#the laments that he isn’t a divorced lawyer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

illfoandillfie · 5 years

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A sequel to A12+A32 with Brian where maybe they didn’t actually break up and she stays with him even though he’s married and maybe he actually leaves his wife for her?

A12 + A32 Blurb

1000 Follower Celebration

~~~

After the fight Brian had left quickly, slamming the door behind him, tyres screeching as he took off, leaving you standing in the same spot you’d confronted him. You don’t know how long you stood there, trying to process everything. The rest of the day was spent in a daze. It was like so much had happened that you couldn’t take it all in, couldn’t feel anything. You wanted to cry or scream or throw things but didn’t have the energy. Everything was just numb as you went about your day. Until you were lying in bed that night and it all hit in a big rush. Your sleep was fitful and disjointed. An hour here, half an hour there, snatched between dreams of Brian and bouts of crying.

When you did push yourself out of bed you went straight for your phone, calling up your friend Jasmine. You’d spent countless nights with her, discussing your relationships, lamenting lost loves or celebrating newfound singledom. She knew all about Brian already, so if anyone was going to share your heartbreak at the revelation of his family, it would be her. She arrived within ten minutes, pulling you into a hug the moment she saw your puffy eyes. You told her everything – the ring, the wife, the kids. She got every detail of the fight you’d had, listening carefully, never interrupting. And then you told her the worst part of it. Worse than the insincere apology, or the way he’d spat his parting line before disappearing out the door. Worse than all of that was the fact that you still loved him, missed him, wanted him back.

“Maybe you’re being too harsh on him,” Jasmine suggested, “yes, what he did was shitty and he should have been more upfront about his situation but from the sound of things he isn’t happy at home. But he was happy with you. And you were happy with him.”

You were stunned, “So you think I should forgive him? He’s cheating on his wife, abandoning his kids. And he’s made me an accomplice to it all. And I should forgive him?”

“Not necessarily. I just think you should talk to him properly about it. The fight happened because you were both caught up in the emotion of it all. You were taken by surprise and you lashed out. I think you both probably said some things you didn’t mean. ANd he certainly didn’t get a chance to explain himself.”

“I guess,”

“Look just, I don’t know, meet him for coffee or something. Do it in public if you want. But you’re going to find it very hard to get closure or move on if you don’t know the full story. Give him a chance to explain, tell him why you feel so sick about it. Either he’ll have more to say or he won’t but however the conversation goes, you’ll know what you need to do.”

“I’ll think about it,”

You did think about it. Nearly constantly. You picked up the phone, got half way through dialling his number and then hung up more times than you could count. Part of you wanted to hear him out, see him again. But there was also the fear that he wouldn’t have anything else to say, that nothing would change how horrid you felt about the whole mess, that you were just setting yourself up for more heartbreak. The decision was made for you though a few days later when Brian called.

“Hi,” his voice sounded odd. A little strained, like he was making an effort to stay calm, “I know you don’t want to see me and I’m sorry for calling but I’ve left a few things at your place. Wanted to know if I could pick them up sometime,”

“Oh, umm,”

“I’m happy to come past when you aren’t home, if you just leave them outside the back door or something.”

“I can do that. Or...” your heart was hammering in your chest but you knew what you wanted, hearing his voice wasn’t enough, “maybe you could stay for a coffee?”

“Coffee? Are you sure?”

“Yes. I feel bad about how things ended and I don’t think I was very fare to you,”

“I deserved it. I shouldn’t have...”

“You shouldn’t have, no, but I’d still like to talk about it. If you’re okay with that?”

“Are you free this afternoon? I can come by around three,”

“Three works for me,”

“Okay, I’ll see you then,”

If you’d been nervous to call it was nothing to how nervous you felt waiting for him to arrive. The clock moved so slowly you were sure it was broken. Everything felt too still and quiet, the calm before a storm, the tapping of your nails against whatever surface was in easy reach the only break. His knock on the door startled you, making you freeze on the spot until he knocked a second time and you gathered yourself together enough to answer.

“Hi,” he said softly, a small, nervous smile playing on his lips when he saw you.

“Hi, come in,” you stood back from the door to let him past, “umm, d’you want tea or coffee?”

“Tea’s fine, thank you,”

With a nod you led him to the kitchen. He knew the way, knew where you kept the tea bags and cups, but he followed you as if he didn’t. Neither of you spoke again until the tea was set in front of you at the kitchen table. Your fingers began tapping against the table top again and you wished your hands were still busy with the tea.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Brian eventually asked.

“Why, Bri? Why’d you lie to me?”

“I should have told you sooner, I know. The thing was that when we started seeing each other I didn’t think it would last that long,”

“So you really thought I was gonna be a one-night stand?”

“Yeah I did. Maybe a few nights at most. I thought anything more than that would be too complicated with everything else. But then I just kept wanting to see you and...”

“And what?”

He frowned a little as he contemplated what to say, “I am not a brave man, Y/N. I’m a coward. I’ve been afraid of ending things for good with my wife. We should have called it quits years ago, before the kids, but she’s stubborn and I’m weak and I guess I wanted to believe things could be fixed. That maybe kids would help fix them. And then you came along and took me completely by surprise. After we’d been seeing each other for a couple of weeks I knew I should tell you about it all. But I was afraid that as soon as you knew you’d leave and I was too much of a coward to go through with it. So I decided to never tell you. I went home and talked to my wife and we came to a decision to break up but it was hard. There were the kids to think of, one not even born yet. There were assets to split, a house to sell, arrangements to make. Plus, the extra pressure from the press potentially getting a hold of the story. It was a lot and I was in the process of working everything out when you found my ring.”

“I don’t think it’s weak to want to fix things,” you said softly, holding your cup tight, “But you understand why I was so upset right?”

“I know, it was horrible what I did and I regret all of it, not being straight with you. I deserved a lot worse than what you gave me. You should’ve hit me or something.”

“Did you mean what you said about seeing a future with me?”

“I did. I know my life is a mess at the moment but being apart from you has been so hard. I guess I thought things would work out. The divorce would go through and then we could have moved in together and... but that’s not realistic is it?”

“I don’t know Brian. The day I found out I was completely crushed. I never wanted to see you again. I thought if I did it’d just end in more screaming and crying. But I’ve missed you so much. All I’ve thought about since you left was trying to find a solution for it all. I called Jas over to try and talk some sense into me and she told me to give you a chance to explain.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“Depends. What’s happening between you and your wife?”

“We had a meeting with our lawyers yesterday, going over the paperwork and stuff. We’ve had to make custody arrangements for when I can see the kids and the house hasn’t sold yet but it’s mostly finalised.”

“If, and it’s a big if, but if we did work things out, how would the custody arrangements work?”

“You wouldn’t have to be their step mum or anything. They’ll mostly be staying with their mum, at least until they’re a little older. But I’ll go round and visit them every week. I wouldn’t ask you to be involved with them at all.”

You nodded, “that makes sense. And there’s no other big earth shattering secrets you’re keeping? No secret family in another country?”

,”No, that’s it,” Brian looked at you, his eyes glued to your face like he ran the risk of losing you again just by blinking.

You sighed and reached your hand out to lay over his, “I really really missed you.”

#my writing #my blurbs #angst blurb #brian may x reader #1000 follower celebration #Anonymous

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wannabecatwriter · 5 years

Photo

- Don’t bother asking him, Officer. I’m sure he’s just as clueless as they were.

Renee juts herself into the conversation, majorly pissed off. The attorney seems confused to the events in the room, shooting a wary glance at his client.

- Don’t bother defending him, Kip. GeoTech isn’t Kip’s company. It’s Vincent’s. And I’m sure he unloaded that house on poor Kip here without even bothering to inform him that it might come with some extra baggage, didn’t he? You’ve planned all along to hide that art from me, didn’t you?

By now, Wayne confronts the baffled attorney.

- Did you know the house had a hidden basement where Mr. Ellington stored the goods?

Kip: Uhh… I’m afraid I can’t answer any of these questions, now, can I? I would rather not incriminate my client. Or myself, accidentally. But I will tell you, if I’d known the house had a basement, it would’ve cost more to buy it from my company.

Vince knows he’s been found out, by this point. Unfortunately for him, Renee isn’t done lamenting everything just yet.

- How convenient it must’ve been for you when we were “robbed” shortly before you served me the divorce papers, dear Vincent. And to think that you’ve almost gotten away with it.

Vincent: I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t want to resort to this. But I was so angry at you over all the fucking cheating! I didn’t want you taking the collection too.

Dale: I must remind you, Mr. Ellington, that everything you say can and will be used against you in court. And you are probably going to want a new lawyer.

Vincent: Yes, I know. I know.

#Sims3 #Home Sketchy Home #Renee Ellington #Vincent Ellington #Kip Benson #Dale Adams #Wayne Adams #Miles Vida #Sheree Merrill #Sims Stories

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jimlingss · 5 years

Text

Jungle Park [2]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

➜ Words: 6.4k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ Warnings: swearing

The stack of applications sits on the edge of his desk untouched. Hoseok’s been up to his neck in work, dealing with files that have accumulated and clients that come in screaming about the latest crazy thing their soon-to-be-ex spouse did. In all honesty, he completely forgot about hiring an HR person and he let himself forget since frankly, he couldn’t care less about the entire ordeal. That is...until his partner comes stomping into his office. “You haven’t hired anyone yet?!” “What?” Hoseok looks up from his computer. “Hire who?” “Oh my god. You one brain celled man!” Jimin laments dramatically before flopping down in the seat across from Hoseok’s own chair. He lugs his stack of paper onto his desk, dropping his briefcase and sighing tiredly. “I told you to hire someone for HR, remember?” “Oh, right, that,” he mutters from the corner of his mouth, closing the document he was working on and hopping to another. “Yes, that.” Jimin takes the stack of applications that are piled on top of the other folders and he flips through them. “You’re supposed to pick someone, remember? You even interviewed them.” “Uh-huh.” Hoseok turns several pages, eyes burning at the tiny black text and slivers of white between them. “Haven’t had the time to think about it. It’s not a priority.” “Well it should be.” Jimin purses his lips and skims the résumé from the top. “How about this person? Kwon Suwoong? Graduated in 2013 with a masters in psychology and he’s worked in an HR position before.” “I don’t like his personality,” Hoseok says from the corner of his mouth. “Seems flaky to me.” “Okay. What about this person? Park Jihyo. Straight out of university and looks like she has a ton of volunteer experiences.” The younger man nods with a hum. “She went abroad for a year building schools and houses.” “She’s too idealistic,” Hoseok notes. “Too energetic, too many ideas, gives me a headache.” Jimin sighs and files through the stack of applications, ignoring some as well. It seems like his partner has a complaint about every single person and it’s only until he lands on a specific one that seems to warrant no protests. “How about Y/N?” Hoseok looks up from his papers, away from his computer. Jimin’s lips are pouted as he reads your paper. “Solid education, a lot of odd previous jobs…..” His pupils flicker to the male across from him when he hears no whining. “What do you think?” “She’s….weird.” His brow lifts in curiosity. “What do you mean?” “I don’t know.” Hoseok doesn’t try to explain himself. “I feel like she’ll give me a headache too.” The corner of Jimin’s lips tug and he puts the stack down before settling into the seat. “Is there anyone who won’t give you a headache? If you can’t pick anyone, then I choose this person. Give her a call and let her know she got the job, alright?” “Ugh.” He leans back in his swivel chair, staring at the ceiling. “Can’t you call instead?” “Nope.” Jimin pops the last syllable with a massive grin, getting up and before he slips out the room, his head still pokes through the doorway. “You call. And also, make sure to train her, show her around and introduce her to everyone. We want to make our new HR manager feel welcome, don’t we?” The lawyer behind the desk pinches the bridge of his nose, already feeling the thumps at his temples, the onset sign of a new headache coming to welcome his day.

An entire week passed. You accepted reality — you just weren’t going to get the job. And you even went to the public library to print another stack of résumés to continue your job hunt. But when you get the phone call, the very same one you had been dreaming of, while you were walking to the sad strip mall, you quite literally screamed. Hoseok scowled, peeling the phone away from his ear, and you apologized profusely. The very next day, you went back to the firm with freshly ironed clothes. “Welcome to the team.” The handsome dark-haired male greets you at the front with a slight smile and nod. Your hands are shaking, but instead of nervousness, this time it’s from sheer excitement. He exhales and glances at his watch. “I’ll show you around and help you get settled.” “That would be great, thank you.” Immediately, he begins without a breath to spare. You try your best to keep up with his wide strides, quickening your steps as you trail after his shadow, heels already beginning to pinch your toes. “As you know we’re a divorce law firm that’s been running for four years,” he tells you as he makes his way down the hall and you nod, having done your research beforehand. “Jimin and I are partners. I am the primary litigator and I take care of running the logistics of the firm while Jimin is in charge of mediation which we get more cases for. So, you’ll probably see me go to court more often. The rest of this office is split between supporting either me or Jimin.” “O-okay.” You’re not used to such a fast pace and your mind is already swirling with information. Hoseok approaches the first set of cubicles on the floor. “This is our legal assistants which is the same thing as a paralegal, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Kang Seulgi, and….where’s Sebin?” A blonde man pushes his seat back so his face is seen past the high cubicle wall. He’s strikingly handsome, full cheeks and rounded eyes. “She went to go mail something for Jimin.” His pupils flicker up and down to you, a smile pulling on his pink plump lips. “And who is this?” “This is your new HR representative,” Hoseok introduces with an impassive tone. “Hello.” You bow your head and shake hands with the brunette male closer to you. He pushes his rounded spectacles up, dimples pressed cutely on both sides of his cheeks. “My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you.” The girl sitting across from him, hidden behind a giant stack of boxes moves until you see her. “Jin, can you not be greasy towards the new girl? It’s kind of really disgusting.” She turns towards you with her arm extended. Her monolid eyes are cat-like, but they crinkle cutely when you shake her hand. “I’m Seulgi, nice to meet you. Trust me, you’ll want to steer clear of all the men here.” “Hey! What did I ever do?!” The blonde whines in a higher pitch tone. “I literally just said hi!” “Yeah, but you were all like ‘who is this’?” She mimics his tone, dropping a pitch, extending the syllables and sounding purposely sleazy. You have to hold back a laugh, put more at ease when they’re bickering back and forth like this. “I did not sound like that!” Jin defends himself. Namjoon sighs and puts down his glasses. “Can we not start this? It’s not even ten o’clock yet.” But your nervousness isn’t completely dispelled, not when Hoseok is already beginning to nudge you in a different direction. “Alright, alright. Get back to work before we fire you. You can do more in-depth meet and greet later. Namjoon, the draft to opposing counsel should be on my desk in the next half-hour.” You can barely bid goodbye before you’re led to the next cubicle, weaving between high stacks of boxes of files and papers. Hoseok gestures towards three different people. “This is our accountants, Hyuk and Inyoung. And Jungkook here is our articling student. He’s a lawyer in training and should officially join the team in a few months.” They’re a more shy bunch than the legal assistants. The dark-haired boy seems the youngest of the entire group, giving you a slight nod and smile. His doe eyes are big, almost reminding you of a deer in headlights. On the other hand, the woman sitting across from him in the cubicle set tucks her light hair behind her ear, greeting you happily and the man beside her seems to stare at you for an extra long time, his eyes flickering up and down your frame that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable. Hoseok doesn’t pay any attention to the little introductions and then he continues to parade you around, pointing to the kitchen and the bathroom and a few of the offices. He walks down the hall and then lets out a loud ‘ahem’ when he notices the crowd at the water cooler. He crosses his arms and makes himself known. “Is there not any work to do?” “Oh come on, Hoseok.” An older lady turns around, wrinkles around her face creased when she grins at him. She brushes a loose curl from her updo away from her face, blazer hugging her curves, red-stained lips curling at the sight of you. “We’re just curious about the new hire. And this must be her?” “I’m Y/N.” You smile at the four of them. “Nice to meet you.” “Thank god, you’re here.” A younger girl approaches you, abandoning her cup of water on top of the cooler, and she grasps your hands while her eyes glimmer. “We need you here so badly.” “Let her breathe, Sunyi.” A short man with black hair narrows his eyes onto you before they soften in curiosity. His cheeks puff out, lips naturally pouted. “You’re too goddamn suffocating.” “Okay, fuck you, Yoongi.” She spins around on her heel, cussing him out. “Hey!” The man standing next to Yoongi with caramel hair takes a few steps closer to you. “That’s no way to speak in front of such a gorgeous lady. You’re so uncultured.” His boxy grin appears as he suavely shakes your hand, making you lose your breath. “I’m Kim Taehyung, it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you.” “Ew.” Sunyi shoves him out of the way, bumping shoulders with the man. “You’re worse than Jin is. I’m Lee Sunyi, slave of Hoseok and Jimin. Also known as one of the lawyers here.” “You’re so dramatic.” The person lingering behind her rolls her eyes. “I’m Min Yoongi. Lawyer. We’re all lawyers here. Nice to meet you.” The other woman introduces herself as Kye Naul. The group seems to take interest in you, about to ask where you’re from or what you’ll be doing here, but Hoseok takes a glance at his watch, sighs, and pushes them out of the way. “Okay, get back to work. We have business to attend to. You can ask what you want later.” “You should loosen up,” Taehyung notes before dashing off. “I’ll loosen up when we get work done,” he grumbles back to the other. Naul saunters off, Taehyung tosses a wink and Sunyi a sweet smile. Hoseok continues to walk down the hall and your mind is dizzy with names and introductions, not sure you can remember it all. It’s overwhelming to say the least and doesn’t help when your boss continues— “Including Jimin and I, there are fifteen people here in total. Two receptionists, four legal assistants, five lawyers counting Jungkook, and two accountants. Jimin’s out right now but you can meet him later. He’ll probably swing by.” Hoseok pushes open the last door in the corner of where the two halls meet and you’re met with a tiny room. There’s one small window at the back covered by broken blinds, one cramped desk and one metal drawer unit. The door itself is slim and the walls are gray, space minuscule, making it seem like a… “This was originally a storage closet,” the lawyer states. “We emptied it out for you. It’s your office now.” “Oh..okay…” You nod, taking it all in even when there’s not much to take in. It’s a bit disheartening to know you’ll be operating in a place that used to be a closet, but the more you look at it, the more you consider it’s not too terrible. You’ve worked in worse conditions. Hoseok glances at his watch. “I should go now.” “Um-” You quickly turn around, catching his attention. When he stares at you intensely, you feel yourself grow small, muttering out the words, “Is there something you’d like me to do?” “Something to do?” He frowns and his lips part as if searching for an answer. “Get yourself settled in first.” “Alright.” You nod, mouth pulling into a smile. “Thank y—” “No problem,” Hoseok says before you can interrupt and he’s off like he has better places to be. You’re left standing in the small space, staring at his backside until it gets smaller. Then you turn towards your closet office, exhaling tiredly and wondering where to even begin. // When left to your own devices, the first thing you do is clean. You manage to find a few rags under the kitchen sink and you go to town. Every surface is scrubbed with cleaning solution or water. You get rid of the grime in all the closet corners, cleaning the cobwebs that accumulate near the ceiling, bidding farewell to dust bunnies. With the strength you’ve accumulated from going to the gym once every year, you pull the wooden desk and all its wires to the corner so it faces the open door. You also tug the cabinet beside it, creating an open space for others to enter. Once you sit down in the swivel chair, turning on the computer you were given, you realize there’s nothing for you to do. You lean back, deciding to rest a bit, pondering how your clothes became this wrinkly and how you’re going to salvage your sweaty face. But then you realize how awfully plain this room is. There are grey walls. And it’s empty. You’re not sure if you’re just free to leave or if you’ll get deducted pay. Taking a peek around, you find Jimin’s office empty and Hoseok’s door is shut tight, a visible sign that he shouldn’t be disturbed. Debating if you need to ask for permission, you end up deciding to just fuck it. During lunch, you slip out of the office, walking down the street to a few shopping centers. By the end of the day, you have a new teal rug, light yellow curtains on the windows, a high school poster of encouragement stuck on the wall along with a vibrant calendar, picture frames on your desk that are yet to be filled, and a cute plant on the corner of your desk. More importantly, you place a welcome sign on the door and under it lays a welcome mat. Your pocket hurts, but one look around tells you it’s all worth it. This will become your second home after all. // The atmosphere of the office is tense. By the time everyone’s arrived, the sound of working fills the area — photocopier whirring, coffee machine running nonstop, phones ringing, the sound of keys typing echoing off the walls, papers being flipped, one or two murmurs spoken before it’s silenced down. No one seems to notice your presence at all. You could slip out all day if you wanted to, like yesterday, but you have a job to do. And you’re going to make sure you do it goddamn well. “Is that….cookies?” Seokjin stops in his tracks and pops his head through your door, his nose sniffing the air. His eyes immediately land on the two plates on your desk and how they’re still steaming. “Yeah, I woke up early this morning and had some time, so I did some baking…” Jin nods and clears his throat. “Uh, is it okay if I, um, have one?’” “Yes! Of course!” You gesture towards your bait. “Feel free! I made them for people to enjoy!” Exactly according to plan, he nods with a smile and enters your office to take a cookie. He bites and then his eyes light up. “Wow, this is really, really good. Can I have one more?” “Sure.” You smile. “I wouldn’t know what to do with the leftovers anyways. Feel free to sit down.” The blonde man innocently plops down in the seat across from you and he swallows a mouthful as you watch him attentively, hands folded underneath your chin. “Is everything going okay?” “Yeah, not bad,” he says. “It is always this busy?” You casually ask with a smile, still amazed with the amount of productivity around here, despite the tense atmosphere. “Yeah.” Jin laughs. “We can be swamped up to our chins in work. Sometimes, I even forget to have lunch, it gets so bad.” Your brows raise and there’s a note of surprise in your voice. “Really?” He pauses from taking another bite. “Wait. I’m not going to get in trouble, right?” “What do you mean?” Jin leans closer to you from across the desk, dropping down to a whisper as his pupils flicker outside for a moment. “I mean, I think you’re really nice, Y/N. I also think it’s awesome that you’re here and a part of our team. But there are...some people who don’t like gossip or anyone talking badly about the office.” Your expression washes over until it’s indignant. “You mean Hoseok?” That would also explain why everyone around here seems to be wary of you. The receptionists were whispering in the kitchen when you went to get coffee and you hadn’t gotten any visitors yesterday or this morning until you pulled out the cookies. You wonder if people are afraid of Hoseok or just respect him too much….probably a mix of both. Seokjin puts his palms up and gives a small, squeaky giggle. “You said it, not me.” “You won’t get into any trouble,” you reassure him with the utmost confidence. “Everything you say to me is confidential….unless you have plans to do something illegal.” “I don't.” He grins at your smile and then adds, “not yet.” “Good.” You laugh, easing the person across from you. “My door is always open and you can talk to me about anything you’d like, any problem you might have with the office or anyone in it. Any issue you have, I’ll make sure it becomes addressed. It’s what I’m being paid for after all.” Jin quirks his head to one side, hand slipping on top of your desk towards another chocolate chip cookie as if you wouldn’t notice his sly movements. “Thanks, Y/N. I really appreciate that. It’s nice to know someone has our backs.” “You’re welcome.” It’s taking a bit of time for you to become adjusted to your job and truly understand the dynamics of this place. But it’s not long before you receive another knock and there’s someone else at your doorway. “Hey…” Another legal assistant makes her way inside your office with a bit of hesitancy. You remember her from her unique and pretty eyes, Seulgi. She’s fairly cute as well, her skirt and blouse ensemble matching, and her brunette hair slightly waved. “I heard your door was open?” “It is.” You switch off the monitor of your computer to give your full attention to your new guest. “Welcome!” “Oh my god, I love what you did with the place.” She notices a snow globe on top of the cabinet that you had taken from home. The girl ogles at the posters and calendars, observing the difference in curtains as well and how it lets in a lot more sunlight. “It’s cute, looks a lot better than how it used to. Doesn’t even look like a storage closet anymore.” “Thanks. Had to spend a fortune, but I think it was worth it. I also nabbed a lot of things on sale, like I replenished my washi tape supply.” You tug open your drawer, dumping it a handful on your desk. Seulgi gasps and falls into the seat across from you. “These are so adorable!” She holds up a pink lace washi tape and you mentally cheer for noticing her cute stationary when you were introduced to her yesterday. “I can never find cheap good ones like these. Where did you get them?” “The store down the avenue.” You smile at her enthusiasm. “You want to have them?” “What? Are you sure?” Seulgi stares at you with giant eyes and you tell her to go ahead since it’s not like you have much use for them. She murmurs something about only taking five of them and begins to go through the pile, abandoning a stack of files on the other chair as she chooses. “Is there anything that you’d like me to do for you?” you ask her as she’s preoccupied. “Any way you’d like me to improve the office?” The female hums and sits straight, her thin lips pressing together. She seems to consider if she should open up to you or not, but then she looks at your earnest expression and the washi tape, and decides why not. “Well, sometimes Hoseok can be…..I don’t know. He’s a great boss and all and good at his job, but there are times he makes us stay late and doesn’t tell us until an hour beforehand.” “Oh, I see…” “And there are times he calls us on the weekend and I get that it’s a tough job and he needs help, but it’s the weekend.” She rolls her eyes and doesn’t even bother to keep quiet as her blood begins to boil. “He just tells us we should get there in an hour! So I have to drop everything and go and he doesn’t even say ‘thank you’ when it’s done! My god!” It’s progress. If no one will give you work, you’ll find work. More people come through your office, sitting down, chatting, getting to know you and you getting to know who they are. Lots of people are apprehensive, not sure if they can trust you. But you ease them and have a fun time learning who they are. And then there are some people who don’t require any coaxings at all. “Y/N?” Another woman you recognize as Sunyi knocks on your door. She’s in her coat, handbag slung on her shoulder and other arm holding onto a thick file folder. “Do you have a second?” “Yes, of course,” you give a warm welcome to your new visitor. The lawyer sighs and heaves her folder on your desk, falling into the chair across from yours lifelessly. “I thought I’d stop by before going to lunch. Oh, cookies, nice!” She grabs one and chews thoughtfully before sending an approving look. Little do people know, you just used premade cookie batter. Your hands fold on top of the smooth surface of your desk. “What can I do for you?” “A lot,” she laughs genuinely. “I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. This is probably the best decision Jung and Park have ever made.” You laugh as well, nodding. “Well, feel free. I have a lot of time on my hands right now.” “Where to start, where to start,” she mutters underneath her breath before sighing, putting down the rest of her cookie and dusting off her hands. “Okay, if it’s possible, I’d like to file an official complaint about Min Yoongi. He’s a prick. He chews really loudly when others are trying to work. Like, he brings in carrots with dip and potato chips into meetings and it’s highly distracting. Also, there are problems with his hygiene. The man doesn’t shower and thinks axe body spray is enough to cover his stench! News flash — this isn’t high school! He smells like a bag of rotten eggs left in the sun.” You don’t have any complaint forms yet, so you grab sticky notes, frantically writing down her complaints which are endless. She grieves on and on about Yoongi’s working habits, eating habits, breathing habits. And as amused as you become listening to her stories, you find she is more relaxed as she continues her rant. “Oh and Hoseok.” Sunyi slumps over your desk, groaning into her palms. “Can he please stop calling me one minute before five o’clock? It’s time for me to leave, but he always drags me in for another long ass meeting and I don’t get to leave until six. He’s so goddamn uptight.” “I know right,” you agree with a laugh. “I think he makes everyone anxious around here.” “Right?!” She snaps her fingers, lighting up when the words come out of your mouth. “Finally, someone understands me!” Even if Hoseok doesn’t give you the warmest welcome, everyone else does. By the time lunchtime is over, there are people entering your office, requesting your help with their problems. You don’t even get a chance to sit down or breathe. But you really wouldn’t have it any other way. You thrive on face-to-face interaction with others, of hearing their stories and listening to what they have to say. It’s not only interesting, but you like to help and feel needed. “It’s not even the second day yet.” There’s a grumble from a tall dark-haired male. He sips on his coffee, eyes pierced past the white rim and glaring into your office from down the hall. From where he stands, in front of his own office, he can catch the corner of your room, mainly where your desk and computer is. “People are already wasting their time gossiping.” “Lighten up, Hope.” Jimin pats his friend’s back, utilizing the old nickname with a squeaky giggle and cheeky smile, eyes crinkled into half moons. “Why so serious? Where did the hyper ball of sunshine go?” “This is a professional setting,” Hoseok reminds his partner. “I’m just trying to do my job and the others should too.” “It’s not like you’re getting any work done either.” The shorter man slips away, shooting a tiny wink. “Maybe you should go over there and talk to her instead of staring all day.” If possible, Hoseok’s frown becomes deeper. Right as you get a chance to collect yourself and organize all the sticky notes you have, there’s yet another knock on your door. You whip your head up, but it’s one of the last people you were expecting. Immediately, you rise to your feet, chair shifting back, hands gripping the hem of your blazer. “Good afternoon, Mr. Park.” “Oh please, sit.” He gestures and takes a seat across from you as well, throwing one leg over the other. Though you’ve yet to officially meet your other boss, in passing and through pictures, he always seems to be the kinder one of the two. Even now, the man had a warm smile and cute eyes directed towards you, running a hand through the brown mess of hair. “And call me Jimin. It sounds too formal to call me by my last name. Same thing with Hoseok. Mr. Jung is his dad, not him. If he tells you to call him that, then tattle to me and I’ll make sure to punch him.” “Okay.” You nod, feeling calm from his soft-spoken words and returning his smile. “How are you settling down?” His hands are clasped and Jimin takes one sweep of your office with his eyes. “I love what you did with the place. It’s cozy. Nothing’s been too hard, right?” “No.” You shake your head. “Honestly, everything’s been great. I like everyone here, just getting used to things a bit more.” The lawyer hums and then takes a peek outside, finding that his partner has disappeared. “Did Hoseok help you with introductions and orientation?” “Yeah, well...umm..” You twiddle with your fingers. “He did, but I was wondering if there was something specific that you’d like me to do? If...there are official conflict forms you’d like me to fill out or if there are any binders I should have on office safety.” His brows raise. “Did he give you none of that?” “No, not really.” You give a sheepish smile, momentarily looking at your stack of sticky notes that have a bunch of scribbles on them. All Hoseok did was briefly pass names around and then he threw you in this closet with an old computer. “Well, ask him again.” Jimin nods. “Hoseok acts as our office manager as well, so if there are forms you need, he’ll have them or can find some and help you print it out. It’s actually great that you’re here since you can help him out. Aside from that, I know you’ll be doing a lot of conflict resolution — it’s one of the main reasons why we hired you, since there’s so much conflict in this office. Any other specifics about your job, ask Hoseok.” “Alright.” “To be frank.” Jimin leans in closer with a mischievous smile. “You’re my white knight.” The corner of your mouth tugs. “What do you mean?” “You’re saving me,” your supposed boss tells you and in this moment, he feels more like a friend sharing a secret than anything. “You’re doing the job I don’t want to do. I got tired of handling problems around here, so I made Hoseok hire someone.” “Well I’m glad to save the day then.” You laugh before hesitating on the next thing you want to admit as well. “But….” “What?” You lean in closer, exchanging your own whispers. “Hoseok doesn’t like me, right?” The man across from you leans back in his chair in giggles, laughing and covering his mouth with the palm of his hand. “Why would you think that?” “I can just tell.” Your shoulders shrug. “He keeps glaring at me.” Jimin grins. “He’ll warm up to you.” You smile sheepishly. “Probably.” // With what Jimin said in mind, you scrape up enough courage to finally stand up and knock on the door down the hall. It’s nerve wracking and simply rapping your knuckles on the wooden surface has all cells in your body screaming. It would be best if you were to stay far, far away from Hoseok. He not only intimidates the hell out of you, but makes you nervous beyond belief. Still, you grow some balls and go for it. “Who is it?” You crack open the door, pushing your nose and one eye through the sliver. Hoseok is at his desk, a swamp of boxes and papers and files surrounding him. He’s tapping on the keys of his computer and scribbling something on a notepad at the same time. Never once does he look at you. “Um, is now a good time?” “It’s never a good time,” he says with a sigh. “What do you need?” “I just..uh...wanted to ask a few things.” You slide into the room quietly, watching how he’s hard at work. His hair is in a disarray, tie loosened, black blazer abandoned at the back of his chair, white dress shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. You feel pride blooming in your chest, for someone you once knew who became so successful. Oddly enough, you feel proud of him. “What is it?” Hoseok breaks you out of your trance and you clear your throat. “Um, I think I’m missing a few forms and a few binders…? Also, I was wondering if I could get my nameplate. It’s obviously not important, but I thought I’d just ask.” Your voice trails off until it becomes quiet and you cringe at how you always lose your composure in front of him. “And I wanted to know if you have any specific tasks for me.” “Ask the legal assistants and they can help you find whatever forms you want. There aren’t any binders since we’ve never had an HR department before, but there might be something from when this place opened up. Check the cabinet drawers at accounting. Tell reception to order a nameplate for you and…” Hoseok finally lifts his chin and he frowns, thinking hard. “Why don’t you write a staff handbook?” It’s as if you’re a child and he’s making up things for you to do, so you can just leave him alone. “A staff handbook?” “Yes,” he says and it’s like he’s talking to himself. Hoseok nods a few times. “We don’t have anything for our employees and new ones like you. It would be nice to have something that states our firm’s policies, mission statements, our culture and procedures.” “Uh…” You wonder how you’re going to write something like that when you have no idea what this firm stands for. But you decide to not say anything in case you upset him. All you manage is an— “okay…” “Alright. Sounds good.” He returns back to his work, expecting you to waltz out here, satisfied. Except, you linger. He feels his headache worsen, but pretends not to see you. Maybe if he concentrates hard enough, you’ll just vanish into thin air and leave him in peace. But of course, that would be irrational. “Uh…” You take a step closer to his desk, hesitating, but never once backing down. “One more thing.” “What.” “I would like to conduct a survey.” There’s a pause and you decide to spit the rest out while you have a chance. “I just would really like to know what everyone’s thoughts are. It would be a simple survey, asking how they feel about their safety and their comfort levels and the environment. I could see what improvements or adjustments to make. It would just help and could benefit all parties involved. It would only take five minutes tops. It’s really quick…..…..please?” If looks could kill, Jung Hoseok would have you buried six feet under by five o’clock today. // Everyone is actually delighted. Instead of getting started on work that’ll last for the next eight hours, the first thing they get to do this morning is join you in the conference room. It’s your first real meeting, thirteen people gathered around the table and staring at you. But you reassure yourself and begin handing out the surveys and the pencils, letting everyone know to take their time and that every submission will be confidential. They’re pretty happy to sip on their morning brew and write smack about each other, on the firm, and on Hoseok for you to read. “We’re losing control,” said man mutters from the corner of his mouth towards his partner. His arms are crossed and eyes are narrowed past the glass of the conference room, glaring at each person who has a smile on their face. “You’re too dramatic.” Jimin laughs and takes a drink of his coffee. “We’re not losing control. You’re just learning to micromanage less. Plus, doesn’t this shake things up a bit? It’s fun and different. Maybe I should fill a survey out too.” “You’re the boss of this place too, idiot.” The corner of Hoseok’s lips tug, unable to help his tiny smile that breaks the serious exterior. The shorter man only smacks his lips several times, savouring the bitter taste on his tongue and feeling more awake as time ticks by. “Well, I obviously don’t wear the pants of this place.” “These pants are being set on fire...” Hoseok nudges his chin over to where you’re standing in front of the room, helping Namjoon who’s probably clarifying one of the questions. “...by that HR girl.” “Her name is Y/N,” Jimin chides with a mischievous smile. Hoseok sighs. // When you see the results of the survey, you sigh as well….several times...enough for your lungs to probably burst. “What’s going on?” If the productivity of the firm was measured, this would’ve hit an all time low. Everybody was currently gathered outside of Hoseok’s office, unable to take a peek in when the blinds are drawn. There seems to be bickering and yelling seeping from the crack of the door and even Jimin is standing next to Yoongi, an amused smile on his face while the rest are either snickering, shocked or entertained. The sound of work ceases to exist. “Y/N is arguing with Hoseok,” Naul tells Seulgi with a few cackles of her own. “That girl got steel balls on her.” “Oh my god.” Seulgi presses her ear to the wall. “No way…” Inside, you’re absolutely exasperated and Hoseok is ready to hurl you out the window. “These are terrible results!” You can’t believe it and the absurdness of it all is making you hysterical. “Where are the safety requirements of this office? Does it even exist? And you know you can’t overwork these people! There are no vacation times and their pay is low!” “Low?!” He scoffs and knocks back his head. “If you think it’s low then what I make is low too! If someone has a problem with their pay, then they should directly come talk to me and we’ll deal with it!” “Obviously everyone feels too threatened to come and talk to you!” “We run a business, not a charity.” He gets up, hands on his hips and he turns towards the city view windows before spinning back on his heel to face you. It’s not like him to lose composure like this and he’s not sure how you can get under his skin so easily. “I knew this was a bad idea. I knew it. They’re using this as leverage to complain and whine and not do any work.” “These are legitimate concerns.” You slap the results of the survey on his desk, refusing to waver or become intimidated. “If you care about these people, then you’d care about this too. I’m just trying to do my job.” “And I’m trying to do mine!” “But you listen to no one but yourself.” “I can’t do this anymore.” Hoseok shakes his head and shouts for his partner’s help— “Jimin!” “Fine.” You throw your hands up. “If you want to be this way, let’s talk with someone who’s more rational. Jimin!”

The screams of Jimin’s name and oncoming steps makes said man run in the opposite direction. Jimin sprints down the hall, darting past cubicles and offices, sliding right through the elevators doors that were beginning to close. Gone.

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfic #hoseok scenario #OC as an HR manager who just wants to do well #Hoseok a lawyer who just wants some fUCkInG pEaCE and quIET!!! LORD IS IT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?!?!?!?!#the ball is beginning to just roll....

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exbacktips19-blog · 5 years

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Ex Factor Guide Program Pdf Zip

The Ex Factor Guide is definitely an on the web guide to getting your ex back. The moment you really obtain the program, you get on the web access, allowing you actually to start placing almost everything into activity right out so a lot less days among you and your family as well as your ex is invested away from each other. Instances of locations that are very properly-better recognized for their faith based value are jerusalem in israel, mecca and medina in saudi arabia, etc. But, at the incredibly exact same days, consumer practice has turned into a thing”, a term numerous people utilize for many various motives. If you and your family attempt, you actually may at the same time stay home - he structures the matter to structure you. Tire structure and also put on interestingly has a lesser function in. The wonderful versions helped, but the way he used the compressed point of view and also superficial range-of-discipline had a small effect of secret. If you are uncertain of the elevation in the level of the ft ., for his the ex factor guide login assurance in just about any situation come about.

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split up tips for individuals

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ju-gga-le-blog · 5 years

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5 budgetary tips for men getting a separation

In TV shows and motion pictures, the normal separation account is to depict ladies as commended exploited people. In the interim, men are delineated as quiet sufferers who feel disdain, outrage, dejection and dread over waiting money related issues, relationship disturbance and stresses over separating their families.

Off camera, in all actuality men don't generally have the devices — or the help — to manage these genuine concerns.

"Separation is troublesome for everybody included, except it tends to be particularly trying for men who don't normally express their emotions," says David Blaylock, a LearnVest Planning Services ensured money related planner™. "They need to keep their separations private — and that is not a decent strategy. You need an emotionally supportive network set up, much the same as some other real life change." DivorceGo

Indeed, the familiar proverb is valid: Time recuperates all injuries. Be that as it may, solid counsel helps as well. The more men think about what's in store when they're dissolving their relational unions, the simpler the procedure can be. So we counseled Bari Zell Weinberger, a marital lawyer at Weinberger Law Group, just as Blaylock, for the key customs of what men need to think about the money related side of separation.

1. Do know the numbers

For a normal separation, Weinberger says you ought to hope to pay about no under $20,000, which incorporates legal counselors and specialists, land expenses to divvy up shared conjugal property, finding a second place for you to live, just as budgetary guidance and treatment for you or your youngsters.

All things considered, the expense of a separation can in any case shift — and generally.

For example, says Weinberger, the cost can increment exponentially if your separation requires specialty specialists, similar to a criminological bookkeeper or a co-child rearing advocate. Other expensive situations: You have to get your business assessed (your ex is qualified for impartial appropriation on the off chance that you propelled the business amid the marriage, and regardless of whether you began your business before you were hitched, a life partner might be qualified for part of the expansion in the business' esteem), you have high total assets and need a best-advantage assessment or you're confronting a fervently challenged guardianship fight with your prospective ex. These circumstances could knock the cost of your separation up to the $50,000 to $100,000 territory, and at times significantly more, Weinberger gauges.

In any case, includes Weinberger, if a man goes to her office with a direct separation — where every one of the terms have just been chosen, and correspondence is open between the accomplices — at that point the expense could be as low as $3,500. Truth be told, in the event that you have an especially basic circumstance, with no minor youngsters or surprising money related conditions, a separation can run under $500, with recording expenses, Blaylock includes.

As indicated by Weinberger, one other significant component that men — and ladies — who are guardians should consider in the event that they're involved in extraordinary case: The more cash you spend on your separation, the less cash you need to give your children. "You're taking your youngsters' [college] instruction reserve funds," she says, "and you're kissing one semester farewell."

2. Try not to be too glad to even think about paying provision…

Divorce settlement offers fiscal help to the mate who was upheld monetarily amid the marriage — particularly on the off chance that one parent left the workforce to concentrate on the family for a significant lot of time. Life partners for the most part give divorce settlement in one of three distinctive routes, contingent upon state laws: As a singular amount, in normal installments, or in another foreordained course of action — state, in the event that you slice a check to an outsider to pay an ex's home loan. (It's additionally critical to take note of that divorce settlement is discrete from youngster bolster.)

Be that as it may, the effect of divorce settlement isn't simply money related — there's likewise a mental part. Men may feel that a previous mate doesn't have the right to get "free" pay dependent on their diligent work. Weinberger takes note of that a large number of her customers are impervious to paying on the grounds that nobody — man or lady — needs to need to work out a check to an ex.

Weinberger's recommendation? "While nobody needs to pay divorce settlement, on the off chance that we're working out a worldwide bundle, it could bode well from an assessment point of view," she clarifies, including that support is impose deductible. (Simply make certain to document a different assessment form utilizing a 1040 shape.)

3. … And don't be too pleased to even think about collecting divorce settlement

On the off chance that a lady is making more than her companion or if the dad is a stay-at-home parent while the mother works, at that point the ex could be qualified for get divorce settlement. As per the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers, 56 percent of separation legal advisors have seen an expansion in moms paying kid bolster, and 47 percent have seen more ladies paying divorce settlement, too.

In any case, being a divorce settlement beneficiary can once in a while achieve sentiments of weakness, notes Weinberger. "I have men who state, 'How is the network going to take a gander at me?'" she says. "I disclose to them that they're entitled. On the off chance that they're a stay-at-home father or there is an expansive error in salary, they ought to get it."

4. Do make a post-separate from life spending plan

At the point when a man experiencing a separation comes to David for money related arranging counsel, he sits him down to talk coordinations. "We attempt to make a financial plan for his new life," Blaylock says. As per Blaylock, men ordinarily consider the cash that they'll need to pay forthright for separation related costs — the real separation, youngster bolster, divorce settlement — however overlook that regular costs will change once they're recently single.

For instance, on the off chance that you have joint authority, you'll require things like garments and toys so your children can live easily in your home. Some co-child rearing specialists state that numerous children who split the week among mothers and fathers really like to have the majority of the things they require at each house, so they don't lose anything in the exchange.

5. Do isolate things similarly

A half-half split is simpler said than done — in light of the fact that you're getting separated doesn't imply that you won't in any case feel enormous connection to your ex. Along these lines, says Blaylock, numerous men (and ladies) surrender to unbalanced understandings — and this is frequently the situation with men who are accustomed to dealing with a life partner fiscally.

"A great deal of men need to proceed with that job, despite the fact that they never again have that commitment," says Blaylock. "I simply had a closest companion experience this issue. He gave her beginning and end, a lot to his monetary weakness." Dividing your property — furniture, work of art, outdoors outfit, music hardware — ought to be done in a way so you don't finish up with feelings of disdain or laments. It's O.K. not to give your ex a chance to have everything. For more in-depth information about Divorce Lawyer. I highly recommend this website Separation Agreement Lawyer in Toronto Ontario - Divorce Go..

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geniusorinsanity · 7 years

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i would like to her ur nursey family feels pls!! (i have plenty of my own & made a post but i need All the nursey content)

ahaha YOU JUST OPENED THE FLOODGATES BUDDY

Okay, so,Nursey’s birth parents:

Amal Hassan Nurse

born in Morocco, but spent the first ten years of herlife moving all around northern Africa and the Middle East because her fatherworked as a security consultant and would spend a few years in various placesdesigning systems for different companies

speaks both dialects of Arabic fluently, but willalways prefer Moroccan, because it sounds like home to her

moved to the States when she was thirteen and her dadgot a permanent job working for a security firm in Manhattan. Grew up in theprivate school system and never left

has a BA from NYU and a JD/PhD from Columbia. Is asenior partner in an NYC firm specializing in foreign and comparative law.smarter than all of us.

Elijah Nurse

grew up in Washington, DC. As a child, was 100%convinced that his father was a spy, because he traveled all the time and nevertold him what he did.

his mother is Haitian and from a very strict family inPort au Prince. Was not a fan of Nonsense and this had a pretty significantimpact on how Elijah related to other kids

Raised speaking English and French, but never spokeFrench outside the house because he associated it with his mother scolding himor his siblings

Got his BA in economics from Georgetown and then wentto do his MBA at Columbia, which is where he met Amal

This marriage was Not a Good Idea

Very tried and true case of people who are physicallycompatible but VERY NOT COMPATIBLE IN MOST OTHER WAYS

Amal is emotive and a little scatterbrained, Elijah isstrict about routine and doesn’t communicate feelings well

Not a Good Combination

They got married anyway to piss off their parents

Don’t do that, kids.

They got divorced two years after Derek was born. Itwas not friendly.

They agreed on split custody of the kids, Derek and hisolder sister Farah (more on Farah, Love of My Life, later).

About two years after the divorce, Amal reconnects witha friend from college, Gabriela Torres.

“Reconnects” = They literally crash into each other inthe subway #thatNYClife

promptly has the following thought process:

“Was she always this hot?”

“Was I always this gay?”

“This explains SO MUCH.”

they get married a year later.

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT NURSEY’S STEP MAMA GABRIELA

first generation Chilean American. Both her parentswere artists who moved to go to school in California.

she’s a ~San Francisco child~ in that she is: veryqueer, unfazed by a lot of strange things happening around her, and fucking hates the cold.

her parents are a strange blend of Liberal Artist andOverprotective Catholic, in that they want her to follow her dreams but willalso guilt the fuck out her if she misses mass and/or isn’t home for Christmas.

It’s not a total surprise to them that she decides tomove to New York for college but they still guilt the fuck out of her for it.

Everyone cries, but they get over it.

goes NYU all the way through her degrees: BA in ArtHistory, PhD in Fine Arts.

Her dream is to be a full-time painter, but she isRealistic and knows that shit is not how it works.

Gets scooped up by the curator of the gallery where she’sdoing one of her internships.

Works her way up to co-director of the gallery because#womensupportingwomen, and has her own studio on the side

Elijah also remarries, about two years after thedivorce, to a pediatrician living out in Westchester. They have two more kidsin pretty quick succession, and both Nursey and Farah try to ignore how muchmore their dad seems to be around for those kids when they’re little than heever was for them.

It doesn’t really work.

They’ve got some baggage about this.

SPEAKING OF MY BABY GIRL FARAH NURSE.

Farah is four years and five grades ahead of Nursey.

She was an Angel Baby but a Demon Toddler--Nursey beingborn flipped her back into being a reasonable child because all of a suddenthere was this Small Person Thing who was kind of interesting but also madenoise and Huh, Okay.

fiercely fiercelyfiecrely protective of her baby brother. They’ve never been in the sameschool, but she is intensely aware that he’s a soft, sensitive kid, and shewill claw someone’s eyes out if they mess with him.

really, really intomedia and how it influences people, particularly the way queer people, peopleof color, and QPOC are influenced to see themselves and develop theirself-worth based on media depictions. Starts getting into critical analysis ofart and news and movies and TV in like, eighth grade.

Gabriela is SO PROUD.

has gone back and forth on wearing hijab a few timesthroughout her life. Talks to her mom about it a lot. Amal tells her consistently that it’s always her decision,that she can change her mind whenever she wants, and that as long as shechooses to wear it (or not) for reasons she feels okay about, she supports her.

The only time she ever feels guilty is when she thinksabout wearing it at Andover just as a fuckyou to the guys who talk about how Muslim women are Always Oppressed. Shedecides not to wear it.

follows her moms to NYU, where she meets her boyfriendRami, who’s an Arab Jew. They move in together their senior year. She is super nervous about meeting his parentsfor the first time at their house in Brooklyn. They take one look at her, tellher she’s too skinny, and attempt to adopt her.

She’s 5’11” and has never been told she’s too skinny byanyone in her life.

She wants to adopt them.

Rami’s parents have brunch with her moms every month and gossipabout when they’re going to get married.

I’m getting off-track but I love her.

The shared custody thing goes okay for awhile--the kidsdon’t really like going out to Westchester for half the week because it makestheir commute to school so long, butit’s part of the job. Eventually, Amal gets sole custody--Elijah isn’t doingthe emotional work of parenting, and the kids aren’t happy when they’re withhim.

I also have sad headcanons about shit that went down ifyou read my fic but that’s not crucial to this family HC necessarily.

for awhile, Nursey and Farah stay in touch with Elijahfairly frequently, but he’s not big on Feelings, and they’re not big on beinggaslighted about the fact that he’s really emotionally distant and his momyells at them a lot, so as they get older they really only talk to him on theirbirthdays, Father’s Day, his birthday, and major holidays.

Amal really tries to get them to keep in touch moreoften, because she’s really close with her dad and she wants her kids to have arelationship with theirs, but like...she’s not gonna force it.

Also, like...no one fucks with her babies.

So now: the Nurse-Torres Household:

one high-powered lawyer, one artist/gallery director,one super-analytical and overprotective child, and one sensitive,clumsy-as-fuck baby hockey player.

My. Loves.

there are a Lot of Languages in this House

Amal teaches the kids Moroccan Arabic literally as soonas the divorce is finalized--Elijah didn’t want her to teach them while theywere married because he didn’t like them having a language with her he didn’tknow, but NOPE.

Nursey soaks it up like a sponge. Farah’s seven so shehas a little more trouble, but like fuck is she going to let her baby brotherbe better than her at something so

Gabriela laments thefact that her step-children speak fluent Spanish but their accents are afucking mess because the nannies they learned from were from Guatemala, thenSpain, then Argentina

Other languages spoken, scattered across multiplepeople, in varying degrees of fluency: French, Portuguese, Mandarin, Italian,Latin, Haryanvi, Hebrew.

family dinners are mandatory--anyone who’s home musteat together, sitting down, at the table, without electronics.

Nursey refuses to come to dinner for a week after Farahleaves for Andover because it won’t be The Same

there’s a Lot of physical affection: hugs, cuddles,forehead kisses, hair-playing, etc. Lots of wrestling between Farah and Nursey.Nursey usually loses.

Nursey always loses.

once both kids are at college, there are regularlyscheduled Family Google Hangouts

Also mandatory

Basically family dinner

Nursey does it in the Haus once and everyone freaks outat how hot everyone in his family is

he’s Aware, thanks dudes

This is four full pages long in a google doc and I needto stop but basically: Nursey has a really complicated and strainedrelationship with his dad, and he misses his half-sisters sometimes, but he’s so so so loved by his moms and hissister and he’s so supported and he loves them so much and i have about amillion feels and i could go on forever please stop me.

also it’s not a family member but their next doorneighbor has a pit bull named Lupe who loves Nursey and every time he comeshome he takes it for a walk in central park and he wants a dog so much and he’s counting the minutesuntil he can get one

thank you for your time.

i’m crying now.

#derek malik nurse my hipster poet son #holy shit this got so long i'm so so sorry #nursey headcanon #derek nurse #nursey #headcanon post #nonbinarydereknurse

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alongwalktoforever · 7 years

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Goodbye, Until Tomorrow Pt 3

Chapter 1: The Decision

Chapter 2: The Night Before

Chapter 3: The Morning Of

Jackson

Jackson was standing in front of a door. He had the intense feeling of homecoming, the feeling of having been away for far too long. He tries to turn the doorknob, but it doesn’t budge. He hears laughter inside and instinctively knows its April’s. Peering through the window, Jackson spots toys and a stroller in the living room. He knocks on the door, no answer. Suddenly, he is banging on the door, yelling “APRIL!!! APRIL PLEASE! HELLO? ANYONE?? CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?” With each hit, the air around him gets thinner and he can’t breathe. And with each hit the laughter from inside grows louder. No one can hear him, no one cared.

Jackson sat up in his bed, his heart pounding in his chest and gnawing feeling in his gut. It was still dark out; the clock flashed 5:08am. Jackson stares up in the darkness for a few seconds until his heart rate returns to normal. This wasn’t his first experience with nightmares. After the hospital shooting, Jackson had vivid dreams of Gary Clarke massacring him and everyone he knew. For months, he would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. When he was unable to fall back asleep, April would stay up and watch stupid late-night television with him until morning or until they’d both passed out on Meredith’s uncomfortable couch. Those were the days when they were figuring out who they were to each without Reed and Charles. Those were the days she became his best friend.

Jackson slowly climbs out of bed. He washes his face in the hotel sink turns on the television, looking for something...anything to keep his mind busy. But the only thing on television that early in the morning are terrible morning talk shows and infomercials.

Jackson decides to go for a run, it was finally light outside and exercising would do him some good instead of lamenting for the next four and half hours. His normal route took him on a path that circled a park not too far from the hotel. The crisp air jolted him awake. He began his run and was the only one out this early in the morning.

Step. Breath. Step. Breathe. Step.

He focused on the very basic movements of his body, he wouldn’t let his mind think about anything else. That was a perk of being a surgeon, they could compartmentalize with the best. He ran until his muscles burned. He ran until each breathe took effort. He ran until the whole world felt very far away.

When Jackson finally stopped, he sat down on a very old bench that overlooked the pond. It had a quote written across the front that he had never noticed.

“Come what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day.”

—Shakespeare (Macbeth)

Jackson let his fingers rest over the gold lettering. Fitting, he thought. Life keeps moving forward. The quote was surprisingly close to something his mother had always told him. He could even hear her voice, “Child. You can cry, you can whine, you can stomp your feet, but the sun still gonna come up in the morning. So, get used to it and do something about it.”

It is how he got through Samuel, it was how he got through the year without April, and it was how he was going to get through this. Just keep moving forward.

This divorce would let them move on, he repeated to himself for the millionth time. They were doing it the humane way. There were no disputes, no court, no children living in a broken home. It was a clean break. The opposite of his parent’s divorce. Jackson thought about how ugly everything got between them. He was seven when his parents split up. They weren’t even speaking to each other at that time. The only interactions were late night phone-calls where they fight and yell at each other when they thought Jackson was asleep. They fought on everything. They fought on spousal support, on where Jackson was going to live, on who got to keep the damn cat. They hated each other and Jackson remembers feeling like he was being split in half. They even made him testify in court on who he would rather live with. He chose his mother, who was a much more prominent figure in his life.

However, there was one instance, where his father picked him up early from school with a suitcase and told them they were going on a trip together. They flew from Boston to San Francisco and stayed in a hotel room for a few days. Jackson loved it until his mother woke him up in the middle of night and took him away. What he didn’t know until later was that his father hadn’t told his mother about the trip. He never saw his mother so furious before in his life. After she brought Jackson home, it was the first and only time he ever saw his mother cry. Jackson’s father slowly left the picture, popping up for the occasional holiday until he stopped showing up at all. That was when his grandfather, Harper Avery, took a much more serious interest in Jackson.

Jackson was nineteen years old when his father died while drunk driving. The bastard had wrapped his car around a pole, luckily not hurting anyone else in the process. At the time of his father’s death, Jackson hadn’t talked to him in over two years.

When April had that first pregnancy scare in the beginning, a million things ran through his head. He was young, they were in an undefined relationship, he had his whole career ahead of him and so did she. But he knew that he was never going to let his kids feel the pain of growing up without a father. He would be there through thick and thin. He would take care and protect his family and the people that he loved.

Jackson had always known that April was going to make a great mother. He knew that way before they were anything more than just friends. She brought homemade cookies to work, she knitted scarves for Christmas, and she seemed to know every Disney song by heart. There was one point after the plane crash, he and April along with a resistant Karev had to babysit Zola and Sofia for several days while their parents dealt with the fallout. Everyone was in shock and on edge. Jackson and April hadn’t spoken about their hook-up since the locker room talk. But he remembers watching her play with the girls. She planned a grand tea party with all of Sofia and Zola’s stuffed animals as well as Jackson and Karev in attendance. The girls were laughing and playing, not scared of the seismic shift happening with their parents, they were just being kids. He had looked at April and thought, she will be an amazing mother. The thought scared the shit out of him, mostly because when he pictured it, he was there with her.

Later, when they found out they were pregnant with Samuel, he was so scared about being a good father. He didn’t have anyone to compare it too. He read every book and researched articles and videos online. Those were the days he wished that Sloane was alive so he could have someone to talk about it too. Of course, Jackson had no idea that being a good father would be the least of his worries when his child has a fatal incurable birth defect.

They both carried the gene. It was their fault what happened to Samuel. If April finds someone else, someone who isn’t a carrier then they could have a boatload of healthy kids. He tried to picture it: April with a vague, faceless husband and three or four kids running around. The thought of April having a family without him hurt so much, he had to shut his eyes to stop himself from crying. He took three deep breathes. This was for the best. This was for the best. This was for the best.

He checked his watch, it was almost 8am. He got up from the bench and made his way back to his apartment. He had set everything out the night before so all he had to do was shower. Simple things like tying his shoes and buttoning his shirt took effort. He had no appetite. He was a mess. His phone already had six missed calls from his mother which he simply ignored. There was no way he was opening that can of worms today.

He drove to his lawyer’s office; he was very early. He sat in the car with the windows down and the seat back, listening to sports radio. It wasn’t even 10am yet and he was in desperate need of a drink. He was contemplating the time it would take for him to go buy a handle of whiskey and get back in time, when he saw his lawyer pull up in his red Mercedes Benz.

“Today is the day!” The lawyer cheerfully yelled across the parking lot. God, he’s the worst, Jackson thought. This was going to be a very long day. They walked into the office and a few minutes later, April’s lawyer enters alone. It was 10:08am, it wasn’t like April to be late. He was always the late one, the messy one, the one who loses his keys. The lawyers engage in asinine small talk that Jackson can’t be bothered to listen or respond. He stares at the door. It was a confusing feeling, needing April to walk through the doors so they could get this over with and dreading the moment she does.

When the door finally opens, Jackson takes a very large breath. He repeats the mantra once more: keep moving forward.

April

April wakes up in a daze, the kind where you aren’t sure where you are or even who you are. She had been in such a deep sleep, she felt like should could have been asleep for days. The clock on her bedroom table flashes 7:36am. She had something to do today, something important. Of course, it finally hits her. The whole year floods her, Samuel, Jordan, Jackson leaving, the divorce. April is overwhelmed with emotion and something else… she runs to the bathroom, just making it to the toilet before she vomits. She chalks the nausea up to nerves and rinses her mouth out into the sink. She stares at her reflection, she looks exhausted.

She turns on the shower and waits for the water to heat up. April had been too tired to even change out of scrubs last night. As she stripes down, April feels something in her pocket. She pulls out a small plastic object, the pregnancy test from the supplies closet. She must have subconsciously put it in her pocket when she left the hospital last night. Just another thing from the universe to throw at her today. Without a second thought, she tosses it in the trash and enters the shower.

She turns the water to hot until the whole room fills with steam. April stands underneath the stream, trying to let it wash away all the terrible thoughts that came over her last night. If she let those thoughts back in today, she was never going to make through the day. She had to accept it. There is no Jackson, there is no God, she was alone. Being a doctor and saving lives, that could be enough for her. The sooner she accepted it, the sooner life would move forward.

She steps out of the shower and pulls out her hair dryer from underneath the sink. What a stupid tradition, having to dress up for your own divorce. She finishes straightening her hair and applying her makeup, but her eyes keep finding that that stupid pregnancy test on top of the trash. Why had she brought it home? She has no memory of putting in her pocket or feeling it when she went to bed. But there it was, she felt like it was mocking her. She picks it out of the bathroom trash intent on throwing it away in the kitchen so she wouldn’t have to look at it anymore. Enough. She was going to stop thinking and looking at that damn test. She only makes it to her bedroom, stopped by a memory.

One minute ago, they were screaming at each other and throwing fortune cookies. Now, they were drawn to each other like magnets. Their kiss had open up a floodgate and there was a need that they couldn’t ignore. Her whole body was on fire. She had missed him, his smell, his touch. She would have had him right there on the kitchen counter, but he carried her into the bedroom. She pulled him on top of her, feeling his pressure. She needed him inside her. He stopped kissing her. Just for second, but it felt like eternity and just looked at her. April had no idea what he was thinking, she reached up and stroked his face. He kissed her again softly this time. They were one again, no longer separate beings.

She shakes her head. No, what she is thinking is impossible. She was just looking for any excuse to stop this day. She was just emotional and sad...and nauseous...and late. No, no no no no no. She can’t. She can’t be. Women skip periods when they are going through emotional trauma all the time. It was a normal health phenomenon; she would know. So why can’t she just let this go? In an hour, she has to walk into that lawyer’s office and say goodbye to the love of her life. And all she could think about was this damn test.

She needed to know, one way or another.

On the floor of the bathroom, April waited. Three minutes to be exact. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling or thinking or doing. What was she expecting, she finds out she is pregnant and everything magically fixes itself? And what if the test is negative? Could her heart take that disappointment? Wait, that thought surprised her... would it be a disappointment or a relief?

Two minutes. If she was pregnant, it would be the most inconvenient time in the world to discover. The day of her divorce, when Jackson and her weren’t even speaking. Everything was falling apart, including herself. She was a mess. She wasn’t even sure she could handle a baby right now. A baby. A baby with Jackson’s eyes and kind smile.

One minute. Warmth spread through her whole body. It would be the most beautiful thing. Suddenly, she knows. She picks up the test to make sure, but she is already certain at what is staring back at her; the pink plus. Tears are streaming down her face and she’s laughing. She was happy, so so happy. She had lost all hope. She had cursed God, mocked him, and even questioned his existence. Yet, he had given her this miracle. A baby, that was a little Jackson and little of her and something all itself

Jackson. Her joy diminishes as her stomach drops. She has to tell him. She wants to tell him. God, she wants to tell him, but something in the back of her mind is stopping her.

It’s a memory.

“Don’t you see? This is what you do. You just decide how things are going to go.”

“I am not the one deciding!”

“OF COURSE YOU’RE THE ONE DECIDING! April, you are always deciding. You decide to go to Jordan. You decide to leave. You decide to stay. You decide you need me then you decide you don’t. You decide we can talk, you decide we cannot.”

April knew what would happen if she told him, he wouldn’t go through with the divorce. Could she really be with a man who she forced to stay? Is that what was best for him or her? Jackson was a good man and he would put everything aside for this baby, even if that isn’t what he really wanted. She was not going to complicate this divorce any more than she already had. She was not going to force him to stay with her. She needed time.

Everything from getting dressed to driving to the lawyer’s office happened in a haze. She was on time, a few minutes early even. Yet as she stands outside the large wooden door and reaches for the doorknob, she stops abruptly. It is suddenly very real. She has to face him. She has to sit across from him while a few pieces of paper demolish the last four years of her life. She begins to pace back and forth down the hallway. What if he can see it on her face? What if she blurts it out in the middle of the signing? April stands in front of the door and takes a few deep breathes. I will get through this. I will not cry. I will get through this. For the first time, April knew she would. After all, she wasn’t alone anymore.

#japril #japriledit #jackson x april #jackson and april #april kepner #jackson avery #grey's anatomy #ga #goodbye until tomorrow #goodbye until tomorrow pt 3 #japril fanfiction #fanfic

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biofunmy · 5 years

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‘Marriage Story’ Review: Dance Me to the End of Love

Traditionally, a story that ends in matrimony is classified as a comedy. But what about a story that begins with the end of a marriage? Noah Baumbach’s tender and stinging new film, “Marriage Story,” doesn’t quite answer the question. It’s funny and sad, sometimes within a single scene, and it weaves a plot out of the messy collapse of a shared reality, trying to make music out of disharmony. The melody is full of heartbreak, loss and regret, but the song is too beautiful to be entirely melancholy.

Charlie (Adam Driver) and Nicole (Scarlett Johansson) are an artistic couple living in Brooklyn with their 8-year-old son, Henry (the wonderful, deadpan Azhy Robertson). Both parents work in the theater: Nicole, a former teenage movie star (and a child of Hollywood), is a leading performer in the experimental stage company that Charlie, himself a sometime actor, directs. What we know of their life together is conveyed in an opening montage in which each partner, in turn, lists the things they love about the other. They’ve compiled these catalogs at the urging of the mediator hired to help them through their separation.

What follows — as an amicable split becomes a shattering rupture, lurching from awkwardness to rage in search of a new equilibrium — is a reversal of Tolstoy’s sturdy observation about happy and unhappy families. Happiness is unique, inexpressible, a state that exists outside of narrative. Misery is what makes you just like everyone else.

This is certainly the perspective of the divorce lawyers who soon replace that hapless mediator. Nicole, who has a role on a television pilot, takes Henry to Los Angeles, where her sister (Merritt Wever), their mother (Julie Hagerty) and Henry’s cousins live. This move, which Charlie insists is temporary — “we’re a New York family,” he says to anyone who will listen — becomes a point of contention between the spouses and their attorneys. Papers are served. Voices are raised. Henry, whose well-being is supposedly everyone’s chief concern, is pulled back and forth, his life wrenched out of sync.

Nicole and Charlie, onetime creative collaborators, become characters in a drama neither one controls. “We need to tell your story,” says Nora (Laura Dern), Nicole’s lawyer. Charlie visits two — a rumpled mensch (Alan Alda) and a shark in a suit (Ray Liotta) — and one of them urges him to “change the narrative.” For both parties (as they are called once their experiences are translated into legalese), this means rewriting a happy-couple past into a history of struggle.

The most painful parts of “Marriage Story” act out that revisionism, as idiosyncrasies are made to look pathological and mistakes are treated as potential crimes. The German social critic Theodor W. Adorno wrote that “divorce, even between good-natured, amiable, educated people, is apt to stir up a dust-cloud that covers and discolors all it touches,” an insight that Baumbach illustrates with vivid precision. He shows how “the sphere of intimacy” (to continue with Adorno) “is transformed into a malignant poison as soon as the relationship in which it flourished is broken off.”

The intimacy doesn’t just vanish. At their moment of most intense conflict — when the thin line between love and hate seems to have been irrevocably crossed — Nicole still calls Charlie “honey.” There is still a residue of sweetness between them, which offers hope, not necessarily for reconciliation but for a limit to the damage each will inflict and sustain.

What is happening is catastrophic, ridiculous and also — as the lawyers know — perfectly ordinary. Baumbach, exploiting and extending the tremendous talents of his cast, refuses to exaggerate. There are spasms of farce and throbs of melodrama, but they arise within the rhythms of everyday behavior. Which is not to say that Nicole and Charlie are confined to the shabby, somber stagecraft that so often passes for realism. They are large, complicated personalities with professional and emotional lives that fill their days, and the screen, with anxiety, surprise and occasional delight.

Baumbach works to be fair to both of them, and the effort shows. Like his other movies, perhaps even more so, this one feels personal. I don’t just mean autobiographical. In a few minutes on Google you can find out about his marriage, his parents, his in-laws and whatever else you want to know. That information only confirms what you have already intuited if you’ve seen “The Squid and the Whale,” “Margot at the Wedding,” “While We’re Young” or “The Meyerowitz Stories: New and Selected”: He draws from his own life.

But you shouldn’t expect the picture to be perfectly objective or symmetrical. In some ways, “Marriage Story” is harder on Charlie than on Nicole, underlining his self-absorbed, self-pitying tendencies, but he also occupies the film’s sympathetic center of gravity. It understands him better, even as Nicole has plenty of chances to explain herself. She seems to be the one who precipitated the breakup, whose expectations and feelings changed in ways that Charlie struggles to comprehend. He is blind to some of the consequences of his own behavior, which includes cheating on Nicole with a member of the theater company.

The infidelity is treated as a sidebar, which isn’t entirely convincing. And while “Marriage Story” delves into the tangled thickets of its characters’ feelings, it is coy — or maybe just tactful — about their sexual lives, together and apart. Nicole has a moment of lust (following a moment of fury), but Charlie is, libidinally speaking, a closed book.

The complexity of the film’s perspective — what Baumbach reveals and what he withholds, how he keeps up with characters whose circumstances are changing rapidly even as they feel like they’re stuck — places enormous demands on Driver and Johansson, who are simply extraordinary. They are perfectly matched, which is to say interestingly mismatched, given the trajectory of the story. Each one has a charisma that’s a little mysterious, a hint of Cubism in their faces, an undertone of irony in their voices. How could they ever have expected to know each other?

One of the morals of this story, chastening but also oddly encouraging, is that we don’t ever really know one another, but we’re nonetheless obligated to try. Lawyers do it their way, insisting on simple answers to difficult questions. This is the place to note that Alda, Liotta and Dern collectively come close to stealing the movie, in part because they are playing performers fully in their element in ways that Charlie and Nicole are not.

We sometimes see those two at work — there are some delicious tidbits of backstage comedy, in both New York and Los Angeles — but rarely onstage. There are two important exceptions, moments of theater that use borrowed words and self-conscious artifice to deliver strong doses of unadorned feeling. Both involve songs from Stephen Sondheim’s “Company”: “You Could Drive a Person Crazy,” a jaunty complaint about falling for a charming narcissist; and “Being Alive,” a heartfelt lament about being one. That number, sung by Driver near the end of “Marriage Story,” is an anthem of need, building to the shattering realization that “alone is alone, not alive.”

That is a bleak conclusion, and it’s one that this meticulous and messy movie both acknowledges and resists. Bouncing between two large, opinionated American cities, Charlie and Nicole discover that other people are impossible and indispensable: children, colleagues, in-laws, exes, even sworn officers of the matrimonial bar. Alive is alive, not alone.

Marriage Story

Rated R. Sometimes mommies and daddies have feelings. Running time: 2 hours 16 minutes.

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suppersanchez · 5 years

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12 Steps to Divorcing a Drug Addict

1. Put Your Trust In Your God. The Universe is constrained by a heavenly power. Put your trust in the intensity of supplication and tune in to the appropriate responses. All through my marriage, I appealed to God for the solidarity to get past some very troublesome occasions. Not being a someone who is addicted myself, I can't comprehend placing a synthetic in my body and holding that compound in a more significant spot than my family. I simply don't get it however at last, if your companion won't look for expert assistance for medication and liquor addictions, it's presumably time to go. I was so terrified, and I believed I had not alternative but rather to leave to secure myself (and the kids). First and foremost, I was stunned (regardless I am) that he would pick sedates over us, his family, yet THAT WAS his decision. Despite the fact that I can't control his decisions, I AM influenced by his decisions, and I CAN control HOW I will respond to those decisions. In this way, I pray...a parcel neworld detox

2. Get Legal Advice - Know that anything a medication fiend says, regardless of how true it appears without needing any proof, is driven by the medications. Regardless of whether the dialog is about the youngsters or cash, don't believe anything a someone who is addicted says. An expert disclosed to me that when you are separating from a medication fiend, you MUST confront the way that a medication fanatic is engaging in extramarital relations! You (and the youngsters, if there are kids) are never again the essential concentration for a companion with sedate/liquor issues. An undertaking with the medications is very hard for the other life partner to "battle". (A companion of mine experienced a separation with an accomplice that was an incessant "con artist", she felt my circumstance was simpler. Separating from a medication someone who is addicted is equivalent to separating from a "con artist" - the trust is no more! When the trust is gone - it's gone!) So, shockingly, you should have lawful portrayal, except if the fanatic is eager to sign everything over and simply leave. On the off chance that your mate is eager to "give" you everything, you should in any case have a lawyer and maybe a bookkeeper audit and exhort you on any present moment, long haul and additionally charge suggestions. Check with companions or go on the web and get referrals from talk rooms, web discussions or even Twitter can direct you to sites to assist you with doing some exploration, yet at last, get proficient guidance.

3. Get Support from Friends. A separation is sincerely depleting. Ordinarily, your loved ones would prefer not to hear it, yet it's extremely imperative to have somebody that is happy to tune in and simply offer help. Not direction, simply support.

4. Get Therapy. On the off chance that you can stand to visit with an advisor, I would exceptionally suggest that you do that. A prepared proficient can assist you with understanding the inward cerebrum operations of a medication/liquor someone who is addicted. What's more, regardless of whether you need to hear it or not, at some level you have some obligation in this. An advisor can assist you with seeing the regions where you need to take responsibility for emergency. There are concentrates out now, that have uncovered that individuals with addictions have a quality that can be recognized. You may need to confront the way that, maybe, you were an "empowering influence". At last, however, the duty regarding the addictions lay soundly on the shoulders of the someone who is addicted. Except if, obviously, you were the one that held your life partner down and physically constrained the medications into their body.

5. Blog. In the event that you live in an air pocket, where you haven't access to companions, family and specialists then I would propose that you blog or in any event diary. Regardless of whether you do have loved ones, these emotionally supportive networks, initially, become weary of finding out about your resentments and harms and furthermore, your loved ones, except if they have experienced it, may not realize how to help you. It's one thing to have loved ones that can bolster you in a separation, be that as it may, separating from a fanatic isn't care for experiencing an "ordinary" "hostile contrasts" separate. Go on the web and discover others that are battling similar monsters, discover talk rooms and discussions that can give you direction in discovering legal counselors and specialists and so on in your general vicinity of the nation. It will allow you to yell with somebody that comprehends and you can analyze awfulness stories, that, trust me, may in the end, with time, appear to be somewhat engaging. Possibly, even clever.

6. Ensure your Credit. Any separation will cause disturbances with your FICO assessment, and particularly today with the current financial circumstance and issues with wholesale fraud, it turns out to be significantly increasingly critical to ensure your personality and your FICO assessment. This isn't simply aimed at pariahs, your mate may attempt to hey jack your character, for their own self-serving rehearses as well as, some of the time, as was for my situation, an endeavor at causing you hurt. In a separation, the two gatherings have the potential (and the rationale) to make hurt the others' credit. Loathsomeness stories flourish about credit fiascoes brought about by furious companions - like..... running up Mastercards in the other life partner's name and leaving. Enroll an assistance, that for a month to month charge, will screen your FICO assessment and exhort you by email, if there are any progressions shockingly score.

7. Set Up Your New Separate Identity. On the off chance that it's not time at this moment, it will be soon. Along these lines, there's no time like the present to begin utilizing your very own name and personality. Start perceiving yourself as YOU. Isolated and separated from your way of life as a life partner, having others remember you as an individual remaining solitary will assist you with feeling increasingly enabled. Consider returning to your single name.

8. Take as much time as is needed. Choices made now, while not unchangeable, are significant and will have an effect. Regardless of whether you choose to move to another home or city, whether you pick one legal counselor over another. Every one of these choices are significant. So settle on your decisions carefully and be educated as well as can be expected. Accept counsel from any sources you can, however recall you are the one that needs to live with the long haul effect of the decisions. So settle on your decisions and choices carefully!

9. Try not to Take Advice from Friends. All that being stated, in number 8, perceive that you shouldn't accept guidance from companions as "unchangeable". Take the information, say something out, offset it with data from looking through the web yet simply realize that companions are one-sided. Except if your companions are prepared experts, and still, at the end of the day, while their information might be ardent, it may be absolutely off-base for your circumstance and they could be one-sided. Take all the information and apply what attempts to your individual circumstance.

10. Protections. Ensure every one of your protections are state-of-the-art. Medicinal, vehicle, home, life. In my circumstance, out of the blue (I derive his procedures were obfuscated by the medication/liquor use), the vehicle protection didn't get paid and we were driving for quite a long time with no vehicle protection. In my express, that is illicit and it was accounted for to the state and that gotten into another situation, which made further harm my FICO rating. So assume liability and ensure ALL your protections are current.

11. Your Finances. Your accounts are a urgent piece of a separation. On the off chance that at all conceivable, I would recommend that you should, lamentably, preplan by tucking some cash aside, before the separation, if things turn revolting. You will, in any event, approach SOME cash to see you through some troublesome streets ahead. Cash in ought to consistently be more than cash out, yet especially significant during a separation. Work perseveringly towards maintaining Mastercards in control. Proceed, if at all conceivable, to add to your investment funds plan each month.. You should know about expense consequences and the long haul sway - things that your legal counselor might not have ability in. Work with a bookkeeper or a separation arranging money related master. Knowing the past is constantly 20/20 is the manner by which the expression goes and in thinking back I understand that during my marriage, we lived off of one compensation and banked the other. While in the marriage, I imagined that was an extraordinary thought. Presently however, when he shut the financial balances and took all the cash, I understand that wasn't such a smart thought. Get a bookkeeper.

12. Care for Yourself. The street ahead will charge and presumably troublesome, contingent upon the amount of a period/passionate speculation you made into your marriage. Set aside the effort to unwind, do whatever it is that brings some "you" time. Take strolls, play a card game, ride ponies, yoga, read, play the piano, it's essential to discover time to encounter the things that bring you stress help. Stress can be hard to oversee whenever in your life, yet especially during a separation. The fact is that a separation CAN expend you, IF you let it. Along these lines, set aside the effort to set aside effort for you. Ensure regardless you complete your hair, your nails, spoil yourself and simply know, that regardless of what another person might be letting you know - you are justified, despite all the trouble. Caring for yourself strengthens your vitality levels, your purpose and your assurance.

In the start of the end, (or the finish of the start), I watched "Journal of a Mad Black Woman, I watched, "Enough", I watched, "Laying down with the Enemy" and keeping in mind that I perceived pieces of every one of those motion pictures in my marriage, more than anything I perceived that the regular component is a sure "framework" of feelings that run amuck. First comes the surge of dread, at that point resentment, at that point outrage, at that point, dread once more. More ire, outrage and afterward acknowledgment and goals. Through everything, runs the longing to "loathe" - in the end you come the goals that these negative feelings fuel business as usual - through the Law of Attraction - so it's more beneficial (not simpler - but rather more advantageous) to release it. The Law of Attraction is exceptionally clear, whatever you center around - whatever you consider you will bring a greater amount of into your life. Outrage, brings more outrage, alternately harmony will bring more harmony.

Medication and liquor addicts don't take medications and liquor in view of something you have done, they take medications and liquor in view of something going without anyone else reality. I used to get irritated each time I opened an email offering to supply me with drugs without a remedy - some way or another I had the option to effectively hit the erase button. I can'

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republicstandard · 6 years

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Woman Bishop sets out to Castrate God in the name of Equality

Take a red pill, Bishop Rachel, before you set female prisoners free.

Rachel Treweek, Bishop of Gloucester, is an über-feminist. On Sunday, she called for the God of the Bible to undergo Gender Reassignment Surgery. “I don’t want young girls or young boys to hear us constantly refer to God as he,” she told The Telegraph.

Jesus, the Son of God, called God his Father. Treweek grew up praying the Lord’s Prayer and calling God “Our Father”. But now, as the most senior female bishop in the Church of England and a member of the House of Lords, our Rachel has inside information that God wishes to transition to a non-gendered being.

The “mind your language” bishop, oddly enough, hasn’t yet objected to the masculine nomenclature of the House of “Lords” or to the masculine form of “bishop” – she threw her miter at me after I called her a “bishopess”. Of course, she believes bubble-gum popping tweens and teens will come flooding into the Church of England if we stopped calling God by his preferred choice of pronoun.

Once Treweek gets rids of God the Father’s toxic masculinity, her next project will be to persuade God the Son to put his name on the NHS waiting list for Hormone Therapy. Jesus can have a second incarnation as a woman and Treweek can re-brand Jesus Christ as Jessie Christa.

“I am very hot about saying can we always look at what we are communicating,” she says. Treweek is also very hot on setting prisoners free – she intends to implement the Nazareth manifesto from Luke’s gospel, where Jesus, reading from the prophet Isaiah, announces that God has called him “to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound”.

Now that Treweek is Bishop for Women’s Prisons she’s flagged off her campaign for prison reform in the House of Lords last week. Surely that’s not a bad thing? But before you raise a toast and sing She’s a jolly good fellow (sexist, eh?) to this reincarnation of Elizabeth Fry, take a deep breath and listen to the whole story.

Treweek doesn’t want all prisoners to go free. There are around 4,000 female prisoners in Her Majesty’s Prisons and her heart bleeds for these victims of the patriarchal society, which is, no doubt, to blame for women committing crimes. Treweek wants only the guilty women to be let loose. The male prisoners can rot in Wormwood Scrubs for all she cares (unless they self-identify as women).

After all, she’s a feminist. But isn’t feminism all about equal rights for women? My dictionary defines “feminism” as “the advocacy of women’s rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes.” So Rachel, by your own standards, women, and men are equal. Men and women are equal before God – in creation and salvation (which is why Treweek was one of the pioneering campaigners for women’s ordination). If Treweek wants us to treat women as equal to men, why is she launching a campaign that is predicated entirely on special pleading for women?

Is she taking us back to the dreadful days of patriarchal hegemony where women were considered the weaker sex? If women can fight in commando units like the SAS in the Her Majesty’s Army, surely they aren’t complaining just because they have to do “equal time for equal crime” as the men in Her Majesty’s Prisons?

So why is Bishop Rachel calling for a change to the way women are sentenced? Why is she calling for a review of short prison sentences and asking for consideration of community-based orders and rehabilitation for women with less serious offenses? Why is she calling for women offenders to be given more lenient sentences?

Her first reason is that “these women present a distinct set of needs and their imprisonment has a significant impact on communities and society as a whole”. Well, don’t men have an equally distinct set of needs? Doesn’t throwing them behind bars also have a significant impact particularly on the family? What if the man of the family is the only breadwinner? What if he is an activist who is not around to protect them from Muslim rape squad threats as reportedly happened in the case of Tommy Robinson’s wife and two small children?

We know that a pregnant woman presents a distinct set of needs. But what if this is used as a get-out card as in the case of Natalie Williams from Darlington, County Durham, who after she was arrested, deliberately got pregnant with a new boyfriend – to stay out of prison?

Treweek talks about “the vulnerabilities and challenges of women in prison” but does not name them. Yes, some women, like some men, would certainly be more vulnerable and face more challenges than others. But, surely, to label an entire group on the basis of their gender as “vulnerable” is the most offensive kind of gender stereotyping, isn’t it, Rachel?

At the recent Fourth International Conference for Men’s Rights, where I was invited as a speaker, I heard the testimony of boxer and physical trainer Ramon Sosa, a Puerto Rican who became an American citizen. Using photographs and FBI reports, Sosa narrated how a stunningly beautiful Mexican illegal immigrant lured him into marriage and used him to legalize her immigration status. When the couple were on the verge of divorce, she got his best friend to hire a hit man to kill him for $12,000 so she could inherit his business. The FBI staged his death and arrested his wife. She escaped a life sentence and is doing 20 years in jail.

Bishop Rachel, I do wish you would send Mrs. Sosa a bottle of Chanel, a bouquet of flowers and a “Get Out Soon” card.

What is Treweek’s justification for privileging women offenders over their men counterparts? ABUSE! Yes! “Unfortunately, the majority of women offenders have experienced some sort of abuse, whether from a partner or a family member,” she laments in her speech to the House of Lords.

Treweek cites Women in Prison, who typically blame “abuse, marginalization and poverty” as “the root of so much of women’s offending”. She parrots their statistics:

“53% of women in jail report having experienced physical, emotional or sexual abuse during childhood; 46% report having suffered domestic violence; and over 30% spent time in local authority care as a child.”

But does “abuse” justify criminal behavior? Also, would Bishop Rachel support lighter sentences for male offenders if they were abused or orphaned?

Alan Dershowitz, leading criminal lawyer, Harvard Law School professor, and a staunch liberal, lambasts what he calls “the abuse excuse”. In his book The Abuse Excuse and other Cop-Outs, Sob Stories and Evasions of Responsibility, Dershowitz argues that excuses that are gender-specific, send a “dangerous double message of irresponsibility, especially about women. After all, if women who have been abused are not responsible for their violence, then does it not follow that such women are irresponsible and thus untrustworthy?”

Unlike Treweek, Dershowitz really believes in women’s equality. He contends that the kind of “generalization” perpetuated by Treweek and Women in Prison, “if accepted – would contribute a major setback for abused women, and for women in general. It would confirm the sexist stereotype of the woman out of control. Such a generalization would also be an insult to the thousands of abused women who obey the law – who have not engaged in violence,” because “the truth is that the vast majority of women (and men) who have been abused are entirely capable of controlling their behavior and complying with the law”.

Perhaps the next time Treweek calls for women to be admitted to so-called Women’s centers rather than prison for their crimes, she could buttress her case by throwing in the premenstrual syndrome defense. Orthopedic surgeon Geraldine Richter got away with drunken driving and assaultive behavior after arguing it was premenstrual syndrome, not drunkenness, which caused her crime. This stigmatizes all women with PMS who do not drive drunk or engage in physical violence during the pre-menstrual part of their cycle.

What would Treweek do with 24-year-old Lorena Bobbit who took a knife and cut of her husband John’s penis when he was fast asleep, took the penis and fled in her car, tossing it out on the highway? “He always have orgasm, and he doesn't wait for me to have orgasm,” the Ecuadorian-born Lorena complained. “He's selfish.” Lorena also claimed that John raped her. A jury of nine women and three men acquitted John. Searching for his penis, though, was like looking for a needle in a haystack. It was finally found and reattached to John.

Treweek needs to take a red pill before she puts her feminist Nazareth manifesto into operation. The red pill, a popular cultural meme, derived from The Matrix, represents the brutal truths of reality. In 2016, journalist Cassie Jaye produced a documentary called The Red Pill. Jaye, a feminist, set out to debunk men’s rights movements. Jaye was red pilled by her investigations: men, not women, are the real victims of discrimination in the West, she concluded.

Gender equality activist Elizabeth Hobson contacted me with political dynamite about Treweek’s claims. Men are the real victims of the UK criminal justice system. Flogging as a punishment for female criminals was banned in 1820 but continued for men until 1967. Currently, men account for around 95% of the total prison population despite only committing 3.4 times more crimes than women. For the same crimes, men are given longer sentences than women and women are paroled earlier than men (despite being more likely to be disciplined for bad behavior whilst incarcerated), Hobson informed me.

Philip Davies, MP for Shipley, who has sat on the Justice Select Committee and the Women and Equalities Committee, slams the rampant sexist “bias towards women” when it comes to sentencing in British courts. Sexism in the justice system is evidenced by the fact men are more likely to be sent to prison than women, despite committing the same crimes. 61 percent of men found guilty of robbery are sent into custody, while only 32 percent of women suffer the same fate,” says Davies, courageously battling the tide of political correctness.

“Men have to wear uniforms in prison but women do not ‘because it’s bad for their self-esteem’. The inequality in the justice system is breathtaking. I’m arguing for equality – the justice system should be gender-blind,” argues Davies.

Davies is bang on target. Consider the case of aspiring heart surgeon Lavinia Woodward, a student at Christ Church, Oxford University. Woodward dosed on drugs, punched her boyfriend in the face, stabbed him with a bread knife, hurled a laptop at him, then followed up with a glass and a jam jar. The judge let her off the hook because she was an “extraordinarily able young lady”.

Contrast this with the case of Samuel Bunyan, who sexually assaulted a fellow undergrad as she slept. His victim admitted she was “seven out of ten drunk” when she invited him back to her flat “to watch movies”. The judge ordered the young man instantly to prison, and put him “indefinitely” on a sex offender register rendering him unemployable in a normal graduate job.

The next time Bishop Rachel trots out the psychobabble of the “abuse excuse” and blames amorphous structures like poverty or sexism or patriarchy, rather than sinful individuals for their actions, she should turn to the first pages of the Bible where the first recorded excuses appear.

Adam blames Eve and Eve blames the serpent. She tells God, “Don’t blame me, blame the serpent, he deceived me.” God, who happens to be a “he” in the book of Genesis, rejects Eve’s defense. Is this why Bishop Rachel is mad at God and so determined to emasculate Him?

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