than Commander. Not a great surprise. Zhao refers to Iroh as ‘General Iroh’ rather than ‘Prince Iroh.’ Given the immediate clarification that Iroh is Fire Lord Ozai’s brother (rather than Zuko’s uncle on his non-royal side), does that imply that military titles are more important than noble titles within the Fire Nation? It would make sense, given how highly militarized it is. Or perhaps military titles are simply more important to Zhao himself, which would be an interesting point of character (perhaps he values earned merit over birth or socioeconomic status?).

Zhao says it’s his harbor Zuko has docked at, which further hints at the disparity in resources between the two. So a Commander has command (lol) over a whole harbor? Also, this confirms that, despite what many people have said, Zuko was allowed into FN harbors while disgraced. I’m going to need to clarify if he was banished the whole time or merely chasing his honor.

Neither Zuko nor Iroh can lie to save their lives. Definite drawbacks for two royals.

Zhao invites the two, and Zuko attempts to dip out. However, when Iroh agrees for the both of them, he isn’t fearful, he’s irritated or frustrated. Which means that he thinks of Zhao in social situations as an annoyance, but not a threat, in contrast to those who think of Zhao as a creep or a pedo. (To be fair, he does have that slimy, untrustworthy quality to him, even if he seems more of a suck-up or a sycophant than a creep.)

SWT food just dropped: blubber(ed?) seal jerky. Apparently it looks like a fire-starting material to Aang.

The Southern Air Temple is located in or near the Patola (? pah-toll-ah) mountain range.

Katara, again, tries to gently warn Aang about the genocide. It doesn’t really work. This is also the first mention that Katara and Sokka’s mother is dead by the hands of the FN, and further cements the feeling in the early story of the Fire Nation as this constant, oppressive force. He accepts that the Fire Nation would kill the Air Nomads, but not that they did. He says that the only way to get to an Air Temple is on a flying bison, which raises the question of how did the Fire Nation get to the temples for that first wave?

Also, what is holding Appa’s saddle in place? It’s drawn as just there on his lower back.

Nomadic peoples irl, by definition, move around a lot, often following food or water sources. So Aang’s declaration of “We’re home,” while cementing the Temples as gathering places for the Air Nomads, seems to directly contradict the idea that, ykno, they’re nomads.

Zhao says that BSS will fall to the FN ‘by year’s end,’ and that then the Fire Lord will ‘finally claim victory.’ We don’t hear of any other strongholds against the Fire Nation, but we come in at the tail end of whatever that speech was, so it’s likely others were mentioned off screen (such as Omashu). Again, this reinforces the idea that the Fire Nation already has control over much of the world of AtLA.

Zuko actively speaks against his father here, interestingly enough: “If my father thinks the rest of the world will follow him willingly, then he is a fool.” We know that Zuko is loyal to the FN (at this point), so this can only mean that Zuko has seen a lot of the world and paid enough attention to know how the common EK people feel about the FN (not good). The indirect insult is also something of a surprise, if you’re familiar with (reliant on) fanon Zuko.

Also, the difference between how Zuko and Zhao address the same person (’my father’ vs ‘the Fire Lord’). As yet, he remains unnamed and mysterious. Zhao also acts as if he’s not close with the man. My Zhaozai shipper side wants to deny that so bad. Perhaps, if you’re really attached to the ‘Zhao slept his way to the top’ headcanon, you could say he’s just acting that way to hide the fact.

“Two years at sea have done little to temper your tongue.” That implies familiarity between Zuko and Zhao, and also contradicts the usual ‘three years of banishment/dishonor’ that the fandom usually goes off of. Early show weirdness?

Iroh playing with Zhao’s weapons and knocking them over, clearly by accident. Another incident of him being used as the ‘funny man’ during the early show.

During the conversation, Zhao says “[the Avatar] died a hundred years ago, along with the rest of the airbenders.” No mention is made of the reincarnation cycle, which is supposed to be common knowledge. Of course, Zhao also clearly knows about the reincarnation cycle, as shown in later episodes, but it’s odd phrasing.

Zhao invokes loyalty to try and get Zuko to give up the information. Later in S1, when we see the Agni Kai, Zuko shouts “I am your loyal son!” Honor is never explicitly defined during the series, and the implicit definition changes over Zuko’s arc, but loyalty (or the appearance thereof) seems to play a big role in the Zuko’s definition of honor during S1.

Katara implies that she and Sokka are the first outsiders to ever visit an Air Temple. Perhaps she isn’t counting the Fire Nation soldiers, or doesn’t realize that they were there?

Even when faced with an empty Air Temple, Aang doesn’t seem to realize the atrocity that happened. He’s sad, but not angry. Not yet. Surprisingly, it’s Sokka that tries to cheer him up, by asking him about airball, even though he was complaining earlier about hunger.

Katara tries to protect Aang throughout the episode. Sokka warns her when they stumble across the FN helmet that she can’t do it forever. Katara being caring, Sokka being practical.

Aang describes Gyatso as the greatest airbender in the world. Possibly true, possibly just Aang’s childlike admiration of him.

In this first flashback, we see the first confirmation that Aang is too young--he was supposed to be told he was the Avatar when he was sixteen, not twelve. What’s significant about sixteen here? Is it the age of adulthood in universe?

Can we say that Gyatso was a father figure to Aang here? Their interactions seem to point that direction.

As a side note, the animation in these early seasons seems off, sometimes. It’ll get better as it goes along, naturally, but still.

God I want to know how the airbending lock works.

So, I’m still unclear. Did Ozai tell Zuko that he could only return with the Avatar? Or did Zuko come up with that on his own? Because it looks like Zuko came up with that on his own.

Why are the Avatar statues in the Air Sanctuary? What happens if they run out of room? Also, I only spotted one statue (Kyoshi, I think) that was clearly a woman, and the early show at least seems to use ‘he’ as the default pronoun, despite the fact that we know Yangchen and Kyoshi were women.

What is it with past lives? Roku and Yangchen and Kuruk and Kyoshi and Aang are all distinct characters with distinct personalities. Perhaps the only thing in common that they have is that they can all bend all four elements with practice. They’re also treated like separate characters for most of the narrative. What does ‘past life’ even mean here? What is passed on between these people?

I find it hilarious how everybody thought Momo was a firebender at first. Also, Sokka lunging at Momo, a live animal, with the intent to make him into food shows that Sokka knows how to hunt, skin, and then cook an animal, presumably.

Zhao calls Zuko a ‘banished prince,’ so why is he in a Fire Nation harbor? Zhao also says he has ‘hundreds’ of ships under his command as a Commander, as well as a harbor. So what more does he have as Admiral?

Like the animation, the dialogue doesn’t feel totally natural yet. There’s some exposition there that doesn’t feel like what someone would normally say in that situation.

More hints at Zuko’s backstory, with vague references to exactly what happened with the scar. Clearly meant to tease a blind watcher. To a rewatcher, it says outright that Ozai is a master, so everybody who says that he isn’t/shouldn’t be that powerful of a bender can shut up and go think about what they’ve done in the corner.

The room with Gyatso’s corpse has a whole bunch of what look like bodies in armor, and only Gyatso for the airbenders. How many people did that man kill in his final stand? Also, what are they doing to their clothes? The fabric is in fantastic shape after 100 years.

What is it about this specific calling on the Avatar state that makes it so that each temple/holy place picks it up? He was in the Avatar state for 100 years in that iceberg, so why wasn’t that picked up? In fact, why wasn’t it picked up by anyone but Zuko when he came out of the iceberg?

Zhao clearly thinks himself superior to Zuko in firebending. However, given that Zuko won, he’s clearly not, so Zhao isn’t as familiar with Zuko’s firebending prowess as he thinks.

The Agni Kai starts with Zuko attacking and tiring himself out with several attacks, marking him as impulsive and angry, while Zhao keeps calm and blocks all his strikes. It’s only after Zuko turns the tables with a non-bending move, literally sweeping one of his feet out from under him, and defeats him by keeping him off balance that he throws himself into a reckless attack. Zhao is capable of keeping a cool head if he thinks he can defeat someone easily. Firebending is about control and power, showcased well by the fight.

Iroh saving Zuko from Zhao’s dishonorable attack is the first time we see him not as a comic relief but as a mentor or protector. It’s more in line with what we see of him later.

Sokka and Katara call Aang their family. Is this metaphorical, or is it literal? Has Aang been adopted into the SWT or is this just the found family trope?

Sokka talks about being hungry, and finally gets food from Momo, but have the others eaten? Surely Katara and Aang are hungry as well.

Aang says that he, Appa, and Momo are all that’s left of the Southern Air Temple. Are there not any other lemurs around? What is Momo doing alone? Are flying lemurs a solitary species? A pack species? What?

And that’s all for now! A summary of Zhao: smug, arrogant, overconfident, but with an easily wounded pride. Also, we can infer that he has skill in combat, given his position, and (maybe) discount that he slept his way to the top given that he speaks of the Fire Lord in such a formal and distant manner. Also, this took way too long, because I started last night and kept getting distracted while I was doing it today.

#atla analysis #atla meta #katara #atla katara #aang #atla aang #sokka #atla sokka #zuko #atla zuko #avatar: the last airbender #s1e3: the southern air temple #zhao #admiral zhao #atla zhao #iroh #atla iroh

[sunshineseung]

Paperwork // Hyunjin

🍄 | genre: smut (18+ only) ☁️ | pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 5.1k 🌸 | includes: switch-dom!hyunjin, switch-sub!reader, oral (both receiving), PIV riding, pet names, begging, kinda goofy at first, cum swallowing, “sir”, a lil bit more but not too much

☀️ | synopsis: You’ve been working at this office for five painstakingly long years, but despite your best efforts, you never get a raise or promotion. When the CEO retires, his son takes his place, and seeing as you’re around the same age as his son, this could be your chance to get ahead. 

🌊 | If you want to skip to the smut, look for the [🔥] because there’s a lot of set up for this one, but I know some people just want to get off lol.

He has finally stepped down. After 60 long, long years, the CEO of the company you work at has retired, as if he didn’t have enough money to retire 30 years ago.

The amount of times you’ve been told off by that man is practically uncountable. It felt like at one point you were going into his office every week to ask for any sort of promotion, raise, or even kudos, but every time, he turned up his nose and shooed you away like some kind of stray cat. You’ve worked too long and too hard to not be given proper treatment. Despite everything, you stay at the company, knowing no where else in the city will pay nearly as well.

The company now belongs to his oldest son, Hyunjin. He’s never worked in this office, yet the old man still thought it would be appropriate for him to run the entire company (supervised by a few HRs, of course). Hyunjin looked like a complete fool trying to command the floors of burnt out office workers just trying to pay next month’s rent and put food on their tables, not that he would know what it’s like to work for anything. The first job he’s ever had and it’s the CEO of a multi-million dollar enterprise, who would have thought?

This is your chance. He’s right around your age, give or take a few months, and he seems marginally more friendly than his father. If you were ever going to climb the corporate ladder to finally move out of your studio apartment, it was right now.

Wearing the tightest, shortest skirt you own with the perfect button up to match, you step into his office after scheduling a meeting with his temporary secretary. When you sit down in the chair across from him, he just sighs and waits for you to speak your piece so he can get back to his grueling job of signing documents that he never reads.

“Good morning, sir. I was just coming up here to compliment you on how well you’ve been running the place since your father stepped down. It seems like company morale is at an all time high, and I can’t imagine thanking anyone other than you.”

“So you want a promotion, right?” He scoffs, grabbing a pen to click repeatedly as you struggle coming up with a response. You weren’t expecting him to be so quick on his feet considering he would stutter over every word talking at meetings. “I assume you didn’t come in here just to kiss my ass.”

“Alright, you caught me, but can I at least make my case?” He looks up from the pen to wordlessly incite you to keep talking. “I’ve been working here since I got out of college. This is really my dream, and it would mean the world to me if I could get farther, work harder, and, if you’re feeling so inclined, get a bit of a paycheck raise.”

“Well, you caught me on the right day, miss...”

“L/n. But you can call me Y/n if you want.”

“Y/n.” Hyunjin puts the pen down and leans on his desk, elbows propping himself up. “If you’re up for the task, I am looking for a new secretary.”

“As I’ve heard.” The rumor has been going around that his father left his secretary for Hyunjin, but all they’ve been doing if fighting, so they had to bring in a temporary one, the one you spoke with, to hold him off until Hyunjin finds a secretary he likes. “Not to be rude, but wouldn’t you rather have a male secretary like your father had?”

“No, no. I know what I want.” He runs his hand through his black hair, slipping out the ponytail that was holding the long strands out of his face. “I want you to be my secretary. No one else.”

He drags his fingers through a stack of papers on his desk, stopping at a five page contract booklet. He slides you the papers and the pen he was just fiddling with.

“If you really want this promotion, you’ll sign on that dotted line right now.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Working for Hyunjin wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Once he warms up to you, he’s actually really sweet. If you mess up his coffee or misscedule a meeting, he doesn’t fire you immediately, but rather just assures you that it’s okay and you’ll do better next time, a total 180 from what you saw that first time in his office. After a few weeks, you’re a dream to work with, and the job is a lot less stressful than you had assumed.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was beyond stressed. Meeting after meeting, signature after signature, decision after decision: it was all too much. The only time he smiled was when you brought him coffee in the morning, or when he’d hear your voice through the phone. He always looked forward to seeing you, even if it was only for a brief minute. You were really the only thing keeping his sanity together.

“Here’s your coffee, sir.” You put the cup on his desk as he reads a random document. He thanks you, as usual, and takes a quick sip before immediately regretting his decision when he felt his tongue begin to burn. You quick go to his mini-fridge and pass him a water bottle, standing back as he gulps half of it down to relieve at least some of the pain. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean for it to get that hot!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it.” He sits back in his chair and slowly turns to you, meeting your eyes in a light-hearted stare. He laughs before finally speaking again. “You’re holding this company together, you know that?”

You laugh right with him, rolling your eyes at his statement. “Oh please, I just forward emails all day.”

“No, I mean it.” He holds his hands out and grabs yours, interlocking your hands in a soft grip. You could easily move back, but you don’t want to. “Without you, I’d be losing my mind.”

“Aw, you’re too kind.” You stand in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say next. The silence isn’t awkward by any means, but you can’t help but wonder why you’re holding the hands of your boss. “You’re doing very well, though. You have some big shoes to fill, and I feel like you’re doing the best you can.”

“Of course you’d say that. You work for me.” Hyunjin lets go of your hands and leans back in his chair again, crossing one of his legs over the other and lazily putting his hands behind his head, lounging back. “Y/n, can I say something crazy?”

“Say whatever’s on your mind, sir. I’m all ears.”

“Ugh, drop the formalities. Just call me Hyunjin, okay?” You nod, letting him continue with his speech. “I really appreciate you, Y/n, and it’s no secret that my family is loaded, so I want to ask if you’d come live with me downtown.”

“W-what?” Your eyes practically bulge out of your head. Living with your boss sounds absolutely insane, but any chance to get out of your shitty apartment is promising. This is the opportunity of a life time, no doubt, but is it worth taking? “Sir, I...”

“For fuck’s sake, call me Hyunjin.” You’ve never heard him curse before. “Listen, I live in a penthouse on the top story of a high-security luxury apartment complex. I’m all alone in a five bedroom apartment with a full view of the town. Going home alone every night is wearing on me, and it would mean a lot to have someone else there, even just to talk to.”

“I need time to think.” You look anywhere but his eyes as he leans forward and looks up at you from his chair.

“Take your time and think it over. I’ll give you until the end of the day.” Hyunjin turns back to his desk and looks at the paper he was reading before he burnt his tongue. “Go back to your office for now, but right after your shift, I want you here.”

“Yes, s-... okay, Hyunjin.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Everyone is gone except you, finalizing one last email before heading up to Hyunjin’s office. An office with no workers is eerie to say the least, and as you take the elevator up to Hyunjin’s office, you can’t help but notice how nervous you feel inside.

This is the right decision. As difficult as it might be, you’re going to say no to his offer. It’s extremely unprofessional to have any sort of out-of-work relationship with your boss. Thinking back to the outfit you wore when you took the promotion, it’s no wonder you assume you’ve made Hyunjin think you want this. Your apartment may be shitty, but at least it’s yours. Living with Hyunjin would cause too many problems in your life, and the last thing you need right now is problems.

He was waiting for you. With his head in his hands as you walk through the door, he darts his attention to you as you sit across from him. While it was certainly a familiar sight by now, he was just glad you didn’t run away from him after such an intense morning.

“Hyunjin, I just want to-”

“Stop.” He holds his hand up, pausing you mid-sentence. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I’m just stressed, and I’m not thinking clearly. I shouldn’t have offered you to live with me. That’s not who I am, nor is that something I should have sprung on you like that.” He reverts back to his former position with his head in his hands, staring down at his desk. “I just... I’m so lonely.”

You feel for him, you really do. He’s been thrown into this situation obviously not by choice, and he knows absolutely no one he’s working with other than you. With a stressful job and no one to turn to, it was clear why he was acting so rashly.

You pull his hands away from his head, holding them in yours like you did this morning. Rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand, you give him a gentle smile as he meets your eyes. The bags under his eyes are present, and his tiredness is visible. He looks so worn out to you. You really do feel bad.

“I’m not asking you to move in, but would you like to come back to my penthouse? Just for tonight?” He returns a smile to you, lowering his gaze blankly. “We can have a few drinks and talk. I just need someone with me right now.”

“Only if you’re paying for the taxi.” You two laugh together, appreciating each other’s presence.

“I’ll have my chauffeur drive us back to my place, and afterwards, he can drive you home.”

🖊⌚️🗄🗞🪙📞

Saying that Hyunjin’s apartment was massive would be an understatement. You felt like you walked into a penthouse from a dystopian future with shiny metal counter tops and black leather furniture. It didn’t look lived in, but to be fair, there was only one man living there. You felt cold even though it was room-temperature. 

“Follow me, doll.” Hyunjin takes your hand and leads you to the living room to sit on his L-shaped couch. If his pet name didn’t throw you off, you very well would have just walked there without his assistance, but you didn’t know how to react after being called ‘doll’ by your boss. “Want anything to drink? Wine? Vodka?”

“I’ll take wine, thank you.”

“Red or white?”

“Red.”

Hyunjin pours you both a glass and meets you back on the couch, lounging next to you, letting the soft silence fall over the room as you each take a sip of the expensive booze. As you drink a bit more, Hyunjin’s eyes are glued to you, and you start to break a sweat as the temperature in the room seems to rise. He’s just... staring at you. You feel uneasy, but this alcohol should help calm your nerves, right?

Hyunjin easily notices that you’re starting to slip into deeper thought, so he carefully puts his hand on your knee to bring you back into the moment. His gesture isn’t charged in anyway, but you still jolt at his touch. You dart your eyes towards his while looking like a deer in headlights. 

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin slides his hand up and down your leg only from your knee to mid-thigh. With his other hand, he puts his glass of wine on the coffee table in front of you so he can totally focus on your needs. Even though you hesitantly nod, he isn’t convinced in the slightest. “You want to know why I invited you here?”

“Sure, Hyunjin. Why did you invite me here?” The more he rambles on, the less you have to talk, so you gladly let him fill the silence. 

“Well, to put it simply, I’m interested in you.” You tilt your head in confusion. Was this a confession? “You’re a very intriguing person to me. When you walked into my office for the first time, you suffocated me with your aura. You truly do command a room, you know? That’s probably why you’ve gotten so far in your career.” His chuckle is awkward, and you don’t respond in any way to help his nerves. “You’re a woman that knows what she wants, and I admire that, especially since I don’t even know what I want.”

“How don’t you know what you want?” Your confidence was slowly coming back, although you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or your want to pick at Hyunjin’s brain. “You have everything anyone could ever want! Look at where you live!” You gesture to the room around you. The modern art-deco custom paintings, the abstract sculptures, the fake plants that looked too fake to even be considered plant-like. It was a dream, especially for those that lived in the city. “You have the perfect house and the job position people can only dream of.”

“I don’t want this, Y/n.” He stands from the couch, walking over to the wall of glass that separates the living room from the balcony. “This house means nothing. This job position means nothing.” He can’t face you, fearful that you’ll see how weak he is. “I want someone. I want you.”

Silence. You stare down at your legs, unable to even process what Hyunjin just said. Your thumbs rub against each other, fiddling so you can focus on anything else. Hyunjin sighs loudly and turns around, walking back over so he can tower over you. His shadow consumes you, shrouding your figure in slight darkness. A hand slips under your chin, pulling your face up to see him. His eyes sparkle when he looks at you as if he’s enamored by your existence. 

“What do I have to do?” Hyunjin ponders, leaning in closer to you. The scent of his cologne clogs your senses, and all you can think about is Hwang Hyunjin. “What do I have to do to have you?”

Your hand goes to his chest, grabbing his tie. You pull him into you, crashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. Hyunjin puts all of his emotion into this kiss, promising himself that he’ll show his love through his actions. 

Pulling away, you both catch your breath and enjoy the brief silence. For once, it isn’t awkward; the silence is welcomed. 

“Hyunjin,” you twirl his tie between your fingers, “if you want me, then prove it.” 

[🔥]

Hyunjin takes your hand in his, pulling you off the couch. He drags you up to his bedroom without saying a word, assuming you know what’s about to happen. His sheets are all black, neatly made without a stain in sight. Hyunjin sits on the edge of the bed, tapping on his lap to invite you to take a seat. 

You straddle him, feeling heated the second your thighs come in contact with his. It feels unreal, but you want this now more than ever. You didn’t drink even an entire glass of wine, so you can’t blame this decision on any ounce of alcohol. 

��Are you sure about this, sweetheart?” He wraps his long arms around your waist, pulling you into him so your body is pressed against his. “I need to hear you say you want this.”

“Yes, Hyunjin. I’m sure I want this.” You shoot him a smile that never fails to make his heart melt, and he can’t help but kiss you again, his lips perfectly fitting against yours. When you open your mouth to allow his tongue to slip in, he feels like he has reached nirvana. Hyunjin was been wanting this for so god damn long; he could bust in his pants just thinking about it. 

His mouth moves from your lips to your jawline, not leaving any hickeys because he knows you have work tomorrow. His kisses along your jaw and neck make you moan quietly, and your hands slip behind his head into his hair. You curl your fingers into his hair, pulling it ever so slightly. He grunts against your neck, sucking harder than before, accidentally leaving a red mark. 

He pulls off of your throat, breathing heavily, looking into your half-lidded eyes. Your hands rest on the back of his neck, holding him close to you. Hyunjin smiles lightly and pecks your cheek, making you both giggle from his cute gesture. 

“I know I told you not to call me sir, but... maybe just for tonight, you can call me that.” Oh, he’s like that? You kiss him for a moment before pushing him back, his body falling against the sheets. Your body hovers over his, and you roam your hands over his chest and abs, feeling him from over his shirt.

“Alright, sir.” You smile innocently, leaning down, kissing his neck to test his dominance. He doesn’t fuss at this. He accepts your kisses, throwing his head back to give you better access to kiss his neck. Your hands roam all over his body, paying special attention to his chest, or more specifically, his nipples. He groans quietly, biting his lips as your fingers rolls over his nipples. “Oh, you like this?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Sit up. Let me take your shirt off.” He laughs at your commands as he raises his body from the bed and unbuttons the top of his shirt before you step in and unbutton the rest. The slow reveal of his torso his haunting, causing your eyes to dart every which way across his body. He really looks like a Greek god. “This is what you’ve been hiding from me?” 

“Oh please, I’ve been wanting to fuck you since I first laid eyes on you, doll.” There it was again. That damn pet name. He really was going to be the death of you, so you might as well enjoy this. “I’ve had dreams of bending you over my desk and fucking you during work, but that wouldn’t be very appropriate, would it?” 

You gulp out of nervousness, unsure of where to go from here. You were in control for the moment, but now that Hyunjin was letting his emotions out, you keep getting flustered, wishing he would take the reigns over this situation. 

“Aw, is my little doll getting shy?” He brushes his hand across your hot cheek, making you stutter out nonsense. “You’re so cute, baby. I could flip you over and ruin you right now, but we should take our time, right?” 

You nod, tracing your hands on his chest again. Your thumb and pointer finger grip his nipples and twist, causing him to arch his back and fall against the bed once again. He’s putty in your hands again, so you up the ante by pressing your heat against his painfully large bulge in his tight work pants, teasing him just enough to make him weak. The sounds he’s making can only be described as sinful, and you love every minute of it.

You dive your head down to his chest, sucking hickeys into his defined pecs. Your tongue around his nipples makes him keen from pleasure, his hands petting your back up and down. When you lean up to look at all the marks you’ve made, he’s desperately trying to catch his breath. 

“I was supposed to be showing you how much I like you, not the other way around!” He giggles through deep breaths, running his hands down the sides of your body. “Lay back, baby. Let me take care of you, alright?”

You shrug in agreement, dramatically throwing your body back on the mattress for Hyunjin to pin you down under his lean figure. His gaze eats you alive, skimming over your skin like he was about to devour you. 

“You’re absolutely stunning, baby.” He kisses you on the lips, short and sweet, before unbuttoning your dress shirt and revealing your bra, feeling your tits over the fabric. His hands perfectly cup your tits, moving your bra down to play with your hardened nipples. You arch your back into his touch, relaxing and letting him worship your chest. He’s a master with his hands, making you moan and whine just enough for him to get even harder under his tight pants. “Can I take your bra off?”

“Of course, sir. Take it all off for me, alright?” You wink up at him, stirring a fire in his heart. He wants to take you, all of you, inciting him to rapidly strip you of your shirt and bra, tossing them to the side. His lips attach to one of your nipples while his hand goes to the other, playing with the bud between his fingers. His other hand snakes down your body and unbuttons your pants, sneaking down to play with your cunt over your panties. His middle finger pushes your panties into your pussy, saturating them with your wetness. “Please finger me, Hyunjin.”

“Oh, needy already?” He leans up from your chest, sitting between your spread legs as he unbuttons his own pants and pulls them down enough to see his bulge under his tight boxers. He looked so big, bigger than you’ve ever taken. Your cunt becomes drentched in a second of you imagining his cock going inside you. “Staring isn’t polite, you know?”

“S-sorry, sir.” He pulls your pants down your legs, leaving your panties to be the only thing covering you. His hands hug your hips, pulling you right up to him. You feel his bulge against your cunt, making you bite your lip.

One of Hyunjin’s big hands comes down to your cunt, a finger hooking around the bottom of your panties to move them to the side, allowing him to check out your sopping heat. His fingers feather through your folds, circling your needy hole just to tease you. He smiles as you whine and buck your hips up, physically begging him to fuck you dumb.

“My baby’s pussy looks so pretty. I can’t possibly fuck her before I get a taste.” You watch Hyunjin as he scoots down the bed and leans down to be eye-level with your cunt. He licks his lips before diving in, sucking on your clit and running his tongue through your pussy. One arm hooks around your leg while his other comes up to play with your pussy, his fingers teasing your hole before sliding in just enough to make you whine for more. “You’re so sweet, princess.”

“T-Thank you, sir.” You throw your head back when he bends his fingers inside you, curling into your g-spot. Hyunjin hums as you moan loudly, hinting to Hyunjin that you’re close. “C-cum, sir. Need to cum.”

“Aw, my baby’s ready to cum?” Hyunjin teases, going right back to sucking on your clit and mercilessly fingering your tight hole with two fingers. His tongue flicking over your clit is making you so close, your legs shaking as he continues to assault your cunt. “Cum on my fingers, babe.”

Your legs violently shake as you reach your orgasm, all your nerves on edge as waves of pleasure drown your brain. You moan Hyunjin’s name over and over, holding his hair in an iron grip. As you come down, his mouth slowly detaches from your pussy, fully lapping up all your juices.

“Open your mouth.” With your eyes still closed, you open your mouth wide open and let your tongue out, letting Hyunjin do whatever he wants to your mouth. His wet fingers dip into your mouth, pressing against your tongue to make you taste your cunt. You suck lightly on his fingers, tasting yourself before he slips his hand out of your mouth, separating his spit-coated fingers to admire your hard work. “Good girl.”

Your eyes goes back down, staring at the outline of his cock in his boxers. He notices your stare, pulling his waistband down to reveal his long, thick cock, leaking with precum, ready to be stuffed inside you. “W-wanna feel you inside me~”

“Aw, but baby, I’ve fucked you dumb just from my fingers. You think you can handle my cock?” He presses the tip of his cock against your hole, pushing it in just enough to make you whine loudly. He smiles, seeing how fucked out you are so easily. He leans down to your ear, holding your hips in his hands. “Do you really want it?”

His voice is so deep and quiet that it makes you shiver, biting your lips before you can even speak. You breath for a moment to collect yourself. “Yes, sir. I want it.”

“Alright, baby.” Hyunjin gives you a peck on your lips before laying next to you, putting his hands behind his head. You look over at him puzzled, still collecting your breath. “Ride me.”

Hyunjin takes a condom out of his nightstand while you whine and breath more, trying to bring back any feeling to your legs. You regain your strength as he rolls the comdom onto his thick shaft.

You huff and sit up, wobbling before getting balanced on the soft bed. You finally pull off your panties before straddling him. Hyunjin throws his head back as you start to jerk his cock, feeling him twitch in your palm. With your free hand, you pull his pants down more to let you comfortably straddle his hips. As you lower yourself into him, you both groan loudly, you from the stretch and him from the tightness.

Hyunjin’s hands hold tightly onto your waist as you fully lower onto him, halting your movements to allow your cunt to adjust to his size. He bites his lip and stares at your face, admiring your beauty despite your messy hair and sweaty forehead. You slowly raise your hips, gripping Hyunjin’s cock with your cunt as you lower back down.

“You’re so tight, baby- fuck.” Hyunjin’s groans are loud as hell, echoing through the bedroom as you ride him, establishing a slow pace. You feel so full, his tip reaching deep inside you, and you love it. The stretch doesn’t bother you anymore, speeding up slightly. He watches your tits bounce on your chest, teasing him with their perky nipples and forming hickeys.

“Is sir close?” You feel him switch inside you at your question, his eyes squeezing shut as he nods and whines. His grip on your waist looses before his hands fall next to his head. You lean down and pin his wrists to the bed with your hands. Having your tits right in his face makes it even harder to keep his cool.

Suddenly, Hyunjin’s hips buck into you, fucking up into your tight cunt while you force yourself to stay still so he can let out his energy... and your legs were getting tired. He hits your spot with every thrust, desperately fucking you so he can release into the condom. You feel him inside you, his cum ballooning the tip of the condom, making you moan as he whines, saying your name like a mantra. He looks so hot under you, you can’t help but lean down and kiss his pretty, plump lips while he sits inside you.

“I thought I could last longer.” Hyunjin wipes the sweat from his brow as he pulls out of you, pulling off the condom, tying it, and tossing it towards his trash can. “You really know how to break me.”

He doesn’t realize that you’re still on top of him, moving down the bed to take his cock into your mouth. He winces when your hot tongue hits the tip of his cock. You lick up his shaft before taking him into your mouth, testing your gag reflex as you take him down your throat, your nose hitting his pelvis. His hands find home in your hair, pulling tightly as you bob your head on his member.

He’s totally speechless, his brain empty as you suck his cock like a pro. Your tongue feels like heaven on Earth, quickly making him fully hard again and bringing him close to another orgasm. He’s never been over stimulated like this before, whining like a cat in heat as he watches his cock disappear down your throat. You stare up at him, keeping eye contact even if he doesn’t look at you.

He twitches in your mouth, his cock spawning against your tongue as you increase the pace. He bites his lip harsh enough to draw blood as he cums again, your head raising so only the tip is in your mouth while one hand jerks his cock, milking him dry. His vision is fuzzy, mind even foggier. He can’t believe you just did that without a word.

You swallow his cum, wiping the drool off of your chin as you hop up and lay next to him, nuzzling into his chest. He puts an arm around you while you two cuddle in silence.

“You’re really good at that, Y/n.” He huffs, smiling as he looks down at you who’s drifting off to sleep. “Are you gonna sleep over?”

“I was hoping I could. And who knows? Maybe we can fuck in the morning before going to work.”

“Fuck, work.” Hyunjin sighs loudly before groaning from the reminder of all of his stress. “This won’t change our relationship ship at the office, will it?”

“Not publicly, no, but if you ever need to releive some stress during the day, just invite me up to your office and I’d be happy to help you, sir.” You both laugh, finally at ease in each other’s arms. As you drift to sleep, you can’t help but be excited for the proceeding weeks at your work.

This is exactly the raise you needed.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fan fiction #skz fan fiction #skz imagines #skz imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #skz #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin

[gatheringbones]

["My mother teaches composition and literature at the community college in Coos Bay, a logging town that almost collapsed when Weyerhaeuser permanently closed its big mill. Every quarter she teaches out-of-work and injured loggers and mill workers. If these men had their druthers, they'd still be in the woods, but because of work-related disabilities— either permanent or temporary— mill closings and the depletion of timber, they need to find other ways to put food on their tables. They have spent years working in the forests and mills. Some started as choker setters, working their way up the ladder to become fallers or foremen. The most dangerous and lowest paying job on a logging crew, a choker setter wraps chain around each log as it lies helter-skelter on the slope so it can be dragged up to the loading areas. Others drive logging trucks, know how to navigate the steepest, narrowest logging roads carrying tons of logs behind them. Still others have fed logs into the roar of the sawmill, pulled lumber out the other end. They know logs, trees, the lay of the land, chainsaws, and forklifts as well as urban folks know the criss-cross of streets in their neighborhoods. If you want to see a marbled murrelet, a bird— like the spotted owl— in trouble because it's losing habitat to clearcut logging, ask one of them. They'll know where to look, even give you directions if you're lucky.

A few of these loggers and mill workers write about their work to complete assignments my mother gives them. She says some of their essays break her heart, essays written by men who love the woods and the steep hills of the Siskiyous, who fell and buck the trees, and know the tension between their work and their love. They also know that the two aren't diametrically opposed. Their long days outside, the years of trudging up and down impossibly steep hills, chainsaws balanced over shoulders, feed their love. And in turn their joy at the morning fog lifting off the trees, the sound of pileated woodpeckers and gray squirrels, bolsters their willingness to do the dangerous, body-breaking work of logging. Other essays make my mother grind her teeth: pieces about conquest, the analogy between felling a 300-year-old Douglas fir and raping a woman only thinly veiled, both acts to be bragged about. In these essays, trees are jobs, endlessly renewable resources, lumber, and paper; the natural world, a force to be subdued.

All these loggers and mill workers are fighting poverty, struggling to pay the rent, the mortgage, the medical bills on a paycheck that has vanished. There are few unions in the logging business.

The timber corporations all have long histories of union-busting. The last time the mill workers tried to unionize at Weyerhaeuser's Coos Bay mill, the company threatened to pull out completely if organizing efforts didn't stop. The mill workers wouldn't back down, and Weyerhaeuser did in fact shut the mill down for months. In Coos Bay when people can't find timber or fishing jobs, they work the tourist season May through September and earn minimum wage. So these loggers and mill workers enroll at the community college and sit in my mother's classes, maybe hopeful, but more likely consumed by anxiety.

You, my reader, maybe I am imagining you wrong. Rather than believing that loggers are murderers and that logging is rape pure and simple, maybe you place loggers on some sort of pedestal, as the quintessential exploited worker in a capitalist economy. Maybe you believe that logging is ugly but somehow romantic. Make no mistake: there is nothing romantic about logging. It is dangerous work, fraught with hazards that can tear bodies apart. Mr. Rodgers, the father of my best friend in junior high and high school, lost his left arm to a sawmill. Jim Woodward, who lived upriver from us, could barely walk, his back broken in a logging accident years before. In addition to the catastrophic accidents, there is the routine hearing loss, the nerve damage caused by chainsaw vibration, the missing fingers. Nor are loggers larger-than-life characters. Some of them hate my queer, socialist-anarchist, feminist, tree- and fish-loving self, but their hatred isn't unique. They share it with many people in this country.

They are not brutes by virtue of being loggers. Or if they are, so am I, so is Jim, and so are the journalists who write about the bumper stickers they find on loggers' pickups. Do these journalists ever look for bumper stickers on logging executives' sedans? Do they ever wonder why the sticker "Save a logging exec, kill a spotted owl" doesn't exist? What story would they write if they stumbled across the bumper sticker I ironically imagine, "Save a logger, save the owls, kill a logging exec"?"]

Eli Clare, Exile and Pride: Disability, Queerness, and Liberation

#eli clare #trans literature #terra preta #wasteland radio

[okaynicolette]

Lunch Between Friends - Liam x Jacob

Jacob pulled up to the lunch restaurant, unsure if he had the right place or not. It seemed rather crowded and also rather pink. After he found parking, which was not an easy task due to the Saturday brunch crowd of locals and tourists alike, he checked his messages from Liam again. Yep, this was indeed the right place. Jacob sighed, why couldn’t Liam be happy with just meeting up at a more adult restaurant, rather than something he read about in some food blog, he thought rather discontentedly. Walking to the front of the restaurant, which had bright pink umbrellas shading the sidewalk tables, he saw Liam leaning up against the gold and black painted wall (which was no doubt intended to be a tourist photo op). Jacob gave a light wave to his friend as he walked up, hoping that Liam was actually looking at him behind the dark aviator sunglasses he donned.

Liam arrived early to put his name down, knowing that this restaurant would be crowded at this time of day. It was a popular brunch and burger spot in Venice Beach and it was constantly full of trendy LA millennials– so of course, Liam loved it. Though it was a Saturday, he couldn’t help but check his work email while he waited for Jacob to arrive. He didn’t become one of the most sought after CFPs at his firm by taking weekends off, after all. Just as he sent one final email, he looked up and noticed Jacob walking towards him. Liam gave a head nod of greetings and said, “I put our name in with the host about 20 minutes ago, should be any time now.”

Jacob was thankful that Liam arrived early to put their name in– neither of them were very patient people, but Liam tended to be the more proactive one. Jacob would likely just suffer and complain. The two of them were roommates at USC for the last two years of school, so they knew each other very well. Nowadays, they tried to hang out as often as they could, but things got difficult since Jacob got his girlfriend pregnant right after his graduation. Liam was finishing school then climbing the corporate ladder at his job, while Jacob was learning how to be a father. Liam did his best to be a good uncle though, and Jacob was glad for that as an only child himself– his son, Isaiah, loved his Uncle Liam. From the time Isaiah was born until he was around six, Jacob and Isaiah’s mom, Aidy, lived together and had a fairly normal life. That was until about a year ago. Out of the blue, Aidy decided that she was disappointed she missed out on so much of her life and needed to “experience more”, which was apparently code for “sleep with other people”. They did their best, tried counseling for a few months, but eventually decided to go their separate ways. Jacob originally thought it would be easy because they weren’t married, but they both wanted full custody of Isaiah. The custody battle dragged on for months, when finally, in January, the court decided that they would have joint custody, with Isaiah going back and forth every two weeks. Jacob wasn’t taking it very well, though he tried to put on a good face for his son. He was grateful when Liam called to invite him on a spur of the moment trip, because it felt a little bit like old times.

Moments later, the host called to seat them and they headed into the restaurant. The inside carried the same millennial aesthetic as the outside with mismatched colorful vintage furniture and gold mirrors and picture frames lining the walls.  Jacob found quiet solace in the fact that Liam had good taste in food, which meant this whole Instagram-trap might be worth it. Once they were seated, Liam asked, “So did you book your flights?” He rarely beat around the bush, especially when he was nervous or eager. Something in his tone told Jacob that it was a bit of both.

“Yeah, I got them for the dates you told me and let Aidy know– not that she cared very much since it doesn’t affect her or Isaiah,” Jacob replied, unintentionally sounding bitter at the end of the statement. He was bitter, but he didn’t like showing it, even if it was just to Liam. “So, are we wedding crashing?” He asked before picking up the menu to try and find a decent lunch.

Liam laughed, idly skimming the offerings, even though he had already checked and double checked the menu before even deciding that this was the place they would be eating at. “I don’t know yet. I told you, it’s going to be a surprise for Nik– she doesn’t know I’m coming at all,” he replied, with a facade of excitement. Inside, he was beginning to worry about whether or not this was a good idea. Hoping that Jacob would have good advice, he asked, “Do you think I should tell her? I mean, I’m trying to be romantic and all that.”

Jacob was trying to read through the very long burger menu and make a decision about lunch, but everything sounded amazing since he accidentally skipped breakfast. “I mean if you want to be romantic, then showing up to surprise her at her best friend’s wedding is definitely that. It sounds like a fucking rom-com, for god’s sake,” he said, barely looking up. In all honesty, Jacob felt like the last person who should be giving advice on that sort of thing. He had been with one woman seriously for the last seven years and she had all but shattered his heart.

Liam sighed, setting down his menu. It was rare for him to let his guard down, but Jacob had seen him at his worst, so there was no image to uphold. “My friend from work, Riley, said that Maids of Honor usually have a lot of responsibilities. Do you think I’ll just be distracting her? Oh, and also the bride thinks I’m a dick, so that’s not great either,” he said, rather frustratedly.

Jacob decided on his food and set down his menu to face his friend. “Well I don’t know very much about weddings,” he began, again subtly playing the sad-heartbroken card, “but, like I said– it sounds like a rom-com. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the grand gesture and it’ll be fine. Also, you didn’t tell me Nikki’s best friend doesn’t like you!” He laughed a little bit, giving Liam a hard time. His attitude did rub people the wrong way sometimes, but that usually just meant they hadn’t taken the time to get to know him well.

Liam rolled his eyes as the waitress arrived to take their orders. Once she took their menus and left, he began, “She thinks I’m too showy or something. I get it, but like– she hated me from the jump, so what am I supposed to do?” He shrugged.

Jacob smirked, “Lease a Subaru, move to Arcadia, and become a high school guidance counselor, obviously.” The sarcastic response elicited a genuine laugh from both men. “Kidding, but who knows– This trip might show her friend that you’re serious about the relationship and she’ll get off your back,” he nodded, optimistically as the waitress dropped off their drinks.

“Damn, I never even thought of that,” said Liam pensively, realizing that Jacob had made a very good point. He was now somewhat reassured in his plan to go on the trip. “So how are you doing, man? I know these past few months have been shit,” he said somberly, genuinely feeling for his friend. Though Liam didn’t have any desires to be a father in the near future, he did love Isaiah like a real nephew, and was really disappointed to see how things turned out. He had even helped Jacob get a lawyer through his parents, but it was no use.

Jacob raised his eyebrows and sighed before responding. “It’s fucking lonely, dude. Like how do people our age even meet other people? I’ve gone out a few times with people from work, but bars and clubs… I’m just so not used to that scene anymore,” he shook his head and took a sip of his drink.

“Have you tried dating apps?” Liam asked, unsure of what to say to his grieving friend. Emotions weren’t his strong suit, but he was trying his best.

“If one more person asks me that, I think I’ll explode on the spot.” Liam said sharply. Just that morning, his mother had asked the same thing over the phone. Apparently it was time for him to get back out there again, or something.

Liam raised his hands up in mock defeat. “Alright, so no dating apps,” he resigned. “Well, weddings are a great place to meet people. Who knows– maybe we do score some invites and you meet someone there!” He said, trying to cheer his friend up. Just then, the waitress brought by their meals and topped up their drinks. “And if you don’t meet anyone, then I can always take you out. If you want to, that is,” he nodded, unfolding his napkin and setting it on his lap.

“I don’t feel a particular need to meet anyone, has anyone ever considered that?” Jacob muttered, following Liam’s lead and placing his napkin on his lap.

“You just said you were lonely, J. Even if it’s just a friend you meet, that would help! I know you have me, but it would be nice to have other people you can lean on right now and whenever, you know?” Liam explained before beginning to eat.

“I have friends!” Jacob said incredulously. “I have… Aidy?” He offered sheepishly, realizing that his social circle had been pretty nonexistent these days.

“Your baby-mama who you just got out of a five-month-long custody battle with? That’s your other friend? You might need this trip more than me, dude.” He chuckled and shook his head as he took another bite.

“Ew, God. Don’t call her that.” Jacob rolled his eyes, “But fine. I guess I do need to get out more. This trip will be good for that. And even if Nikki is super busy, the two of us can still go out and stuff, right?”

“Yeah, of course! It’ll be like a revival of the good old days– an Apartment 121 Renaissance!” Liam said excitedly, lifting his glass as if making a toast. Jacob laughed and lifted his glass to touch his friend’s. Their glasses clinked and Jacob felt slightly less hopeless than he had while he was driving in.

#para #liam x jacob

[robert-c]

How To Be A Good “Baby Boomer”

Lately I’ve read that we are resented because so many of us have held onto our high level jobs past retirement expectations. Our pay is near the top of whatever our professions are, and so there is financial incentive to stay on, but perhaps also, we don’t want to admit that our time is past (or passing). So those younger coming up would like to see us leave because we are blocking the ladder for them. At the same time I’ve read that we may just be the silver bullet for the economic recovery because we have money and once vaccinated against COVID19 we’ll be ready to return to the restaurants are resorts we used to visit regularly.

Being retired now, I don’t have to feel guilty about holding anyone down. But I can tell you how I spent the last 12 years of my career. Rather than as a manager or director (which I had been) I chose to fill the role of analyst. I had enough money, this was the work I really enjoyed and preferred to do anyway. I worked for managers younger than me, but I didn’t mind. Maybe my ego just isn’t that big, or maybe I was doing what I enjoyed and didn’t care about all of those status symbols; the big corner office, the personal assistant, etc. Surprisingly I found my managers seeking my thoughts on their jobs, allowing me to function almost as a mentor. That felt really good.

I was always interested in the technology and how it could make our jobs easier. While I didn’t end as a guru of the latest and greatest tech things, I was pleased that I was more comfortable using only electronic copies of documents etc. than some of my younger peers who still wanted to print everything out on paper.

So my suggestion to my fellow ‘boomers’ is, seriously consider stepping back to a position you really enjoyed and can do with less stress and effort, and let someone else have a crack at the top jobs. Remember when we first entered the labor market and how we wanted to “set the world on fire” and felt so held back? Guess what, that’s how those young folks feel. If we really are something different and special, if we really learned anything from our experience, this is the time for us to show it.

In a career spanning almost 50 years I spent almost a third of it self-employed and NOT earning the sort of money I could have if I had stayed in “corporate America”. And still, here I am with a comfortable retirement. I won’t be chartering a private jet, or staying in the Presidential Suite, when I vacation, but then I wasn’t going to be able to do that even if I had stayed in the corporate world. I guess what I’m saying is; let’s remember and honor our youth, when we didn’t buy into the idea that more money is always better, and get back to the quality of our lives, and the lives of those around us.

And yes, I’m looking forward to being able to eat at restaurants and go to resorts for vacation.

#baby boomers #economy #transitions

[tarasharmashow]

A v Happy New Year blog post and some ponderings on getting to know ourselves & our own priorities and paths & not comparing & competing in races that may not be ours’..Chill Be Happy & Each to their Own Do write in with any comments & apologies for the ramble haaha

Most often I spend about 3 months saying #HappyNewYear and then another few months questioning how is it already so many months in! In an attempt to keep wishes time sensitive and relevant I’m writing this post. Good health for us all forever and being humble, good, happy, empathetic, kind and successful people touch wood:) continue to be a line up of wishes. The list goes on, but I am trying to keep this brief as if you have been following my blog for the last 10 years or so of it’s existence you will know consistency is kinda my middle name and there is perhaps little difference in the values I hold dear and the wishes each year. 

Now that that’s out the way, how are you? How has the extended lockdown treated you or rather how have you adjusted to it? Not sure how one comments on here but if you figure it out please do write in. Never sure if there are readers on here or if this is an exercise of thinking aloud and writing to oneself haaha. Either way it is therapeutic. 

We are fine touch wood:). I assume you would have asked a question warranting that response if we were conversing face to face, hence I took the liberty of replying un prompted. Our new normal, as everyone describes it, has made virtual conversations the norm and going a step further anticipating the flow of a chat seems plausible.

I say this often on my lives, so if you follow those, apologies for the repetition, but for those who haven’t heard my mantra, here goes. Deep prayers and thoughts for those who have been directly affected by #covid. We all hope it goes and the good parts of normal resume touch wood:). But I also do see the silver linings that this time has brought for many. Bonding with family, reassessing priorities, focusing on things that really matter, appreciating nature, to name a few. With that comes often subconscious frustrations and perhaps some angst at what sometimes feels like a pausing of time. 

I for one, feel grateful for a lot. And almost in parallel I sometimes feel useless. Almost like a pendulum I find myself often oscillating between feeling great contentment and thankfulness for us all being healthy and together as a family and having created work, that enables us to work from home and earn and be with each other touch wood:), and then almost like Jekyll and Hyde emotions switch to self doubt and questioning if I shouldn’t be out acting more and doing bigger work things and earning more etc etc etc. Comparing myself to colleagues or random strangers that social media shows me. Once the wave of doubt flows, almost instantly I reprimand my mind for being so ridiculous and self pitying and I swing back to optimism, positivity and a few #YogaWithTara sessions, to re group and get back to my trademark optimistic self. Do not compare yourself to anyone else. Each to their own. Success and priorities are different for different people. Having a loving family and us all being together, healthy and happy with a good dose of work ambition to earn enough to be happy and comfortable and help those we are able to touch wood:), are values my rational side reminds me, are most important to me. Not climbing a comparative ladder whether in entertainment or business, but being aware that each of our paths are different and unique. And being happy, grateful and content in that awareness.

All the lives I do have perhaps made me more of a philosopher than I already was. Ponderer rather. As most of those are in the visual medium where I have the ability to interact real time with viewer comments rolling in, often helping me shape my often dichotomous thoughts. Apologies if translating those conversations to the written word, have turned this into a bit of a ramble, but I do find tremendous joy in writing, even if sporadically, and not very well.

Thank you. I have been helped greatly in lockdown and always, by my social media audiences. Whether reading this or not, whether listening or not, whether appreciative of my content, or not, you all have often given me the platform that back in the day, a person like me, may not have had. I am not a big shot actress and not a big corporate person, but a sort of mix of actor, entrepreneur, a devoted Mum, creator, yogi, fitness enthusiast, ponderer and more, trying to create and find ways to work and earn and stay relevant while being with my family. Your kind words and encouragement along the way, have always helped me, so thank you. And know that you are all super special in your own way. And your unique paths are just as important as anyone else’s.

I have been grateful to have received an offer to act in something and this post was sort of triggered by the games my mind was playing in trying to make the decision about how to respond to the potential offer. Would I be okay filming for 12 hours a day, away from home, although fortunately this one would be in the same city. With Covid cases much lower and hopefully covid on it’s way out and us all fine forever touch wood:), but still a need to stay safe, would I be ok going to a set with lots of people each day? If the money is good, is it worth sucking it up and doing it? I want to act more but the luxury of creating and co producing my own show for the last decade and working on my own terms creating what I like to believe is quality content which may not have a huge mass audience but does seem to have a loyal, engaged high quality one that respects the quality of our content #TheTaraSharmaShow and more. Is it time to create Season 6? Hunt and pitch to sponsors and try and woo more inspiring guests? It is hard to make it, as any good work often is. Or should I create that new fiction show I have been writing? Should I push myself and give myself the boost of confidence that has perhaps been holding me back? 

Sorry to be thinking aloud. Other parents out there probably have similarly divergent thoughts.. Cliched as it sounds, balancing it all is often not just hard but a lesson in learning who you are and what our priorities really are. I think for me creating work around my family was perhaps the main inspiration of my starting my show all that time ago, and yes unless an amazing role in an amazing film or show, perhaps I am actually content with the pace of work I have. Jobs come and go. Money and practicality are no doubt important, but the metric of valuing what matters most is often intangible, and only you know what that is for yourself. So I guess this post is about wishing us all and also saying chill, don’t stress, know yourself, do what’s right for you and your family and don’t compete in a race that’s not one you want to be in, but question, ask, ponder and create or choose your own path! 

Have a super day all and stay safe. Tarataratara!!

[thessalian]

Thess vs Understandings

Lunch with Mum today, and for once we managed a political discussion where she got off her high horse and listened to me.

The main thing is that Mum doesn’t understand how the benefits system works - or doesn’t, in the case of this country most of the time. I was arguing that a merit-based system that only allows college graduates who could pull in salaries of £30k+ per year was a bad move from the economic standpoint because, less so in this country than in the US but still a big deal, there are issues with ‘unskilled’ labour largely coming from the EU in this country. Especially in London, where a lot of the service industry relies on young people backpacking around Europe. Mum started sounding off on her usual thing about “Those homeless people you see on the street, begging and sponging off benefits could do those jobs!”

I had to flag up to her that with the introduction of Universal Credit, not only do the unemployed not get the same degree of help they got with finding employment under the Job Seekers’ Allowance programme, but you also can’t get Universal Credit unless you have an address and can prove you live in it, so people living on the streets can’t claim benefits. She just ... froze. It had never occurred to her that all those forms I’d had to fill out about where I live and my bank account and everything might mean that anyone who didn’t have either of those things might be denied assistance.

She also finally realises that I am not a communist. That I am a socialist who believes that corporations and their overly wealthy owners who don’t work for their ‘living’ and sit on hoards of more money than they could ever spend, should be taxed to the point where they’re just “really wealthy” rather than disgustingly so, and those taxes used for the betterment of the lives of the people who allow them to be so wealthy in the first fucking place.

Most of all - best of all - she understands and accepts that I have anxieties that are a lot more debilitating than I let on. I think it’s because she takes responsibility for at least part of my problems with showing vulnerability. I mean, hell, I did come by it honestly; she was the same way, for fairly understandable reasons. (I mean, come on. Single mother trying to climb the corporate ladder in the early-mid 80s. Anyone remember the early-mid 80s?) So I can tell her things like, “Honestly, it’s the ‘talking to patients on the phone’ part of my job that really wears me out because, yeah, I have a good phone manner, but it costs a lot of inner resources to put that phone manner to use because I’m desperately afraid of screwing up the interaction and I don’t have facial expressions to go by”, or “Yeah, I take the day off when there’s a Tube strike because I cannot pack myself onto public transport that is that overcrowded as it would leave me mentally unsuitable for dealing with people”. See, she used to say things like, “Everyone has to deal with things like that; that’s no excuse for slacking off”; now she says, “Everyone has anxieties, and so long as you can manage everything okay, do what you need to”.

...I wonder if my mother’s been going to therapy.

One thing she said - not about herself, mind - did make me freak right the fuck out, though. Apparently my stepfather is so fed up with the state of British politics that he actually said he was considering casting a protest vote for the Brexit Party. I told my mother, and I meant every word, that if he did that, I would never, ever speak to him again. No one who votes for that fuckhead Nigel Farage is someone I want in my life. No, no, and FUCK no. Thankfully he wasn’t serious, but the fact that someone in my family ever even briefly contemplated that ... now I know how people who have Trump voters in their families feel. I’ve worked too hard to establish some kind of decent relationship with my family to want to give it up ... but for anyone who would cast a vote for a one-issue candidate whose manifesto is unwritten but given his previous statements would involve dismantling the NHS, who was pushed out of fucking UKIP because his views were too extreme...

I cut my biological father out of my life largely because when last I checked he was was a racist, sexist ass. It would pain me to do so to my stepfather, now that we actually have some mutual respect going. But any respect I have for the man would die if he voted for Farage.

#Thess has parental units

[alj4890]

Ladders of Love ~ Fluffy Friday

(Hana x Rashad) (Maxwell x Amanda)

The Royal Romance Fan Fiction

A/N Had to miss fluffy Friday due to a sudden doctor's visit and failure to come up with anything solid or fluffy I guess I should say. Here is some late fluff.

Fluffy Friday masterlist

Title and possible pairings as requested by @krsnlove thank you for not requesting that other title 😂

Scene from Singing in the Rain that the girls are discussing.

You were meant for me, I was meant for you

Nature patterned you and when she was done

You were all the sweet things rolled up in one

You're like a plaintive melody

That never lets me free

For I'm content the angels must have sent you

And they meant you just for me

Hana sighed as she reached for another handful of popcorn. It was all so romantic. "Amanda, you were right about this scene."

"There is nothing like a romantic scene from a classic movie. All the words and glances and..." Amanda sighed as she curled up under the blanket.

Amanda and Hana were having a girls' movie night. Maxwell and Rashad had to attend a committee meeting and their wives decided to get together, relax, and watch movies. They were currently watching Singing in the Rain.

"Who knew a ladder could be so romantic?" Amanda said as she sipped her hot cocoa.

"It's the words and how Don looks at Kathy after he places her on the ladder." Hana replied. She began to daydream of Rashad looking at her like that and saying that the angels sent her just for him.

Amanda felt an idea come over her. "Hana! What if we try it?"

Hana's face showed how puzzled she was.

"What if we see how romantic a ladder can be with Maxwell and Rashad?"

Hana grinned, warming up to the idea. "But...what reason would we have to be on a ladder?"

Amanda thought a moment. Hana had a point. What legitimate reason...oh! "Hana it's Christmas! Oh!!! Library!"

Hana adored Amanda but she did question how her mind worked from time to time. "Christmas? Library? I'm afraid I don't follow."

Amanda chewed on her lip as she tried to formulate the complete idea. "We can either be using a ladder to hang a wreath or lights. And I know you have a ladder in your library. With all those bookshelves...a little romance might occur."

Hana became excited about trying this out. It was bound to be almost as romantic as the movie. "Oh, Amanda! Just imagine the romantic words they will say to us."

"All right. Stop! STOP! I am wildly out of shape." Maxwell said as he tried to keep up with her on the 48 ft. extension ladder. He looked down and gulped as they continued their climb to hang a large wreath Amanda suddenly said was needed.

Amanda rolled her eyes. So much for romance on a ladder. "Maxwell," she said sweetly as she paused, hoping he would say anything love inspired.

"What? Don't stop now! Let's get this hung so I can get back on good old terra firma."

Amanda sighed and climbed the rest of the way up. She reached part of the roof and sat on it. Maxwell placed the hook and carefully hung the wreath. Amanda leaned over to help and received a scolding for doing so. "Have you gone crazy?! You can't sit on a roof and lean over! Get back on the ladder!"

This was not how any of it was supposed to go. She slowly climbed down the ladder after him.

"Oh I love you more than anything. You are perfection personified! I will never leave you again." Amanda turned, hope in her eyes, only to see Maxwell saying all those lovely things to the ground.

Hana walked into their duchy's library to find Rashad working steadily on some contracts. She eyed the ladder behind him and decided to climb it. She was anxious to see what he would do.

Rashad lifted his eyes and smiled at her. He focused back on his contracts and flipped open one of his law books. Hana climbed a few rungs and looked over her shoulder at her husband. He wasn't paying attention. She slowly rolled the ladder to a spot that he could easily see her. She climbed a few more rungs and glanced at him. Still nothing.

"Hana would you mind finding Corporation Law by Gevurtz. I believe it is in that section you are standing near."

Hana turned to look for the book. At least he noticed me, she thought. She searched and found it. She climbed down and handed it to him. He immediately opened it and checked over some things and smiled. "Ah hah! I knew I was right about this." He muttered.

Hana sighed and went back to the ladder, she started to climb when he called out again. This is it, she thought. He is about to say something so romantic that it will make all movie lines obsolete. She turned and tried to look her loveliest doing so.

"Would you mind putting this back on the shelf?" Rashad asked without looking up.

Hana climbed back down and grabbed the book. She stomped up the rungs and shoved the book back in its spot. Romance, ladders, and Rashad clearly did not mix!

Hana left the library very disappointed and slightly mad. Why didn't he see her on that ladder and want to say things to her? She snatched the phone off the table and called Amanda.

"It didn't work!" She exclaimed when Amanda said hello.

"Mine didn't either. He talked to the ground instead of me!" Amanda said, clearly irritated.

"What is wrong with them?" Hana demanded.

Amanda snorted. "I have no idea. I even tried to look beautiful. I had on that red sweater you gave me and everything!"

Hana gasped. "You look gorgeous in that! He didn't compliment you at all? How horrible! I had on the green dress with the slit on the side. Rashad didn't say one word about it!"

"You look absolutely amazing in that dress! Is Rashad blind? He should have swept you off that ladder in the most romantic way!" Amanda said feeling indignant for her friend.

They talked some more about the utter lack of imagination or feelings their husbands possessed. After they ended the call, Hana plopped down on the couch and turned the TV on. She needed to see someone have a little romance.

Amanda too escaped into a movie. She scrolled through her video library looking for anything that would take her mind off the disappointing ladder incident.

Later that night the two couples met up for dinner. Hana and Amanda were rather cold toward their clueless husbands. Maxwell shrugged his shoulders at Rashad and studied his menu. Rashad noticed the way Hana's lips were pinched in a slight frown and escaped into his own menu.

Amanda stood up to go the ladies room and Hana volunteered to go with her. As soon as they were out of earshot, Rashad turned to Maxwell.

"Is it just me or are they mad at us?" He asked.

"I think they are, though for the life of me I am at a loss for the reason." Maxwell replied.

"Hana has acted strange ever since she climbed the ladder in our library."

"Well, Amanda has been weird since we climbed a ladder to hang a wreath." Maxwell thought about it and still had no clue.

Rashad tried to recall if he did or said something and came up with nothing.

The ladies returned and picked up their menus. Once their orders were taken, the guys attempted to be romantic by asking their wives to dance. Some slow piano music was playing and couples were beginning to go to the dimly lit floor. Hana and Amanda shared an eye roll and got back up to dance.

Rashad took Hana in his arms and smiled down at her. She stared at his shoulder. "Hana? Why did you change dresses? You looked stunning in that green one you had on earlier."

Hana looked up at him. "What?"

Rashad blinked. "You look beautiful in this too! It's only that the green dress was making it difficult to finish those contracts. I was ready to pull you off that ladder and--"

"You noticed me on the ladder?!" Hana exclaimed.

Rashad looked puzzled. "Of course I saw you on the ladder. Why do you think I asked you to get the bo--"

"Forget that! You noticed me on the ladder and wanted to sweep me off my feet?"

Rashad nodded. "Very much so." He gently kissed her. Hana felt her heart race. It worked! He could be romantic with a ladder. She moved closer and kissed him again. "What else did you think about me on the ladder?" She asked. He whispered what else he thought, bringing a rosy tint to her cheeks. She sighed happily as they danced.

Maxwell slid his hand down to the small of Amanda's back and placed their clasped hands at his heart. He studied her face, wondering what was going through her mind. "You look amazing in that sweater." He whispered.

"Hmm? Oh. Thank you." She replied.

Maxwell pulled her closer against him. "If we had not been so high up on that ladder, I would have probably tried something."

"What?!" Amanda's eyes quickly moved from the other couples to his face.

"You were very tempting in that, climbing in front of me. It's a wonder I didn't fall off."

"You noticed me on the ladder? You thought about me? Climbing the ladder?"

He looked at her and wondered if he would ever fully understand her. For some reason, she seemed stuck on the whole ladder concept. "Of course I noticed you. You were right in front of me! But this sweater..." He kissed her ear and whispered how he felt looking at her in it.

Amanda smiled and kissed him. He had thought things that made her heart skip beats. Romance had occurred on the ladder after all. She could not be more pleased. She glanced over and saw Hana's delighted smile. Hana looked at her and mouthed that it did actually work. Amanda mouthed that it did for her too.

Who knew ladders could be so romantic?

Tagging those who wanted extra fluff 😉@brightpinkpeppercorn @riseandshinelittleblossom-deact @zaffrenotes  @fullbeaumonty  @speedyoperarascalparty  @bobasheebaby  @tmarie82   @littleblossom-18 @cocomaxley  @ehkw1989  @hopefulmoonobject @leelee10898  @itsstillnotwhatyouthink   @littlecrookedheart @mrswalkerwrites @debramcg1106 @krsnlove @littleblossom357 @ritachacha

#choices trr #the royal romance #trr #choices #trr maxwell #maxwell beaumont #hana x rashad #maxwell x amanda #fluffy friday

[rom-e-o]

Souyo: “I’m never going to leave you.” ^_______^

[Annnnd finished! Thanks so much to @livefreeordie13 for requesting such a fantastic prompt (and for also being really patient and waiting for me to finish it, haha!) This is a longer one, and it’s a little angsty, but I hope it’s enjoyable!]

[AO3 Link is here.]

Yosuke was getting too old for this.

Seriously, he had been out of college for almost five years and was still working at Junes. Even worse, he still worked regular shifts on the sales floor despite a recent promotion to a manager position. He thought he’d climbed the ladder enough to not have to don an apron and work the sales floor, and by proxy, dealing with customers that often ranged from rude to extremely concerning levels of…weird. 

Sometimes the people he dealt with were pleasant, but even when customers were perfect angels, he was still obliged to serve them and assist with favors unconditionally. Some days, he was lucky if those favors were even the technical confines of his job description.

He’d thought he’d hated working at Junes in high school while living at Inaba. At the time, the back-breaking workloads and excessive night shifts, sometimes forcing him to miss homework deadlines and sometimes even forego studying altogether, had been bad enough. He never would have thought in a million years, after studying hard in college and even majoring in business, that he’d be right back where he started. Well, almost back where he started.

Although Yosuke had always had a passion for music, he’d ultimately decided to major in business in college.

Yu, his boyfriend turned husband, had pointed out that Yosuke had a knack for critical thinking and decision-making. Hell, it was because of Yosuke’s tenacity that the Investigation Team had been created in the first place. He’d also been the one to first connect the murders in Inaba to the strange visions on the Midnight Channel. Once more, when it came to his position at work, the so-called Prince of Junes was well-known for his surprising professionalism and level head, at least in a business sense. Even during the legendarily hellish Golden Week sales events, Yosuke kept his composure.

Even when Teddie has first crawled out of the television and was attracting the attention of various Junes shoppers after abducting a massage chair in his brightly-colored mascot costume, Yosuke had easily managed to lie to the other employees about Teddie’s identity. He’d even persuaded his parents to take the blond into their home.

The decision to pursue business had made his father happy for obvious reasons. It made the aging man happy to see his son climbing up the corporate, business ladder.

At least one person was happy.

Upon arriving at his apartment’s front door after a grueling ten-hour shift, he barely had the energy to slip the key into the lock. It took him another handful of seconds to actually find the strength to turn it.

“I’m home,” he called.

He was greeted first by a soft meow.

A small cat named ‘Mici’ hopped off the couch in the living area and trotted to the door. Yosuke clicked the door shut behind him and scooped the ball of fluff into his arms.

“Hey, you little rascal,” Yosuke said, rubbing the kitten’s fat belly before plopping him back into the hardwood floor. “Where’s your dad, huh?”

Then, a human voice bid him hello from further in the complex.

“Welcome back,” Yu said with a smile, leaning out from behind the corner.

There he was.

He was standing in the kitchen and donned in loose, casual clothes. He also wore a soft pink apron and was standing over a large pot of curry that was filling the entire apartment with the appealing aroma of mixed spices.

“Another long day at work?” Yu asked, smile falling as he noted the plum-colored circles under his husband’s eyes.

“Yeah, just a bit,” Yosuke said, laughing humorlessly as Yosuke meandered close and bumped his head against Yu’s shoulder. He mumbled something against Yu’s arm, but the thicker material of his sweatshirt muffled the words. Concerned, Yu sat stopped stirring the pot and averted his attention to Yosuke.

“Are you okay?” he asked sincerely.

“…No,” Yosuke huffed with a sigh. “I’m so run down, man.”

A frown eclipsed Yu’s face and made him look even more mature than usual. He raised an arm to help hist him upright. “That’s understandable. How long was the shift you just worked?”

“About ten hours,” Yosuke said with another sigh. “They asked me for more overtime this week and I guess I couldn’t say no.”

Yu’s face had become austere at the sound of the number reluctantly muttered from Yosuke’s lips. He said quietly, “It’s worse than I thought. You’ve worked past closing almost every day this week alone.”

“Someone has to do it,” Yosuke mumbled in reply.

“I’m not arguing that,” Yu replied, raising an arm to ruffle his boyfriend’s hair. “I’m saying just because you’re the manager doesn’t mean you should be the only one to stay behind every night. Even if you’re getting paid, it’s not healthy to work such long shifts on a normal basis. Anyone would be exhausted.”

A silence stretched between them.

“…I’m not getting paid for the extra hours,” Yosuke admitted, giving Yu’s arm a little squeeze. This time, his husband’s expression changed from concerned to angry. The anger wasn’t directed at Yosuke but was rather unapologetically fixated on Junes.

“That’s illegal,” he said, silver bangs almost hiding the new darkness that touched his eyes. “Yosuke, you can’t keep doing this.”

“At least I have weekends off,” he tried to reason guiltily. Almost by reflex, Yosuke felt the compulsive need to defend Junes. 

After all, it had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. The mere name was practically ingrained in his identity. People began to call him the ‘Prince of Junes’ by the time he was in high school.

For some reason, especially as a manager, any negative comments about the business felt more personal than they should have.

“Having the bare minimum of time off isn’t enough,” Yu said sternly. “That shouldn’t be negotiable. Yosuke, I had no idea it was this bad.”

The words hit Yosuke hard.

Despite his exhaustion, he forced his body upright to wrap his arms more comfortably around Yu’s torso. The action was reciprocated in a heartbeat as Yu hauled his husband close to his chest, rubbing the bump and kinks in his exhausted spine with the same hands Yosuke knew so well.

“I’m sorry,” Yosuke said after a couple moments.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Yu replied promptly. He closed his eyes as he felt the guilt of his sentiments linger in the back of his mind. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh or sound so irritated. “I’m sorry. Now isn’t the time or place to have this conversation. I know you’re tired, so let’s…”

Yosuke shook his head again, his expression even more forlorn than before.

“I know, but still…” Yosuke said, averting his eyes shyly from Yu’s, “…I feel like a terrible husband. I’m never home with you, and when I am, I feel like all I do is complain about work.”

Before Yu could open his mouth to comment, Yosuke continued, “I know. I know that you ‘don’t mind’ that, and that’s wonderful. You’re wonderful. That’s why I feel so terrible. I don’t even have the energy to talk to you and listen to things that you want to share with me. I never take the time to ask you to confide in me. I’m always taking from you.”

Yu’s eyes widened in shock as Yosuke began to pull away from the embrace slowly. Before they could separate, Yu used his strength to pull their bodies back together. He felt Yosuke flinch in his arms, but the other man made no attempt to move away.

“You don’t take anything from me,” Yu said sternly, not liking how self-deprecating Yosuke’s tone was. His hands moved in large, soothing circles up and down Yosuke’s back.

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Yosuke replied, punctuating the sentence with an exhausted sigh.

“I don’t, actually.”

Yu continued to hold him closer and tighter. He had no intentions of letting him go anytime soon. The confessions Yosuke had made in mere moments before were far too concerning to be remedied with a single embrace. 

In fact, his insistence led to Yosuke redirecting his gaze back to his husband’s steely eyes. Caramel orbs met silver ones, and this time, Yosuke forced himself to not look away.

His trembling hands drifted upward from Yu’s arms and up to cup his cheeks. The tips of his work-worn fingers traced up and down Yu’s softly-shaven jawline with the utmost gentility. The cold metal of his engagement ring was a stark contrast to the warmth and virility he felt with Yu so close to him.

“I mean, you should be with someone who doesn’t…” Yosuke whispered, composing himself further with a shuddering breath, “You should be with someone who doesn’t take so much from you. I feel like…I’ve made our marriage a one-way street, and that’s not fair to you.”

Yosuke’s felt Yu’s hands tighten around his biceps at the confession. Even if he hadn’t been looking into his smoky grey eyes, he could feel the pain radiating through Yu’s being at the sound of his words. 

He felt another jab of self-hatred for putting the man he loved so much, his partner, through such agony.

To Yosuke, it was just another reason why he didn’t deserve someone as wonderful as Yu in his life.

It took Yu a few moments to regain his composure before responding.

“Our relationship is not a one-way street,” he said, tone shifting from concern to heightened anxiety with each word. “Yosuke, I love you.”

Yosuke laughed painfully. “I can’t imagine why.”

Stunned by the reply, Yu shook Yosuke’s hands from his face with ease. He then hauled his husband close until their foreheads and chests touch. His lips found Yosuke’s with ease from having kissed him so many times before. Further closing the distance between them, their mouths molded seamlessly as Yu squeezed Yosuke into an even tighter embrace. The kiss was chaste but passionate and almost desperate in nature. Yu kissed the corners of his husband’s mouth first before taking a shuddering breath and kissing his lips fully.

In an instant, Yosuke’s demeanor changed. Each kiss was returned with feverish intensity. Each touch and tiny lovebite was reciprocated tenfold as seconds turned to minutes in each other’s arms. They kissed each other until breathlessness consumed them and forced them to part ways temporarily.

“I love you so much, Yu,” Yosuke said through clenched teeth. A newfound wetness made his eyes glassy, and traces of heavy tears threatened to gather along his lower lash line. “I just wish I was a better person. I know I don’t deserve you, and…I don’t understand why you don’t just leave me.”

The statement was kissed away from Yosuke’s lips again, leaving him breathless in Yu’s loving embrace. Any half-hearted objection that threatened to rise in his throat was smothered instantly. 

“I’m never going to leave you,” he whispered into Yosuke’s ear, his grip so tight that he feared he might leave possessive bruises on his husband’s arms. “You’re perfect the way you are. Yes, life is hard right now, but I know this isn’t how you want things to be. We have to keep going until things get better. We have to make it out together.”

“Partner…”

The tears rolled down Yosuke’s cheeks freely. Yu didn’t waste a second kissing them away, then dropping another kiss on his husband’s flushed cheeks.

“Remember back in high school?” Yu asked, arms snaking around Yosuke’s waist. “When we solved that series of murders, it was the same thing. You had some bad days. I had some bad days too, and even back then, you were still there for me when nobody else was.”

Bitter memories of Nanako’s hospitalization flooded Yosuke’s mind. He remembered when he’d returned to hospital after Yu insisting that everyone go home to escape the snow. Yosuke had lingered behind and, as a result, Yu had pulled him close and cried on his shoulder for hours.

To this day, they were the only two on the entire Investigation Team that had seen each other’s tears.

“You need me right now,” Yu said comfortingly. “That’s good. I want you to rely on me. I also know, if I ever needed you, you’d drop everything to come and help me. Am I wrong?”

Yosuke sniffled and wiped his eyes.

“Of course, you’re not wrong,” he replied, voice vacillating from all the emotions that were thundering through him. “You’re my partner! If you needed me, I’d do anything for you.”

Yu smiled back at him, reaching out to gently cup a tearful cheek. The act elicited a small smile from Yosuke, who leaned into the tender touch gratefully.

Yu whispered tenderly, “Then that’s more than enough.”

As if sensing the tumultuous energy in the room, Mici approached the duo and wound her body and fluffy tail around their entwined legs. When she let out a soft meow and rubbed her face against Yosuke’s trousers, no doubt leaving behind a trail of cat hair with each caress, the couple laughed and bent down to pick her up.

They held the tiny cat between their bodies before swaying back together for another, familial embrace. A silent ‘thank you’ fell from Yosuke’s lips as he squeezed Yu lightly.

They kissed again, and this time, a paw tiny reached up to playfully swat at their cheeks to redemand attention.

Perhaps their life together wasn’t technically perfect, Yosuke thought, but it was more than enough for him.

#Persona 4 #Souyo #Ask Meme #livefreeordie13 #Long post

[amarauder]

0.10 madame pamplemousse and her incredible edibles

sincerely, the blue and silver gryffindor

a princess of magic novel

draco malfoy x reader

When the news went out that the restaurant was opening again, the phone never stopped ringing. By now, only the wealthiest citizens of Paris were able to afford a table, but even so, the tables were by invitation only. The head of FOOD Corporation had ordered his private jet to spin around in mid-flight when he got the news. The President of France had a special body double take over the engagements so that he might attend.

But eight o'clock that morning, all of Lard's cooking staff had been despatched to buy the necessary ingredients. Lard was amazed by the recipe's simplicity.

"You mean that's it? There's nothing else to it?"

"Just what's on the list, Uncle," said Y/N.

"But surely some extra butter, a drizzle of double cream?"

"Just what's on the list," she repeated.

"Well, I never!" said Lard. "And there it was all this time, right under my very nose!" And he went off muttering to himself, occasionally lashing out to punch a wall or smash a piece of furniture.

By midday all of the ingredients had been bought, chopped, filleted, sliced, crushed, and blended as dictated, to the letter, in the recipe. Smiling practice began soon after and work had to stop for a good two hours. Seeing her chance, Y/N slipped away.

As quickly as she could, she took a saucepan and began to prepare the stock, just as she had done the night before in Madame Pamplemousse's kitchen. But the freedom she had felt there now abandoned her and in its place came a little, creeping fear. A fear that her recipe was no good-that it would backfire horribly and her uncle would be triumphant after all. But then the first delicate threads of steam rose up from the cooking pot to curl about her nostrils, and in that instant she forgot her fear. A new, coolly detached part of herself took hold, no longer rushing, but allowing the recipe to take shape at its own pace and natural rhythm.

Then, when it was done, she removed the saucepan from the heat and let it cook in a special hiding place in one of the store cupboards. This she managed just in time before a great stampede of chefs, forced to stop work during smiling practice, came charging through the kitchen doors.

By seven o'clock huge crowds had formed outside the restaurant and were screaming and shouting to be let in. Lard had the full assistance of the military and the police, and great steel barriers had been set up around the restaurant, patrolled by armed guards. Television crews were filming all the commotion and the crowd became hysterical when a helicopter appeared overhead, hovered above the restaurant, and a rope ladder dropped down. A bald, faceless man in a grey suit, who was the President of France, climbed out of the helicopter, closely followed by a small, withered-looking man, who was the head of the FOOD Corporation.

It was more than Monsieur Lard could ever have dreamed of and he stepped out to meet the crowd, resplendent in his new pink and diamond-spangled suit.

"Ladies and gentlement," he said in a voice like warm margarine. Then he paused to grin at everyone. "It is my immense honor to welcome you tonight to the Grand Re-Opening of the Squealing Pig. So far the world has only had a taste, a first taste of what is, by all accounts, the most delectable, the most delicious, the most extraordinary, the most incredible tasting edible in all the world!"

There were huge cheers and applause.

"Who wants some more?"

There were shouts of "Me! I do! Me! Me!"

Lard raised his hands to silence them. "Well, I've news for you, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight you shall have as much as you can eat!"

And the crowd went wild.

In the kitchens the cooks were rushing about frantically. They had made vast quantities of the recipe and were spooning it at the double on to plates which had been polished up to a sparkle by Y/N. The waiters were waiting anxiously, shouting for the cooks to hurry up.

A fight nearly broke out between one of the waiters and the Head Chef. It was the whippet-thin waiter who also acted as Lard's spy.

"If he shots one more time," whispered the Head Chef, "I'll chuck him in the deep-fat fryer!"

"Don't bother," Y/N whispered back. "Listen, I've got a plan." And she told him about the secret recipe she had prepared and how they were to serve it for the second course.

Next door, Paris's richest and most powerful were banging their cultery on the tables, and when they saw the waiters marching out of the kitchen they began to whoop like monkeys. They pounced on the food, saliva dribbling from their chins, and for a while there was no sound but for the busy scraping of metal on china plates.

Monsieur Lard first knew there was something wrong when he saw that people had stopped eating-not the way they had done when they first tasted the delicacy from Madame Pamplemousse's shop. Then they had stopped eating out of awe and wonder. This time they were frowning.

Lard's beady little eyes darted about the tables and he saw the President of France chewing slowly with a terrible furrowed brow and a man at another table with a napkin over his mouth. A woman was puckering her lips as if she was about to be sick, and then he saw the President stop chewing and suddenly he spit violently on to the table. All at one, everyone was coughing, spitting, spluttering, as if they had been poisoned.

Lard leapt up, waving his arms around. "Wait!" he cried. "Stop! There must be some mistake. Everyone stop spitting this instant!"

And so they did, not because he told them to but because just then the restaurant doors flew open and out came a solemn procession of cooks, all dressed in their aprons and white hats. And at the front there was the Head Chef, bearing in his hand a tiny plate. This he delivered to the President. "Monsieur," he said, "please accept this from the kitchen, with our apologies."

The President grunted and, as the crowd watched, he lifted ip a tiny spoonful of the food to his mouth. Then he ate another spoonful, and then another. The cooks delivered plates to other tables and soon everyone was doing the same, for Y/N's recipe had the most incredible effect. It was so deliciously light, so fresh and zingy that people quite forgot their sickness and were soon calling out for more.

On seeing this extraordinary turn of events, Lard got out from under the tablecloth where he had been hiding and dusted himself down. He had no idea what was going on but assumed the cooks had made a mistake with the first batch of the recipe. He was going to flambé whoever was responsible but, meanwhile, he improvised.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he grinned broadly, "as you have probably guessed, that first course you received was really a test! A test to see whether you are truly the finest gourmets in Paris!"

A small murmur of approval went round the tables. "And you have passed that test! Admirably! You are not only the finest gourmets but also Paris's best and most beautiful people!"

There was an even bigger murmur of approval. But while he was speaking, a black limousine had slid silently up to the pavement in front of the restaurant. A chauffeur got out to open the passenger door and out stepped the black-suited figure of Monsieur Langoustine. All eyes were on him as he walked up to Monsieur Lard.

"Well, well, nice of you to drop by, Monsieur Langoustine," said Lard coolly. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"The pleasure is all mine, Monsieur," said Langoustine. "For tonight I am here to celebrate Paris's new gastronomic star." From out of his long black coat he produced a large bouquet of flowers. "May I present my compliments to the chef?"

"Really, Monsieur Langoustine," said Lard, softening like rancid butter, "you shouldn't have. Though, of course, I accept. For it is an honor and a privilege to be at last recognised as the greatest chef the world has ever-"

Monsieur Langoustine loudly cleared his throat. This was a disturbingly high-pitched, barely human kind of sound, which had the effect of immediately silencing Monsieur Lard. "Perhaps you didn't hear me correctly, Monsieur," said Langoustine icily, "I said I was here to pay my compliments to the chef." He had raised voice so that all might hear it, although this was unnecessary, since everyone was listening intently. And then he pointed his black-gloved hand in Y/N's direction. She had been standing in a huddle with the other chefs but, receiving his summons, she stepped out from among them and Monsieur Langoustine presented her with flowers.

Attatched to them was a note, written in exquisite purple script, which read:

To Y/N, from he friend and colleague, Madame Pamplemousse

Next to her name there was what appeared to be a smudge of ink, but when Y/N looked closer she saw it was the tiny imprint of a paw.

"Congratulations, Mademoiselle," said Langoustine in his soft, piping voice. "People like us should stick together," And then he raised her hand to his thin red lips.

A camera flash went off. A photographer had caught the moment and the next day the picture would appear on the cover of every national newspaper: Y/N in her chef's whites, holding a bunch of brilliantly colored flowers, beside a rather sinister-looking man in dark glasses. Above it the headlines would read:

LANGOUSTINE CONGRATULATES NEW GASTRONOMIC STAR

☛☚

RESTAURANT OWNER STEALS RECIPE FROM HIS OWN NIECE

☛☚

MONSIEUR LARD: THIEF!

And in the later editions:

THE MOST INCREDIBLE EDIBLE EVER

TASTED: WAS IT REALLY ALL

A HOAX?

The photographer had also managed to get Monsieur Lard in the picture, his face bright pink, dripping with sweat. As far as situations in which to be unmasked as a thief go, this was arguably the worst. He had personally seen to it that every exit was either fenced off or patrolled by men with guns. His every facial gesture was being broadcast on national television and he was surrounded by a large angry mob who might easily tear him pieces.

But what they actually did was applaud. No one jeered, no one heckled or booed or hissed. They stood up and clapped as if the whole thing had been a theatrical event, an entrainment and nothing more.

Then someone called out Y/N's name and a small tussle broke out among the press, trying to get the first interview. Paris's top children's clothing designer was there, trying to get her to model a new kind of pink fairy outfit with elasticated wings. But no one could find her.

During all the commotion, while everyone's attention had been diverted by the flashing lights of the cameras, Monsieur Langoustine and Y/N had discreetly made their way through the crowd. And when they reached the limousine, the chauffeur got out to open the door and together they slipped inside. And if anyone had been looking they might have been surprised to see the driver of the car was not even human, but a cat: a long white cat walking on its hind legs and wearing a peaked cap. But no one did notice and before they would have had the chance, the car had already started and was moving silently away.

master masterlist

sincerely, the blue and silver gryffindor

#sincerely the blue and silver gryffindor #draco malfoy x reader #the princess of magic #a princess of magic book

[ninequestions9]

Ureem, 25, Actuary

What is the biggest frustration you’re facing now?

I think it would be just to balance everything in life because in life you’ve got so many priorities. You’ve got work, you’ve got your family, church, God, and making sure you’re being satisfied there. Essentially you’re learning, you’re continuously finding answers to your questions. At work, I wouldn’t say it’s frustrating. I would say it’s a bit more challenging. I was talking about this with my godmother, she lives in England. A couple of days ago she wished me happy birthday so I just responded to her with a rant. She lives in the town of Lincoln and she’s a missionary. She became my godmother because she was very good friends with my mom in Pakistan while she was visiting so my mom wanted her to be my godmother.

    Anyhow, so she and I were talking about how life as a Christian in a corporate world can be challenging because everyone keeps saying you have to climb this imaginary ladder and the only way to get anywhere is climbing up. God forbid you take a step down. Then everyone has their own secular based opinion on what kind of projects you want to get on, networking, even if you don’t like talking to people, you’re supposed to be this version of yourself. That’s been the most challenging part. Being in an environment where people are focused on career rather than viewing career from a very spiritual level. I think the one thing I concluded in the conversation with my godmother was that after much going back and forth with my own self, side lining my ego, and just saying to myself “It’s ok if I don’t get on the most career benefitting project.” And it’s ok if I don’t love what I do. One thing when I was in college, everyone said if you love what you do you’ll never work a day. I was like “Ok, great, that’s fine.” Unfortunately, with what I love to do, you can’t always put food on the table. So there’s always that inherent responsibility. I’ve come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter if you love what you do, as long as you mildly enjoy it. I guess I’m there. But it matters that you love who you do it for and to me that’s God. So if I love God, whatever I do, I do it for him. Coming to that conclusion has definitely been the most challenging part and finding those answers is frustrating. We’re now at the back end of it all, but yeah that was definitely the most challenging and frustrating part of this past year.

2. What trait do you wish you most had?

Patience. I feel like at times I act on impulse before praying about things; that’s not my go-to thing. I think I act on impulse and I feel like certain things can be avoided if I had prayed about it or was a bit more cognizant of it. Definitely patience. Definitely a bit more time to think about things, to think about steps, decisions. I’ve definitely learned from my mistakes. There are definitely things I’m a bit more cognizant about when I take my time to think about them. And to be fair, I think that acting on impulse is a kind of general theme around our generation. As much as I’d like to distance myself from people my own age, unfortunately, I tend to make the same mistakes. Some people will say that’s youth, but I try to find ways not to use that excuse. Just be a bit more wise or ask God to grant me wisdom. If Solomon can do it, why can’t I?

3. What are 3 characteristics you look for in a friend?

Loyalty and honesty. They kind of go hand in hand. Just loyalty in general is one of the first things I look for. The second thing…it’s important, but it’s not that important; It helps bridge the gap a lot easier, coming from different cultural backgrounds, but having a similar world view. If it’s faith based, that’s good, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be. It just has to be a bit more rational in leaving space for question. I think that’s a good foundation for a good friendship. Lastly, probably a good sense of humor. A good sense of humor is kind of subjective. I was with a friend and he was showing me certain memes and I didn’t really find them funny, but I snickered, just to be nice. But I guess that’s why it’s important to have a similar world view because the jokes that he was sharing with me stem from a very different world view. So that’s why we didn’t really click on the sense of humor as a consequence of not having a similar world view.

4. What makes you feel brave?

I was reading something by Winston Churchill once and he said something like if you do have enemies, it’s a good thing because it means you’ve stood up for something in your life. Not sure how much I level with that, but it’s a good starting point. What makes me feel brave is if I do something that I know I’m not Biblically incoherent or outside of God’s will. If I’m standing for something that is Biblically coherent and within God’s will, then I know I have nothing to fear. If you think about it, people like Abraham, like Joseph, they were asked to do some really incredible things. Joseph was asked to take his wife and his child to Egypt and, overnight, he was asked to take a pregnant woman, who might have been stoned to death for adultery. Abraham was asked to pack up and leave home and go to Egypt. But there was this sense of bravery in them mainly because they knew it was God’s will. I’m not going to bring up the argument of Biblical coherency, but for them it was that God asked them to do something, they did it, and that’s why they felt brave. Not because of their own bravery but because they knew God was leading them. So moments like those.

5. What makes you feel vulnerable?

As odd as it sounds, I guess, surrendering control because there are many times in life when you have to do it and you’re only in control of your life when you know that you’re not in control of your life. At least that’s what I’ve experienced. I’ve only ever been content with my life when I’m not planning things or plotting moves for the future. None of them are nefarious but anyway…but yeah I think that’s the only time when I’ve not felt vulnerable. I’ve always constantly felt vulnerable when I’m planning for the future and I guess that’s the error. I’m trying to enthrone my own will for my life and I need to stop doing that. The more I stop doing that, the more content I am with the present. I’m sure God doesn’t say “Don’t plan for the future.” God doesn’t endorse the whole YOLO thing. He doesn’t endorse the brand, but he knows it’s true. God definitely wants you to plan for the future, but he doesn’t want that to be your thing that you’re doing. In the Bible God says the animals and birds in the sky I take care of and you are more valuable to me than these things so why wouldn’t I take care of you; why wouldn’t I see what’s best for you? Why worry about these things? Vulnerability strikes when I try to control things and then when things go out of my control I’m like “Oh, crap.”

6. What was your proudest moment?

I don’t think I’ve ever been that proud of myself. I don’t think I’ve done anything noteworthy. As strange as that sounds. Noteworthy things have happened in my life, but I don’t think I’ve deserved them. I kind of shy away from taking credit because I know how much work I put into things and how much is God’s grace. That’s why there’s not many things I’m proud of in my life, but I’m proud of my parents. They showed immense bravery for leaving everything in Pakistan behind, leaving their positions, leaving all the hard work they put in to get to the places they wanted to be in order to hit the reset button. I’m proud of them for that because that takes immense bravery. I haven’t done anything like that to be proud of myself about.

7. Who is your role model / hero and why?

Personally, I don’t like to have role models, especially humans. What I do like to have are people that I can learn from. My dad is not the perfect father, but he has qualities that I’m proud of and experiences that I have learned from. Earlier on, we were talking about my career and somethings that have been challenging; my father’s actually experienced that and I was too young to understand what he was going through, but now I do. I’m learning from some of his experiences that he went through when I was fifteen and I’m gaining context now when I’m twenty-five and kind of going through similar experiences. Similarly, I’ve got other individuals around me who when they were going through these experiences I was too young to understand them, but now I’ve reached a point in my life where I understand them a lot better. I wouldn’t say I have role models, but I have a lot of people I can learn from  and lean not to make the same mistakes. I’ve got good mentors who advise me not only on the good things they’ve done but also on the bad decisions they’ve made.

8. What is one life lesson you’d like to pass down to future generations?

The world is shallow. Don’t get swallowed by the shallowness of it all. You see so many things, bright lights and all that, but it’s very hollow and it will never satisfy you. In my own life, I’ve experienced that. It’s always when I’m in New York unfortunately. That’s like my go-to thing. Nothing against the city or the people who live there, but I think that what I’ve always experienced is this amazing sense of loneliness.

    I was in church last week and the pastor was referencing a quote from Mother Teresa and I think Mother Teresa once said essentially, the West is stricken with a poverty of loneliness and I think that stems from us chasing after things that really have no long lasting meaning. In life you go from graduating high school, some people don’t even get to do that, then some people either go to college or some people go to vocational school or wherever. Check. Then some people find a girl, settle down, get a family. Check. I feel like people around us who think from a secular view think about life as a check list; keep marking off things, keep marking off things. That’s where the shallowness comes from. In 2018, you need these clothes, this hairstyle; 2019, this is in. The color of the year is magenta now. Who comes up with this stuff? Then people go to cocktail parties and say “I’m wearing so and so” and you’re just like “Cool. Great.” It’s such a shallow chase. It’s good to have money, but the chase of it is so shallow and hollow. It doesn’t satisfy you. I know on Instagram you see so and so with so and so and we all just wind up competing with one another and then some of us lie. It’s just an endless chase of being something that the world wants you to be. On the other hand, Jesus says come to me all who are labored and I will give you rest. At times to some people, that sounds too good to be true. In reality it’s not. So that’s one thing I will impart to the younger generation is stop chasing after life and the shallowness of it all and start searching for truth.  

9. What is your opinion of Jesus?

Jesus was a very interesting figure. There are a lot of tags and labels you can put on Jesus. There are many times I think about what it must have been like. In the academic world, when Jesus started his ministry, it’s referred to as the ‘Jesus Movement.’ Just because the things that he said that were so controversial; “Love one another,” “Pray for your enemies” and all those things. I love how he responded to people. My favorite response of his was when he was in Jerusalem and the teachers of the law come and they want to trap him because the Roman soldiers were there and they wanted him to commit some sort of blasphemy. They basically wanted him to say don’t pay taxes to Caesar because they thought he was a nationalist Jewish leader. They ask him, “Is it right to pay taxes to Caesar?” What happens is, Jesus responds by asking for a coin and he asks the crowd “Whose face is on this coin?” They say, “Caesar.” Then he says, “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar. Give to God what belongs to God.” A lot of people have said that if the questioner was asking from a place of honesty, he should have had a follow up question. The follow up question should have been, “What belongs to God?” More likely than not, Jesus’s response would have been “Whose image is on you?” That would earn a Mic drop! And that is such a great way of how he maneuvered through people’s questions. I think that was the most fascinating thing to see was God’s wisdom. That’s just amazing. There’s a reason that to this date we haven’t seen anyone speak like that or we haven’t heard anyone say things like that.

    More secular people like to refer to Gandhi and bring up his examples, but Gandhi wouldn’t have been here had he not attended a lecture on the Beatitudes at UCL in London. So his nonviolence movement actually stemmed from the Bible. It didn’t happen because Gandhi was nonviolent. So the originator of this idea of nonviolence and this sheer sense of wisdom stems from Jesus. There are a lot of labels, but I think it’s really God’s wisdom and how he and Jesus brought everything back to God’s relationship with man and his identity and what he’s going to do for us. That’s what fascinates me about him the most because he always tries to show us what’s important.

#Questions #Nine #interview #conversation #thoughts #career #job #life #real #reality #future #Jesus #Christianity #Bible #scripture #Spirituality #secular #world view #world #brave #vulnerable #dad #advice #Mother Teresa #Gandhi #Winston Churchill #February #2019 #millenials #patience

[brulermag]

An Immigrant Nation

I remember taking the Greyhound to Houston, Texas coming from New Jersey, and there was a long line. This was the third connection I'd made and I was exhausted. Carrying around a few bags, I listened to my music while I waited to check in. Suddenly, my headphones got caught on my jacket and snapped and I was visibly upset. The guy behind me who was Mexican, reached into his bag and without hesitation, handed me a pair of headphones. "There you go! I know how it is to be without music on these long rides." "Thank you so much!"

We proceeded to get on the bus and he sat next to me. "I'm heading back to Houston to see my wife. I've been gone for a while and I can't wait to see her." He pulled out a picture and said, "This is Kelly and my daughter Raye." This man seemed proud of his family and his eyes welled up when he spoke about them. His name was Guadalupe and he lived in Houston, Texas but was coming from Louisiana because of work there. He was undocumented and was trying to make a living for his family. Because Texas is predominantly Mexican-American, he said he was shunned by his own community because he could not afford paperwork and staying legally in this country.

"They say they are a community and help each other, but Mexicans who come here and have babies born here in the USA tell their kids to look and act white and to not speak Spanish. They don't ever tell you this but its true. They feel that it will give their children a better future to submit to White people rather than challenge the 'norm.' And then the ones that are newly undocumented, well they don't help much. Some people are very welcoming but my very own people have looked down on me. I don't expect people to help though, so I look for whatever work there is to support my family. This time around, it's in Louisiana. And pretty soon I'll move my family down here. Its hard because if I do the move and I lose my job because of ICE, or before I get my paperwork to be legal, I can be deported and what will happen of my family?" This was in 2000.

A few years later, I was a server at a very popular restaurant in Philadelphia and as I waited for patrons to come and dine, I stood next to one of the bus boys and talk to kill time. His name was Reimundo and he was an undocumented Mexican. He was super polite, soft spoken, well mannered and kind. He did everything with a smile and never asked questions. I asked him if he planned to go from bus boy to server because of his demeanor and professionalism.

He looked up and said, "I cannot." "How come?" I asked. "You'd be great!" As naive as I was, I asked those questions. I'm a Puerto Rican. We're American citizens. Born and raised in New Jersey. While I have faced racism I could never walk in the footsteps of Reimundo. I never had to move to a new place and learn a new language. In a place where they didn't want me. Where I don't really exist because I can't afford a visa/citizenship. That I would be giving myself away if I tried to apply because I was already in the country illegally...simply because I wanted a better life for myself and too often times my family. I can't even imagine how that feels. Where do I go? Where do I stay? What do I do? As Americans, we complain about a lot of things, but this is a whole other level.

If you're harassed or a victim of crime, who do you go to? Many undocumented people never see a doctor or a lawyer or a cop simply because they are afraid to be reported and taken away. Reimundo looked and me and said, "I begged for this job. I have friends who know the owner and they told him I was a hard worker. He liked me and here I am. I can't become a server. It's too suspicious." "So how long have you been in America?" "3 and a half years." "Did you come with your family?" "No. I came alone. My entire family is in Mexico. I came here for them. There was no jobs in Mexico. Nothing. My family was facing extreme poverty. My mother was getting sicker. I needed to do something. She told me not to come because she feared for my safety, but I would do anything for my mamita linda."

I didn't ask him how he got here because I felt like I was already being intrusive. But he told me anyway: "I ran. I ran and ran and it took a long time but I finally got over." He paused and walked over to a table to pour water. He came back and opened a small booklet he had in his back pocket. "This is my saint of a mother." "When was the last time you saw her? Does she come here to visit?" "I haven't seen my mother physically since I came here. 3 and a half years. And I miss them like crazy." "Don't you ever feel lonely and want to hug them? I know if it was me, I'd go crazy." "Well, yes of course! But I am here working hard for them. Every dime is for her and my brothers and sisters. I leave here and I go to my other job. I repeat. This is my life. I made this sacrifice for them. I don't regret it one bit."

With the hostility of The Trump Era almost 17 years later, you'd think being an illegal immigrant was the worst crime ever. But actually, early settlers of America were the first immigrants and basically claimed America for their own. There wasn't formal paperwork like there was to keep slaves or free them; there were no laws against them. And as they established their usurpation, they made their own laws according to land ownership and everything else. By the late 1800's, they sent for their families. It wasn't relatively easy to get on a boat and get here, because late 1800's immigrants faced racism themselves in America. But they eventually came over and made their place in every fiber of American History. Because of immigrants we have a melting pot of food, culture, jobs, education, art and everything else you can name of.

It seemed that if you were from Europe, America was a sure fire way to get ahead in life. But for Asians and existing African Americans this was not the case. There were rules in place during The Gold Rush of 1849. When The Chinese heard of these opportunities, they migrated to America but Americans weren't too happy about that. They put in place The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 to exclude The Chinese from taking advantage of The Gold Rush. The opening of Ellis Island in 1892 was truly the first Federal Immigration Station. While Europeans struggled to make their place in America, they eventually fit right in by designating parts all over America where their like kind was. Laws favoring European countries for immigration ended in 1965 and allowed Asians and Latin Americans to make their way to America for a "Better Life."

But it wasn't a very good life for Latin Americans. They were stereotyped, made fun of in pop culture, were designated as "Lovers" and "Salsa Dancers" and were ridiculed for their accents. It's always been hard for Latin Americans to climb corporate ladders because a Latino was not seen as a formidable opponent in the business field. To this day, you can count on your fingers the number of Latinos who have won Oscars and in 60 years of The Grammys, very few Latinos have performed LIVE. In fact, you can count on your fingers how many have.

Latinos have been discounted in American History even when we make history in America. There have been limited views of immigrants and their descendants so how do we expect America to understand an illegal immigrant at all? It doesn't surprise me one bit when Middle American White People on The Right shake their finger at illegal immigrants. Those are the very people that employed them in fields, in the back of kitchens and everywhere else. As soon as a dictator like Trump stepped in and said they'd get tax breaks, they sold them out on a dime. That's the American way sometimes.

America is an Immigrant Nation. A rich, colorful nation that have borrowed from our customs, creativity, culture and the list goes on and on. I have to remind you that not every white person feels the same way many do about illegal or legal immigrants. And millions agree that we should be a country of opening our arms and welcoming all. But at the same time, they do need to be more vocal about it, especially during this time. These are the times where being white and vocal really matters. But do not mistake the rest of America and every race and ethnicity...WE do not need a white face to lead us; but we do not mind the allies.

Here are some reasons America should get off their moral high horse: Most of our cities, states and counties are named in Spanish, you just don't know it because white people butcher pronunciation of foreign language! All joking aside, some white people from the reddest of states live in counties that are either Spanish, Native American or of some foreign language. Remember America is rich in diversity even way before immigration became common. But that's another American History lesson on how The French, The British, The Spanish made their marks in America.

America is an Immigrant Nation. The most famous restaurants and foods white people absolutely love and frequent are Mexican Restaurants. In fact, they think every Latino in the world are Mexicans and think we all make mole and tacos. If we're in 2018 and most Americans didn't know Puerto Rico was part of The United States, you can imagine how immigrants of any nationality today are hesitant to come here.

And when we hear "We need things made in America again" these are from people who had no problem sending off their products to be made in China because it is cheaper. In fact, America has relied on China for a long time in terms of trade relations and everything else. Even Trump who co-signed on this slogan has his products made anywhere but America. And while some American companies boast they now make everything in America, its simply a fad and they will return to investing with The Chinese and everyone else. So where does this leave immigrants today?

Well, Trump is looking into keeping Illegal immigrants and probably legal ones from getting government benefits and government housing. He's trying to build a wall (which is really a verbal threat more than anything), he's bad mouthing immigrants of all kinds and he's trying to discredit ethnicity in general. He's stripping away sanctuary cities and wants Europeans to infiltrate Puerto Rico to boost the economy and migrate to America to replace immigrants. In other words, MORE WHITE FACES IS BETTER.

It all comes down to Trump's presidential victory and the true colors of a weak minority called White People; who will certainly do anything to destroy any race that isn't their own. Once a land of the free, America has become the most racist modern country in the world. Other countries laugh at us, our president and the policies. Trump is destroying everything with the help from half the country. But this doesn't kill the resilience of The American People (and by American People I mean those who aren't traitors); We will persevere, we will grow, we will continue to allow immigrants and we will celebrate every national and cultural tradition of ALL including white people.

America is an Immigrant Nation. Say it loud, hold it in your heart and cling to it. I leave you with this: O beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountain majesties Above the fruited plain! America! America! God shed His grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood From sea to shining sea! O beautiful for pilgrim feet, Whose stern, impassioned stress A thoroughfare for freedom beat Across the wilderness! America! America! God mend thine every flaw, Confirm thy soul in self-control, Thy liberty in law! O beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife, Who more than self their country loved And mercy more than life! America! America! May God thy gold refine, Till all success be nobleness, And every gain divine! O beautiful for patriot dream That sees beyond the years Thine alabaster cities gleam Undimmed by human tears! America! America! God shed His grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood From sea to shining sea!

By: Xavii Matisse ©

#An Immigrant Nation #America #USA #Immigrants

[ravenclawgirrl]

5 years after the tassel turn, where am I?

It's graduation season!

Contrary to the usual scenario during this time of the year, commencement exercises now happen virtually and gone are the days where we line up to do the most awaited march. While it may seem different now, graduations will always be a reason to celebrate. 

It's been over 5 years since I earned my degree in communication. Looking back, it still feels like anew. I could still remember how as a fresh grad, everything feels exciting. I was so ecstatic to meet the world - to visit places, earn my own money and be a yuppie in my chosen industry.

Lucky are those who were already certain of where they intend to be the moment they stepped out of the graduation rites. Myself, not included.

I started my working career as a Customer Solutions Officer under the giant telco, Smart Communications Inc. Here, I became part of the most advanced digital hub of the company where I serve as a front liner catering to the needs of walk-in subscribers. My job here was to retain our customers and deliver great customer experience.  Yep, totally not my line. I was also puzzled how I ended up here. Perhaps, it’s the pressure, “how come everybody else is already hitching on their first job?” My bad.

Frankly, I already knew how it's going to be a temporary job from the very start. But it was certainly good while it did last. I was coerced to face and serve clients of different kinds during my time here. More than that, I was trained to be more patient and compassionate towards strangers. It also taught me to practice compartmentalization to be able to function well. My first job paid really well that it allowed me to travel often and afford luxurious gadgets and alike. As a matter of fact, I could confidently say now that should I have stayed here and never left, I might now be ready to sustain my own family.

Hence, after spending over a year with the very draining mall shifts, holiday work and endless customer service, I've decided to cut my time off and quit.

My next job kicked off around Q4 of 2017. Another high-paying job, no more mall shifts and holiday duties. In this company, I've experienced living the real makati-corporate-slave-life. Long UV queues, horrible traffic etc. But this time around, I did not last longer than three months. My reasons were simple - I don't see myself growing in this kind of environment. And so, I left.

At this point, you must say that I'm privilege enough to just leave with no back-up plans. I was and I won't lie. I still felt too young to be making serious career decisions back then. It was 2018 and I was just a young and clueless 21 year old.

I've started having problems finding my next job. I became sick of attending job interviews and my heart felt really lost on where should I go. Being unsure of where I wanna be, I opened the idea of doing something I've long wanted to do - join theatre.

I remember hearing a mass that one particular Saturday night when my thoughts suddenly wandered far. I've always been a fan of the industry but I know so little about how it works. So with all the courage from my anxious heart, I took a leap of hope. I stumbled upon a musical theatre workshop offered by Repertory Philippines where I found myself enrolling very soon.

I gambled the remaining backpay of my two previous job to this workshop. Luckily, I was in good hands. Little by little, I became more aware of the industry and the possibilities. I met a handful of people who helped me understand this world I’m trying to fit in. Soon enough, another workshop from Atlantis Theatrical transpired and I saw myself enlisting again out of the littlest money left in my pocket.

To sustain myself, I've tried applying for work-from-home jobs. I've accepted writing gigs and some freelance jobs that would make money. Although I don't earn as much as a regular job, at least, it felt productive. However, It is important to acknowledge the contribution of my parents when I've come to follow my heart's desire. Without their assistance, I could not frankly sustain any of these quite decently.

Theatre then, became my home. I was truly at my happiest. It awakened my burning passion to be on stage. At this point, around three years after the tassel turn, I finally found the place where I wanna be. It took me that long, but I'm still glad I did.

Hence, it isn't really as easy as it looks. Joining around this age, getting myself a space in the industry is a challenge. Possible, but a really difficult one. Attending a handful of auditions as a neophyte didn't really become effective too soon. I've realized how I must be more well-equipped if I really discern to stay. I need more lessons and training that would help me in enhancing my skills and increasing my knowledge. After some time, I found another theatre program that would help me in this goal. University of the Philippines Diliman offers a Master of Arts in Theatre Arts.  

After coursing through the module with high hopes, I've mustered the courage to work on the requirements and prayed to get in. My claim was simple - if this is for me, it will be. A month after my submission, I received my acceptance letter.

And so, I became a student once again. I literally went far for my dreams. Being a south girl all my life, QC is definitely a stranger to me. I found myself scouting dorm in Katipunan ready to live independently! At this point, most of my college batch mates are probably either receiving career promotions, purchasing their first huge investments or simply starting their own family. 

Meanwhile, I've only started climbing the ladder of my dreams. But one thing's for sure, I was totally happy. I never felt the need to compare myself to anyone. We all have different timelines and I totally trust mine.

I immerse myself to more plays. I observe more people who made it. I feed my soul with anything but theatre hoping to collect inspiration from these. I make sure to make use of all my available time for the goal. I remember often reminding myself before that my stay at UP should serve me well - that I should maximize all the lesson I could get from every class, interaction or even normal conversation. True enough, my stay was worth the while.

During my first year in UP, everyday became a learning experience as I got to be more involved with the community. I've also realized how I've wanted to take on different tracks and explore promising potentials. Some of the classes gave me a preview of my desire for the academe so I could go as far as teaching skillful scholars with little to no access to mainstream theatre. A totally different story perhaps. Since then, I doubled my hard work to gain more opportunities.

In the pursuit of my dreams, I've become more independent. I learned more life hacks, became more interested in kitchen works, taught myself how to do my own show make-up and further enhanced all the skills I've got to be able to make it work.

Summer of 2019, I landed on a stage management internship with Atlantis Theatrical. My first professional theatre exposure that further ignited my burning love for this craft. I never went home empty-handed but with a pocket full of worthy learnings rather. I got to work with some of my most looked-up PH Theatre icons and each day is a different kind of ride. 

Soon after finishing this internship, I was immediately offered to do a  paid gig as an Assistant Stage Manager and the rest is history. This marked the start of my freelance gigs that revolved around on-site events. I get paid to do on-site coordination, logistic works and all the kinds. Along with this, I still continued attending VTRs, showing up on auditions and joining free workshops when I can. This year also kicked start my experience of performing on kiddie parties in character costumes every weekend through PWJ.  On the side, I sometimes win small acting gigs for short films and student prods. I still earn a little compare to my two previous jobs but with all the experience I have in my hands at this point, I'm definitely happier.

To be in theatre meant facing multiple rejections normally. And having to undergo e so much in a short span, showing up on audition already takes a huge ball of courage. I was truly blessed to get myself a tight but really strong circle of support system that helps me all the time when things start to get rough. The process, the tiring process. 

So it's not surprising that by end of 2019, I felt the need to rethink. After a year of endless auditions, finally, I got my first callback! But it was a very untimely season to get rejected again afterwards. The turn of things paved the way for me to rest a little. 

The pay is not going any better and I'm running out of energy to give. The passion  and hard work that I've been devoting won't solely pay my bills. Perhaps, it wasn't something I cannot simply shrug away.  Because of this, my grad school performance also got affected. This pushed me to pause. I had a quick realignment and reality check. How long will I allow myself to stay in uncertainty?

It is a pretty painful decision. But come Q1 of 2020, I found myself taking a leave on my grad school and applying for a stable corporate job again. After a long while, I came searching my closet for blazers and skirts again when for years, I filled it with nothing but black production clothes and rehearsal attires. I saw myself attending another set of job interview inside meeting rooms after a ton of casting calls and audition venues. 

Although, I was pretty sure it's for the best. After all, I convinced myself that it's only going to be a meaningful rest. Soon enough, I'll be back on and offstage when I can freely fund my dreams.

SMDC was my first huge corporate experience. Here, as a Marketing and Events Supervisor, I was tasked to oversee CSR projects execution around SMDC properties. With a background in Stage Management, it didn't become too difficult. My Customer Service experience also helped my job of connecting to a number of residents more handy.

During my stay with the company, I was tapped to be the official voice of the SMDC hotline. Not quite sure if it pushed through after I left but all I remember is the feeling of satisfaction to be at-least doing a little talent sharing alongside my marketing job.

Being back in a stable job that pays well, I got to save more and finally invest again. Small achievements led to another until I got the hang of it. Unfortunately, things turned sour between me and my immediate head causing me to leave the good company unexpectedly. A totally different story again but for what it's worth, I'm really glad it happened.

The pandemic hit the country and getting a job is now more difficult than it has ever been. After 8 exhausting months of working for this corporation, I've decided to rest for quite some time. two months to be exact. Until, my current job found me.

I now work as an Events Specialist at a local PR agency. With various background and a pretty diverse experience, I initially thought  that I may know enough of what I'll be doing. But being in this job hastily proved me wrong - there is so much more to discover!

For some coward reasons, I never dreamed of working for an agency back in college. But the way of things brought me here pushing me to believe that I am destined to do this. My current job focuses on conceptualizing online and offline events for different brands, client servicing, sourcing suppliers and everything in between. Which is, safe to say, demands a portion of all I've learned from all the jobs I've done. Could be exhausting most times but a validation of my versatility to which I enjoyed most. 

In a span of 5 years, my career trajectory came really far. From Retail, Corporate, Marketing, Freelancing, Grad School, Production and now Agency - who would've thought? Yet, I ain't even really where I desire to be. I couldn't also grasp the fact of how far my combined spontaneity and dreams have led me sometimes.  5 years after the tassel turn, one could expect a really huge win. But I'm sorry to break it - there isn't anything grand to reveal. Hence, I'm quite satisfied knowing that I continue to be a progressive student of life.  Checking on where I am now, it feels fair.  I may not be exactly where I wish to be, but I am who I've decided to be. I've paid so much price to be the woman I am now, thus, my most important investment.

I definitely know nothing of what the future holds. But I'm certain that we are exactly where we are meant to be. So if any reader gets to this point of my story, i hope you get to embrace the job that puts food on your table. It might not be that job yet but sooner, it'll all make sense.

--

Please let me know if you've read this. Makes me so much happy that I get readers. Share me your story too and I'll gladly listen!  xx

#career #strugglingartist #ravenyyyywrites #careerstory