i worked too hard on this man just take it

The other day I was at work and I had a customer start loudly complaining that the girl in line in front of him was paying for her food with an EBT card (food stamps). He starts loudly proclaiming right in earshot of her “look at this girl! She’s clearly able to work, why is she using food stamps? That’s bullshit! I work hard, I should get food stamps too!” I gritted my teeth and waited for the now-angry and tearful girl to leave, embarrassed, and then promptly refused to serve him. “I’m a customer, you have to serve me!”

“No, I refuse to serve a man who just made a girl cry and be embarrassed. You don’t know her. There could be a thousand mitigating circumstances in her life that you don’t know about.”

“Where is your manager???”

“Taking care of a customer less of an asshole than you. Get out of my store.”

My managers weren’t happy with my language, but they understood that a guy like that won’t be served at our store ever again.

Posts on: February 28th

Summary: After the events of I’m No Angel, Castiel finds himself exiled from the safety of the bunker. He takes to wandering, but the money Dean gives him runs out all too soon. Luck, or perhaps divine providence, lands him on the Amish farm of Jacob and Lydia Beiler. 

The Beilers take Cas in, and he learns to do farm chores and care for the Beilers’ apiary. Despite the Amish’s general distrust of outsiders - Englischers - the strange man who can understand their language and isn’t afraid of hard work seems a natural fit amongst them. Castiel thinks he might just go ahead and stay - the placid farmland seems like a good place to heal his broken heart, and maybe forget the man who broke it.

Meanwhile, Dean finds himself so wracked with guilt, he can barely sleep, has no appetite, and can’t stand to see his own face in the mirror. He can’t decide which transgression is worse; the fact that he threw Cas away or that Sam’s unwillingly - and unwittingly - possessed by an angel. Charlie comes for a visit and decides to stay, and it takes her no time at all to call Dean on his bullshit. 

With her help and encouragement and a plan to deal with the angel in Sam later, Dean and Charlie set out to find Cas and bring him home. But when they find him, Dean’s surprised that Cas doesn’t want to come home, leaving Dean to face some difficult truths about himself - and how he feels about Castiel. 

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

Keep reading

Questions we can kind of answer!

Oh man, he’s totally gonna SPOILER and then SPOILER the SPOILER.

I haven’t actually made a sizing chart for them yet, but Chara is approximately 5′ and Asriel is a bit taller, maybe 5′4″?

We have some work in progress showing older Frisk, but they look pretty similar to the way they do now. Just a little taller.

(Does this help?Honestly, none of us mind. Headcanon to your heart’s content.

Personally I think Howl’s English VA is a little too low and husky. And it’s hard to take Howl seriously with his flirty shtick! xD

In this AU, Asriel’s too young! His beard will come in eventually, but it may take a few (hundred) years.

Rigged? No dear anon, that puzzle was perfectly fair.

Reading is on the list, so that counts right? And Chara’s favorite book is Monster History Part 7.

Correct, it is a part of his character design in this AU.

montytheloser  asked:

I don't really work retail but I'm a waitress, once checking up in a table with a couple I did my practiced "how was everything?" And the man looked at me, said "yes" and pushed his plate to me. Now I just thought "well guess I should take these back" but then I notice the woman giggling so hard and now me and her husband are confused before she explained to him the exchange and I started laughing too as he just looks wide eyed and says "I thought you were asking if we were done"

That’s actually really cute. Thank you for sharing!

Succession - ‘Kitten and the Don’

This is a short standalone fiction within @junkpilestuff ‘s (who originally created it) and @nyublackneko AU within an AU ‘Kitten and the Don’. Generally this version of the Undertale Mob AU is about a 30 years old Frisk, who becomes something like a right hand man of a Don, the 48 year old Gaster!Sans (referred to as G). 

The short story revolves around this duo after they have worked together for more than ten years. Succession might become a pressing question.

I fear I take this AU way too seriously, but I recently read a lot about the original Godfather and this just started to develop itself until I had a strong urge to turn it into a real story. It was hard to imagine their characters and how they would interact, but it also was fun and something completely different in style than I usually do. So warning because of mild swearing?

Dedicated to the amazing @junkpilestuff and @nyublackneko and to those awesome people out there who continue to like my stories. :)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Thank you for another scene of Ghost lights, your boys are precious <3 And don't stress over creating your comic too much, okay? Take your time <3

aaah thank you so much for reading, im glad you like them <33

and, oh damn about the stressing (i’m sorry) i’m not really stressing over creating the comic itself because that’s what i want to do, and i enjoy drawing it

instead my mind keeps telling me that time runs out, and i don’t have enough time left. for like, everything. and when i continue to be so slow, it will be even less time..? i know it’s bs but it won’t shut up ;; i can’t really explain

i’m just a sad meme lately but even then, i want to create this story. and i want to do many other things, too, but my body just won’t let me right now, so this is the main reason why i’m so inactive everywhere. i know most of you are incredibly kind and patient and you would never pressure me, i’m very lucky to have readers and followers like that 💕 so thank you again for that, it helps me a lot and will help me through this too

anonymous asked:

Lmao I'm not being rude but don't you think its annoying how pyrocynicalyoutubedad has gone two weeks without uploading and is still gaining? Like she KNOWS she has a big audience but she's too lazy to upload like you think she would because of the amount of followers she's gained since October. Idk it just really frustrates me that she has a following so big that she for some reason won't cater to

SHE IS A HARD WORKING STUDENT WHO DOESN’T OWE YOU ANYTHING!! Not to sound rude but what the fuck man she’s been sick and taking all these exams(?) she is 15 and so am I so I know how stressful school can be at this point and she’s working her ass off to balance everything!! I want to see Poppy post something more than the next guy, if she uploaded everyday I’d bust nuts but I understand she’s got a lot on her plate and shit will be back to normal soon. She’s gaining because she’s good at what she does and people are willing to wait if you can’t just unfollow!! Just because you start something off with “lmao I’m not being rude” doesn’t make you rude!! You anon are a cunt but that’s just my opinion.

anonymous asked:

hi there! old member rose (calder, emmett, etc) here to say that i check in on wda about every day (just to see how you all are doing) and im so in awe of your guys' dedication to the group. it truly is inspiring, and only goes to show how much love you have for wda. you put your all into it, and it's amazing. remember to take care of yourselves too tho! you work so hard, u guys deserve a break every now and then ❤ and bc u should hear it 24/7, thank you for creating this magic! love u all ❤❤❤

Rose, thank you so, so much for this!! It means so much to get messages from old members but mans even more when the message is so sweet, and I think it’s safe to say, this won’t just have brightened my day, but Sam & Mae’s too! I really really hope life is treating you well (and maybe someday you’ll pop your head back in here properly), and again, thank you so much!  ❤

Title- The Universe Hates Me.

A Brendon Urie One Shot.

)��(G�

Pairing- Brendon Urie+ Original Character.

Era- Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die.

Word Count- 2,701

Warnings-

Angst.

Pretention.

Mentions Of Drug Abuse.

Unrequited Love.

Horribly Written.

 Terribly Long.

Trying Too Hard

!�� �*

A/N-

This wasn’t requested or anything, i just felt like writing something angst-y. It’s not as good as I imagined it to be. Feel free to leave criticism and point out my mistakes. 

Disclaimer-

This is a work of fiction based on real events. I only own the Original Character. I do not know what happened in Cape Town.

-Sentient Potato. 


“Do you, Sarah Orzechowski, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love him and cherish him in sickness and health, until death parts you?” The evangelist asked the beautiful girl in white who nodded and uttered a soft ‘I do’. Her nude lips framed her perfect teeth and were the supporting stars of her award winning smile. Her eyes were big, blue, and innocent. He had always been a sucker for long legged, petite waisted, innocent angels, which is why I always wondered what he saw in me.

The evangelist repeated his question to the man in the black tuxedo who was smiling so big that I couldn’t even hate him for it. He was so happy, something that he wasn’t back when I knew him. He nodded and repeated the black haired angel’s words.

The sun was pricking my bare shoulders, ringed ears, and bare neck when the wedding venue erupted in cheers because the couple was kissing. People were clapping, children were giggling, somewhere far away, fan girls were crying their smudged eye liner eyes out, and the attending women were crying, trying very hard to not ruin their makeup that was worth more than my entire existence, but then again, my existence was pretty pointless and forgettable. The couple separated their lips and gazed at each other like the bag of tissues, cartilages, bones, veins, and arteries in front of them was the most genuinely fascinating thing in the world and they couldn’t believe that they were lucky enough to be the other’s one and only. It was sweet, so sweet that it triggered my nonexistent diabetes.

The open field, where the vows and ‘I do’s’ were exchanged smelled like fresh flowers, strong colognes, aftershaves, expensive perfumes that sat on the dressing tables of expensive houses as a show piece, and heartache. I would apologize for my blunt description and borderline bitter tone, but that’s who I am. So, I won’t.

The couple walked down the strip of green grass that served as a walkway and still had a few stray pink petals on it. There it was again, that smile that I fell in love with all those years ago. That smile that reached his ‘typical brown’ brown eyes, every part of his face lit up, and his jaw became more prominent. That smile made it impossible for me to hate him, I tried to imagine him with a frown on his lips, but my brain stuttered and died. It decided to focus on that breath taking smile of his instead.

The couple disappeared from my line of sight after a while, but I can’t blame them, I am tragically short.

The attendees started moving towards the golden handled brown double doors that had intricate wooden patterns on its chipped surface with a general sense of hurriedness. I walked across the lawn leisurely, like I had nothing else better to do. To be fair, I didn’t.

I moved from the sweltering heat of April and into the air conditioned insides of the banquet hall. I lost my breath when I noticed the insides. With pale pink walls, white marbled floors, high ceilings, low lying, intricate and grand chandeliers, and a wall of three giant windows that were functioning as the only light source it looked like a ballroom from a Disney movie. I was in awe. That’s the only adjective that I could think of to describe my feelings. I guess Brendon took Monica Gellar’s words to heart and went all out to give Sarah her perfect wedding.

The circular tables with pale yellow and stark white table cloths and a centre piece of pink and red flowers arrangement hosted the guests. At the north wall, the groom and the bride sat with their posse, the west wall was the window wall and had the buffet line, the east wall had a bar, and the south wall housed the entrance. I could hear the clicks of my heels as I walked across the wooden floor in search for my seat.

I found mine and it was in the groom’s peripheral vision line, great. I was hoping to have one awkward eye contact and one forced conversation and I was done with both of them. I had caught him just before he had to walk down the aisle and wait next to evangelist and shared an intense and awkward eye contact for 10 seconds when the evangelist asked to come forward and recite any qualms that one might have regarding the holy matrimony of Brendon and Sarah.

We had always joked about how he would put on a fake wedding as a front and burst in like his entrance from ‘I write sins not tragedies’ music video during that part of our wedding.

He and I were always super cheesy and dramatic. I suppose the universe gets off my pain. No wonder we don’t get along.

I stared at the cursive font of my place card as the best man and the maid of honor gave their respective speeches with clichéd versions of Brendon and Sarah’s already fairytale-esque love story. I was fingering the rim of the champagne flute that was in front of me when I felt a presence next to me.

“Is this seat reserved?” Asked a sharply dressed Spencer and I couldn’t help but smile at his adorableness. “No.” I replied without looking up at him. The chair scarped back and Spencer placed himself on it. He was facing me, of course he was. He wanted to talk, ‘Wow! You are full of observations and deductions today, Sherlock.’ The voice in my head spoke, more like sneered.

“How are you?” Spencer asked after a short and awkward silence. ‘Suck it up and talk to him. He never wronged you.’ The voice reasoned. Now it uses its gentle tone, great. I closed my eyes and forced myself to shut up. “I am well. What about you?” I spoke after opening my eyes. I could feel my mascara coated eyelashes separating from each other as I did that. From my peripheral vision, I could see Spencer smiling. He ducked his chin into his chest and scratched the nape of his neck. “I’ve been better, to be honest.” Spencer spoke as he pulled his head up. That was Spencer for you, he was brutally honest and never sugarcoated anything, especially when it came to him.

“Still brutally honest, I see.” I noted and finally, finally averted my eyes from the flute and my clear coat covered pointer finger’s nail and chanced a glance in his general direction. “Still your cherry self, does it ever get tiring, being that happy?” Spencer sassed and for the first time since my arrival to the public display of my heart break, I laughed.

Spencer smiled a mega watt smile when he heard me laughing and placed his right elbow of the table, causing the table cloth to crease, and leaned against it. Spencer loved making me laugh, he had admitted to it on countless occasions. “God, I still love that laugh.” Spencer remarked.

“Don’t let Hayley hear that.” I replied without missing a beat and leaned back to rest my back against the back rest of my chair with a smile on my dark red lips. This was us, we were chilled, easy going, we were basically hippies without the psychedelic drugs flowing through our veins. Well, no drugs flowed through my veins anyway.

“I, uh, I and Hayley broke up.” Spencer spoke after he recovered from the shock of hearing his ex’s name. “Oh,” My stumped brain managed to get the exclamation past my lips. “I, um, I am sorry.” I paused and gulped as I uttered my apology. Spencer smiled his smile that caused millions of fan girls to swoon and die in the same comment on social media everywhere and shrugged it off. “It doesn’t matter. I am perfectly happy now.” Spencer smiled a close lipped smile to punctuate his sentence. His eyes were twinkling with happiness. His beard dotted, pale cheeks were colored a pale red due to the sudden rush of blood. He seemed happy, really happy. The kind of happiness that one experiences when they are with someone whom they want to murder, but don’t cause they’ll miss the dead too much, he was in love, genuine, proper love.

“You know your right hand doesn’t count as a girlfriend, right?” I questioned in a joking manner and felt his knuckles bruising my bare upper arm. I moved to rub it, to soothe the supposed wound. “Oh stop it! It wasn’t even that hard.” Spencer commented after seeing my over the top antics, but his words held a weight of concern to them. Spencer was the elder brother that I deserved but not the one that I needed, I had Ryan to fill that department. He was my cousin, but he was still my brother.

“How is Ryan?” Spencer asked the dreaded question after asking me about Jon, his voice held pain and confusion.  I knew it was coming. I was prepared to face this question ever since I got the invitation 2 months ago, but now that it was actually happening in real life and not in my head during a steamy shower where I controlled both aspects of this difficult conversation, my heart started thudding and my mouth became dry as every answer took a flight.

That night in Cape Town had left its dark mark, of varying degrees, on all of us. Spencer lost one of his best friends and a brother. I lost my boyfriend and my friends, Jon lost 3 of his close friends, and Brendon lost his best friends and lover.

“He is doing well.” I lied through my teeth. I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him how utterly broken and sad Ryan is; how much he misses them.  How he cries himself to sleep every night because he misses them so much. I am, generally, a very sulky person, but I suck at delivering bad news. I am not built for it.

“You always were a shitty liar.”

After speaking for a few more minutes, Spencer took his leave and Brendon replaced him. After exchanging pleasantries, congratulations, and quick summaries of our time apart, Brendon brought up the one topic that I had been trying to avoid all night, our past.

We didn’t have a clean break up, far from it actually. It was messy, almost brutal, words were exchanged, and insults thrown in the air. Our actions were less than graceful. We, also, never got closure.

Brendon sending me his wedding invite was the first time he had reached out to me in four years. “Brendon,” I started with a sigh, a pain started surging through my head. “No, wait, just hear me out.” Brendon practically pleaded, his words held a sense of urgency. A hundred and fifty people at this wedding and not one of them is wondering where the groom is. The universe really needs to stop getting off my pain.

“Look, things were said and actions were carried out and I just want you to know that I am not proud of the way I acted. I should’ve been more mature about it, but I was doing so many drugs back then that I couldn’t differentiate between right and wrong. I was horrible to you when I had no right to be horrible. You were extremely kind to me during our relationship and I treated you like shit after the release of fever and I am so sorry. You apologized after every single fight, you stayed up worrying about me all those nights when I stumbled through the front door late at night, you slept on the couch so many times, and sometimes, you didn’t sleep at all because the drugs were causing me to have hallucinations and I was scared and confused. You held my hand through everything for so, so long. You refused to believe that I was cheating on you when everyone was telling you that I was. Even when they showed you compelling evidence, you still refused because you trusted me so damn much, and I only broke that trust. I took your heart and poisoned it. I was a shitty human being back then. You said ‘I love you’ to me so many times and I never once said it back to you. I broke you, I damaged mentally and physically and, I just…” And at this point of his rant-apology, Brendon’s voice cracked, his eyes filled with tears, and he took a shuddering breath through his quivering lips to stop himself from crying. He ran a hand through his hair after ducking his chin into his chest. He was breathing heavily, hyperventilating.

For the second time in 7 years, I saw the broken Brendon Urie, the raw, scared version underneath all of the pretence and the faux primadonna.

“Brendon,” I started as I uncrossed my legs. On numb legs, I got up and crouched in front of the shaking groom. “Bren,” I placed my hand on his right knee and he placed his hands on top of mine. “I am sorry, I am so sorry for being such an ass to you. I am sorry for never saying I love you to you.” Brendon burst and practically bawled his words out. He was shaking uncontrollably and his tears were streaming down his clean shaven cheeks. His eyes were red rimmed and his lips looked darker than usual, probably because he had eaten his dead skin off by biting his lips out of nervousness, an old habit of his. His condition caused my heart to ache.

I had hated Brendon for so long that his very name ignited a ball of fury in my core. I was so bitter, but crouching here in front of him on the night of his wedding, I decided to forgive him.  

“Brendon, I forgive you.” I spoke in the most convincing tone that I could muster through the crack in my voice. “Do you?” He asked in a soft and broken voice. He looked at me through the lashes that curtained his brown eyes. He looked so tired and broken. I nodded as my eyes filled with tears. I pressed my lips together and worded it out. “I do, I forgive you for everything.” A weight lifted off my chest and suddenly I could breathe properly, which was weird considering that Brendon had just pulled me into a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you, fuck, thank you so much.” Brendon mumbled into my shoulder. I smiled against his tuxedo clad collar bone.

Sure I still loved him and watching him with Sarah hurt, but I couldn’t control it. He is happy with her and that should bring me enough solace. We pulled away from each other and smiled after taking in each other’s crying faces. It felt good. It feels like I was drowning and someone came along and finally saved me.

“I should go and have my first dance with my beautiful wife.” Brendon said and started getting up. I got up as well, my numb legs and knees threatened to drop me like a bag a potatoes, and moved aside after making a remark about how I am taller than Brendon in heels. He whined a little and lightly punched me. “She really is beautiful, by the way.” I said and he smiled before he started retreating.

Years and years of negativity and hatred and all it took was a tear jerking rant to find peace, maybe the universe didn’t hate me after all. “I did love you at one point, I just never told you cause I was a piece of shit back then.” Brendon remarked halfway through his retreat.

The ballroom was empty. No wonder people didn’t come up to us, everyone was out on the fairy lights lit patio, waiting for the first dance to be shared between the bride and the groom. I smiled a small, sad smile.

“I’ll always love you.”

You know what, I spoke too soon, the universe does hate me.

J��K#�

She did so well! She didn’t bark at Remi at all. She did a lot of whining though. Turns out the whining because she wanted to play. She sniffed him all over. Unfortunately they couldn’t play because Remi is an old man that had hip surgery last year. He’ll probably need the other hip done eventually. Maeby would play too rough for the fragile boy. She listened to me & payed attention to me. She sat & laid down when asked. A year ago I couldn’t get her attention in the presence of another dog. She would bark & lunge. We have worked hard on commands & walking nicely on a leash. Hard work & perseverance. Things don’t change over night. It’s okay if it takes longer than you’d like. Just keep at it & do your best.