#so like... it is so CRAZY to be *EMAILED* HATE 11 pm on a monday night

[otrtbs]

*me responding to ao3 comments with the same attitude and tone the original commenter gave me instead of ignoring/deleting/blocking*

"i'm in my evil era"

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 47 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet bombed her design pitch, and Adore and Pearl broke up.

This Chapter: Violet gets a lovely surprise, Aiden gets angrier, and Courtney comforts a friend.

***

“So,” Fame looked over at Raja, leaning back on the green velvet couch. “What do we think?”

Ivy had come by with lunch, two salad containers now sitting half empty on the table. They had received printouts from Ivy with the original couture sketches, whatever samples the designers had handed them, and polaroids of the garments as they looked today.

“About the couture looks?” Raja smiled. They were talking about the Spring collection, but Raja was also finalizing the dresses and roles for Monday’s holiday collection showroom show.

“Mmh,” Fame nodded, fiddling with her thumb, the edge of her manicure looking like it was cracking.

“Who do we want this on?” Raja held up one of Kiara’s holiday designs, the dress a lovely red. “I’m thinking blonde?”

“Good call.” Fame smiled, that particular dress without a doubt ending up in Chad Michaels’ closet. It always got Fame in the best of moods to watch Raja work, her friend at her very best when she was pulling final styles together, her eye for the entire picture unmatched.

“We still need a holiday dress for Raven,” Raja smiled, holding up her fiance's headshot. “Opening or close?”

“Who says she’s getting either?” Fame teased, a laugh leaving her when Raja shot her a look. “I want her closing. She does that very well. Makes everyone feel like spending money.”

“Mmh,” Raja smirked, a proud expression on her face, putting Raven with one of the prettiest dresses in the bunch. It was weirdly romantic how Raja always looked out for Raven, though Fame was sure she’d deny it if she was ever confronted directly.

“Okay,” Raja sat back on the couch, putting her elbow on the back, golden bracelets clacking on her wrist as she rested her head on her hand. “What’s the verdict for couture?”

“Hmm,” Fame chewed her lip, flicking through the folder on her lap. “I think Alexis should open. This sky-inspired piece of hers,” Fame pulled the sketch out, “is lovely.”

“I agree.” Raja nodded.  “And closing?”

There were several to choose from, but if Fame was being honest, there was only one that made sense for her.

“What about Violet’s?”

“Violet’s?” Raja sounded genuinely surprised, her eyes widening. “I thought you hated it?”

“What? Why?”

“Because you cut her off?”

“Raj, please,” Fame rolled her eyes. “She was talking my ear off, explaining all these incredibly unnecessary details when her work clearly spoke for itself. It’s very unbecoming to need that much reassurance of a job well done.” Fame pulled Violet’s dress from the folder, the flared sleeve and horizontal beads exactly what Fame wanted.

“Aha.”

“Good.” Fame put it down on the table, not noticing the small smile on Raja’s lips. “We’ll email everyone, and start looking for our exclusive models if we need anyone from overseas-” Fame paused. “Hold on. I have to call Courtney. This manicure is driving me absolutely crazy.”

***

It was always a rare relief when Fame decided to go into Raja’s office for a meeting rather than the other way around, and today was one of those lovely days, Ivy taking care of everything they needed and urging her to go take a real lunch break while she had the chance, that she’d call her back if necessary.

Which for Courtney meant a visit to her favorite department at Galactica: makeup. It was incredible how just walking into their suite made her whole body relax, the bright and sunny creative energy something she absolutely craved. Even the way people dressed was better down here: bright colors and fun patterns and hair every color in the rainbow. Alaska gave her a warm welcome as always, inviting her to sit down and eat with them, even sharing some of the Chinese food they’d ordered, which was a very nice addition to Courtney’s own sad little garden salad.

“You know,” Kim said, wiping her mouth with a napkin as she took in Courtney’s face, eyes squinted as if imagining the way the colors would look, “the Spring Rain palette would look amazing on you.”

“Omigod, it so would! Let’s try it out!” cried Amy, clapping her hands. Amy was the department’s coordinator, and Courtney hadn’t spoken to her much, but based on her electric-blue pigtails and ruffly Lolita dress, she knew she liked her.

“Whaddaya say, Court? Wanna be a canvas for a bit?” Alaska asked.

“Sure!”

Soon, Courtney was sitting in a director’s chair as Kim and Amy went to town on her face.

“Are your eyes green or blue?” Kim asked, tilting her chin this way and that in the bright light.

“Green. But I think in some lights they look blue.”

“Yeah, this cerulean is really picking that up.”

“Try adding a bit of the peacock,” Amy suggested.

“Yes! Good call!” Kim said, picking up the palette again.

Courtney closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of brushes being swiped against her skin, Kim’s movements both precise and certain. It was awhile before Courtney felt any urge to speak again, asking a question that had been on her mind for awhile.

“Um...do you guys know Bianca Del Rio?”

“No, I wish!” Kim chuckled. “She’s such a badass.”

“We have mutual friends. Why?” Alaska smiled curiously, and Courtney suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.

“Well...I don’t know, I was just wondering what you think of her.”

“She’s everything I want to be when I grow up,” Amy piped up, swatching a few lip colors on Courtney’s arm. “She’s supposedly a real ball-buster, but my friend at Marie-Claire says she’s a decent boss. At least, people like working for her.”

“That’s cool,” Courtney said, biting her lip, cheeks growing hot under the lights as she worked up the nerve to ask what she really wanted to know. “What about, um...her...dating history. She’s gone out with a lot of girls, huh?”

“Yeah...she has,” Alaska replied slowly, exchanging a look with Kim as Amy stepped up to apply the chosen lipstick.

Kim waved a pair of lashes in the air, waiting for the glue to become tacky.

“The thing about Bianca is…” Alaska paused, seemed unsure of whether she should continue, before saying, “She’s not really into relationships. She just doesn’t ever seem to want more than flings. I mean, we’ve crossed paths dozens of times over the years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with the same girl twice.”

“Oh.” Courtney nodded, settling back while Kim applied her lashes, wondering why her heart was pounding so fast.

“But that said, I mean...she does seem to treat people pretty well. You certainly never see girls crying about her in the tabloids, which I think says a lot, considering her...volume.”

“It helps that she’s apparently god-level in bed,” Amy giggled.

“Don’t trust the rumors,” Alaska warned.

“Well, I’ve heard it from someone first-hand, so…” Amy trailed off, giving a suggestive wink before reaching forward to finish the look with a delicate, shell-pink lip gloss, as Courtney tried her best not to squirm in her seat.

“Umm...anyway…” Alaska began awkwardly, when loud buzzing from the table interrupted. “Oh, Court, it’s Fame.”

Alaska handed her the phone, the usual seizing of Courtney’s stomach whenever her boss called telling her that the fun was over.

“Hello?”

“Courtney. I’m done with Raja, and my thumbnail is chipped.”

“Ye-”

Fame hung up before Courtney could respond, leaving her slightly puzzled.

“Thanks guys, this was super fun,” she said, sliding off the chair and grabbing her handbag, knowing she’d be expected to send a memo to design right away, along with apparently finding a manicurist to come to the office? Maybe?

“Wait!” Kim cried, holding up a lighted mirror for her to see the whole look.

“Wow.”

It was certainly a lot more colorful and dramatic than the makeup Courtney normally wore, and for a split second, she let herself imagine that she was backstage getting ready to perform, or on the set of some glamorous photo shoot, before pushing those silly fantasies down and giving Kim a grateful smile.

“Thanks, really, you guys are awesome,” Courtney said, internally lamenting the fact that she had to leave this colorful and fun office to go back to the stark white institutional tension upstairs.

***

From: Courtney A. Jenek To: (undisclosed)

Subject: Spring Runway Selection

MEMO TO GALACTICA DESIGN AND TAILORING DEPARTMENTS

FROM THE OFFICE OF MISS FAME

Please find attached the selected looks for the opening and closing of the Spring runway show, along with the alternates that we are keeping in the show, placement TBD.

Additionally, make sure to note the following upcoming deadlines in relation to the Spring couture collection:

December 5, 7 pm - submission for the rest of the Spring couture runway looks

December 11, 7 pm - final revised Spring couture submissions

December 12 - Selection of final couture looks/alternates

December 14 - Individual designer meetings with tailoring dept

December 18, 11 am - First fitting

January 11, 11 am - Second fitting

***

“Oh...“ Violet couldn’t believe it.

She had clicked on the placement, hoping that her dress would be in there somewhere, Trixie’s promise that nothing would get scrapped completely not enough to reassure her, but there it was, in black and white.

Her first couture look for Galactica was closing the fucking Spring show.

“Holy shit-” Violet whispered, the information not sinking in at all.

She had been chosen, she had done well, she was making the company proud.

Violet was just about to panic, everything so overwhelming, when a second email ticked in.

From: Courtney A. Jenek To: Violet Chachki

Subject: Fwd: Spring Runway Selection

OMG ALKDJALSKDJALDJ IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!11 AKFJSALKFJASLKFJALFSD CONGRATS!!!!!!!111

Violet snorted, Courtney’s excitement radiating through the screen, that message somehow making it real.

From: Violet Chachki To: Courtney A. Jenek Subject: Re: Fwd: Spring Runway Selection

Thanks

***

Aiden closed the door to Trixie’s office firmly behind him, using all the strength in his body not to slam it with full force. He briefly imagined how good it would feel, to be able to make the walls vibrate with all of the rage he felt inside. Instead, he swallowed down all the bitterness and headed to his desk.

It had been an awful meeting, Trixie pulling his typical nice guy act to say that he was “concerned” about Aiden’s “attitude” and wanted to make sure that he was gonna be the right fit for the Galactica team long-term. That he wanted to see more collaboration with the other designers, and as a learning experience, he should be prepared on Monday to assist backstage for the Holiday collection show.

Assist.

Aiden was a designer, not a fucking tailor, not a fucking assistant, and this was going to be a new low. Not to mention that he was already in a foul mood, having seen the selection for the opening and closing Spring runway looks. That new little brat, the baby with no experience, not like Aiden, had been chosen to close the show.

He sat at his chair for almost a minute, saying nothing, just breathing deeply. Before Kiara asked, “Everything alright, dude?”

“Oh yeah. Everything is fucking great!” Aiden snapped, not bothering to stay and take in the stricken look on her face before getting up and marching to the restrooms, where he could at least lock himself in a stall and get a tiny minute of peace and quiet.

***

“Omigod, I’m so happy to see you!” Adore exclaimed, pulling Courtney inside her apartment, over to the sofa. “I stole a bunch of alcohol from Bianca before I left, so I’m well stocked! What do you want?”

“Gin and tonic?” Courtney asked, taking off her coat and settling down against the plush velvety purple fabric of Adore’s sofa.

“Coming right up, ma’am!” Adore exclaimed, walking over to the open kitchen to pour Courtney’s drink.

“So, you seem...how are you?” Courtney ventured, knowing that Adore was probably still in a fragile state, but not wanting to destroy what seemed like a decent mood.

“Well you know… It’s been shit. But I stayed with B all week and she’s like, kinda the best in this situation. She didn’t even gloat over being right.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. I’m glad she took care of you.”

Adore set Courtney’s glass down.

“Yeah, it was nice.”

There was a firm knock on the door, and Adore jumped up again, running to answer.

“Pizza’s here!”

“Pizza?”

“Yeah, I ordered ahead because I knew you’d be working late and you probably haven’t had a real meal all--thank you!” She closed the door, carrying the boxes and a bag over to the coffee table and setting it down with a smile.

It was such a sweet gesture, and Courtney was truly starving, so she almost felt bad reminding Adore, “Um...I’m still doing that vegan thing, remember?”

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, I totally forgot, I-” Adore bit her lip, looking more distraught than was probably necessary, given the circumstances.

“It’s okay, I’ll just pull off the cheese, don’t worry!” Courtney reassured her.

“But you’ve told me like a billion times and I keep forgetting and I’m just the worst friend ever,” Adore sniffled. “I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, it’s okay, really.” Courtney crawled over to Adore, hugging her tightly.

“It’s not. I got you a kale caesar salad too because I know you used to like those but that’s not vegan either. God, what is wrong with my stupid brain?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. You’re human, you make mistakes. It was still so nice of you to get all this.” Courtney pressed a kiss to her temple. “And you know what? I’ve been so strict for a few weeks, I think it’s okay to have one cheat day.”

“Are you sure? We can order Chinese or Thai if you want, or there’s-”

“I’m sure. I came here to try and cheer you up. Not to make you feel guilty.” Courtney snuggled against her, head on her shoulder.

“Okay. We can postmates some vegan gelato for dessert.”

“Perfect.”

Adore sighed, leaning her head against Courtney’s for a moment before sitting up and opening the food. Courtney accepted the plate from her, pulling the cheese off her pizza and shaking up the caesar salad - she decided that she could handle the dressing if she omitted the little container of parmesan.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Courtney looked up at Adore and asked, “Do you want my cheese?”

Adore’s eyes widened, looking down at her plate.

“Yes!”

She took it with such enthusiasm that it made Courtney laugh.

“Was this the plan all along?”

“I wish. I’m not that smart,” Adore told her.

“Yeah you are. You’re very smart. You’re the best.”

Adore held her gaze for a few moments, eyes welling up before the tears spilled down her cheeks. She covered her face, and Courtney shoved the plates aside, laying Adore’s head down in her lap.

Courtney stroked her hair for awhile, letting her cry, not saying anything, tears soaking into her skirt and tights. When her sniffling finally subsided, she asked, “So on a scale of 1 to 10...how much do we hate her?”

Adore rubbed her red, swollen eyes. “That’s the hardest part. I don’t really hate her at all. I mean, I asked her to be honest with me, and she was, and...it just wasn’t what I wanted to hear. So...no, I don’t hate her. It would be too exhausting to hate her.”

Courtney took her hand, holding it tight and solemnly saying, “Okay. Then I’ll hate her for you. So you don’t have to.”

Adore’s face crumbled as her tears began falling again.

“You’re the best friend in the world.”

“No, you are,” Courtney said with a grin. “Come on, let’s go wash your face and order that gelato!”

***

“I just can’t believe that my dress is going out on that runway, like, I was so sure Fame absolutely hated it, and-”

“You don’t need to chop the parsley that finely lovely eyes,” Sutan smiled, stirring the pasta puttanesca sauce they had made together. Sutan wasn’t necessarily the best cook in the world, neither he or Raja ever really picking up on their mothers love of spending time in the kitchen, but he could do a few dishes well, and after seeing Violet’s fridge, he had made it a mission to make sure his girlfriend had a minimum of culinary experience.

“Oh,” Violet paused, looking down at the cutting board. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sutan pressed a quick kiss against her temple, standing side by side in the kitchen surprisingly nice. “I know it’ll be just as amazing as your holiday dress.”

“Please,” Violet smiled, though Sutan could see on her face that she was pleased. He wasn’t going to buy anything at the show, but he was still coming along, both to test one of his newer models, but also because he wanted to see what Violet had created in action.

“I’m serious.”

The sauce was almost done, Violet pulling a face when she had seen him slice up the anchovies, but Sutan was pretty sure that she’d like the dish, if what she tended to gravitate towards could be used as any indication.

“Would you mind setting the table?”

“Not at all,” Violet smiled, putting the knife down, quickly washing her fingers, her jewelry left in the little bowl by the sink that Raja and sometimes Raven had used when they all lived together.

Sutan hadn’t actually noticed it until Violet had dumped her rings into it, the fact that it was there completely escaping his attention, interior design never something that had interested him.

When he had gotten married to Kahmora, he had moved from this apartment directly into her place and back again after their divorce, how she wanted things decorated not anything that had mattered to him in the short time they had been married.

He had never really lived with Jinkx, their relationship thankfully never moving any further than their disastrous engagement, but he was fairly certain that he wouldn’t have been asked about his preferences, shame momentarily curling in his belly at the thought of how unfair and terrible he had been to Jinkx.

“Sutan?” He was pulled out of his thoughts by Violet’s voice, the woman standing by his cabinet with a smile on her face. “Did you buy wine? To have with dinner?”

“I got us a bottle of red.”

“Okay,” Violet nodded, grabbing the wine glasses from the shelf. Juju used to complain when she came over, and had told both Raja and Sutan multiple times that the apartment was furnished for giants, but Violet never had trouble getting anything.

Sutan’s alarm went off, telling him it was time to drain the pasta, Violet handing him two plates so he could serve up their meal, both of them sitting down at the table.

“Do you like it?” Sutan smiled as he watched Violet taste the food, a thoughtful expression on her face as she chewed on it.

“It’s fine.”

“So you hate it?” Sutan lifted an eyebrow, a smirk on his face.

“No!” Violet seemed outraged. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” Violet kicked him under the table, smiling now. “It’s nice.”

“Sure,” Sutan laughed, Violet’s deadpan deliveries still something he was getting used to, her dry humor a lot more enjoyable than he had ever imagined. “Good.”

They ate for a while, chatting back and forth, Sutan refilling their glasses, Violet almost finished with her pasta when she put down her fork.

“I-” Violet looked at him, her teeth biting into her lip. “I’ve been thinking about Aspen?”

“Yes?”

“And I’d like to go.”

“Oh?” Sutan wasn’t aware that it had been something she had been considering, the fact that she was even thinking about turning it down not even crossing his mind.

“Well I’m glad.” Sutan smiled, hiding his confusion. “Mostly because I already booked your plane ticket.”

“Really?” Violet sounded genuinely surprised, almost as if she wasn’t sure if he had been serious about the offer.

“Really, not that I would have forced you to come.” Sutan tapped her foot under the table, Violet still such a mystery to him. “Raven on the other hand,” Sutan smiled. “That could have been a problem, since she’s bought matching everything for you two.”

“... What?”

***

ADORE: Courtney’s a vegan, you know.

BIANCA: Yeah, she told me.

ADORE: I keep forgetting like an asshole so I just wanted to make sure you knew and would have some vegan stuff on thurs

BIANCA: It’s gonna be 100% vegan, I hired a chef to cater. She even making vegan relleno de pavo

ADORE: WAIT WHAT

ADORE: How the FUCK do you make vegan relleno de pavo?

BIANCA: I dunno, but she’s a professional.

ADORE: And what about the corn pudding? IT NEEDS BUTTER

BIANCA: Would you relax? It’ll be delicious

ADORE: WHAT ABOUT THE TURKEY

BIANCA: I don’t eat turkey. You’re outvoted 2 to 1.

ADORE: BIANCA DEL RIO I’VE HAD A VERY TRAUMATIC WEEK! IT’S THANKSGIVING! TURKEY!

BIANCA: I’ll get you a package of fucking Hillshire Farm, calm down

ADORE: I want to be mad at that but I love Hillshire Farm. lol

BIANCA: You’re welcome

BIANCA: Btw you’re also welcome to cook whatever you like and contribute to the meal

ADORE: Um...no thanks

BIANCA: Thought so, cunt

[purplesurveys]

1163

survey by l-baby

When was the last time you went out to eat? Where did you go? It would be a month this week; I just went to Feliz for some truffle pasta and hot chocolate to treat myself.

Who was your last e-mail from? I have no idea. I also have no intent to check because my weekend’s just starting. Maybe tomorrow or Sunday when I do my usual weekend unreading of new emails that come in so that my emails won’t look as clogged on Monday.

Have you ever watched a whole hour long infomercial? I probably did as a kid but definitely not recently.

What are your plans for tonight? Catch up on surveys since I haven’t taken any all week...and catch up on the 8 years’ worth of BTS content I stupidly refused to consume this whole time. I have a feeling that’s all this weekend’s going to be but I have no complaints whatsoever lol.

When was the last time you had an alcoholic drink? Around two weeks ago when I mixed soju and Yakult together.

Look to your left and down, what do you see? I can see a part of the pillow I’m sitting on, as well as the cord for my night lamp.

Could you go for a nap right about now? It’s past 10:30 PM so any ‘nap’ I would attempt to take will most likely turn into 6–7 hours, so I don’t think is possible anymore.

Do you ever watch the Food Network channel? I don’t think we ever had it when we had cable, actually. But I can see it being a channel I’d check out regularly for all the cooking content.

Have you taken a shower today? Yeah, this morning. I can go for another but I’m just too lazy, plus I’ve already lit up my candle and I don’t want to leave it unattended.

Are you in a relationship? If so, who are they and do you love them? I am not.

Do you like cheese? It’s okay and I like exploring new cheeses, but I’m not obsessed.

What did you do yesterday? The usual things I do at work since I had a shift yesteray. I also made the very reckless impulse decision to buy Ivy Park shoes (it’s my birthday month, so I gave myself a pass) and also bought Frankie’s, which I haven’t had in well over a year, for me and my family.

What's the weather like today? I was actually spending some time at the rooftop tonight since it was very windy and cold...but the wind eventually started interfering with my candle so I had to go back to my room. The ventilation isn’t quite as good here, so even though I have my windows open and all, I’ve started to sweat a bit and it’s just quite warm and uncomfortable overall. I’ll have to turn on my aircon in a bit.

Do you like rap? It’s okay but it’s not my favorite genre. My interest for Korean rappers definitely ballooned over the week since I started getting into BTS, though hahahaha.

What is your current myspace song?

Would you say that you give good advice? It depends on the situation, I would say. I can’t give advice on home improvement but I’m comfortable with giving advice on things like family or relationship issues. Basically things I’ve already gone through or have a better idea about.

Are you any good at cooking? I am no good at it.

What is your favorite kind of meat to put on your sandwich? Pulled pork.

Have you ever been in a competition? A few ones.

Do you like onion? Yessssss, I love them in all forms.

How about mushrooms? They’re fine. They never really taste like anything though?? which is why I don’t mind seeing them in my meals.

What is the best thing about your cell phone? It’s been pretty durable for a phone I’ve had for three years. Given how destructive I can be (lol), most never lasted that long with me.

Do you tend to cave into peer pressure? My friends have definitely served as influences when it comes to stuff I initially refused to try but eventually did, like drinking, vaping, etc., but I’ve always made sure that it’s my choice and that I’m comfortable trying a new thing at the end of the day.

Do you think it's attractive for a man to wear eyeliner? I don’t care about who wears eyeliner.

| Either Or |

Spicy or Bland? What’s the point of eating something that tastes bland? Haha my tolerance for spicy food isn’t the highest but I’d still prefer food that tastes like something.

Diet Soda or Regular Soda? Not a soda drinker.

Smoothie or Milkshake? Milkshake because as far as I know smoothies are supposed to be healthy and that a big chunk of them are made with fruits.

Sweet or Sour? Sweet. I hate hate hate sour foods.

Clean or Dirty? Clean, I guess. 

Slow or Busy? Busy. I thrive on activity, which is why I’ve always enjoyed large cities. I also prefer busy days at work, even though it can be exhausting. It’s nice to feel productive and accomplished at the end of a long day.

Big or Small? You’ll need to be more specific.

Shower or Bath? I find showers more relaxing.

Cold or Hot? Cold.

Short or Tall? Idk.

| More Questions |

What did you have for dinner last night? My mom made burgers. The Frankie’s I ordered was also supposed to be a part of dinner, but the branch I bought from was staaaaaaaaacked with other orders. My delivery guy informed me there were 50+ other delivery drivers waiting so my order would most likely take a while. In the end it took 2 1/2 hours for my order to get to me, but we were all full from dinner anyway so it was fine. I also didn’t want my driver to be stressed out so I assured him I was okay with the wait and that he doesn’t have to drive crazy fast to my house.

Do you pray often? I never do it.

Name three things you've done today: Took a long ass nap from 11 AM to 3 PM, found out my great-uncle has passed from Covid, had curry and roti for dinner.

Would your friends say you are a understanding person? I think they’d say I’m too understanding.

Are you close to either one of your parents? No.

Do you know anyone who snores when they sleep? Yeah.

Are your lips currently dry? A little but, but they aren’t chapped or anything like that.

Are your nails long or short? It’s long enough for a trim but it’s not disgusting levels of long.

Have you ever gotten food poisoning? Yup but just once. Not something I’d want to go through again.

Would you say that you are emotionally strong? I think I am now, yeah. For a long time I wasn’t.

What messenger services do you use? I have Messenger, Viber, Whatsapp, and Telegram on my phone and laptop.

What is your favorite pair of shoes? Right now it’s my Onitsuka Tiger sneakers, but I feel like my Ivy Park shoes will be my new favorite once they finally arrive hehe.

Do you change your myspace page often?

Are you listening to music currently? Yes, but it’s very faint.

[mi6-cafe]

The fourth and FINAL week of writing for LDWS participants has come to a close. Now it’s time for the next (and last!) bit of the competition: reading and voting!  

Photo prompt: 

Word count: 300 

Voters–after you read, check out this form to vote for your top three drabbles! You can also leave anonymous feedback for the writers!

Who can vote? Anyone who’s read the drabbles! Yes, that includes YOU!  

Writers–you may also vote, but we do ask that you vote for three drabbles other than your own.  

The voting period ends at 11:59 PM EST on Sunday night. Results will be posted and anonymous feedback will be emailed on Monday.

Remember, readers–it’s up to YOU to decide who will wind up on top at the end of the competition!

Drabbles are under the read-more:

1) 

Title: Something Special Warnings: none Summary: Q gives James a part of himself.

Author: Melynen

There is nothing particularly special about the framed poster on Q’s bedroom wall. If anything, it could even be mistaken for one of the beautiful yet generic Greek views one can find on postcards from many of the islands that have any tourism. James knows this for a fact as he remembers seeing a strikingly similar view both in Santorini and Crete; and he has even sent Q a postcard of such a view the last time he was in Greece for a mission.

The card has found its spot on Q’s fridge door, held in place with a fridge magnet of a Greek cat illustration James brought him from the previous Greek mission.

James remembers paying any mind to the poster only after his sixth or so visit to Q’s bedroom. Before, there had been other, more interesting things - like the paleness of Q’s throat and the enticing way he gasps when James touches the inside of his knee just so - to focus on.

It's one of those nights when they’re cuddling under the duvet, nude and still slightly sticky with cooling sweat, with Q’s cheek resting against James’ chest and James’ fingers carding through Q’s hair, when James glances at the poster and hears Q sigh softly.

”It’s a photo my mother took when she was in Santorini with my father,” Q explains quietly. ”It’s where she realised she loved him, and where they returned a year later on their honeymoon, and again every year for their anniversary until she died.”

James looks at the poster again, takes in the cheery ambiance and the beautiful view, and makes up his mind. ”Can I take you there?” he asks against Q’s tangle of silky curls.

And when Q wordlessly nods his assent, James realises he’s been given something special.

2) 

Title: Almost Warnings: Canon-typical violence Summary:It was their first vacation together.

Author: Azure7539arts

It had been completely unexpected, although he supposed he should’ve been on his guard more. Should’ve been less distracted by the small quirk of a smile tugging on the lips of the man sitting across from him at the table.

The day had been bright and the blue sea shone a dazzling kind of bejeweled, all the lives and ships it had taken and swallowed up whole buried deep somewhere in the seabed and under the now calm, gentle waves.

He should’ve seen it coming, really.

He shouldn’t have been so absorbed in the brush of warm hand against his own knuckles, shouldn’t have let the cooling breeze lull him into false security as the scent of the sea and that of the vibrantly blooming flowers around them swaddled them up in its linen blanket.

It was almost perfect, the life of the city pulsing around them in that mid-morning energy as the sun tingled and kissed their skin from the edges of the umbrella. And now that he’d thought about it, looking at the way the feet next to him wiggled a little right at the rim of shadow separating their shade from the rest of the radiant, iridescent light outside as though it was a game of peek-a-boo, it had always been the little things that made him fall in love.

It was almost perfect, and it could’ve been exactly as perfect as it could have ever been when they leaned closer to press the bows of their lips together.

Until a distinct whizzing tore through the air just beyond his closed eyes and a thud of something fast hitting its target shattered this rosy lens into thousands of pieces.

The body next to him lurched, suddenly going heavy.

“Q?” Bond whispered, shivering.

But there was no reply.

3) 

Title: Gentlemanly Warnings: Omegaverse, y'all, but nothing too crazy Summary: The gang goes on vacation.

Author: Solitaryjane

Q watched Bond come toward him from the ocean. His chest glistened under the sun, and his pair of tight black swimtrunks somehow skirted the line of obscene and straight into sophistication. It contrasted sharply with other alphas, all eager to show off their bulges and purposefully dripping sweat onto any omegas that caught their eyes. A bunch of crass, disgusting idiots. Q had no patience for that lot.

“Don’t like the water?” Bond asked as he plopped himself onto the towel Q was currently sunbathing on. Q snorted. It was bloody nine in the morning; the water wouldn't be warm until noon.

“Some of us actually need to work to get a tan going,” Q replied.

“Wouldn't you just burn?”

“Ah, that’s where you come in.”  He sat up, handing Bond a bottle of sunscreen. The alpha said nothing as he poured the lotion onto his hands. He spread it onto Q’s back, kneading the muscles as he did so. Q could feel his warm breath on the side of his neck. He wanted Bond to come closer, to soak in the man’s spicy scent. But the salt of the ocean had washed off most of the alpha’s pheromones. It left Q’s head completely clear, something he secretly wished weren't so.

***

On the terrace above, Eve let out a loud sigh as she slumped on the table.

“For heaven’s sake, just fuck already,” she griped. “Watching them pretending to be civil is giving me a colossal migraine.”

“You know that’s not how Bond works,” Tanner answered beside her. “He has to make sure Q’s ‘in his right mind’ when he asks. Being a gentleman and all.”

“Bill, look over there and tell me,” she deadpanned. “Which part of that omega’s demeanor says he wants a gentleman to you?”

4) 

Title: Sun, Sea, and Spies Summary: Luxury holiday spots are all well and good until the weapons come out. Warnings: None.

Author: SolarMorrigan

Truly, this was lovely. The fresh, salt smell of the sea, the bright sunshine nearly tangible in the air, the cool breeze that wound its way through the little covered tables, the soothing hush of waves against the shore, Bond’s hand over Q’s where it rested on the tabletop, his thumb stroking soft circles into Q’s wrist.

Lovely, lovely, lovely.

It was so nice, Q could almost relax.

Almost.

“You know, I’d like to go on a real holiday someday.”

Bond sighed, just to the side of dramatic. “There’s no pleasing you, is there? I take you somewhere exotic, bring you to a nice resort, get you lunch…”

“Get me shot at.”

“Fairly certain I’d remember if there had been shooting.”

Q leaned in, murmuring into Bond’s ear like he was imparting some teasing secret. “The man at your eight o’ clock with a conspicuous bulge in his pocket suggests we’re about to be shot at.”

“Perhaps he’s just happy to see you,” Bond suggested, though he knew Q’s judgment was trustworthy.

Pulling back, Q cocked a desperately unimpressed eyebrow at Bond, but was ignored in favor of the new man approaching their table, hand resting not-quite-casually at his hip.

“Well,” Bond reached over with one hand to tilt Q’s head towards him, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he grasped under the table for his weapon with his other hand, “what’s a holiday without a little adventure?”

Q frowned. “I really do hate you sometimes,” he said, but Bond could see him squaring himself up for the fight ahead, ready to go through whatever was needed to complete their mission.

Bond smirked against Q’s cheek, fond and proud, his attention still on their potential assailants, but amused by his lover all the same. “I love you too, Q.”

5) 

Title: Mediterranean shot Warnings: None Rating: G

Author: Susspencer

Q sat under the white umbrellas staring at the sea. Between the smell of the fresh fruit and the salt air, all he could do was relax.  He sipped his morning tea.  He normally would have been watching the people but he was lost in the blues of the sky and sea.  It reminded him of James’ eyes.

007 peered through the scope of the rifle.  Carefully he searched for  his target.  The barrels of fresh oranges, the people crowded under the white umbrellas, and a young man at the back table filled his view as he scanned the area.  James stopped on Q.  He sighed as he watched as Q just sat there completely unaware of what was happening around him.  James pulled his head up for a moment and shook it. He couldn’t believe that they were at this point.

The waiter walked over to Q.  

“Can I get you anything else sir?”

“Yes, the sign says, fruit pots for take away?  I would like to get a pot for a friend.” Q ordered.

“Certainly, sir.  I’ll be right back.”

The waiter gathered the fruit pot and a gun.  James adjusted the scope with a sigh, as the waiter returned to the table, it was now or never.  007 knew he had to take this shot, but he dreaded it.  The waiter sat the fruit pot down. There was a single gunshot.  A man fell to the ground.  James grabbed his gun, policed his brass, and returned to his hotel room.  

James sat on the sofa, the door opened.  He looked up to see Q with the fruit pot.

“I brought you a gift. I suppose it is a thank you gift.  I wasn’t even aware of the threat.” Q stated, as he joined James on the couch.

6) 

Title: Lost and Found Warnings: none Summary: Sometimes it’s best to start over…

Author: Ato

He feels warm for the first time in a week.  

At least on the outside.

There’s something cathartic about walking away and starting over.  The dread that leads up to it is awful, the actual leaving is painful, but sitting on a warm veranda with no responsibilities for the first time in memory is actually a bit wonderful.  Even with the cost… so high this time.  Even with the flashing blue of the sea sparking memories of his eyes.

He’s on his third round of the local cocktail, tongue delightfully cool and throat wonderfully warm, when a familiar shadow stretches out beside his own.  

He’d know those ears anywhere.  Damn.

“Hello, 007,” he greets quietly.  “Here to pull a trigger?”

“Or not pull a trigger,” Bond answers, reminiscent of their first conversation.  “Took me a while to find you.” Bond seems impressed.  “Thought you hated flying... and the sun.”

Q shrugs.  “Part of the Q-persona.  Best to keep some things close to one’s chest,” he mutters, eyes on the Mediterranean.  

Bond grunts in understanding, then after a moment, asks, “Was accepting my dinner invitation part of the Q-persona?”

“No,” Q acknowledges, glancing at Bond.  “Missing that was the worst part of leaving.”

They both watch the calm blue of the sea, but Q senses the tumultuous potential between them.  

“Did you mean for it to happen?” Bond asks solemnly.

Three agents dead.  Q shudders.  “Of course not.”

James nods, taking a seat beside Q. “Whatever he’s having,” he orders when the waiter comes by.

After his first sip, Bond closes his eyes and leans back in the chair.

“When was the last time you had a vacation?”

Q huffs a laugh.  “No idea,” he admits.  

James waves the waiter over for another round.  “In that case, we're in no hurry.”

7) 

Title:  Peach Warnings: NSFW! Porn! Smut! Summary: As it turns out, the cheeky young barman had been holding out on him…

Author: Iambid

One week.

Seven long days filled with flirting and coy smiles from the sexy young barkeeper.

One-hundred and sixty-eight hours since he’d innocently asked him “what’ll it be?” with a sweet smile and James had started to close in like a shark tasting blood in the water.

“A peach.” He’d replied.

The barman, Q, had tried to tell James that they had no peaches, only oranges and lemons that he could squeeze the juice from and make a refreshing drink with, if James wished but James persisted.  He wanted a peach.  A week of teasing followed before Q finally took pity on James and dragged him into the small shed where they stored the fruit, allowing James to strip him of his gaudy tropical vest and toy with the button on his white linen shorts, his arms wrapped around him from behind.  Q whined as James kissed his shoulder and pushed them off his hips.  He was naked underneath.  His buttocks perfectly round and perfectly smooth and perfectly white against the tanned skin of his back.

“I bloody knew it. I need to get you onto a nudist beach.  Even you out.” James muttered, falling to his knees to squeeze the perfect globes.  He leaned forward in the small dark room, smelling citrus and Q’s sweat as he licked a stripe over the base of Q’s back.  The fruity aroma clung to Q’s skin and made him taste like Earl Grey tea.

“Please…”  Q moaned, reaching back to grab James’s hair and hold him steady as he ground his hips.  James set to, kissing and licking at him until he was relaxed enough to take James up to the hilt.  James looked down as he began to thrust, unable to take his eyes off Q’s perfect arse.

What a peach.

8) 

Title: Santorini Warnings: none Summary:  Greece is for lovers.

Author: Beaubete

The wine is sharp on his tongue, fizzy.  Q glances over the whitewashed wall at the sea's shocking blue.  It calls to him like a voice; perhaps he'll dip his toes in it later after the sun's white heat has faded.  For now he's content to sit slathered in SPF and watch the waves break on the shore.  

It's all very peaceful.  The restaurant's a dazzle of different voices, different languages, and while some threads of conversation drift through his ear, for the most part he is alone.  It's the best holiday he's ever had.

It hadn't started that way.  It started with explosions, with tears.  It started with James Bond walking into his office and out of his life, with a bottle of wine on his couch and with the realization that he'd amassed a frankly daunting amount of leave, primarily because he'd wanted always to be available for Bond.  The discovery had left him a burst balloon until he'd thrown together a hasty plan to get as far from England as he could.

There's nothing of home's deep shadows here.  Everything here is washed with light until it is the most brilliant versions of itself.  The wine is fruitier, the salt more savoury; distantly, he's aware that this is reactionary, that he may not feel this way later.  For now, he's content to bask like a lizard in the sun.

English is by far the least spoken language here, and he cannot help listening when he hears it; somewhere behind him, a couple are having a whispered disagreement.

"I can't.  You don't understand.  I was cruel."

"I understand that you're a fool."

"I understand that too.  I still can't."

Q's lip curls.  Then:

"Excuse me" and eyes as blue as the sea.

"Bond."  Q's tongue goes numb.

"Q."

9) 

Title: It's All Greek to Me Warning: None Summary: Bond scores a security detail with benefits.

GwyllionDream

“Dyo kafedes,” Bond said, deciding it was easier to request two coffees in mangled Greek than to try for Q’s customary Earl Grey.

He found a table for two at the rooftop café and waited for Q to join him.

For the past few months, Bond had obeyed M’s every directive so he could score the security detail at Q’s International Cyber-Security Conference in Athens. The side trip to Santorini had been Q’s idea.

It seemed that Q was full of surprises.

Bond smiled and tilted his head back to let the sun warm his face. The scent of the Mediterranean mixed with the aroma of citrus and sunscreen. Memories of the past night flooded his mind.

Q had let Bond drag him from the infinity pool by his board shorts.

“Too many clothes,” Bond muttered, pressing Q into the soft mattress.

He dipped his head to lick droplets of chlorinated water from Q’s navel while divesting him of his swimwear.

Q rose onto his knees, planting himself in Bond’s naked lap. He grabbed Bond’s shoulders and took what he demanded with the pleading clench of his arse.

Bond gripped Q’s hips and delivered, thrusting so energetically that Q’s knees burned from the friction of skidding across the duvet.

Shuddering and damp with his own spend, Q’s head lolled back as he voiced a satisfied purr.

Only then did Bond let himself go, breathing Q’s name….

“Q….”

“Good morning,” Q said. He turned to the waitress and asked, “Tha boroúsate na mou férete mia katsaróla nkrízou kómis, parakaló?”

She nodded and smiled.

“What did you tell her?” Bond whispered.

“Nothing naughty,” Q said with a wink. “I ordered a pot of Earl Grey.”

Bond grinned. The fact that Q could speak Greek was the least of his surprises this week.

10) 

Title: Jolly Holiday Warnings: None Summary: A vacation to remember.

Author: Venstar

“Go on holiday they said. Bask in the sunlight they said. Enjoy your time away from the office they said!” Q’s voice was razor sharp and cutting as he hissed his rambling monologue in Bond’s ear. In fact, Bond could swear spittle hit his earlobe several times.

Bond murmured carefully back to him from the corner of his mouth. “Are you talking to yourself again?”

Again, Q was like an angry hornet in his ear. He even punched Bond’s shoulder with his bony knuckles, hard as he punctuated each sentence. “Yes. I am. Does that bother you?”

“No. I'm just wondering how long it’ll take before they find us with you wittering on like an old nanny goat.”

“Nanny goat! Hey, I’ll bitch about going on holiday when I want to bitch about going on holiday okay! You shot up the bar! It was a peaceful place.”

“The decor was outdated.”

Q sputtered. “It was a perfectly delightful, quaint Mediterranean bar. They had homemade lemonade and sodas. It had cute little chairs that I could sit on all by myself. At a table, all by myself.”

Bond didn’t even hesitate in teasing Q further. “As I said. Outdated.”

Q’s face grew red. Well redder than it already was. Poor, pale, old thing was sunburned.

“It had umbrellas that protected my skin from the sun!”

Q punched Bond again. “And now look at us. Look at me, I’m burnt to a crisp because you interrupted my holiday because M sent you out on a mission and you didn’t like the handler R assigned you so you led your target all the way over here! To my vacation spot, because you’re spoiled!”

Bond smiled. “So you’ll help me then?”

“I’ll help shoot you myself. Now give me that drive, you pompous git.”

11) 

Title: No Interruptions, Please Rating: G Summary: Bond and Q take a long holiday.

Author: IrishWitch58

The sun glittered off the Aegean, the landscape saturated with color. Bond adjusted his sunglasses and picked up his vibrating phone and checked messages. Eve was responsible for most of them.

'Q hasn't taken leave in two years. Now he's disappeared for a month.'

'I think R knows something but she won't tell me anything'

Bond's early responses, that a man who took leave only once in two years was entitled to his leave and to his privacy hadn't been well received. He smiled as he checked the new text alert. Not Moneypenny. He signaled the waiter and requested a bottle of the local wine and two glasses along with an appetizer plate. He leaned back appreciating the view. Santorini in early April was lovely, sunny, and warm. He looked forward to swimming or maybe renting a small boat for a day. He was, after all, on leave himself.

A shadow crossed the brick pavement and a figure in white slacks and a purple striped shirt settled in the other chair. “The ferry ride was very relaxing,” Q acknowledged, laying a manila envelope on the table.

“What did you tell Tanner?”

Q held up a phone. “I gave him this number and told him if he called with anything less than Armageddon I would exact consequences. He may have a stroke when I send in the paperwork on this.”

Bond handed over a glass of the wine as he looked at the formal certificate in the envelope. “Put the paperwork in right before we go back. Then Tanner and Moneypenny can both yell at us at once.” He sipped his own wine and clasped Q's hand across the table, touching the new platinum band he'd kept hidden the past five days. “I think we deserve a proper honeymoon don't you?.”

12) 

Title: Holidaying On A Mission Rating: G Warnings: none Summary: there was absolutely no reason why they shouldn't enjoy themselves on MI6 salary

Author: Sunaddicted

The scraping of the bar stool next to his own spoke of someone drunk or someone annoyed and looking forward to getting drunk.

"Does MI6 pay you for drinking your liver into a nasty case of hepatic cirrhosis?"

James grinned and tossed back the last of his cocktail, not needing to look at Q to know  he was scowling: the other man could be as easily predictable in some things - like his disapproval of unncessarily destroyed equipment and excessive consumption of alcohol - as he could be completely impenetrable in others "It's all part of the cover"

"Every single time?"

"What can I say? It's a good one"

Q rolled his eyes and tried to move his bar stool without having to stand up, trying to hide as much as he could in the refreshing shade of the beach umbrella: he could already feel his pale skin starting to fry, despite the copious amounts of sunscreen he had religiously applied before putting even a toe out of the hotel - no matter how inviting the glittering blue sea had seemed.

He both envied the agent's golden tan, deepened by Santorini's scorching sun, and thirsted at the way it made the other's muscles seem even bigger - Q shifted, lazily flicking the image away before he embarrassed himself.  

"What can I get you?"

Q turned to look at the other man "Are you trying to get me drunk, Bond?"

James leaned in, trigger finger under the younger man's chin to draw him closer and keep him there "Do I need to?"

"No"

In the heat, the kiss made Q breathless - he choked on salt, vodka, tan lotion and the taste of the other's lips.

Diving deeper.

Craving more.  

"Let's go back to the hotel"

It wasn't an invitation he had any intentions of refusing.  

13) 

Title: A Yacht on the Mediterranean Warnings: none Summary: Mallory needs an explanation.

Author: Kiddohno

This is technically not a disciplinary meeting, and Mallory must remember that. He looks between the two men sitting on the opposite side of his desk, in his locked office. Quite frankly, he’s completely dumbfounded by the whole situation.

Bond looks inappropriately amused. Q appears to be trying for contrite, but he’s also very clearly holding back a giggle.

The details of the conversation they are about to have should be confined to this room, but Moneypenny is undoubtedly eavesdropping, and it will surely be all around the agency by noon. He sighs, lamenting his position as leader of a herd of overgrown children.

“Will one of you explain to me how it came to be,” he begins, “That, after being sent out on what was barely more than a milk run, two of my staff end up returning legally married, and two weeks late.”

Q’s high giggle escapes. Bond smirks.

“Well, Sir, the Mediterranean is very romantic.”

Mallory glares. Bond shrugs.

“Mr. Vinton had a yacht,” is what Q adds, rather nonsensically.

“A yacht.”

Q nods.

“He insisted on it. Our honeymoon, I mean. On the yacht. Because Bond had said I was his fiance, as a cover.”

“Actually,” Bond says, “I’d told Mr. Vinton that I’d brought Q on holiday to propose. When he became suspicious, I had to get on one knee at this lovely little seaside restaurant. Then convinced,” Bond gestures as if the motion explains everything, “he invited us to honeymoon, on his yacht.”

“But first, we had to actually get married, and Vinton wanted to be there as a witness, so we had to. Actually, um, get married.”

“Naturally.”

“We did complete our objectives, Sir.” Q points out respectfully.

“With pleasure,” Bond agrees. Q goes red.

Mallory wonders if it’s too late to quit.

Thank you to our fantastic drabble writers for their last drabbles this week, and for four weeks of incredible competition! 

To our amazing readers, this is the last week to vote! You can help this competition by going here to vote on your top three drabbles. You may also leave anonymous feedback for one or more drabbles.

Who will be the Last Drabble Writer Standing? 

Let’s vote and find out! 

[ghost-town-story]

... The more I sit here and am allowed to think, the more pissed off and upset I get

Rant blog status reinstated!

So firstly, I’m not happy about getting kicked off campus. But social distancing shit, whatever I guess, whatcha gonna do. 

But no. My fucking mother takes the goddamned fucking cake rn. 

We got the email about being kicked off around 4 pm eastern time, Monday. My mother. This fucking woman. Calls me and insists I pack my stuff and get off campus by Tuesday morning. Packing is normally at least a few days ordeal, especially since I hate packing and it always stresses me out a bunch. But done in little spurts, okay I guess, more doable. 

But noooo I have to get out by Tuesday. Fucking. Morning. And this woman actually has the gall, the fucking gall to halfheartedly suggest I start out Monday evening since I’ve gone nocturnal. 

I tried to tell her there’s no fucking way, but she wouldn’t fucking listen. So she hangs up, and I go down the hall bc I desperately need a hug by this point, and she’s a sweetheart but the only roommate available is a gangly skinny girl and not the type of hugs I need. (really, boyfriend would be ideal, but at the time he was in Colorado visiting his sister). And I end up breaking down on huggin friend’s couch bc I hate packing, and I don’t feel like I can pack up a year’s worth of shit in about 12 hours. 

Mom eventually calls me again, mostly just to tell me “yeah you need to pack up and get back tonight, your roommate can grab the 1-2 bins remaining.” And she refuses to listen to me saying “hey, it’s a solid 2 loads in my car, it’s not gonna be 1-2 bins”  “But it fit all in your first car!” “My first car was a fuckin beast, literally the largest car in the lot freshman year. Fred is definitely shorter, definitely less trunk space, etc.”  “Well Y can get the last few bins.” “It’s a lot of stuff!” “It won’t be that much” JUST FUCKING LISTEN YOU PIECE OF SHIT FFS

I was so stressed and crying that huggin friend stole my phone when I was texting my boyfriend, and had him call me so I could maybe stop crying. I miss my boy. Hearing him was good tho.

I’m packing up my stuff in the bathroom when I remember. I store my empty bins at my brother’s place (2 hrs north). I double check with him and call my mom back “I can’t leave tomorrow. It’s too much to pack, and some of my bins are at Brother’s.”  Despite all this, despite me literally breaking down and crying on the phone, she refuses to listen, to give me an extra day, to bring half my stuff up to my brother’s (and therefore eliminate most of the need to have my roommate take my stuff) and grab my extra bins. Nope, gotta get out.

I was staring at my room, halfheartedly packing and trying to figure out, and just sobbing out loud. I thought remaining roommate was gone at dinner, otherwise I would have tried to be quiet. But she had gotten back without me noticing, and when she poked her head in, I couldn’t do it anymore and just kinda. Fell to the ground crying and apologizing. She’s a such a sweetheart and I feel bad for probably worrying her (and possibly waking her up in the middle of the night with packing noises)

I texted my roommate about this. She basically said, “Wtf, what she’s asking isn’t possible.”

Same thing from my boyfriend. 

My mom kept texting me, asking how things were going, basically ignoring my subtle requests for more fucking time. At one point she said “Hang in there”. I sent a screenshot of that to my roommate and boyfriend and asked, “Is murder acceptable?” Roommate said a solid yes. Boyfriend offered to let me live with him. (cept 2 hour parking and I already got one ticket from that :P)

Mom texted around 10 pm, asking if things were fitting in the car. I wasn’t even remotely to the point of packing the car. I was basically at break number 2 of mandatory “sit down, have something to eat, and rehydrate after crying so damn much”. I think I had one bin completely done (out of what ended up being like. 6 bins? plus assorted bags n stuff) and was mostly done packing my clothes, but like. slow going. Especially when packing is stressful and you keep getting overwhelmed woot woot

I put off a fair number of things bc of panicking about time and simple emotional capability to do so. Sorting out my dishes, unlofting my bed, grabbing my band shit from the music hall across campus.

At some point in the night, I had to lay down, because my body decided “hey, you know what would be great right now? Period cramps, minus the blood.” Which, thank fuck minus the blood, but also it meant I had to spend a solid half hour/hour out of commission bc it hurt so damn much to walk around and try to pack. But I had to keep going, even though the pain came back when I stood up again.  

Mom texted me at 7 am if I’m awake. I hadn’t slept. 

We have housekeepers, and they got there around when I was finishing loading up. I stopped and chatted for a bit (nobody had told them what was going on), and nearly started crying again because it was just so damn shitty. Everything’s so damn shitty. 

So I got on the road at about 8 am, and get to driving for a bit, but about 1.5 hours in I’m doing bad. I can barely keep focused, despite drinking probably half a bottle of Mt. Dew by this point, so I pull into a rest stop and text my mom “Hey, I forgot my shampoo/conditioner/toothbrush stuff, and also I don’t think I can get home safe.”

Does my mother tell me to take a nap in that rest stop? Nope Does she tell me to find a hotel or motel there and take a nap/sleep and try again tomorrow? Nope Does she tell me I can go back to school, sleep through the day, and try again tomorrow? Ha ha fucking ha.

Nope. She calls me, and proceeds to tell me to keep driving, and that she’s going to stay on the phone with me so I don’t fall asleep. 

I yelled at her quite a few times, when she was being fucking stupid about all this shit. She had the fucking gall to be pissed that I pulled an all nighter, when that’s what was fucking necessary to meet her stupid fucking deadline. 

At one point, I made a new driving playlist so hopefully it would keep me awake better while I wasn’t on the phone (being serenaded... awake? by the lovely voice of Tilian lel (lots of DGD and his solo work on that playlist. Also ATL. Fuck yeah ATL. anywho)). And right after I made that, she ended up calling me before I was driving yet, and I rejected it bc I really wanted to finish my text to the dear bf, and then I started driving, thinking she’d call me back and chew me out for ignoring her, but surprisingly nope. So I just jam out for a bit, and eventually start yelling at myself bc of dumb writing ideas (the original story rewrite... lol) and I end up texting my roommate (while driving... shh) “Hey, feel free to call me if you want to hear me ramble on about writing” So after a short phone call from mum where she hung up to let me drive through a city, roommate calls, and I end up spending the last few hours of my drive rambling at her and mutually bitching about the shitty situation this leaves us in. 

When I get home, my dad (a doctor) is wearing a mask, apparently at my mother’s request. He also mentions that we probably shouldn’t be in the same room, according to her. I am also forced to strip everything and shower basically immediately. K, fine, I do so, Dad makes me dinner (despite Mom’s probable disapproval), and I stay awake just long enough to toss my laundry in the dryer. It was a close thing tho. I nearly fell asleep waiting for the washer to finish. And so I pass out at 8 pm central time (9 pm eastern)

Mom, during all this, has fucked off Up North to our cabin, my final destination.

Wednesday, Mom makes me leave our place in the Cities at 11 am to get up before weather gets worse and all that jazz. Once here, I’m allowed freedom for as long as it takes to help mother move shit so I can fit my car inside a garage, then I take the bare minimum inside (my electronics, stuff that would explode if frozen (like pop (and my Smirnoff Ices shh)), travel toothbrush I somehow have and hairbrush), and I’m immediately quarantined to my room and the bathroom down the hall. 

So here I fucking am. Bored as shit and pissed the hell off

I needed more time. But no fucking way Mom was going to let that happen. 

I could have gone up to my brother’s. But noooo I had to come all the fucking way home, only to be shoved in a room for two weeks.

I could have taken care of all/most of my shit by my fucking self (dishes are debatable, would need basically the whole apartment to sort those out), but nope, can’t take enough time to take a trip up to my brother’s apartment 2 hours away, no way.

Nope, instead I have to suffer a panic attack for basically 16 hours, then nearly kill myself driving, because I can’t stay one fucking day more, because I have to get my ass up here just to be basically shoved in a room and left alone for 2 goddamned weeks. Nope. Can’t fucking make sure that moving out, usually stressful on its own, is as calm as we can make it in these trying times. Nope. Gotta just fucking nearly kill the kiddo instead to comply with my stupid whims because I can’t fucking listen

I’m pissed.

Especially since I was almost 100% sure I was gonna block her everywhere and go full no contact with this bitch after college.

But now I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future! Yay! Can’t see that going badly! 

(I’ve already texted the anonymemers to call me so I don’t go crazy and actually punch her. We’ll see how that goes. The desire has been kinda strong all afternoon.)

Fuck

This

Shit