#i should get one of the part time jobs and get the certificate

[fingertipsmp3]

Why am I so proud of myself for doing something that is basically a failure on all levels

[libraford]

The company I work for went through an entire song and dance about how we're not allowed to used gendered nicknames for any of the kids we photograph because it might upset them. My boss laid out the instructions for how to handle a name change for the yearbook because "well now a kid might say their name is 'Jimmy' when it used to be-"

"James," I interrupted, sensing that she was going to be flippant about the next name.

"Jenny," she says, correcting me and giving me a stare as if I'm not taking this seriously enough.

But I am. See... cis people should be able to go through the process of altering their yearbook names as well. James goes by Jimmy now. Its no different from Jenny going by Jimmy. Name changes benefit people across the board, if they want one.

And when she said 'Jenny,' I could tell it was with this sense of obligation and that she didnt take it seriously. But I have had a lot of kids ask me to change their name in the files because that's what their friends call them. And they should be called what their friends call them. Because that's their name. It doesn't matter if their gender has changed. Its a matter of general agency that we should allow to people of any age.

I'm required to fill out a form for a background check. They want information which includes my driving record because there are days that I'm driving 200 miles to get to an action point.

It asks for my gender 'as stated on birth certificate.' Not as stated on driver's license, but on my birth certificate. It isn't any different between the two documents, but it seems so odd to decide that the birth certificate should matter more than the drivers license when the history in question is my driving history.

Last year, my boss told me that she 'didn't understand all this transgender stuff.' Out of the blue, I think maybe there was an ad on the TV in our hotel room on an away job. I told her that she didn't have to understand it, just accept that this is part of the world- the way that you might not understand Diwali or wooden shoes or chicken foot soup, but they are part of the world that she lives in.

She shook her head. This wasn't the right time to tell her and it was none of her business anyway.

But now we have all these rules about how to navigate one of those pesky transgenders if we encounter them and it feels so empty. It doesn't seem like safety. It seems like fear and it feels like a crowbar.

[springwitch26]

hots for teacher (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

part 2

summary: you've been infatuated with melissa schemmenti ever since you worked under her as a student teacher. what will happen when you meet again a few years later?

warnings: NSFW content, implied future smut (part 2 on the way??), praise kink, age gap idk

notes: hi everyone! my name is april, and this is my first ever fanfiction. i wrote this for fun and then decided to share it with the community, because i love the little gay women in my phone! i've been reading fics on tumblr for as long as i've been on the internet, so this is a strange experience for me. anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you guys think!

tonight you looked sexy, and you knew it. you wore a sinfully short black dress with colorful butterflies. it was one of your favorites; it showed just the right amount and hugged just the right places to be tantalizing. your eyes were painted with thin black wings and soft, glittery eyeshadow that made you look like a sweet dream. your lips glistened and your hair was tied up in two dutch braids. you were a vision.

all this meant that you were not the least bit surprised when a deep, sultry female voice sounded from behind where you sat at the bar.

"it should be illegal to look like that in public."

you smiled coyly and turned around to face the stranger.

"why? see something you like?" when you turned to face her, however, you were met with a familiar face. it was a face you'd seen in your dreams time after time: your former boss, melissa schemmenti.

you had been assigned to work with melissa as a student teacher while you were in school for your teaching certification. at the time, she was teaching two grades simultaneously, so she was grateful to have you there to ease the burden. it didn't hurt that you were always so eager to please. you wanted to learn and become the best teacher you could be.

of course, your motives weren't entirely pure. you were attracted to melissa from the moment you saw her. you remembered it like it was yesterday: her flaming red hair was slightly messy from trying to wrangle her double class, and her glasses sat askew on her nose. then you came along and turned everything around. she would give you to-do lists, and you would finish them before lunchtime the same day.

"great job, hon! you're so good, don't know what i'd do without you..." she'd say each time, beaming with pride at her new prodigee.

"o-of course, ms. schemmenti. what else can i do for you?" you'd respond, blushing profusely at the praise and struggling to hold her intense gaze.

within a week of having you, melissa was caught up on all her work. she couldn't help but feel like you were an angel, or some kind of gift from god. whatever you were, she cherished you. as the two of you spent more time together, she started to want you more and more. every project, every conversation, every smile you two shared only added to your chemistry.

she had fun with it--teasing you with special pet names and praise, watching you get all flustered and squirmy. she knew you liked her back. you weren't the most subtle about your desire.

melissa would never act on her feelings, though. you were a doe-eyed twenty-something with big dreams, and she was your much older boss. getting involved with you would be too messy. but she always held out hope, even after you left abbott, that one day you'd meet again.

you studied melissa's sly smirk for a moment, in disbelief at your luck. it had been two years since you left abbott. you had your own big girl job now, and you were a bit more mature. there was nothing stopping you from acting on your desires.

"oh my god, ms. schemmenti! please, have a drink with me. it's been a while." you hoped you didn't sound too desperate, although you definitely looked desperate once you got a good glance at her.

her look was striking. your breath hitched in your throat as you scanned her form, dressed in red leather pants and a button-down shirt. her arms were visibly muscled, even through the jacket. the black button-down shirt she wore was unbuttoned just enough to tease her cleavage. around her waist was a thick black belt that you wanted to pull on. her fiery hair was tied back haphazardly in a high ponytail, just messy enough to be sexy. and her hands—god, her fingers were long and ringed and—

"whatever you say, kid," she shrugged and sat down next to you, giving you a playful smile. "and you can call me melissa now."

she had a mischievous glint in her eye, probably knowing how you felt just by the wanton way you stared at her. when she sat down beside you, you felt your whole body heat up. your thighs were almost touching from the proximity, and you could smell her intoxicating perfume with each inhale. feeling her body so close to yours had you more drunk than the alcohol. it didn't help that her eyes now roamed over your body shamelessly, taking in your glistening lips and lingering on your soft cleavage. you tried your best to play it cool.

you talked for a while, catching up on everything. you told her about your new job at a suburban elementary school, your volunteer tutoring on the weekends, your summers in the mountains. she beamed with pride hearing of your accomplishments.

"that's great, y/n! sounds like you're goin' places."

"thank you! i think i owe a lot of my success to my student teaching experience—everyone at abbott was great, including you. especially you," you looked at her with an intense gaze, feeling your desire catch up with you.

"you were such a passionate mentor. you just had this way of getting me excited..." you trailed off as you fixated on the stirrings of a smirk on her face.

"...excited about learning," you finished shakily.

"mm-hmm," she chuckled.

maybe it was the alcohol, or the simple fact that she was right next to you and seemingly devouring you with her eyes, but you became bolder then. you only had one shot at this.

"i mean, you really touched me in a way that nobody else could," you leaned in, dragging out your syllables for emphasis. "i worked so hard because i just needed to be good for you."

now she was the one shuddering. you had the upper hand, if only for a moment. but she quickly got her boldness back.

"i noticed that. always so bright and attentive. i bragged to all the other teachers about what a good girl you were." to top it all off, she punctuated her sentence by placing her hand firmly on your knee.

you thought you were going to explode right then and there. your skin erupted in goosebumps at her touch, and you spread your legs ever so slightly to indicate your consent. her face split into a smug grin and she began to crawl her fingers up your thigh, agonizingly slowly.

your response came as a shaky whisper. you were sure you must have soaked through your panties just from her teasing touches.

"it's good to know that you thought so highly of me. i looked up to you a lot," you said sheepishly. "um, i'm a bit embarrassed to admit it, but i did have a bit of a crush on you..."

"oh, yeah. that doesn't surprise me. don't be embarrassed, hon. you can't help what you feel," her hand had stalled at the midpoint of your thigh, and she looked at you with sincerity.

"it doesn't surprise you?" you asked, struggling to get the words out once she resumed stroking your thigh.

"i had my suspicions," she said with a knowing smirk. "i'm sharper than i look, ya know."

her darkened eyes sent shivers down your spine. you felt your core heat up at the humiliation of knowing she knew exactly what you thought about her.

"am i that obvious?" you asked, somewhat breathily.

"oh, sweetheart," she laughed. she leaned in close and you could smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. her fingers pinched the skin of your thigh as she whispered to you. "you sat five feet away from me for months, always wearin' those little black skirts. you think i didn't see you rub your thighs together every time i gave you praise?"

her hand now caressed your inner thigh softly, teasingly. you failed to respond, trying to process her words but finding yourself unable to do anything but whimper almost silently.

"so soft here. mhmm," she husked into your ear. there was a hint of giddiness in her voice, as if she was pleased with herself for taking you apart so easily. "does that feel good, princess? do you like it when i touch you?"

"yes!" you said, almost too loudly for the public setting. "yes, i like it very much."

"good," she whispered as her fingers found the edge of your panties. your thighs spread even wider, and you let out a small gasp.

"we've got lots more to catch up on, don't we?" she continued, her fingers drawing feather-light circles over your clit through the fabric. you wondered if she could feel you throbbing for her. your hips bucked up to meet her hand, and she slapped your thigh in warning. "if you wanna keep talkin', we can head back to mine..."

you turned to her with big, glazed-over eyes. still whimpering, you nodded rapidly, earning a laugh from the older woman. she grabbed your hand and guided you out of the packed bar.

"i'm gonna wreck you, hon," she mumbled without looking back at you.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 9

Hello and welcome back to this wonderful fic! Like I've said before having a set schedule for each story got hard and I've resorted to posting on vibes alone.

This week's vibes are all over the place because of the pain in my elbow. It's getting better but it's taking every ounce of self-control and self-preservation I have not write as many words a day as I can to make up for lost time and slowly work my way back up to my old schedule so I don't re-injure it.

But as I've said, if you want to see a specific work more often, drop me an ask and I'll see what I can do.

Here we have Eddie being a sweetheart and Steve and his friends being dorks.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

****

NDAs were such a large part of Steve’s life he couldn’t remember a time he didn’t have them. For everything.

Even producers had to sign them before they could even breathe in the direction of The Fallen in the recording studio.

It was an exhausting but necessary part of his life. Just like the locked room in his apartment.

Shane and Spence had done an amazing job with Steve’s little notebook of song material. And shocker, only two of them were love songs. Most of the rest of the songs were about trying to survive in a world you had to hide.

He knew that a lot of critics would tell them to lose the masks if it bothered them so much, but at this point Steve didn’t care. They were working on their third album in three years and he was fucking tired.

“Again, from the top,” the producer said into the com. “Abbadon you got a little pitchy on the second line. Watch it. Astraeus, you’re coming in too early. It’s duh-ba-ba-dun and then you come in. You’re coming in on the first ba.”

Steve and Shane nodded and they began again.

Steve’s brain thought it was going to melt out of his ears. He had a test for his certification after today’s session in the studio and he was sure all the information would have leaked out by then.

But apparently Steve’s brain went on autopilot taking the test, and not only did he pass, he passed with full marks.

Spence clapped Steve shoulder. “Hey, man if this whole rockstar gig ever falls apart, you should come be an EMT with me.”

Steve grinned back. That wasn’t a bad idea actually. With his lifeguard training and his affinity for thinking well under pressure, it really was the ideal job.

“I might just take you up on that.”

They broke up for the day and as Steve was putting away his guitar his phone rang.

“Hey, Eds,” he greeted.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie replied. “How did your test go?”

“I aced it!” Steve said, bouncing on the tips of his toes in excitement.

“What?” Eddie cried. “Baby, that’s so amazing! We’ll definitely go out tonight and celebrate. But that’s not the reason I’m calling.”

“Oh?” Steve asked.

“How far are you guys into the album?” Eddie asked, hesitantly.

Steve frowned for a moment. He looked over at Spence and Hopper. They had all had a really rough session today and it had become almost grueling in a way that the other two albums never felt.

“Not as far as we’d like,” Steve admitted. If anyone knew what they were going through it was Eddie.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Eddie commiserated. “Would it be better to continue at it or take break touring?”

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. It would be nice to actually take time with the album and not push it out as quickly as possible.

“A break for sure,” Steve murmured. “We’re on our third album in three years, and even though we just got back from a tour, it was less exhausting than being in the studio right now.”

Eddie was silent for a moment. “Have you thought about changing the studio you’re working in? Sometimes a change of scenery can help.”

“I guess we could try,” Steve muttered. “I just didn’t think we had that kind of pull with the record label yet. I’ll call Robin later and see what she can do.”

Eddie hummed in agreement. “So the reason I was asking, babe, is that they have given us a choice of two sets of dates. One that would start at the beginning of the new year and one that would start next summer. And since we’re taking you with us, our management is going to coordinate with yours.”

“Oh.”

Steve wasn’t sure which he would prefer, if he was being honest. “Can I talk to my boys and get back to you on that?”

“Sure thing, Stevie,” Eddie said fondly. “You can tell all about what you guys decided when we meet up for drinks tonight, how does that sound?”

Steve let out a little sigh of relief. “Yeah, that sounds great, Eds. Text me the details.”

“You’ve got it!” Eddie said and then they both said their goodbyes and hang up.

More work, Steve thought mournfully. He didn’t want more work. He was tired and miserable and he should have been happy. The record was liking the album so far, they were about to go on tour with the biggest metal band in the world, he was dating Eddie. Why wasn’t he happy?

He put his head in his hands and forced himself to breathe. He knew that a lot of what he was feeling was being forced to wait when he didn’t want to.

That even if he was out as Abbadon, he couldn’t be out with Eddie. Both of their labels would have literal bitch fits. They could be out to their friends, but as far as the media went, that was off limits. Being bisexual or gay was better now, but it could still tank their careers if they came out with actual same sex partners. Steve’s career especially, new as it was.

Steve let out a low shuddering breath. This whole masked identities shit was tough. He didn’t know how those other bands could handle it. Maybe the difference was that their families knew. He honestly didn’t know.

But he had chosen to walk down this road. When they first started playing and getting turned away by how they looked, they chose to not change themselves, but to become someone else. And it worked and he really couldn’t argue with the results.

Steve loved his job. He loved that he got be in a band with his best friends and that his platonic soulmate was their manager. He loved getting out there on stage and singing his heart out. But it was hard sometimes.

He pulled out his phone and called Robin. “Hey, what are the label’s requirement on getting this album done? Like does it have to be at this studio with this producer?”

“One sec,” Robin said, pulling it up on her computer. She scanned the document complete with searching for key words. “Doesn’t look like it. Why? What’s up?”

“You know how we’ve hit a wall in the studio?” Steve asked around chewing on his thumb.

She scoffed. Of course she knew. “And you’re thinking a change of venue might help or at the very least a new producer?”

“Yeah...” Steve said. “Eddie suggested it, but I wasn’t sure if we had that kind of clout with the record label.”

Robin was quiet on the line, but Steve could feel the cogs in her head turn. “I’ll get on it.”

“Thanks,” he said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Did Eddie’s label send over the tour dates?”

“Let’s see...” she hummed. “Yup! I’m reading through them... and I’m guessing you to talk with everyone before making a final decision?”

“Right in one,” Steve said. “Preferably with whether or not we get someone else in to produce.”

“You’ve got it, babe,” she said. “Does this have a deadline?”

“Eddie said he would like to know by tonight,” he said, “but I can tell him we’re still working things out and that’s we’ll get back to him.”

“That would be ideal, yes.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “I’ll still talk to the boys and at least get a feel for what they’re thinking even if we can’t shift producers or studio.”

“Sounds good,” Robin said. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I learn anything.”

He hung up and pulled up the group chat and messaged his friends to meet at his place. He had stuff he wanted to talk with them regarding upcoming tour dates.

Simon and Shane texted back immediately. Spence had left them on read for about fifteen minutes before responding with a question about how long they would be.

And then the ribbing began.

-Oohh...you with that girl?- Shane

-He totally is!!- Simon

-Pics or it didn’t happen- Steve

-Pics!- Simon

-Yeah, man, is she cute?- Shane

-Why do you care, Shane? You’re gay- Spence

-Because like a flower I can appreciate the feminine form, even if I don’t want to fuck it- Shane

Pic comes in of Spence on his couch with a gorgeous dark-skinned woman with soulful eyes and long black hair.

-Meet Nadia

-Lucky guy!- Simon

-That’s quite the flower :P- Shane

-Yeahhh...I’m sorry, man, as much as I would like to let you stay with your lady love, we really need to talk. Business. :(

-I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. -Spence

-lol! You keep telling yourself that and maybe one day I’ll believe you- Shane

-GASP! Spence doesn’t love us! :’(- Simon

-Damn it. Fine I love you all- Spence

-Simon uses sad emoji against Spence, it’s super effective! (pokeball emoji)- Steve

-Meet at my place as soon as you can- Steve

There was the usual chorus of affirmative responses and Steve set down his phone.

He looked up at the ceiling as he huffed out a sigh. His friends were on the way, Robin was trying to fix the problem with them hitting a brick wall making their album, and Eddie was supportive.

It helped that Spence was dating now, too. They could commiserate about their love lives.

Simon hated that while he could get girls as Asmodeus but not as himself he swore off dating until he found someone who liked him for him and not just because he was a rock god.

Shane just liked having fun. Wherever that took him. Usually gay bars with lots of booze and dancing.

They weren’t “rich and famous” enough for the wild parties and shit. At least not yet. They were getting a lot traction with their second major album though so that was probably going to change fast.

Steve just glad that he would have Eddie and Robin holding his hand though this.

He looked over at the contract on his table and sighed. Like Spence, he really did love his job. And he knew that there were hundreds of bands wishing to be in his shoes.

He could do this.

He was, after all Abbadon, lead singer of The Fallen and he knew how to do this shit.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch

@bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian

@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners

@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade

@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have the fourth part of our rec list of bottom Louis fics where Louis and Harry are friends who become lovers. If you'd like to check out the previous rec lists, you can find part one here, part two here, and part three here. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word.

Happy reading!

1) Truth Or Drink | Explicit | 5,548 words

Harry isn’t nervous. Of course he isn’t. He has done much more intimidating things than this. He has had sex with at least 100 men, and a few women along the way, while being filmed and watched by another 20 pairs of eyes. But for some reason the thought of doing this sounds a hundred times worse. He can feel his insides churning and sweat is starting to form on his palms. Sure, sex is Harry’s job and it has been for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t mind having a crowd of people watching him anymore, and everything is always quite professional. At the beginning things might have been a bit challenging but now it’s almost second nature. This, though, is more distressing than anything he has ever done before.

2) Incalescent | Explicit | 5,649 words

The onset of heat is something Louis still hasn’t learned to recognize.

3) You Step Where Words Are Written, Delicate Under Your Feet | Mature | 6,495 words

Prompt 513: A fic where Louis gives Harry a footjob over his pants while they're watching TV and Harry finds out he has a thing for Louis' feet.

4) Kiss It Better | Mature | 8,080 words

Harry shakes his head with a light laugh and leans down to kiss him again which Louis happily accepts even if he is a little confused by the reaction. "Baby, not a night has gone by that I haven't thought about you in my bed, naked, and begging for my cock." Blinking up at him with wide eyes, Louis opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. While they did flirt a lot over the last few weeks, Harry had never said anything like that. It shocks him as much as it turns him on. "News to me." "I won't lie and say I like random hookups or casual sex, but to me this isn't what that is." Louis swallows thickly, unsure of what to say to that but once again Harry gives him an out. "So, If you want we can stay up here and I can show you all the things I've thought about doing to you." Another kiss, quick and sweet. "Or, we can go back downstairs and we'll dance all night."

5) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8,854 words

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind. Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic. “I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.” Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

6) I Would Wait Forever (And Ever) | Not Rated | 10,018 words

Louis is brave but has the worst timing in the world, Harry doesn't want to lose his best friend and they just don't communicate enough.

7) If I Saw You Every Day Forever | Mature | 10,685 words

There really should be a statute on the number of dates one can go to because how much longer does Louis have to suffer through this? A modern AU in which Louis might have accidentally signed up for something he probably shouldn't.

8) Wait Until You're Sure | Explicit | 13,042 words

Prompt 465: Louis and Harry are best friends who made a pact. If neither of them has found love by the time they’re 30, then they’ll get married. It was all laughter and fun until Harry realizes they’re celebrating his 30th birthday and in a few months, Louis is gonna be 30 too. So, he struggles to find someone for Louis to avoid being together, but Louis just keeps rejecting all men Harry introduces to him (because he has feeling for him, of course), which really upsets Harry. They argue about that and Louis says something like “wow, it’s that bad to be with me?,” accepting that Harry simply doesn’t feel the same. Louis moves for a couple of months with another friend and Harry has all this time to understand his feelings, realizing that he loves Louis too and wants to be with him. But when he goes to tell him, Louis is already seeing someone else. So what’s Harry gonna do to get Louis back?

9) Candle Wax & Polaroids On The Hardwood Floor | Explicit | 13,082 words

Prompt 463: Clumsy modern witch Louis AU where he accidentally gives his roommate Harry a love potion and he has a crisis because he thinks he will get in trouble with the law for technically poisoning someone and Harry’s heart eyes aren’t helping.

10) Blackberries And Cherries | Explicit | 13,894 words

Louis is a witch and Harry is his human friend. When Harry needs help focusing on his schoolwork, the obvious solution is to ask Louis for a potion. You could say things don’t go quite right.

11) Bend The Rules | Explicit | 16,823 words

Prompt 588: Lous hires a ‘ghost cooking’ service because his family is worried he’s not eating well and he wants to impress them by showing them what an amazing cook he’s become. The service includes sending a discreet cook to your house and have them get everything ready so that you only serve and take the credit. Problem is, his sisters (can be OCs if that’s more comfortable) get to his flat earlier than planned and the actual cook has to hide in the master bathroom for hours. Louis is mortified. The cook is amused and helps him to clean and well. Gives him a thorough service. Feel free to pick your fave as the cook.

12) Swap Me For Your Shadow | Explicit | 16,829 words

If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else. A 5+1 fic; 5 times Louis has to listen to Harry’s vague confessions of love for his ‘omega friend’ and the 1 time Louis snaps and confesses his love for Harry.

13) Sometimes A Fantasy | Explicit | 18,654 words

There’s nothing to complain about when Harry’s walking around their flat with his cock swinging about, nothing to complain about when Harry’s pressing himself up against Louis’ naked backside when he’s reaching for a mug in their cupboards, and nothing to complain about when Harry’s got his hand firm on Louis’ arse when they’re cuddling on the couch. So, in reality, it’s really fucking weird, and Louis knows that. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it.

14) Lonely Shadow Dancers | Explicit |20,838 words

“Mm,” Harry’s arms circle him, and their fumbling somehow turns into a cuddle session, “still can’t believe we’re here together.” Growing up with someone, one tends to become used to another. Used to the mannerisms and personality of them. Used to the changes and the things that stay the same. Harry hit puberty and sprung up into this cheeky curly flirt of an alpha and Louis still hasn’t found the time to get used to it. His stomach flutters and he bites back a stupid smile and wonders if he ever will.

15) The Mess We Created | Explicit | 21,099 words

An innocent one night stand changed into something more than that.

16) Not Safe For Work | Explicit | 23,295 words

I want to drown myself in Harry’s scent until I smell like him. “I think I'm open to trying that too. Sounds very good.” Louis shakes his head a little to get out of the Harry’s-scent-spiral. “Huh?” “The dish your finger's pointing at. I thought that might be what you’re choosing?” “Oh. Yeah.”

17) Sweet Like Honey | Explicit | 33,117 words

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath.  It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction. Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.  For a while, it’s enough.

18) Once Burnt, Twice Shy | Explicit | 52,644 words

Louis and Harry are polar opposites in every way. Where Louis is a bestselling author from the city, Harry is a small-town firefighter who's never left his home. Where Louis is spontaneous and spirited, Harry is introverted and calm, never straying from routine. When an ill-fated accident and an exceptionally intelligent tabby bring them together, they are forced to confront their pasts and forge a better beginning for themselves. Will sparks fly, or will it all go up in flames?

19) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55,778 words

Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.

20) If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) | Explicit | 55,916 words

Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”

21) It’s Golden, Like Daylight | Explicit | 61,496 words

"I actually think you might be onto something.” Harry’s eyes widened. “You mean…” Louis nodded. “As crazy and insane as this, this might just solve both of our problems.” “Are you saying you’re in?” Harry asked. “I’m in.”

22) Derail The Mind Of Me | Explicit | 77,323 words

Beside the photograph of a gaunt, pale face spattered with blood and lips torn into a Glasgow smile was a bloodied object, crumpled and stained almost to the point of unrecognition. Another photo showed the object shoved into the woman’s mouth. While Harry leaned forward to get a closer look, Louis scrunched up his nose and purposefully kept his gaze locked on his computer screen, refusing to so much as glance at the gruesome images the rest of the team examined. “What is that?” Zayn frowned. “Is that a tarot card?”

23) Ghost Note Symphony | Explicit | 96,426 words

Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago. It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to. That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.

24) Our Endless Numbered Days | Explicit | 120,815 words

“Harry?” whispered Louis, his mouth dry, his nose pressing against the other’s warm skin. “Mh?” Harry’s humming was gentle, his fingers lightly caressing the younger boy’s arm, his chest steadily rising and falling beneath Louis’ cheek. A couple of seconds passed, and Louis looked up at him in the darkness of the cave, barely able to make out the expression on his face. When he tried to inhale deeply, his breath hitched. He struggled to find the words to tell Harry what he was thinking about. Another couple of seconds passed, and Louis listened to the reassuring beating of the prince’s heart beneath his cheek. He couldn’t. “Nothing,” he whispered, his voice weak. I think you’re half of my soul.

25) Love Will Tear Us Apart | Mature | 204,151 words

It was only meant to be a one night thing, but when the country goes into lockdown, Louis Tomlinson finds himself stuck in windsor castle, in company of his royal fucking highness, Harry, the prince of England.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not having a job despite having time for it?

🍏🥝🍏🥝 <- to keep track of this when it posts,

My family really loves talking about me(20) when they think I'm not listening. I've heard them on multiple occasions say that I need a job and that I should just start working part-time while I'm going to college. The issue with that is that while other people can do both pretty decently, I dont feel like I'm capable of doing both part time and college without one of them suffering a lot because of the other.

My family is pretty financially stable, and the fees I owe never go over 900 dollars and sometimes I even make my own money off of commissions to help pay for things. I actually did have an actual job during my classes for a while filing things and remote video editing work (for the same job) but one of my family members worked with me there as my boss and I decided to quit after they decided to ask if my mom would've rather died than had me after I told him she called trans people abominations (I am trans, I'm only out to that family member and my brother). I haven't found a consistent thing to do to earn money since but I've been trying really hard to advertise my commissions since then.

The part where I feel really guilty though is the fact that I've been going to a community college for almost 3 years now (with my family supporting me money wise) and know I'm only going to come out with a one year certificate because of how fucked my schedule got in my first year. I didn't meet some prerequisites , and despite the course I wanted being a 2 year degree it was worth almost 80 credits, which felt insane as I went into it. 5 classes a term, some 5 minutes after the other, all based on pouring hours and hours into artsy projects (video, audio, 3d modelling, painting, 2d animation, ect...). I broke down within my third term after I started failing some of my classes. I was still trying for my 2 year degree up until 2023 where I decided that getting a certificate that was similar and getting a job after would probably be better for me at this point rather than spending ANOTHER 2 years struggling OR straight up giving up and dropping out with nothing.

I'm also home a lot when I'm not in class (I'm only taking 2-3 classes a term now). I do little things sometimes like take out the trash and pull dishes from out the washer and so on but it's all only when no one is home because the place where things generally need to be cleaned up is all in our very small kitchen AND the fact that I'm scared of them poking fun at me for "finally doing something for once" because it makes me feel terrible when they do. I end up chilling out in my room completing work and desperately finding work arounds for projects to only ever really need done in my room or on campus- generally anywhere that's not going to worry my grandma too much.

I've told my family that their teasing doesn't make me feel good but it just gets responded with "that's just how we show love!" when I know it doesn't have to be that way! My boyfriend teases me pretty often but the difference is that he actually listens to me when I tell him something he said didn't feel very good to me and we talk it through, and then he doesn't make that joke again or i feel better after knowing the context of it!!! A lot of my family members will bicker until another one ends up crying and it's horrible to watch how petty and bitter everyone can be.

Don't really know what else to write, AITA guys? I know I could be doing a lot more around the house instead of working but I'm scared of being touched (my aunt randomly spanked me as hard as she could one time last year) and scared of more mean comments being thrown my way. I already have a plan to leave this home and have been open about it to them, but I don't want to rush it if I don't have to and want to spend a few years saving money up so that I'm not in a horrible situation if things go awry.

What are these acronyms?

[pennyserenade]

IT’S NEVER OVER 

pairing: dieter bravo x you, dieter bravo x reader rating: mature (no explicit sex but language and content is 18+ regardless)  tags: fluff/comfort, some angst but just a little word count: 2.5k+ summary: dieter asks you to go to the opening night of his play and you do. for this he rewards you handsomely. a/n: this was the most fun i had writing in a very long time and i want to thank all of you who encouraged this in me. i love u & i hope you enjoy ex-husband dieter as much as i do <3

For most, divorce is definitive, final. It’s the last act that two people make as a couple, signing their names on a piece of paper that divides their lives the same way the marriage certificate connected them. If Dieter was any other man, it probably would’ve been that way for you, but Dieter is Dieter; he marches to the sound of his own drum. 

You aren’t obligated to him, but sometimes he asks you to do things and you say yes like you are. Your five year marriage bore no children — a willful decision on both your parts — and you never felt it was fair to do something like get a dog, because even on the best days you knew you would’ve only done it to cope with being lonely in a relationship you shouldn’t be lonely in. So there’s no reason at all that you should still keep in touch with Dieter, but you do. Five years of marriage and three years of dating before that bonded you to him. You’re used to him. Comfortable.  Maybe even achingly in love—but in a more platonic shade than before. 

On Sunday of last week, he had asked you to attend the opening of his play and you had said that you would. He told you he’d set two tickets aside for you, in case you wanted to bring someone, but you didn’t. You can see the relief in his eyes as you make your way to him. The throng of actors that occupy the backstage area make it hard to get to him, as they all seem to want him, but the moment he sees you, he parts the sea of them for you with his own self. He meets you somewhere in the middle. 

“You made it,” he says quietly, “I know you said you would but, you know….I don’t know.” He shrugs, smiling. 

You kiss his cheek. “You did great tonight, kid.”

“God, I’m glad you came.” Dieter brings your body in for a hug and you let him, taking in his scent and feeling a wave of comfortable nostalgia. His voice betrays his anxiety and you hold onto him a bit longer than you should because you know he gets. Even after his best performances, he was always plagued with self doubt and worry. That’s why you came tonight. 

‘We’re all so vain, actors. I can’t get over myself,’ he had told you once, on a night much like this one. And he was right, you came to find: Dieter really could not get over himself. But you don’t hate him for it anymore. He wears it anxiously tonight, that strain of vanity. It’s not like the bad times. You even feel the desire to hold his hand. 

He lets go of you when a woman to the right — the girl who played his girlfriend in the play — taps him on the shoulder. She is a beautiful young woman, about ten years his junior. “Who’s this?” she asks him, smiling. 

“My wife.” He responds. As soon as he says it, you get an idea of just what he’s been doing to prepare for this play of his. The woman tries not to let her face fall, but you know from experience that Dieter could make even Meryl Streep break character with his nonsense. You touch her arm and say, “I’m his ex-wife and you did a very good job tonight. I don’t make it to many plays anymore and it was a real pleasure to see this one.”

The woman relaxes visibly. “Thank you. I’m glad you liked the show. I was just coming to tell Dieter how lovely he did.”

Dieter stares at her like he doesn’t know what to do with her. This poor girl, you can sense how much she doesn’t understand him. He can’t get over himself, you want to tell her, just to assuage the fear you know too well. But then he smiles - a genuine smile - and he tells her he couldn’t have done it without her. 

And it makes you mad, and then sad, and then unsure if you know him either. You don’t meet with Dieter often because this happens at least once every time; you think you know every bit of him and then some part of him has changed, been made better, and you wonder bitterly “Why couldn’t you have done that for me?”

Tonight it passes quickly. He touches the small of your back and brings you closer to him than to the woman he’s very obviously fucking. She sees this. You see her see it and you watch as he doesn’t get it all over again. 

“I’ll see you later, then,” she manages, before disappearing back into the crowd of celebrating actors behind you. 

Dieter watches her go, brows creased. He hums. “Hm.”

You click your tongue. “You ought to be ashamed.”

His dark eyes shift towards you. “I’m positively mortified. Trust me.”

“Good. You’ll apologize to her?”

“I’m in the habit of it these days. Better than I used to be.”

“I’m glad. You can be—“

He cuts you off, “A bit of an ass. I know. I get real neurotic on opening nights. I hate them.”

“Are you going to the after party?” You straighten the tie of his costume instinctively. You don’t get embarrassed by the act once you realize what you’re doing.  Dieter doesn’t make you feel like you ought to be. 

“Thank you,” he says, “But no. I know you don’t like those things and I wanted to see you tonight. Please don’t get mad but—“

“Dieter.” You scold him preemptively. 

“—but I bought out the movie theater. That one we used to go to. I know you said doing things like that isn’t fair to you but you said that like, three years ago, and I promise I’m not trying to fuck you or anything. I mean, if you want, I’m not saying I wouldn’t but that’s not the purpose.” He pauses, then says, “Ignore that last part. I didn’t mean it that way. I wouldn’t have sex with you, but I wanted you to know that I still think you’re good looking and would if life had been different.” 

He looks at you expectantly and you feel the will in you fall away. “What if I had a date?” you ask, ignoring his ramble for his own sake. 

Dieter shrugs. “I guess I would’ve asked him if he—“ He watches your face “—or she? If they liked James Stewart.” Someone bumps into you, pushing closer, into Dieter. He grabs your shoulders to steady you. “Do they like James Stewart?” he asks. 

You shrug him off, shaking your head. “I like James Stewart.”

“I know you do. Mr. Smith Goes To Washington.”

“That makes me cry.”

“I know it does. But that one’s your favorite.”

“But you like Rope better.” 

“I like you and I wanted to do something for you.” When he says that, he looks ahead of you, at the people crowding around you. He’s avoiding eye contact, knows he shouldn’t have said it but he couldn’t help himself. You’re not angry with him. You pat his hand affectionately so he knows it. 

“Thank you. Sometimes it’s nice to know I’m liked and remembered.” 

He looks at you incredulously. “You’re kidding me.”

“Absolutely. I know you’re too fond of me and always will be. It gets me by.”

This makes him laugh. The sound of it makes you grin. “Let’s go.” Dieter tugs on your arm, nodding his head to the direction of his dressing room. “I’ll get undressed and we can head to the theater.”

You shake your head. “I’ll meet you by my car when you’re done.”

His eyebrow furrows, then he realizes. His face falls, and you know you’ve hurt him with the implication. 

“I have no interest in hurting some girl tonight, Dieter. She’s bound to be watching and I’d rather save her a little bit of heartache than turn my back to the wall while you get undressed.”

He frowns, but nods his head. “You’re too good for me, you know? I wouldn’t make you turn your head, though. You've seen it before and I’d like to think it looks mostly the same.”

“I know I’m too good for you.”

He clicks his tongue this time. “Give her an inch and she takes a mile,” he says as he disappear through the crowd. You hear the joke in voice even if you can’t see his face. 

You watch the back of him for a moment.

As you make your way to the car, you smile more genuinely than you have in a few days. Despite yourself, you love him immensely and you know he loves you too. It feels nice, even if you make a joke of it. He’s family to you. Not a husband, but a friend. 

He was always such a good friend. 

———

“Oh, kid.” 

James Stewart’s young face, wasted away with exhaustion, and his voice hoarse from desperation, never fails to make you cry. He stands in front of his piles of fan mail and is so damned earnest in the face of evil, it makes you ache. Dieter used to think that this movie was too sentimental, but you wore him down over the years. He sniffles now too when it gets to this scene, but nothing like the pitiful sobs you let out. 

He hands you a napkin and you wipe your eyes. You watch intently as Jimmy collapses onto the floor from pure exhaustion. You let out another sob the same time as Jean Arthur calls out to Jimmy. You hear Dieter’s soft laughter and you know you’re ridiculous, but you can’t help yourself. He knows this is how you get when you watch this. 

“God, this movie.” You shake your head and wipe your nose. 

You watch the rest of the movie in silence — or at least, without acknowledging your cries. When the movie ends and the soft hue of lights crowns over the empty theater, you turn to Dieter and sigh. He’s a little red in the eyes too, you note, but he looks at you in pure delight. There’s a fondness to it, though, so you let him live. 

“I can’t believe you used to think that was too sentimental.” You shake your head, huffing, getting angry at this younger Dieter. “That was so—that was acting!”

He holds his hands up in defense. “I know! I don’t think that now, you know? I think it’s good.”

You scoff, still infuriated with the Dieter that had told you this was the worst of Jimmy’s works. “You said it was American propaganda!”

He laughs. “I was trying to sound clever. I was too serious of an actor at the time. I’m sorry for having committed that crime many, many moons ago.”

You shake your head, letting the last of your tears fall. “I’m heartbroken.”

Dieter laughs. “But it worked out in the end. I can’t understand why this movie breaks your heart.”

“Because he had to fight so hard.”

Dieter softens. “That’s right,” he tells you, handing another napkin over, “I forgot about that—about why it breaks your heart.”

“It’s silly but I can’t help it.”

“It’s not silly. I married you for things like that. I loved those things. I love them now. I couldn’t remember why I liked watching this with you so much until now, but that’s exactly it. Because he fights so hard it makes you cry.” He squeezes your hand and the casualness of those words hit you straight in the gut. You’re glad to already have cried violently because if you haven’t, you’re certain that would’ve made you. 

“I’m gonna die, I’m so sad.”

“Do you want to get high? Will that help?” 

You shrug, blowing your nose. “I haven’t in a long time.”

“I brought a pen.” 

You debate it for a moment. “I shouldn’t.”

“Alright, but we’ve got this theater all night.”

“All night? I thought you just got it for this movie.”

He nods. “I did, but they don’t let you buy the whole movie theater out for just one showing. Not for me anyways, but I don’t care because I used to sneak into movies when I was younger here and this feels like a kind of karma.” That makes you laugh and he claps his hand. “The cloud is lifting. You’ll make it out alive after all.”

You lean back in the chair, wiping away the rest of your tears and most of your makeup. You sigh. “I care just like he does, don’t I?” You look at Dieter. 

“It’s so human of you, don’t change it. Please.” He takes your hand in his. “I always wanted to tell you that, that you care just like that, but I knew you’d take it wrong when we were married. We used to fight all the time for really stupid reasons. But it’s different now.”

“We’re friends.” You look down at your linked hands. 

“In a fashion, sure, but I like to think we’re more too.” You quirk your eyebrow. “Not like that—like lovers or whatever, but I don’t know. I know you get it too. You can probably explain it better than me.”

“Oh.” You smile and crinkle your nose. “We’re friends,” you repeat. This time he nods his head. “Yeah.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence. You sit with that knowledge. 

“Thank you,” he says suddenly. 

“For what?”

“For keeping me in your life. That was honorable of you. I don’t deserve it after the way I treated you during our marriage.”

You wave his words away. “Marriage brought out the very worst of us. This is the best of us. What we did to each other then, I don’t think it’s a reflection of who we are.”

“Yeah but I did the most damage. I know that. I left you alone a lot.”

The pad of your thumb rubs the back of his hand and you watch it as it does, as if you’re not in control of it. “Maybe you did. But it’s finished. We stopped that battle a long time ago and we’re in the clear now. You’re nicer, kinder.”

“I should’ve been all that then. I really loved you.”

“You really love me now. That’s enough for me.”

Dieter reflects. Then he says, “In another life, I’ll find you again and I’ll do it right.”

Giving him back his hand, you shake your head. “I think we’re doing just fine in this one. I think this is where we were meant to be. This is the kind of love that we do the best with.”

“You don’t miss it, the way we used to be?”

“God, all the time, but it was never like this.” 

“I guess you’re right. We do get along better. I don’t feel like I disappoint you anymore.”

“You don’t. Tonight is the most fun I’ve had in weeks, and I even cried my eyes out.”

He smiles softly. 

“You want to know something?” you ask him. He nods his head. “Nothing in the world makes me feel better than knowing you want me when I’ve got nothing to give you but my friendship. Men don’t want women like that.”

“I’ll always want to be your friend.”

“Then you will be,” you respond, “In the next life too. I promise.”

[darthpastry]

Welcome to part two of my official Henry-hate crusade. Time to cover the true ending of Pizzeria Sim! For this one, I want to take one of the fandoms favorite moments, the connection terminated speech, and shred it to piece while explaining why Henry isn't really a hero in this instance. So! Let's go over certain lines. Maybe compliment some of my favorite ones so this isn't just hating and recognizing he isn't the absolute worst.

"And to you, my brave volunteer."

Idk about you, but it doesn't exactly seem to me like Michael knew what he was volunteering for.

"Who somehow found this job listing not intended for you."

If it was anyone else, they probably would've died. The only other person by this point who was known to be able to survive the animatronics was Jeremy and I doubt that even if he was still around, he would be able to fend them off due to brain injury. Also, not so much a complaint, but did Henry have someone else in mind or just threw the job listing into the void?

"Although, there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling that you are right where you want to be."

Why not ask. Or at least tell him what the way out is instead of just assuming he hasn't found anything to live for and effectively murdering him?

"I am remaining as well. I am nearby."

Yep. Just make sure everyone who knows what's going on dies even though it's not like William hasn't escaped a fire before. Very responsible of you.

"This place will not be remembered. And the memory of everything that started this. Can finally begin to fade away. As the agony of every tragedy should."

I'm a firm believer in when history is forgotten it repeats itself, so quite frankly wanting people to forget seems a bit stupid. I agree that they shouldn't be trapped in the agony of it, but "this place will not be remembered" seems wrong.

"Although, for one of you. The darkest pit of Hell has opened to swallow you whole. So, don't keep the Devil waiting, old friend."

I can complain about Henry all day, but William is objectively far worse, and this line is absolute fire. Pun intended.

"My daughter, if you can hear me. I knew you would return as well."

Might be due to that animatronic you made to capture her and deliver constant controlled shocks and also somehow ended up in a magazine? Idk though. Just a theory.

"I'm sorry that on that day. The day you were shut out and left to die. No one was there to lift you up in their arms. The way you lifted others into yours."

But why. I get that being a parent can be hard and you can't have an eye on your kid 24/7, but he should've at least made there was a responsible adult present.

"Not my daughter. I couldn't save you then, so let me save you now."

Yippee. Negligent dad who can only making up for leaving his child without a responsible adult which led to her early death by using Lefty so that she can finally move on. Yayyyy /extreme sarcasm ofc

“Congratulations on completing your work week. We apologize if your situation wasn't presented to you In a completely honest fashion when you first started, but it was important that your intentions and actions be genuine.”

I cannot emphasize enough that Michael was not told what was going to happen and given the last sentence it seems like he didn't even feel the need to be suspicious of what was going on.

“Please accept this Certificate of Completion. Goodbye for now, and thank you for taking this journey with us.”

More of theorizing but it's kind of weird that this whole monologue was recorded and delivered if Michael is supposed to be actually dead. I know it's for the player, but I feel like they could easily spin this and bring Michael back.

Tune in next time where I cover the other endings, possibly rant about how everything in FNaF is awful for everyone, and miscellaneous if there's any!

@uvanuva

[caxycreations]

I hate to do this but

I need help. I need

so much fucking help.

There are a few major things I need.

TL;DR at the bottom, but I'd appreciate you read this to fully understand the situation I'm in.

I need to reacclimate to driving vehicles, so I can get from place to place on my own, but to do that I need help from someone willing to ride with me and help me feel calm in adjusting to being behind the wheel again.

I need to find work, consistent work, that pays at a regular rate, which isn't overwhelmingly fast-paced. Night shift, anywhere, or work from home, or even day shift at a place that isn't rapid-fire energetic work.

I need to save up, be able to put money back so I have enough for emergencies like car wrecks or hospital trips or some such, and so I have enough to save a nest egg to live off of eventually.

As it stands, my only two options for who can help me with driving outright refuse to do so. They won't give me the opportunity to get behind the wheel, and when asked why, it's because they just don't want to take the time for it. These are the same people who simply "didn't want to take the time" to help me reach a dentist before my health insurance ran out. The same people who demand I help them at every turn and lecture me on selfishness when I tell them I don't feel well enough to do it.

I can't find work. The only work from home jobs here call for certifications, licenses, neither of which i have, or they call for several hours of uninterrupted focus, which I can't get here because if anything as drastic as the dog sneezing happens, I'm the one ordered to deal with it. I don't have one uninterrupted hour, let alone enough for a full shift of work. As for out-of-home work, the only places within safe walking distance are the post office (which I failed the assessment for and can't retake for a year) or the cotton gin (which isn't hiring for any positions I qualify for). So with no options in town, I have to drive (see problem 1) to find work. Which I can't do. So I can't find work outside of my streaming and avatar comms, the former of which earns roughly $20-$25 a month, and doesn't pay until earnings hit $50...Basically, I'm earning $60-$70 every 2 months. I can't live off that.

And that leads to the saving issue. I make a max of $70 every 2 months, and a friend sends me $50 every 2 weeks to help me, which totals to $100 one month and $170 every other month if I earn the absolute maximum from my streams. The $100 of the first month goes to groceries, every time. It has to. The second $100 goes to groceries of that month, $50 goes to my phone bill because I have to have service for family emergencies, and the last $20 winds up going either to more groceries or to what miniscule enrichments I can get for myself to keep from going insane here. Which means I wind up with a profit of anywhere from $0-$20 every 2 months, depending on whether that 20 actually gets spent or not. And of course, if it isn't one month, it's spent the next for groceries. I have next to no profit, no savings.

Living here is poisoning me. I live in a sunroom. Not a bedroom, not "part of the house", not an apartment or studio. A sunroom. A singular room that contains every single thing I own, a mattress on the floor, and for the record, as a sunroom, it leads directly outside. Want to see my door?

That is the door between my room and the outside world. That, and a single glass door secured by a very small, very rusted door latch on one side, is my only protection from the elements and any potential intruders. The door, as you can see, isn't even fitted to the frame. It's held in place by gravity and a single nail.

And yes, that is the breaker box behind it, entirely uncovered and with exposed wiring. Should I make it worse?

That door, held up only by gravity and a single nail, were it to fall, would fall directly onto my bed. Why is my pillow at the closest end? Well because I can't sleep with my head at the other end because my totes with all of my stuff are at the other end, and the mice like running on top of those totes and I would rather not sleep head-closest to the end they play at. That big TV? Busted, belongs to my mom's husband, and they have nowhere else to put it. That monitor beside it? Busted, because my brother broke it trying to stand on his computer chair and rather than throw it out, they had him put it in here with "the other screen".

The clutter on my bed? A hot glue gun kit a friend bought me which has literally nowhere else to be.

TL;DR and conclusions

I can't take the steps to better myself alone. I need as much help as I can get. And given my major problems right now revolve around a lack of jobs/opportunities, inability to drive alone + nobody willing to ride with me, and inability to save up because of expenses, I can really only look at the things I can reach out for help on.

I've reached out to some friends to help me look for options regarding new living arrangements, but those arrangements mean nothing if I can't afford to go, or worse, can't afford to stay.

I've got to save up. I've got to have enough to put back. So that leads me to the ending note here.

If you can spare even one dollar, ANY amount of money, at all, it would help immensely. If you can't, then please reblog, spread the word and help me reach more people so I might finally get out of this place. Every cent given this way is going straight into a savings account, not to be spent until absolutely needed, or until an opportunity to get out of here surfaces.

You can help me through paypal or cashapp, either one. Cashtag is $Aazoth, Paypal fundraiser linked below. Don't stress over the amount, I only set it to the maximum because I need as much as I can get and I wasn't sure what to expect so...better safe than sorry, given idk how the fundraisers on there work. I'd have set it to end later but I can't. I'll update y'all with a new one when this one ends.

@sparrowcraft @moremysteriesthantragedies @thetruearchmagos @a-scaly-troublemaker @that-one-enby-onyx @snakelovingnerd @eldritchx @leisoree @amerylise @profoundlyhauntedclaws @thefinalgoat @leisurelywingedlemon

[incognita-soul]

hey, i saw in your bio that you work on tall ships and i was wondering if u had any advice.

i’ve been on 2 tall ship sailing trips before (+some dinghy sailing) and got my competent crew recently so i’m pretty inexperienced. on those sailing trips i’ve met young adults who were working on the boats as volunteers. i’d like to be able to volunteer on tall ships one day.

do you have any advice for the best way to gain experience and learn stuff? (if possible on a budget). i’m taking a gap year next year and i’d really like to take the chance to go sailing and get better at it. (i’m in the uk if that’s relevant.)

absolutely no pressure to answer and i’m sorry this is so vague and clueless! anyway, thanks for taking the time to read this. your blog is cool :))

Heya! Thank you, and I'd be happy to give you my two cents! All of my boat experience has been in the US so take my advice with a transatlantic grain of salt, but here goes!

Firstly, two trips and some dinghy sailing and a competent crew cert is actually quite a bit in comparison to your average person starting out in the world of boats, so don't worry about feeling too inexperienced! You're already on a good track. I've been working on tall ships in some capacity for over 10 years and I still don't have any specific certifications (I've got a lot of experience and sea time, I just haven't had time to take any of my courses and exams for actual licensing).

Facebook is (unfortunately) still the best place to network, especially for international opportunities. There are a variety of groups that you can join. I'm personally in Schooner Bums, Tall Ship Opportunities, Women Who Sail, Crew Finder, and a few other private groups specific to the organizations I've worked for. A lot of organizations will post to these groups with job opportunities with specific requirements, so it's fairly easy to get the info you need. I'm sure there are a few groups specific to sailing in the UK. In the US, we have Tall Ships America, which is an organization that provides networking, training, and job opportunities for mostly US based sailors and boats. I'm not sure if the UK has an equivalent organization, but I do recommend even though you are UK based you should peruse their website, especially the Billet Bank, which is where job links are posted:

You're in the UK, so there are a shit ton of boats there but as far as I know most of them are museum boats that don't do a lot of sailing. I will say from personal experience that museum boats with a good volunteer maintenance program are great places to start for establishing a strong set of foundational skills (knots, understanding and maintenance of the rig, carpentry, etc.). You might not get much actual sea time with a museum boat, but you will learn the things that will make you a better sailor. I got into tall ships by working as a historical interpreter and then as part of the sailing/maintenance crew here:

https://www.jyfmuseums.org/visit/jamestown-settlement/living-history/ships#ad-image-0

Most tall ship organizations are based around education, both for the public and for the crew, so it's easy to find a boat with some sort of introductory training program relatively near wherever you live. These range from expensive pay-to-play working vacation type experiences, to paying a fee to participate in a structured comprehensive training curriculum after which you can become long-term crew, to volunteering weekends sanding and oiling blocks in exchange for the opportunity to sail.

Since you said you are taking a gap year, my advice is look for a short-term comprehensive live-aboard program that gets your foot in the door for staying on as regular crew, potentially even paid crew. Idk any specific ones in the UK, but here's the one that the last boat I worked on offers as an example of what i mean:

If you've got time before your gap year starts, try to find something local, like volunteering for a mueseum like I mentioned earlier, so that you get used to the vocabulary and foundational knowledge of boats. That way you can really get the most out of a more immersive program later on and you won't feel too much like an oversaturated sponge trying desperately to sop up more information even though your brain is leaking out of your ears.

I'm not sure if you're wanting to do tall ships longer term or just something one-off for the gap year, but if you're in it for the long haul just be prepared that it's a lot of hard work for not much financial return. I don't mean to discourage you, it's just good to know that upfront. On Lady Washington we have a saying that "we work on an 18th century boat for 18th century wages."

Unfortunately the tall ship industry is kind of hard budget wise. Most training programs cost quite a bit of money, most jobs are either volunteer or don't pay very well (industry standard deckhand pay in the US is about $1000/month), and most higher level positions require various levels of certifications (for which course and exam fees can run pretty high). You can do it on a budget, especially since most long term positions are live aboard so you don't have to pay for rent or groceries, but if you want to make a career out or it, it takes a lot of years of working for less money than you're worth before you start earning real money back.

Despite all that, working on tall ships is still an incredible and fulfilling experience that I recommend to anyone with a love of the sea and learning practical skills!

Sorry I couldn't give you more specific information, as I have yet to work on any UK boats. Good luck, and please tell me when you find a program that works for you!

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part eleven - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW; this is just really gross fluff. Like I didn’t even think I was capable of this mushy stuff but this chapter was HONESTLY my favorite that I’ve written so far. Enjoy some soft John Wick ❤️ And thank you for reading.

Work is literal hell. Not just for her, but the patient’s, too.

To replicate the infirmary, the prison has attempted to create a pop up hospital on the main level.

Literal curtains attached to metal poles separate the sick inmates from the main, drafty entrance. Blankets upon blankets is not enough to keep these people warm. The upper and lower levels have been partially closed off, and to get anywhere you have to navigate yellow tape and maintenance and construction workers and use the stairs instead of the busted elevator. That would be okay if everything she needed for her patient’s was right at hand instead of four floors down locked in a dark storage room.

She’s thankful to have her job back, but after a night arguing with managers about the safety of the inmates, and running up and down stairs with supplies including oxygen tanks and water jugs, she’s exhausted, scared for these grown men’s lives, angry, and wondering whether or not she should call whoever owns the place and tell them it needs shut down and the prisoners need relocated.

Even the guards seem scrambled, fried, like they don’t know what to do in the midst of all the damage and chaos.

She’s been looking for Mike all night, and finally she sees him as he’s walking down the hall and picking up pieces of fallen plaster.

She’s so glad that he’s alive she almost hugs him.

“Hey darling,” he smiles, letting the broom and dustpan dangle at his side. He’s pale and sweaty and his overalls look loose, like he’s lost a lot of weight.

“Are you alright?” She asks.

He shakes his head. “Just getting over whatever the hell decided to mess my lungs up. Are you alright? I was asking around, trying to see if you were here that night and if you were okay, but no one could tell me a damn thing.”

“I was here,” she nods, “but I got out fine.”

“I knew there was a reason I was praying for God to send his best guardian angel to you,” Mike tells her, wiping sweat off his forehead. “You’re blessed. A lot of people died that night.” He looks away, down the hall behind her, sadness crinkling his sunken face.

She cringes, looks at the floor, remembering. No angels have ever been in this prison, and no God exists in this fucked up world.

Instead of saying any of that, she thanks him for the prayers and asks if there’s anything she can do to help him feel better.

“Just keep yourself grounded, kid. I was in Vietnam for a long time, and I know what seeing this kind of thing does to a younger person.” He motions at the blood stains on the concrete walls. “It either makes you hard, or makes you crazy.”

They both try sad smiles for the other’s benefit before parting ways.

She looks for Benny all night, too, almost hopeful that John bluffed. But the big man is not here, and no one says anything to indicate whether he’s alive or dead, so she assumes that she signed his death certificate herself.

When she makes it home, aching and yearning for a shower and a soft pillow, John is outside her apartment.

In any other circumstance, he would see her immediately, but right now he’s helping two elderly women that live on her level load something big into their trunk.

She watches the scene unfold, sees the way they thank him and hug him and kiss his cheek like he’s just saved children in an orphanage collapse, and realizes something about John Wick: Mike’s prayers for God to send her an angel were granted. Here he is, catching her eyes and smiling, her deadly guardian angel. She couldn’t see it before while her vision was clouded by spilled blood and instinctual fear, but he’s saved her life twice, subdued everyone he’s met into loving him, threw their trash away at the bar instead of just leaving it on the table for the waitress, and, if given the opportunity, she knows, without a doubt, he’d save a kitten from a tree and carry people out of a burning building and then go back in for more.

The cold, white sunlight illuminates his tawny eyes into a pit that she’s falling into and never climbing back out of and she can’t believe him hoisting something into a helpless senior citizen’s trunk was the final push.

She reaches where he stands leaning against his car, and he kisses her cheekbone in greeting, the fever of his skin instantly warming her freezing flesh. “Let me take you for breakfast?”

This sickly sweet exchange has her all messed up inside. She feels like her heart is a sleeping dragon hoarding her emotions in a pile and someone is tickling its nose with a feather and waking the beast up.

“I’m dirty,” she tells him, as if somehow that’s going to change his plans.

He cocks his head. “I can wait while you take a shower?”

Going to breakfast with a beautiful angel sounds lovely, but she doesn’t want him to smell her sweat and run the other way. “Sorry, I’m just gross right now.”

“I love dirt,” he teases. “Just come. They run out of the blueberry pancakes fast.”

She sighs, “fine, but if you smell me it’s not my fault.”

He eases her worries by pulling her into his nostrils and inhaling the skin of her neck.

She squeals with laughter, pushing to get his stubble off her ticklish skin as he nuzzles and sniffs.

“Hm.” He pulls away, thinking. “Smells wonderful so far. Maybe I should try again-“

“No!” She flails in his grip. “No john. don’t. Stop!”

He’s in the crook of her neck again, terrorizing poor nerves.

She hits on his chest, presses her neck down over his face to buck him off, giggles obscenely for everyone in the street to hear.

Her laughter is infectious, and she is beautiful.

“Apple shampoo?” He guesses, grinning down at her after ceasing cruel ministrations.

“Apple conditioner,” she corrects, glowering.

He leads her, by the waist, to his passenger door.

While he holds the door open for her, she rolls her eyes and curtsies. “Thank you, Mr. Wick.”

He growls, playful, reaching for her as she falls into his cab.

She’s giggling and then screeching, shocked as he chases her in and folds her against the driver’s door.

It’s cold in here, but the heater that he calls a body can’t be fully enjoyed without some chill involved anyway.

And she can’t find the audacity to be cold when he’s tickle attacking her.

Facial hair in the crease of her neck and fingers on her belly and ribs is a deadly combination when he combines it with his huge, agile, speedy hands.

“Oh-o-k-Kay I’m sss-sorr-y!”

He digs into her armpits and she screams, bucking her body so hard that she actually lifts him up a little bit. He’s impressed.

“Please.” “No.” “Fuck.” “Shit.” All broken, yelping words from her feral mouth until he stops without warning.

He kisses her gasping lips, and grins. Zero percent disheveled or tired from fighting her while she pants and squirms. “Such language.”

“What about blueberry pancakes?” She flexes away from his lethal fingers.

“You gonna stop being a heathen?” He asks, hoping the answer is no.

“I’ll try,” she promises, grimacing while she waits for impact.

He slides off of her, and they climb over one another - mostly just John moving both of them to their respectful places since she’s so wobbly - to trade places in the seat.

“Pancakes saved your ass,” he tells her, starting the car.

“Good ol’ pancakes,” she grins, “always there in my time of need.”

The restaraunt is a tiny diner on the corner of 3rd and Cross. It’s retro, metal and faded gold red upholstery, with flowers in glass vases adorning each booth.

She wastes no time in smelling the poinsettias when they take seats across from one another.

“Wow,” she says, “these are beautiful.”

“They’ve always had fresh flowers since I was young,” John explains, leaning close and taking a whiff. “You’ve never been?”

“I just moved here a little bit ago. City of opportunity. I think I’ve been to four restaurants and they’re all pizza places.”

“When did you move?” He asks.

She tells him, then adds: “When did you move from Russia?”

“I can’t exactly remember,” he says, “young, though.”

“What was your favorite place to go?”

“Internationally?” John clarifies.

She nods, toying with the edge of her napkin.

“New York. It’s my home.”

She’s jealous of that word. Such a foreign thing for her to think about, a home. But she’s happy that he has some place he loves.

It’s strange and sad, to meet someone more lost than he’s ever been. Even when he was young, he can’t remember a time when he didn’t have a place to sleep even if it was a cold wooden floor on a burlap sack, and he still has family here.

He grabs her hand, startling her with warm touch on her freezing fingers.

Neither one is used to it, even though they crave the foreign feeling of intimacy.

He rubs her palm with his thick thumb, pressure heavy and soothing.

White snow turns blue, pink, and orange sherbet as clouds curtain back to reveal a painted, fluffed candy sky.

They stare at each other, oblivious to the rainbow of color framing their embrace in front of the big window.

John hasn’t been scared in a long time, but he’s horrified by what his chest is doing while he looks at her face.

Vulnerability hangs in the flower scented air between them, and each one is afraid to cross its’ path.

Like a near extinct species meeting another one of its kind for the first time in a jungle filled with chaos, and, yet, still extraordinarily lonely.

The waitress sets menus on their table, pulling them from uncharted sea back into familiar rocking ocean.

“John,” Cindy greets, leaning down to embrace him.

“Cindy,” he replies, smiling, patting her shoulder and squeezing her back.

The older, plump woman chokes laughter and pulls out from his arm, dusting off imaginary lint from his jacket. She cracks her back and neck and rubs her shoulder. “See you haven’t lost your heavy hands?” She asks playfully. “Gotta be careful with us older people, though. We’re breakable.”

The faintest tint of pink colors his cheeks as he chuckles apologetically. “Sorry.”

“And who’s this?” Cindy asks, grinning down at her.

John introduces them, and Cindy pulls her into a warm hug. “Hi honey.”

Cindy turns her delighted smile on John. “Delo?”

“Udovol'stviye.”

Cindy claps her hands together, laughing in joy. “I’m going to get Bill. Hold on.” She starts to scurry away, but then turns around. “Oh, what do you want to drink?”

“Black coffee,” John says.

“Orange juice?” She says.

Cindy’s gone again.

He’s reminded by the side conversation she didn’t understand that there’s something on his mind he needs to ask her, because as much as he appreciates it, it’s starting to make him paranoid. “You haven’t asked a lot about what I..” he struggles to find the right words. “Do for work.”

“Do you want me to?” Her face is forgiving, non judgmental, although a little timid.

“No.” He hopes he doesn’t upset her with the blunt answer.

“I figured.” She’s a little disappointed, but only because she wants to know if he’s safe while on the job. And also because people that don’t reveal a lot about themselves tend to just disappear without explanation.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

She waves his apology away. “You don’t really know what I do for work either.”

“Hmm.” He leans back, man spreading and dwarfing the booth. His knees knock hers and she laughs nervously, shying away. “Nurses. Hurt people to make them feel better.”

She cringes. “I never thought of it that way.”

“You give people shots, dress wounds-“ he refers to himself “-fix plumbing, cover for maintenance, open packages, argue with stupid doctors, make older ladies adore you, hold people’s hands. This list goes on. Am I close?”

She laughs. “You’re forgetting one huge part.”

He motions for her to tell him about it.

“We wipe a lot of ass.”

His head falls into his hands, and he shakes with heavy laughter. “Jesus,” he says.

“What?” She teases. “Tough guy embarrassed by ass wiping? But not ass whipping? It’s two letters.”

His laugh gets harder, now with added groaning at her embarrassing admission in the nearly empty but still occupied diner. Full of surprises. He peaks at her through his hands. “Just how you say it.”

She shrugs. “Nature of the beast.”

He puts his chin in his hand. “What’s your dream job? Surely not that?”

She tells him, then asks the same question.

“Librarian,” John replies.

She actually does laugh at him this time because she thinks he’s joking. He joins her laughter.

“Yeah?” She asks.

He opens his arms wide as if to embrace the career choice. “Yeah.”

Why is it so strangely hot to imagine him as a strict librarian working late nights at her local book dealer? There’s more to that fantasy, and it involves her getting lost in the maze of massive shelves right before the library closes and then sexy suited librarian finding her and deciding to punish her for her carelessness - but getting horny in a restaurant is not convenient.

And Cindy’s back with Bill, who also gives them both big hugs.

“Jesus John,” he says, “you swallow more iron every day?”

“That’s what I told him!” Cindy cries, elbowing her husband.

“Bill,” John nods.

Cindy sets their drinks down in front of them. “I was just asking about you the other day,” she tells John. “You haven’t been on one of your long trips for a while.”

John sips his scalding coffee and listens to Cindy talk, occasionally nodding and agreeing with the banter between her and Bill.

She drinks her orange juice and listens to the conversation about Cindy almost getting mugged on 23rd.

“And I said, if John was here those punks would have been sorry.” Cindy puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head, then looks at her.

“He’s always been my little - “ Cindy looks back at John “ - big guard dog. Anybody comes in her looking for trouble, he’s got us covered.”

She smirks over at John, who’s trying to act like he’s not blushing again. He narrows his eyebrows at her cheeky expression in a challenging warning at that says ‘comment on these pink cheeks, and you’re fucked.’

Her eyes shy away from his own as she drinks more tangy juice.

“Oh my god, Bill, he’s laying the charm on this poor girl,” Cindy whispers in her husband’s ear.

Bill glares at Cindy. “They can hear you,” he says.

Cindy pats John’s upper arm, quelling his elevated embarrassment.

“You take it easy on her, Johnny,” Cindy says. “She’s a sweet girl.”

She peaks up at John over the rim of her glass and he is adorable enough that it makes her forget some of her own shyness.

“Remember when you chased that drunk guy down the street with a coffee cup?” Bill asks, changing the subject. “Guy was so scared he pissed his pants before you threw it and gave him a concussion.”

Cindy laughs, addressing her again. “He did it because the guy grabbed me up for us being out of pie. I mean, how can I help it if we’re out?”

“You make the pie,” Bill tells Cindy, deadpan.

“That’s besides the point,” Cindy scoffs. “Tall, Lanky, growing John steps right in and grabs this guy’s shirt collar and drags him off me. Guy gets up, tries to grab a coffee mug for nefarious reasons, but John grabs it first, looks at it, looks back at the guy, and just goes right for him.”

Bill and John chuckle.

“And after he’s done knocking this guy out with a coffee cup, he comes back in and asks Cindy if she’s alright and she fell in love with the little demon,” Bill says. “Called him her adopted son.”

“And gave him free pancakes for life,” Cindy added.  “How many do you want, by the way?” She winks at John. “Fresh blueberries.”

They place their orders, and Cindy and Bill leave them to cook and check on other customers.

“They’re so sweet,” she tells John.

John orders a literal stack of pancakes and eats them all like he’s been starving for weeks. He also eats half her big plate of bacon, eggs, and cheesy hashbrowns when she gets full.

She wonders if the wild wolves in Russia taught him how to eat every calorie you can in one sitting and then go days without, because she’s honestly never seen him eat this much or at all. She’s jealous of him, again, for being able to stay lean and bulky even after meals like this. She contemplates asking him to switch metabolisms, watching while he drinks down a cold glass of water and looks at her from the rim of his glass.

“You work tonight?” He asks.

“Twelve hours,” she groans.

“Let me give you a ride in the morning?” He asks. “I’ll pick you up in the alley across the street.”

“Well, that’s not shady,” she jokes.

“Not at all,” he agrees.

Before they leave, he tucks a casual one hundred dollar bill under their neatly stacked dishes and then hugs part of his chosen family goodbye.

“Easy, easy,” Bill laughs, being dramatic while John squeezes him. “Jesus.”

Bill and Cindy pull her in for a hug, too, and Cindy kisses her cheek. “You come back,” the sugar-smelling woman tells her, holding her shoulders. Her heart swells as she tries really hard not to cry in front of them. This whole time in New York and she thought everyone was a soulless robot, but John’s people are just the opposite of that, and she’s grateful to meet them.

She only has time to say thanks before John is escorting her out into the bearable flurry of snowflakes.

When they get into the car, she raises her eyebrows at him and smiles like he’s the most precious thing she’s ever seen. He glances away, avoiding her adoration. “Thought you got free pancakes for life?” She ribs.

He shrugs. “It was a tip.”

She’s extremely reluctant to let Mr. Wonderful himself go about his day as they pull out front of her apartment.

They stare at each other for a minute, before John talks. “Can I pick you up tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she says, the word partially muffled by his mouth while he plucks at her top lip.

He takes his kiss back and she whines involuntarily, eyes still closed and mouth open expectantly.

He opens her door, walks her to the entrance of her complex, and lays a chaste kiss to her forehead. “Go to sleep,” he says. “See you in the morning.”

[thezombieprostitute]

Mace? and a kiss...passionately?

🥹

Thank you, so much, for your patience! This ended up being the first installment of Mace x DC's second arc for the Garbage Men AU.

Frayed

Summary: There are so many new things happening in your life that the only two things you can count on are your boyfriend, Mace, and that your life is almost always in danger. 

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: Implied violence, Talk of guns. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 2

Series Masterlist

Mace hangs up the phone after Curtis tells him the news. He’d suspected Franco would be doing his own thing. After all, Wilford & Gilliam was crumbling from the lawsuits and they couldn’t afford to keep him paid, let alone under their thumb. At least there was one thing they could easily predict: he was targeting you. 

Even though Franco the Younger’s body had never been found, and never would be, he’d last been seen at your trial and the wrong people knew the Family was protecting you. Franco the Elder couldn’t do anything to the Garbage Men or their Family, but he could hurt you. As much as Jake had tried to hide your new job and address there was only so much he could do. It wasn’t likely Franco would find you, but it was still a possibility. And Mace was careful to do everything he could to help you hide. 

Part of that was dropping you off at work in the morning and picking you up in the evening. It wasn’t a long drive but he felt better keeping you out of the open air. He’d also helped you get some training with guns. You’d wanted a stun gun but you had to go through gun safety certification courses to get one. Mace had argued that practice with both wouldn’t be a bad thing. The giant brick of a stun gun was now safely secured in your purse, along with your license for it.

You and Mace had adopted the same check-in method as Curtis and Teach. It was nice to send and receive cute, loving text messages throughout the day. Especially when work was frustrating, which it often was. A text, heavy with heart emojis, from you has kept Mace from bashing a malfunctioning A/C unit. A pun from Mace made you laugh so hard you forgot what was angering you before reading it. 

By the end of your work day you are exhausted. You’ve been working on the machinery and helping admin with their terminology for grant proposals to get upgraded medical supplies. The work was tiring but at least it was also rewarding. Given the number of people the free clinic helped, you wonder if there should be at least one more in the area. Maybe you’ll bring it up with Mace or Teach. 

Mace’s work truck pulls up to the clinic and you enter the passenger seat. You smile at the bag of your favorite takeout.

“Working late I take it,” you comment.

“Unfortunately,” Mace nods. “But we got some suspicious activity from Franco and I wanted to make sure to relay it to you before going back to work.” You nod as you grab some comfort fries. Mace tells you about how they’ve confirmed Franco is stocking up on small arms munition. The current idea is that he’s going to be supplying a group to distract while he goes after his real target. 

“I know this is a lot,” Mace says. “But I also know you. The more information you have about a situation the better you’re able to process it.” 

You nod your thanks, your mind processing everything with the help of the french fries. “Thank you for that, by the way. You’re not trying to ‘protect’ me by withholding information. I’m really grateful for that.”

“Forewarned is forearmed, right?”

“I don’t know what my arms have to do with it,” you say innocently while giving him a grin.

He chuckles as he pulls the truck up to your apartment building. “If you need me before I get back you call me, okay?”

“Of course,” you say as you lean over the divider and kiss him on the cheek. You give him a wave as you enter the building. 

As soon as you’re out of sight Mace’s smile turns sad. He’s supposed to be making up for lost time but his work is getting in the way. The only solace he has is that work also keeps you safe. 

“I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Mace,” the resident says as Mace finishes up. “I feel kinda bad for calling you up for an emergency.”

“We’re looking at an upcoming heatwave and your A/C unit isn’t working,” Mace sums up. “Sounds like an emergency situation to me.”

“Thank you for seeing it like that,” she replies. “This has to be the best apartment complex I’ve ever lived in. And I’ve lived in a lot of them over the years.”

“I hear that a lot. I’m glad we can be so good for our residents.”

“Just promise me you’re keeping safe, Mr. Mace?”

“Always,” he affirms. 

“I’ve just been hearing such awful rumors from Mrs. Chen, at the corner-store?” Mace nods that he knows who she’s talking about and she continues. “She swears she’s been seeing more people in the area walking around with handguns. Whenever anyone asks they spout some ‘dangerous times’ nonsense. I mean, I know it’s not completely nonsense but still. It just feels like more guns equals more danger, you know?”

“That I do, ma’am.”

As Mace heads back to his truck and gets ready to go home to you, a thought hits him. He texts his idea to Curtis to see if there’s anything there. He’s not expecting an immediate answer so he focuses on getting back to you.

When Mace gets home he smiles at the sight before him. You’re on the couch, watching a show, wearing one of his favorite shirts and a pair of pajama shorts. You smile at him and sit up, holding out your arms, eager to hold him. 

As soon as he’s in reach, he grabs your arms, pulling you up, and gives you a most passionate kiss. It’s intense yet gentle in a way that makes your legs weak. His strong arms keep you pressed tight against his muscular chest and you manage to wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. He moans in pleasure as you return his kiss with the same fervor. 

Unfortunately, you need air so you break the kiss, chuckling as his face follows yours, seeking more kissing. 

“What brought that on,” you ask.

“Missed you,” he mumbles. “And you look so damn beautiful.”

“You’re completely whipped, you know that?”

“And?”

“And I missed you, too,” you admit before you kiss again.

Part 2

Series Masterlist

Tagging everyone who had asked to be tagged in Sparks Fly. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the list.

@alicedopey

@chibijusstuff

@fluxxdog

@icefrozendeadlyqueen

@jamneuromain

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@rebekahdawkins

@texmexdarling

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

I hate those people online who are like "here's how to fix this random, harmless feature of your body that you never previously noticed! you should do this because it's bad and ugly also you suck!" (the wording is usually kinder you get the point though). like whyyy do you need money so badly that making people hate themselves is ok?? do you genuinely think you're helping them?? if it was an insecurity, you're just making them feel worse. if it isn't an insecurity, you're making them aware of it and it could become one. all to sell a shitty course or product in which you mislead people because you have zero certifications?

I especially hate it when they frame the "before" part as morally bad, which makes people who have said feature feel even worse. why not do something with your life instead of making a living based on other people's self hatred? personally, if my income depended on people hating themselves, in the sense that I would be flat broke without it, I'd find a new job.

anyway if you want to change your appearance, go do it and have fun. there's no issue with that at all, hell, I'm doing it myself and im having a great time. the problem is making others feel awful about themselves to line their pockets. as long as you're not doing that you're just fine. also dont buy shitty things from unqualified people you see online.

[stiles-o-dylan24]

King of My Heart Chapter 17 - Suzie, Do You Copy?

Author: @stiles-o-dylan24​ Pairing: Steve x Summer Byers (eventually) Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: mentions of previous fight, language SERIES SPOTIFY PLAYLIST

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It officially takes two months since Starcourt was built for them to open and shut down almost every store that used to be thriving downtown.

Melvald's is one of the few that is left that hasn’t closed or moved to a new location inside the mall so mom still has a job… she however spends her days marking items down to an even lower clearance price because it’s just a matter of time before the store also closes for good.

Mr. B at the movie theater I had been working at stayed open for as long as he could until the movie theater in the mall opened and he had a week straight of no customers coming in to watch a movie.

It wasn’t long after that he had to let the few of us still employed go and I’ve had to desperately look for another job so I can keep saving up money for the art school program at Columbia… that I was put on the waitlist for. Which is fine if I actually think about it since we don’t really have a way to pay for me to go right now.

I was able to find a job as a lifeguard at the community pool a few days after I graduated from high school. It’s been going great the last three weeks after I finished all my training and certifications to actually be in charge of saving people from drowning.

Well it was going great until today when four new lifeguards finished their training and were officially hired on.

I’m just getting done with the morning shift when I see the new group walking around and getting the welcome tour of where everything is.

I cross my arms over my chest, not even able to help my glare when I see exactly who is a part of this new group. It’s been about eight months since I watched him pick on Lucas and start a fight with Steve for absolutely no reason other than he’s insane and other than graduation I have stayed as far away from him as I could.

Billy stops right in front of me, smirking with those evil eyes of his “Well hello again, Byers.”

“Don’t call me that” I keep my glare fixed on him and he chuckles, jerking his head back “You don’t want me to call you by your name? Did I say it wrong?”

I narrow my eyes towards him even more “No, it may be my name but you’re not allowed to call me by it– not like that anyways” I grumble and he raises his brows “So what should I call you then?”

I roll my eyes and move to step past him while I answer “Do me a favor and just don’t talk to me, you know, like ever.”

       ⋇・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・⋇

I walk into the front entrance of Starcourt and head towards the escalators, stepping onto the steps that go down to the next level. I head to my right after I get to the bottom of the escalator and I walk around a group of people before I walk through the entrance of Scoops.

Steve looks up from the ice cream bins he’s restocking and throws his arms up and out to his sides, smiling wide “The mermaid is finally here!”

The few people sitting at the tables and booths inside look over towards me and I throw him a sarcastic look as I walk up to the front counter “I don’t swim all day so I’m hardly a mermaid.”

“Well there’s always tomorrow” he shrugs and drops his arms back down to his sides. I chuckle, though I my face drops when I see movement in the back room “Who’s back there?”

“Oh, new girl– just started today” Steve answers and, new girl herself walks out of the back room. She startles and stops walking when she sees me and I narrow my eyes ever so slightly in thought as I try to place where I’ve seen her before.

Steve makes a noise and moves his arm to indicate both of us “Oh okay hey, Summer this is Robin– Robin this is–

“Summer, yeah hi–” Robin smiles, nervously looking between us before she directs her words towards me “Um, we actually had a class together last year–”

“Buckley” I snap my fingers and point towards her “Robin Buckley– we had Click’s morning history class together” I finish, quietly sighing in my relief that I figured it out because that would have driven me nuts all day, and she smiles “We did–” she shakes her head quickly, stammering “I ca– I can’t believe you actually remember me.”

“Wait we did?” Steve asks, also having been in the class, and we look over at him, noticing his confused face. He raises his brows at the look I throw him, looking between us and raising his hands up to his sides “Sorry, guess I wasn’t paying attention in that class.”

“You weren’t, you were always late” I mumble and Robin snorts, agreeing and elaborating “Walking in late and coming into class with bagel crumbs on your shirt.”

Steve glares at both of us while we laugh and shakes his head “Well I’ve blissfully forgotten that part.”

“Convenient since the memory doesn’t show you at your best” I jab and he laughs sarcastically towards me “Very funny.”

Customers walk in and Steve makes sure Robin has it sorted before he walks back over towards me “New girl is a quick learner”

“Robin” I say and he nods, repeating slowly “Yeah– Robin is a quick learner.”

I frown at him “She has a name and it’s not new girl” and Steve rolls his eyes “Oh my god, yeah I know her name– I was just– never mind…” he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the counter.

“Anyways, how was work today? You’re here earlier than usual” Steve remarks and I groan, walking back a few steps and falling back into the empty booth behind me “Yeah my shifts are going to be shorter because they hired even more lifeguards” I cover my face with my hands and grumble behind them “I think I have to quit.”

“Quit?” Steve repeats and moves forward so he can sit down next to me “But you said you have the best shift in the morning with all the older people before the families all get there.”

I drop my arms down and cross them in front of me on the table “Yeah but they’re switching me out and putting me on the afternoon shift and I won’t be alone…”

“Ooh ominous” Steve jokes when I trail off and I throw him a look, sharing the somber news responsible for my mood “Hargrove also just got hired on as a lifeguard at the pool– finished his certifications yesterday.”

Steve’s face falls and he scoots closer towards me in the booth, dropping his voice a little “What is that douchebag doing getting a job as a lifeguard with you?”

“So he can hit on anything in a bikini?” I offer and Steve’s face lets me know he was being serious and I shrug in response “He’ll do anything to not have to wear a shirt and I’m being serious, he was eating up all the attention he was getting and he was only there for five minutes before I left.”

Steve is silent with that and just glares at a spot over my shoulder. I sigh and lean back in the seat “I don’t know what to do– I need a job but I don’t think I can work with him, especially after what he did last year.”

“Yeah” Steve mumbles, running his hand up through his hair which I’ve noticed he’s doing more and more lately and I soften my face towards the side of his. Steve clears his throat and looks at me, causing me to quickly look away– even though it was pretty obvious I was staring at him and I inwardly grimace at being caught.

“Why don’t you get a job here?” Steve offers and I quickly look over at him, scrunching my face up like he’s crazy for saying that’s what I should do “Because this stupid flashy mall opening and shutting down everything downtown is the reason I had to even get a stupid new job to begin with.”

Steve rubs his hand over his mouth, nodding a few times before he lays his arm across the back of the booth “Right I know that but the hours here are pretty good and the pay is a dollar fifty more than what you’re making at the pool.”

“Of course it is” I grumble lowly and cross my arms over my chest to be one step away from pouting.

Steve laughs quietly to himself, however I can see his shoulders shake and I switch to glaring at him “What’s so funny?”

“You know you want to work here, I mean–” he laughs once, moving his hands down his navy shirt with a red tie outfit “Just look at this uniform” he stops moving his arms and flicks his hands up, winking at me “So sexy– I know you agree, plus” he reaches up and takes his white ahoy hat off and reaches over to set it on top of my head “This is the real winner of the ensemble– brings out those green eyes of yours.”

Steve lifts his hands up in a shrug, silently saying he rests his case before he sets his hands on the table.

Even with the mood I’m in, I can’t help but laugh. I chuckle, softly shaking my head at him succeeding in lifting my mood a little “Even if I wanted to attempt to be okay with working at this stupid flashy mall– Robin was just hired…”

Steve doesn’t waste a second to scoff at my reasoning, lifting his hand off the table slightly “Owner wants to hire another person because we’re so swamped during the day and because I’m such a phenomenal employee–”

“You’ve worked here for a month” I interrupt and Steve keeps talking over me like I didn’t say anything, “He told me to scout for potential applicants and recruit if I found someone who was seriously looking for a job.”

I look at him like it’s too good to be true, however, he just smiles “Job’s yours if you want it.”

       ⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇

It’s been almost a week since I got the job at Scoops and hung up my lifeguard swimsuit and whistle. While I was boycotting giving the mall a chance because they killed our downtown, I’m annoyed to say it’s actually been a lot of fun– probably because of who I get to work with… so the fun being had is not really because of the mall per-se.

Another bonus to this stupid flashy mall is that because it is ridiculously busy our work day flies by. Slinging ice cream to the masses is exhausting if I’m honest, however, I’ve already made more working here in a week than the three I was working at the pool, since I didn’t get paid to get certified that first week.

We’re just over an hour away from being able to lock the doors and start our closing routine for the parlor and I’m manning the front counter with Robin while Steve takes his last break.

I hand over a mint chip cone to a couple that has come in and Robin rings them up while I grab a cleaning rag. I walk around to the front of the counter and wipe a table down, looking up just in time to see Lucas, Max, Will and Mike walk into the ice cream parlor.

Robin sets her hands on the counter and shakes her head “Is that your little brother and his friends again?”

I walk back to the front of the counter and lean back against it, chuckling and crossing my arms over my navy blue sailor’s shirt while I answer her “Yup that’s them– bet they’re here because Day of the Dead is premiering tonight.”

The group walk towards the front counter and when they stop in front of it Mike reaches over and hits the bell, which the purpose of is to get our attention when we’re not at the counter, incessantly.

Robin rolls her eyes and says loud enough for her voice to reach the back room “Hey, dingus, your guys’ children are here.”

I scoff towards her and point at Will who’s standing in front of me “He’s my brother not my child” and Robin just lifts her hand up “You guys take care of them more than any adult I’ve seen since I’ve known you so my assessment still stands.”

Max walks over and since she’s gotten a little taller she’s now my height and is able to set her arm across my shoulder, smiling brightly “Can you please help us get into Day of the Dead?”

I throw a look over my shoulder at Robin, silently telling her I told you so when Steve opens the window that’s across the back counter. When he notices the group looking expectantly at him he flops his arm onto the counter, throwing an incredulous look back at them “Again? Seriously?”

Steve swings his eyes towards me and points at the group “Did you tell them this was okay to be a regular occurrence?”

“No” I jerk my head back, countering back instantly “Don’t blame me– you were the one that first said it was okay to do.”

“I rest my case” Robin sighs knowingly and Max snorts, causing me to look at her and see her clear her face of any previous humor, shaking her head a little “I just sneezed.”

I narrow my eyes towards her, watching as she just smiles innocently– however my attention is brought back to Mike who obnoxiously rings the front counter bell again.

Throwing him a look, I make a noise and reach over to take the bell away from his reach “This is to get our attention when we’re not out here, Michael, not when we’re standing right in front of you.”

He rolls his eyes and looks between Steve and I, offering “If we say we won’t do it again will you let us go this one last time? We’re gonna be late.”

I laugh once and argue “Your poor planning to come here and ask us for this favor with plenty of time to make your movie needs to be our problem why?”

“Please, Summie?” Will pleads with those damn puppy dog eyes and I point over towards him “Not fair, William–” I look at Max, who’s looking at me with the same puppy dog eyes and I huff, setting the bell back on the counter. I turn around and head towards the back room door, lifting my arm up to indicate they should follow “Come on, let’s go gang.”

Hearing their whispers of celebration behind me, that they get to see this movie for free now, I lead the group through the door into the back room. Steve has his arms crossed over his chest and rolls his eyes dramatically when we walk past him, which I respond by sticking my tongue out at him.

We walk over to the back door that leads into the service hallways all the stores in the mall use for their inventory deliveries and how we take our trash down to the back dumpsters. I open the door and step out into the hallway, holding it open with my foot and saying “Make sure the coast is clear and have fun!”

With excited smiles on their faces Lucas, Max, Mike and Will walk through the doorway and quickly make their way down the hallway towards the door that will lead them into one of the hallways in the movie theater.

Steve pushes into my side so he can threaten towards their retreating backs “I swear, if anybody hears about this…”

“We're dead!” the four of them answer back in unison and I move my lips between my teeth so I don’t laugh.

Steve huffs, throwing me a look like he cannot believe they just interrupted him like that and I can’t hold it back– I laugh, bumping my shoulder into him so he’ll move and I can shut the door.

“They didn’t even say thank you” Steve grumbles and I chuckle again, lifting my shoulder up in a shrug as we head through the door towards the front counter

“Will probably will in the morning when he tells me all about the movie and I’ll pass it along if he does.”

Steve nods once “Good– thank you, I’d appreciate it.”

I snort and we grab scoopers out of the clean water to get the orders that Robin is getting from the customer at the counter.

About ten minutes later the lights shut off with a click and we can hear the very audible noise the entire mall makes as the power shuts down out of nowhere. I stand up from my lean into one of the ice cream bins and look up at the dark ceiling, Steve, Robin and our two customers in the store doing the same.

“That’s weird” Steve says and walks over to where the light switch is, clicking it up and down a few times.

In between his clicking of the switch Robin sighs from beside me and looks over at him “That isn't gonna work, dingus.”

“Oh really?” comes Steve’s smartass reply before he obnoxiously flips the switch up and down over and over again, increasing how fast he’s moving his hand.

I throw him a look that screams stop it as I reply “Yeah really, the power to the whole mall just shut off but you flipping the switch to our light is definitely going to bring it back”

Just to make me look like a fool the lights come back on right as he flips the switch to the on position. My face drops and I share a look with Robin, who’s looking at me the exact same way, before we look over at Steve and see the smug look that transforms his face. He lifts his hand up and half smiles that I should never have doubted his magical electrician abilities “Let there be light.”

       ⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆⋇

The next morning I’m sitting at the table with mom and Will while we eat breakfast and I try to wake up more before I have to ride my bike to the mall.

I’m just starting to cut up my pancakes when Jonathan comes rushing out of his room and walks down the hallway. Will and I look over at him as mom gets up from the table and walks towards him “Hey, hey, hey– wait up.”

Jonathan finishes buttoning up the top buttons on his shirt and stops to face her “Oh, no, I'll eat at work– I’m late.”

“No” mom mutters and reaches up to wipe of the very obvious mark from a lipstick kiss on his cheek “Your cheek”

Will grimaces and looks at me like he wants to gag and I can’t help the snort that follows. I drop my head down as I finish cutting up my pancakes, hiding my smile by taking a bite.

“All right, all right” Jonathan embarrassingly steps away from her, lightly laughing and offering “I gotta run– see you later” before he turns and heads towards the door.

Mom lifts her arms up in a surrender and turns around, smiling and saying “All right” as she walks back towards the table to sit down again with Will and I.

Will scoffs, muttering “Ugh, gross” as he reaches for the syrup that I hand over to him.

Mom and I share a knowing chuckle and she smiles towards him “Well, I don't think you're gonna think it's gross when you fall in love.”

“I’m not gonna fall in love” Will argues gently, pouring the syrup over his own pancakes and mom nods, conceding gently “Okay”

I finish taking a drink of my orange juice and make a noise as I set my cup back down “You never know, little man– sometimes love just comes out of nowhere and hits you in the face”

“Yeah?” he asks in what I thought was a genuine tone, however, when I mumble my agreement around another bite and look over at him, I see the cheeky little smirk on his face “Hmm, so is that the real reason you stopped being a lifeguard and got a job that allowed you to work with Steve everyday?”

My face drops into a playful frown and I shake my head at him “I have no idea what you’re talking about”

“So we’re just going to ignore what happened at the Snow Ball?” Will continues and I drop my mouth open in shock “I didn’t tell you about that for you to torture me with it”

Will rolls his eyes dramatically, teasing “Oh no you got to dance with the guy you’re in love with, how torturous for you.”

“I’m not in love with him” I argue with as much conviction as I can and he laughs, raising his brows at me while he takes a bite of his food “Sure, Summie.”

I glare at him and mom tries to hide just how funny she’s finding my torment by turning her head away from us.

“Hey” she gains my attention when she gets up and walks towards the fridge “What happened here?”

Seeing the magnets on the ground along with the papers they were holding up, I shrug while Will actually answers her “I don’t know.”

Mom kneels and picks up the magnets, hanging up the coupons again before she picks up Will’s drawing of superhero Bob and stands up. She hangs the drawing back to the top of the front of the fridge and taps it sadly before she walks over to the table and sits down again.

Mom clears her throat and tries to fight off a smile while she asks “So speaking of Scoops–”

I drop my arm down onto the table and throw her a look like she better not start with me too.

Will snorts under his breath and focuses even more on his food while mom lifts her hands up like she comes in peace “How did training go last night?”

I narrow my eyes thoughtfully at her, answering through barely clenched teeth “It was fine– last day of training is today.”

She makes a quiet hmm noise and nods towards her food “That’s good, I know you’ll do great on your last training day.”

“Who gets to train you today?” Will questions, smirking towards his plate and I glare playfully at him while I answer “Robin is training me.”

He looks up at me knowingly and I throw him a look like see you were wrong, you butthead. I grab my plate and head towards the sink, rinsing it off before I walk back to the table and kiss mom’s cheek in a goodbye. I walk by Will and tousle his hair as I rush out “And Harrington” while I run towards the door and grab my bag, just hearing their laughs as I shut the front door behind me.

       ⋇・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・⋇

Once I set my bag down in the back, I clock in and make sure my uniform tie is in place before I grab my hat. I get the white ahoy hat positioned on my head when I barely see a whiteboard with some writing on it sticking out from the side of the back inventory shelves.

I furrow my brows in confusion, pointing over towards it and asking Robin who is in the back room with me “What’s that?”

“Hmm?” Robin mumbles, turning to look at where I’m pointing and from the other side of the open window along the back counter Steve widens his eyes, announcing “Nothing” before Robin joins in with “Oh it’s just a kind of running tally joke I started.”

“Started about what?” I ask and Steve shakes his head “Nothing really” however, Robin chuckles and excitedly runs over to grab it. She turns around and proudly shows me what’s written on the board.

There’s two columns, one named ‘You Rule’ with no tally marks under it and the other is ‘You Suck’ with six tally marks under it.

I read the columns out loud and look expectantly between the two, Robin smiling brightly “Dingus over there said that he could ‘up the tips’ we earn by attempting to charm the ladies that came in.”

“All right” Steve sighs out like he’s embarrassed and I move my humor filled eyes between the two, watching as Robin can barely get through her explanation without laughing “So far Popeye over there is oh for six– the sixth one happening just before you got here.”

“Wow” I breathe out, trying to keep a straight face as I look at Steve “According to the stats that means your charm… kinda sucks, Harrington”

“Yeah I can read, Byers” Steve grumbles and Robin jerks her head back “Since when?”

Steve glares at her and leans his elbows on the back counter “It's this stupid hat. I am telling you, it is totally blowing my best feature.”

“Yeah, company policy is a real drag” Robin sympathizes sarcastically and I sigh, shaking my head in mock pity “The audacity Scoops has hiding those luscious locks of yours under a sailor’s hat”

Robin snorts, laughing into her shoulder while he moves his glaring eyes between us, throwing his hands out to indicate both of us “Easy for you two to say– the hat doesn’t look ridiculous on either of you.”

“You’re trying too hard, Harrington–” I offer, nodding my head towards him “You don’t need to up the charm, just tell the truth when you see a girl you want to ask out.”

“Sum, the only truth I have to share is that I couldn’t even get into Tech and my douchebag dad is trying to teach me a lesson. I’m trying to save up money to go to a college I didn’t get into, even though I only make three bucks an hour, and I basically have no future– so using my charm to get someone to overlook all that is all I have right now.”

“That’s not all you have, Steve” I tell him quietly and he looks at me, softening his eyes and moving to respond when Robin interrupts “Hey, twelve o'clock.”

Steve looks back over his shoulder and we see a group of girls walk into the parlor. “Oh, shit, oh, shit– okay... uh… I'm going in. Okay? And you know what?” he takes his ahoy hat off and throws it through the window into the back room with us “Screw company policy.”

“Oh, my god, you're a whole new man” Robin boasts and I lift my hand up to offer him a thumbs up “Let those luscious locks be free– Farrah says so.”

Steve makes a face like I need to be quiet and I try not to laugh as he ignores me “Right? Ooh,” he mocks, moving his shoulders in a sarcastic little dance move.

In the next second though he clears his face and spins around quickly to face the group of girls that just walked in “Ahoy, ladies!”

They all flinch back startled and gasping as the one girl in the middle widens her eyes with his loud greeting and Steve continues “Didn't see you there– would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I'll be your captain–” he pauses, nodding his head a little “I'm Steve Harrington.”

The chick in the middle continues to look at him with her startled wide eye look, casually chewing her gum before she looks away and visibly sighs like the threat has passed.

Through their giggling and whispers Steve continues “Can I get you guys a little taste of the Cherries Jubilee? No? Anybody?”

Robin and I share a look while Steve continues to list off options towards the group “Banana Boat? Four people, four spoons? Share it in the booth? Anybody? It's hot out there.”

I scrunch my nose up in a grimace and Robin makes a disgusted face, looking from Steve and back towards me. She picks up a whiteboard marker and draws another tally mark in the ‘You Suck’ column, causing me to laugh with the squeak the marker makes when she draws the line with force.

Steve throws a damp cleaning towel through the window towards us and it hits Robin in the side of face, causing us both to laugh even louder as we fall back against the counter.

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A/N: Thanks so much for reading! As always let me know what you thought– comments & reblogs give me life!

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Please do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is property of @stiles-o-dylan24​ on here and wattpad and stilesodylan24 on AO3.   Stranger Things and its characters aren’t mine, however, Summer and this fanfcition is. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.     No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Posted: 12 Aug 2023

[voidsentprinces]

Adult Drama is weird. Like...even though I work at a gas station and you expect some weirdness. But my first year working here, I got some backrow seats to some weird soap opera drama going down.

The gas station, I work at, had just been renovated and was going through a "soft opening". In that we were accepting customers, getting the store set up by installing mirrors. Getting in iced coffee and getting the stocking and all the random stuff like insurance, gas delivery, food delivery etc. situated.

To begin there was the main manager, the assistant manager, the day shift who wanted to become assistant manager but due to having to wait for the insurance to kick in couldn't because the assistant manager needed to have access to reliable transportation. And without the insurance kicking in yet, they couldn't yet afford subscription glasses to get a license to get a car to get assistant transportation. Which is why even though they were the logical choice to be the assistant manager, the dude who became the assistant manager was someone lets just say...underqualified to doing the job.

So, reiterate, the main manager (works 9am - 5pm), the one chosen to be the assistant manager so we could eventually grand open in March, the person working morning to afternoon who should of been the assistant manager, the morning barista (cooks food from 4:30am - 9am part time gig), the afternoon shift lady, and two graveyard shifts. Alone Monday through Thursday and then working together Friday through Sunday (9pm - 5:30am).

The situation that is important is the assistant manager thingie. Aforementioned but the guy doing the job was more than just half-assing it. Which is why the Manager was waiting for the 1st shift worker to get insurance to eventually replace the current assistant manager. That was...until, they accidentally sold tobacco to an undercover test shopper.

For those who do not know, three bodies: Mystery Shopper, Local Police, and Corporate will occasionally send someone underage to come into a store and attempt to buy tobacco to see if the staff are I.D.ing and denying sale of tobacco, alcohol and lottery for those underage (Tobacco and Alcohol are 21 years for purchase while lottery is 18) in accordance to law.

The company has a strict, one strike your out policy. Because California law can strip any company not following this law of tobacco, alcohol, and lottery sales certification. The person who was to become the assistant manager and take over for the guy who was like...barely doing the job at all. Failed a test shopper and was subsequently fired on the spot by corporate. Leaving main manager to have to function with this newly opened gas station with an assistant manager half-assing the job the entire way through.

Well, Void, I mean you cannot fault a guy for half-assing a job that pays shit in this economy. I mean sure fine yeah, but also like...its kind of difficult for a business to function if said assistant manager isn't ordering important things like...cleaning products, tampons, coffee for morning rush, and soda bibs correctly. So we end up with things that just do not sell? And also spent like...the beginning of their shift in the bathroom, two hours of their shift doing the wrong orders, and the rest of it getting high at the dumpster outside? Its also difficult for me to do my job of keeping the place functionally clean if we run out of cleaning products, gloves to protect me from some chemicals used to clean the pumps to keep grime, oil, and dirt from building up as well?

In any case, due to the previous person ideal to the role getting fired, he's now around for longer than necessary. Which leads to the adult drama ahead:

The barista and the assistant manager. I've told you about the assistant manager but now its time to bring in the barista. Who was a married woman with kids and also part of a JW branch. Because the assistant manager comes in at 4:30am - 1pm and the Barista kind of works as a cashier fill in after they're done stocking and cooking in the morning. The two work close together alone from 4:30am until the Barista leaves at the end of the part time shift at 9am.

She starts using this time to try and convert the assistant manager to the JW religion. But something gets crossed...and they start catching feelings for each other. The manager comes in at 9am to 5pm to work their shift and notices they none too subtly are starting to take their lunches and leave and return with one another. And then they start spending time off shift together.

I am...like...half sure adultry is frowned upon by the JW religion...as are birthdays...and any holiday but putting that aside. This woman is still very much married with near adult children and a husband.

Let me digress by saying, that eventually due to corporate's rules that two people dating cannot work together due to workplace bias. The barista discreetly quits. But the assistant manager STILL goes to his lunch really quickly and drives off in a hurry. And from time to time, the barista shows up to get gas during my graveyard shift. And the assistant manager is most definitely in the car with her.

This all comes to a weird head when the aforementioned husband, one day shows up at my work during the last hour of my shift TO TRY AND THROW DOWN WITH THE ASSISTANT MANAGER IN THE MOTHERFUCKING PARKING LOT.

Since we're in the market for a new barista, the main manager is coming in early morning. So that assistant manager is now the unofficial barista cooking in the morning. ALONG WITH. Me and the secondary graveyard and anyone else pulling up on a Monday morning to witness the spectacle.

Words at exchanged but no fists are thrown because...boy all the witnesses yeah? The husband eventually leaves and the assistant manager comes back in and is all like, "I just wanna live my life man." ...my dude you are helping a woman cheat on her husband and you're surprised the husband has decided to hunt your ass down? But you just wanna live your life and be left out of this drama you are participating in? AMAZING! PLEASE CONTINUE!

The drama does NOT stop there. Because...like...holy shit. We have a regular who comes in to buy cigarettes on a weekly to nightly basis. Now and this will become important in a second:

This man is, for lack of a better definition, the most baby boomer to ever baby boom. Think of a baby boomer man. Old? Putting on the weight? Balding? Chain smoking? Hates his wife? Very weird about his politics to a racist if not bigoted degree? This guy checks all the lists.

I bring him up because he is one of the lucky millions to be kicked out of a cushy office job meant to grant him stability and a nice comfy retirement during the seventeen recessions we had. And now works at a pizza place as a delivery driver.

You know who else works at that pizza place? The barista's daughter.

The barista's daughter is obviously caught in the middle of this clusterfucker of the assistant manager and the barista in a relationship despite the barista being married with kids. And she actually has turned to THIS MAN. AND ASKS WHY PEOPLE FALL OUT OF LOVE! This man is not qualified to give ANY ADVICE TO A YOUNG ADULT WORKING THEIR STARTER JOB AT A PIZZA DELIVERY PLACE ON WHY MARRIAGES FALL APART!

Anticlimatically, the Assistant Manager eventually leaves too because, lo and behold if you do a bad enough job at your...job. Corporate will start laying into you and eventually he leaves. Still occasionally shows up with the ex-barista to drive off somewhere together. Apparently, that entire family has now been ex-communicated from that JW branch due to what transpired. And everything gets quiet again.

So yeah that is...uhh...adult drama is fucking weird.

[1eos]

hi miss kendra, i need some advice if you don't mind. your new job journey has inspired me to quit the fuckass job i'm sick of but the audhd hates to think of change, and i don't know if i should just go for a masters instead to jump up a level in the job market. or, would you suggest joining the girls in stem with a python course? i hate to see my degree (business) go to waste and have been avoiding smth in software bc of that but if the jobs are good i might have to bc i can NOT stay here any longer w no progression money wise.

i dont mind at all <3 the main reason why i will never leave tumblr is that if you curate it right this can really become a support group for audhd adults and we all help each other survive this sick ass world. bc wow that audhd response to change is sooooo hard to deal with in the workplace which sucks bc in this current climate changing jobs frequently kinda is the wave rn

but anyways advice. obvs i can't know exactly what's best for you but i will throw some questions that helped me figure out where to narrow my focus!

1st. to answer the question is i would suggest joining the girls in stem. absolutely! but don't limit your focus to a python course. the main reason i didnt get into stem earlier was that i didn't realize there were sooooo many different niches of stem and thought that just bc i didnt necessarily want to do 0s and 1s exclusively it wasn't for me but now taking different classes im seeing its a lot of different things i could excel in. like i went in doing web design and realized while i don't enjoy that the way i expected it introduced me to networking, cybersecurity, and data science which i AM interested in. so if you're interested but java gives you the ick (valid) def start poking around free resources first before committing. i investigated some reddit threads and found online it training things that i did and ofc there are a bunch of books too

currently ive subscribed to tryhackme. of all of the hands on training courses its one of the cheapest at $14 a month and its walking me through all the different areas of networking and cybersecurity and its been helpful in getting my feet wet so i can pinpoint what fields im genuinely interested in. currently, im focused on trying to find a field where im truly 100% interested in digging in bc for me ive found caring abt my field gives me excitement that takes the edge off of the ego death change puts me through 😭😭😭😭

i say all that first bc a masters will be a GREAT boon to level up your income esp if you want to work for any kind of university which i would recommend as a good starting place bc the benefits tend to be really good and colleges are relatively more chill workplaces. however, depending on which field you go in just know that a lot of jobs will take the official certifications and your bachelors. and certifications are way cheaper than masters degrees so keep that in mind. especially if you get a certification, get employed in the stem field and then you may have the chance of your employer helping pay for your masters

ofc if you can afford to get your masters now you could go the other direction and start school now and use your school's connections to get student work/part time work in your field and then your odds of being hired in a permanent position after graduating goes up by 300000000000%

and i would suggest sitting down and making a list of everything you hate about your current job and what, ideally, you want for not your dream job but like...the job that could bring you the most content you know? if you're not living to work, picture what you want to do and how your job can help facilitate that without getting in the way.

so like for me my goal is to be able to do the art i want to do without having to worry about starving to death and have as much time to focus on art. bc that's my goal i realized i wanted a job that:

in a stable field where i could potentially get a job anywhere

pays well and consistently

remote work possible

flexible schedule so that i could work less than 5 days a week

clear upward trajectory

not centered around customer service 😭

relatively low stress and doesnt need crazy hours

so with this listed out i realized i didn't actually want my main job to be in the art field bc of the inconsistency and that stem could work for me and then from there anytime i find a new job that i think i could do i investigate it and check to see if the field is shrinking, education requirements, etc etc.

this is a lot but i hope at least one of these thoughts helps you! 💖