Make me do your work everyday and cause cats to get sick? I'll catch you in your lies and get you fired.
This woman who I’ll call Tootles worked with me at an animal shelter as cat caretakers. We work opposite days and the first thing that she did to piss me off was telling me she had cleaned under furniture/restocked/refilled cleaning bottles. She sneakily just made it clean enough that you couldn’t tell she was barely doing anything all day. It would take me at least 30 min to an hour everyday to clean all the stuff that she hadn’t done the day before, and I had to do that in addition to my already extremely busy job. So some days I’d have to stay late, and I have two jobs so I’m always exhausted, and then I have a 45 min drive home where I’m blasting music and chain smoking just to stay awake.
I tried to tell my boss about this but she said that I need to have a better attitude, and that I was complaining too much about Tootles. She only told me this bc she’s a jerk most of the time and she didn’t want to deal with all the hassle of finding a new employee in a rural area.
Basically, when you have 20 cats housed in multiple rooms, it becomes a breeding ground for disease and infections. The point of cleaning every single surface and under the furniture with chemicals is to kill these germs and what not. After I started working there she got lazier and never did a single thing that she thought wouldn’t be noticed since my boss had no problem with what she was doing to me.
Because she wasn’t cleaning according to procedure, we now have almost every single cat (except the older ones with strong immune systems) come down with an upper respiratory tract infection. We have to now take those sick cats and quarantine them. For each cat, we have to now put on a gown, booties, gloves, and a mask if we are even going to touch them. These are all single use, extremely wasteful, and very expensive, but required by law. We also have to give them meds two or more times a day for the uri. This takes even more time(3x the amount of time I’d need to take care of a healthy cat. I knew immediately that the outbreak was her fault for not cleaning and the boss was very angry at the whole situation, wondering why this is happening. So before I leave I take tiny cat toys and hide them under every single thing shes supposed to clean under. I then make tiny marks with sharpie on all the kennels she has to scrub( we use a chemical that would dissolve the sharpie, and then rinse out and dry the cage so the cats paws aren’t affected.) I also put tiny marks on the bleach bottles showing how much was in them so I’ll also have proof she’s not cleaning the toilets. I come to work the day after hers and surprise surprise the same amount of bleach, sharpie marks still on kennels, all the toys still where I left them. So I tell my boss what I’ve done, I was nervous she would say I was kinda psycho but she said I should have done this sooner and yelled at me a bit(I told you this was happening already.). We sign a log required by law and we have to initial that we completed every single thing so boss just calls her up, asks if she’s actually done these things, which if she just admitted to being lazy she could have just been yelled at and kept her job. She lies and says she always follows procedures so boom she’s fired for lying about doing her work. It’s been like 3 months, she’s still out of a job I think, and the outbreak of disease amongst the cat has completely cleared up. She apparently really loved her job based on her fb so idk why she’d be so lazy and cause the cats suffering like that.
Alright, sweeties! A bit of a different post from me today! I have been meaning to make this for awhile, since I haven’t seen anyone organize their grimoire the way I do, I thought this could certainly be helpful for someone!
First, let’s talk about the book itself! I don’t use a blank book or a notebook. I wanted a graph paper notebook this size, but just couldn’t find one! So, after watching this video, I was SO inspired, I could just MAKE the whole thing! So, we went out and bought a used book, a pack of graph paper and a glue stick. This was SO freeing because I make pages before I put them in, I write in pencil, then I go over it in fine Sharpie pen, erase pencil marks, and then glue the page in when I’m finished. That way, I don’t have this fear of “messing it up” (even though I think messing up things is part of the fun sometimes!).
So if you like to be organized, I might be stressing you out. I understand. Organization is something I love and need in my life. I’ve seen so many folks using binders for their grimoires, but it wasn’t my style. I wanted it to all be sort of chronological, but also organized??? My answer to this– COLOR CODING. Ever section (energy, astrology, spells, candles/incense, etc) has a different color that I make on the side facing outwards, along with the category written on the side. This way, if I’m looking for something in particular, I can flip through and find it, no problem!
Secondly, I use ENVELOPES. Alright, I love astrology. Astrology is something I want to have a lot about in my book, but also I don’t want to take it up my entire book with this. So envelopes were my answer for this! I water-colored each envelope in a color suit that felt fitting to each of the elements, and drew on the constellation, glued those bad boys in, and BAM, I have WAY more room to add things about signs because I can just stick ‘em in their designated envelopes.
In addition, I like using/decorating with things from the internet, magazines, etc. This is YOUR book, your documentation of learning, your personal reference. Don’t be afraid to go off the ‘traditional’ leather bound, calligraphy written, beautiful grimoires if that isn’t your style! It doesn’t make it ANY less witchy or magical to use highlighters, friends! Don’t be afraid, no one can tell you what is right or wrong when it comes to YOUR grimoire!
Also, I would LOVE to see your grimoires, so tag me in your photos!!
Summary: In which you live in a world where one stroke of a pen against your skin is a signage of forever, and Min Yoongi just has really good timing Genre: Fluff with a touch of Angst, Soulmate!AU where when you write something on your skin with pen/marker, it will show up on your soulmate’s skin as well Word Count: 7,276 Author’s Note: I have officially joined the Soulmate!AU train of writers, and I hope this is worthy enough for that title. The original story was meant to be super short and super sweet, but of course I just kept adding more and more ideas into this and… this is the end result. Little warning, it is mainly Yoongi/Reader with a side of Jungkook/Reader so… take that as you will.
The first time images appear on your skin, you are 12 and have absolutely no idea why. Questions spring up in your mind like wildfire—alarming and so completely out of your control that you perform what could only be politely labeled as a scream before you dash to the bathroom, rubbing roughly at the skin of your arm until the flesh turns bright red. The marks, however, do not fade away.
Taking in a few sharp inhales, you collect your thoughts long enough to carefully study the marks that have been embedded into your skin—ink underneath the flesh that you carefully run your finger across. The end product looks to be a night sky along your forearm. There is a half-crescent moon and lazy stars dancing across the way; twinkling lines and hazy shapes and thick lines like they had been drawn with a sharpie.
For some odd reason, the longer you stare at the drawing, you don’t feel the panic settling back into your nerves. Rather, you feel more calm, peaceful, as if staring at the face of familiarity, like these drawings of half-crescent moons and 6 pointed stars genuinely mean something to you. Or at least, they hold enough significance that you don’t scream or continue trying to rub away the spots.
Your mother comes bounding into the room shortly after, startled by your scream until she sees the source of your apprehension and her lips curl up into a soft and understanding smile. It is right then and there, when she takes your arm, soothingly running her thumb up and down the expanse of the night sky that she spins the narrative of fate, destiny, and the universe.
She tells you that the moment people are born, they are instantly bound with another, tied together by some predetermined string, gifting you with someone you are meant to spend the rest of your life with. Someone who fit against every curve, someone who loved you in every aspect no matter what. Someone who would look at you, and you could just feel the weight of their stares like none other—set all your nerves on fire with just a single touch, leave you knowing without a doubt that that person was the one you were meant to spend your life with.
Summary: The whole “you see color when you touch your soulmate” deal. It’s fluff (and smut. There’s some in there).
A/N: Thank you thank you thank you for reading. You’re all too cool for me.
At least it was Friday.
You just had to get through a day of work, then you could come home and binge-watch
Netflix. The entry level job you had been
given was not challenging, and you spent a majority of your time reading or
listening to music. Though it was tedious
it paid well, and you couldn’t complain about being able to make rent for
“Your shirt and pants don’t match.”
You sighed. Your
cubicle-mate had recently met her soulmate, and every day for the past week she
had criticized your choice of outfit.
Coffeeshop AU where Grantaire is an asshole barista and misspells his customer’s names all the time. It’s the small glint of happiness in his day when he can laugh at a customer overreacting to a sharpie mark on a cup.
He does this the first time Enjolras comes in too. Except Enjolras fucking goes up to him and clearly spells his name and tells him for future reference.
If only he were a good person. Because the next time Enjolras comes in Grantaire purposely spells it wrong.
And Enjolras gives him shit for that last one because oh come on that’s not even a name.
But it works because Enjolras starts frequenting the cafe and Grantaire is happy to rile him up if only to get the beautiful man to talk to him.
if you have any x-files feelings that you want to fic out, this is your prompt!
Once—they might have been a little drunk, the two of them and an off-brand six pack, a sticky motel comforter, the window unit gurgling and grinding—they make a map. It was bought along with the six pack, and Dana thinks the owner of the corner store probably should have warned them about drinking and driving, but he just eyeballed them and rang up one six pack, one driving map.
Anyway, it’s one of those foldout Rand McNally maps, all the highways laid out and every state a different color. Georgia is a kind of off-orange, and Mulder whips out a red sharpie, marks—vaguely the spot where Senoia should be. Your turn, he says, grinning, and it’s the grin that makes Dana think he must have been the bane of every teacher’s existence grades one through twelve, because what the hell are you supposed to do with a kid so smart he’ll dismantle all reality to see how it works?
My turn for what, Mulder? she asks. The beer is sweating in her hand, and she can feel the wetness of it trickling down her wrist.
To mark somewhere we’ve been, Scully. Afterwards, you can put it in your scrapbook. A memento.
I don’t scrapbook, Dana says, but she takes the sharpie from Mulder’s hand anyway. Studies the map and then draws an X, right over St. Paul, Minnesota. The map’s not detailed enough for her to pick out Clyde Bruckman’s apartment complex, but she wishes she could. ‘X’ marks the X-file, right?
Rest in peace, Mulder says quietly, and doesn’t need to specify who he means. He’s uncharacteristically gentle when he takes the sharpie from her fingers. For a moment he studies the map, then draws an X over Dudley.
Never again, Dana swears, and Mulder laughs.
What, you don’t crave some Chaco Chicken?
Seriously, Mulder? she scoffs, and there’s a brief fight for the sharpie before he surrenders it to her again.
They go back and forth like that for a while, arguing good-naturedly about exactly which DC case they’re talking about, and whether the Piper Maru should be marked in the middle of the Pacific or not. (Mulder is the one to draw the X over Skyland Mountain, and they say nothing. He just squeezes Scully’s knee, and passes her the sharpie again.)
They’re slowing down when the motel alarm clock flips to midnight with an audible click. Scully has mostly given up, and has stretched out on the bed, letting Mulder mark the rest. Rockville. Aubrey. Bend. Delta Glen. It’s surprising the details he remembers. She could write you a novel about motel rooms like this one, tacky motel comforters and Mulder, whose hair is falling in his eyes, and who has a smudge of red sharpie ink on his finger.
He missed a spot on his jaw, shaving. She wouldn’t have noticed, but she’s looking up at him, Mulder with the shitty overhead lighting haloing his head. His hair is falling in his eyes, and she’s resisting the urge to reach out a hand and push it away. X marks the spot, she could say, tapping his forehead. It’s all in your head, Fox.
Hey, Mulder, which one was your favorite? she asks instead.
Favorite what, Scully?
Your favorite place. All those ‘X’s, you’ve got to have a favorite.
He smiles at her, a little absently. Oh, you know me, Scully, he says. Tomorrow, the map will have vanished, inexplicably, and Dana won’t see it again until she drops by Mulder’s apartment with a stack of files, finds it framed and hanging above his couch. I’m not really very sentimental.
On April Fools Day the whole team dresses up as Dex.
Nursey waits until Dex is dressed and leaves the attic before texting everyone a description of what he’s wearing and imitating the outfit himself. As was the plan, Dex doesn’t notice at team breakfast that they’re all wearing red flannels over forest green t-shirts, despite the snickering coming from Chowder’s end of the table (Chowder, who is still wearing his Sharks hoodie under his Dex costume).
Over the course of the day, they add more and more “freckles” to their arms. Eventually the freckles start appearing on their faces. Nursey shows up to their biology gen ed COVERED in little Sharpie marks. Dex still doesn’t seem to notice.
They’re supposed to have a team dinner that night. There’s record attendance, and although he points this out, Dex still says nothing about his twenty-odd doppelgangers. Ransom, Holster, Lardo, Shitty, and Jack also show up wearing flannels and green t-shirts and covered in artificial freckles.
They’re all stuffed into the living room after dinner, and Dex goes to the bathroom. When he comes back, they’re all wearing truly ridiculous red wigs and staring at the doorway, waiting.
He’s looking at something on his phone when he walks in, and everybody just stares at him in silence as he makes his way over to his seat between Nursey and Tango.
He looks up. “Why is it so quiet in here all of a sudden?” he asks casually.
“Dex. Um. Babe.” Nursey gestures vaguely around the room.
Dex looks around at his teammates and his brows knit together. Nursey’s about to start laughing because /Oh, he finally got it!/ when Dex says, “What are you trying to tell me? I thought you were supposed to be good with words.”
Nursey sputters. “You don’t see…what we’re all wearing?”
Dex stares at him for a long time, a look of mild confusion on his face, until finally, he leans in close so that his lips are right by Nursey’s ear and says, completely deadpan, “April Fools.”
The Haus descends into chaos. Chowder starts babbling to himself. Ransom and Holster are jumping up and down, howling, “HOLY SHIT. BRO GOT US GOOD.” Jack and Bitty are looking at each other with eyebrows raised in surprise and amusement. Shitty has his face in his hands. Whiskey is laughing harder than anyone has ever seen him laugh. Tango looks confused. Lardo is the only one who claps. Nursey just blinks at Dex and the smirk on his lips.
Dex holds up his phone, open to the SMH group text. “You sent it to me, too, dumbass.”
Kurt comes home from a rare Saturday work day, eager to go out on a date with his husband. But he finds Blaine acting strange, withdrawn, with odd Sharpie marks all over his skin. (2100 words)
Okay, so, I’ve been a little down on myself, and this is something I’ve been toying around with. I just recently got motivated to finish it. This is something that actually happened to me a long time ago when I started modeling, I was just way sassier back then with how I handled it xD I don’t know for sure if they do it now, but to be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised. Warning for angst, body issues, self-esteem issues, and body shaming. Mention of Sam. Kurt and Blaine still attend NYADA, but Kurt works at Vogue.
“Hey, honey! I’m home!” Kurt announces while he struggles with
full hands to unlock the door to the loft. He’s relieved to finally be home. He
hates working on Saturdays. Saturdays and Sundays are the only days he and
Blaine get to spend 100% alone with each other. They turn off their phones,
stay in bed all day, ignore the occasional knocks on the door from friends who
can’t take a hint. Kurt loves his job at Vogue.
He loves his boss, Isabelle. But Saturdays are reserved for him and his husband.
Wolfstar au? Remus as a Starbucks barista Sirius hiring a flat nearby and going there everyday (Magic or not idc)
Oh I love this one. I wrote a little bit, and I might continue this story if people want me to. I’m a barista, so this honestly feels like home. Please enjoy the most cliche (and most realistic) coffeeshop meet cute ever.
The first time that Remus caught a glance at him, he’d over-steamed his milk. That shift being his first at bar and making drinks, it had taken him a minute to recall that the thing in his hand was a pitcher full of scalding hot liquid about to overflow. He hurriedly shut off the steamer wand, as he blushed and sheepishly continued making the stranger’s drink. He took a moment to glance back at the cup, ensuring he’d done everything correctly, before he popped the lid on to call out the order.
“Grande cascara latte for Cyrus?” Remus projected his voice through the bustling coffeeshop directly towards the stranger, who he’d been discreetly keeping an over-eager eye on since he’d ordered. He was surprised when the man didn’t move. He rechecked the hasty sharpie markings on the white cup before calling out the order a second time, with a little less confidence. This time Cyrus turned in slow realization, making his way to the counter.
“Thanks” it came softly from the handsome man with the stormy grey eyes that Remus was far too encapsulated by.
“Have a good one,” Remus replied, mechanically and quietly, distracted by the man and slightly saddened by the thought of him leaving, his eyes sinking to the counter.
“It’s Sirius by the way.” The handsome man took the barista by surprise, causing him to look back up suddenly enough to catch a, “Not Cyrus,” and a wink so small he wasn’t sure it had even happened.
The second time these two saw one another, Sirius had come solely for the purpose of attempting to cure what he’d officially dubbed “the worst hangover scientifically possible.” It had been a trying all-nighter with his best friend James, and after having just moved in to the flat across the street, this Starbucks was the only source of coffee he was currently capable of locating.
He didn’t recognize the cute barista from before until he peered at the cup he had taken up groggily to see the name “Cyrus” had been crossed out and replaced with “Sirius,” accompanied by a small smiley-face. He peered up from his coffee to see a fleeting glance followed by a blush and a sheepish smile. He knew he’d like the neighborhood.
It soon became a routine that the two would see one another every Wednesday afternoon, in no small part due to the (rather pricy) trial and error of Sirius, who had kept returning to the coffeeshop across the street every day until he knew when he could come in for a drink from his favorite barista. He always came when it was slow, always took a little longer thanking Remus for the drink, and somehow even managed to take his time putting the sleeve on his weekly latte just so he could stay an extra few seconds. Every employee working at that Starbucks had realized what was going on almost immediately, save Remus, of course.
So naturally, on a foggy day in April, Remus was the only one with no idea what was going on when Sirius accepted his latte more quickly than usual, only to sit down at one of the nearby tables, pull out a sketch pad, and begin to furiously draw. All of his coworker’s seemed less than surprised by this development, but it sent Remus on a train of thought that would have him distracted and messing up little things even after the mysterious Sirius had left.
It got to the point where he’d almost wiped up all the tables with the can of whipped cream instead of cleaner when he noticed it lying out on the table at which Sirius had situated himself. It was a beautiful sketch, of him smiling from underneath his work hat, clearly drawn over the course of Sirius’ time in the coffeeshop. Remus picked it up gently, as not to smudge the artwork, and peered at the careful sketchy strokes, put down by practiced hands. His eyes wandered around the picture until they settled on the signature in the lower right hand corner. Wait. That’s not a signature at all. It was a number: “867-5309.” Remus got the sense that this was the beginning of something amazing.
Author’s Note: This chapter is brought to you by delayed NYC subway trains, a bored Kat at a baseball game, lunch breaks at work, and one brief NYC heatwave. I hope you enjoy yet another political, PCY POV chapter. I find I enjoy changing the perspectives and shaking up the writing style slightly. Hope you enjoy! <3
The night always surprises him, how vibrant and electric it is. Even as a human, he preferred the darkness and felt at peace in its cold embrace - much like being held by water. When he feels introspective and bitter, he thinks this is why death eluded him. He’d made a home of the shadows, so all encompassing and whole, that there was nowhere left for him to go - nowhere else his soul could belong; rejected by the afterlife into the arms of night.
ur new pack is rlly cool and im prob overreacting nd being a b*tch but um those sharpie marks r supposed to mean that the person is straight edge aka they dont use drugs or smoke or drink alcohol, nd some are even celibate. srry it kinda bothered me bc the description says its called "bad habit" and it makes ur sim "trashier" when it pretty much means the opposite??? again srry i just know a lot abt punk subculture and wanted to share ://
Hello! You are not overreacting! The x’s were meant to be the x’s bouncers give you at the door if you are under 21 and can’t drink! I don’t know if they do the universally but where I’m from that’s what they do. The other swatches are writing on the arms meant to be from a sharpie. All of the items in the pack are named after song titles also not really related to the objects!!! Being straight edge is great and definitely not a bad habit so sorry for the miscommunication!
Cosplay Tutorial Thursday — CANDELA from Pokemon GO
I know I know, I meant to make this tutorial a while ago, but things got a bit hectic after the convention. Now onto the tutorial!
Step 1 Patterning - Time: Too long
This was by far the point that took the longest. I started off by sketching out some basic pattern ideas while at work one day to reference when I started to make the actual pattern, so here’s a reference for that…
Lovely right? Very rough but it helped to break down how many pieces this jacket is.
Next make a mockup out of some tracing paper or scrap mock up fabric (cotton scraps or muslin is normally what I use, even pieces of left over fabric from other cosplays) I used a women’s blazer to trace around to get a general idea of how the seams would lay, but a lot of it was me looking back at reference photos and the drawing I did.
As I made the pattern, I would staple it together in order to try it on and get a general idea of how it would lay. When I tried it on, I would use a sharpie and mark the jacket mock up with drawings of where I need to make darts, decorative seams, and where I needed to add more fabric.
Step 2 Fabric Cutting - Time: 1 hour
Trace your pattern onto your fabric (I got about 2yds of white Sateen sportswear fabric and 1.75yd of red Sateen fabric). The front jacket seams I did put a dart on both sides just under where my breasts are.
Cut the pieces out. I left a few inches of seam allowance when cutting my fabric, mostly because I wasn’t using fabric for my mock up and wanted room for error.
Cut out pieces of a light-medium weight interfacing to the front and back white pieces of the jacket. For the red pieces (the facing and triangle flap pieces), I only added interfacing to the red flap at the base of jacket.
Step 3 Sewing and Figuring out the Body Pieces - Time: ~10 hours? (Idk tbh)
This is the fun part. My main method was continually trying the jacket on and making marks with chalk or pins of what I needed to alter.
Start by sewing the back pieces together. Also sew all three front pieces together (separate of the back). With the front pieces, I’d recommend top stitching the seam just to give it a little more presence and to keep the fabric flatter.
When I would try it on for reference, I would pin the sides and shoulders together and I didn’t work on the sleeves till another step.
For the red facing and weird flap things at the bottom of Candela’s jacket: Cut two pieces of fabric that was like a rounded triangle (one piece should have a piece of interfacing) and then sew them together. Be sure to cut slips along the curved seams so the fabric lays flat when you flip it. Do this with an identical white piece.
To attach it to the jacket, place it the opposite way and line it up to the jacket edge, then sew it and flip it again (the image below sort of shows how the red piece was attached).
As an added bonus, I sewed on some small basic pockets (just rectangles of fabric) to the inside facing of the red facing before I attached it to the jacket base.
***LEAVE THE TOP AREA (from the black buttons up) UNSEWN!!! YOU’LL SEW IT WHEN YOU SEW YOUR COLLAR ONTO THE JACKET IN THE NEXT STEP***
Step 4 Quilted Collar from Hell - Time: 3 hours (I’m just making up numbers at this point; it took a long time -_-)
I was lucky in the fact that I have encountered quilted cosplays before (Noctis I’m looking at you) so I’m only gonna skim over what I did with the collar and if you want more information on the technique, refer to the post I made when doing Noctis’s tutorial.
The collar is wide at the ends that fold in front and smaller around the neck. I’m gonna say it was roughly a 2:1 ratio in the fact that the wide part was twice as wide as the neck part.
I figured the pattern out then used the quilting technique mentioned to create the 5 stiches that decorate the collar. Be sure not to have the fabric pucker as you sew, least you have to redo it (*coughs it’s not fun to seam rip this part, just don’t do it -_-)
Step 5 Sewing this Son of a Pidgey Together
After getting each piece figured out for the main body (aka NO SLEEVES yet) just sew that sucker together at the sides and shoulders and give it a try on to see how it lays. Again a lot of my process was just trying it on, seeing what was not fitting then attempting to fix it. Not a very helpful tutorial right? ^^;
Step 6 Sleeves from Krazy Kanto
Sleeves uhm. Started with a basic sleeve shape, then tightened it so that it would fit my arm a bit more. I kept the sleeve ridiculously long (as I always seem to make sleeves too short). Before sewing it together, I laid out the pieces of red on the shoulders which sorta look like a large V with a large central rhombus with two smaller rhombi next to the top of the main rhombus .
I used a tight zigzag stitch on the red parts of the sleeve, though I wanted to do a hand satin stitch originally and would recommend that instead. Go slowly if machine stitching it, I figured out late in the sewing that slower resulted in much much much cleaner lines and less weird puckering.
For the edge of the sleeve, cut the sleeve to an appropriate length that will cover half of your hand. Then sew a rectangle of red fabric that’s about 4-5″ tall to the cuff of your sleeve (right sides together then flip it). I pinned the sleeve edges (the long seam) and pulled it onto my arm, then drew with a piece of sewing chalk a circle of where my thumb hole would be cut. DON’T CUT THE HOLE OUT YET!
Use a button stitch setting and sew around the circle mark you made for your thumb. Once it’s sewn, then carefully trim the inside circle of the thumb hole.
When your red V/diamonds are on and your thumb hole is finished, just sew the line of the sleeve together and attach it right side out to your jacket.
For the wrist bands, I sewed two rectangles and flipped them inside out and topstitched them. Then I hand stitched it to where I wanted it on the completed sleeve.
Step 7 Finishing the Queen and Gloves - Time: 1 hour
Final steps where just attaching two decorative black buttons to the right side of the jacket flap and adding a few snaps and hooks and eyes to various places on the jacket to keep it closed.
Her skirt I just made a simple rectangle of fabric with several darts in the top then attached it to a waistband and sewed in a hook and eye.
The gloves I used that tutorial that floats around of using knit fabric and just tracing your hand on the fabric then sewing around the tracing and trimming it.
That’s about it!
Happy sewing and Pokemon Go Walking and feel free to send an ask if you have any questions!
“Why do I have to be his soulmate?” She chokes out.
“You have to be his soulmate, because thats your destiny,” Luke says quietly, wrapping his arms around her. His mind begins to race with questions about not being good enough, but he pushes them back. Right now his soulmate needs him. “Its like how the world turns, and how the bird fly south in the winter, its their destiny. I bet if you gave him a chance, it wouldn’t be so bad,” Luke says softly. Y/N’s hands tighten in his shirt.
“I don’t want to be famous,” She cries out. She tugs on Luke’s shirt more, he is sure it will rip soon.
“It’s okay baby,” The words slip from Luke’s mouth easily. He says it as a whisper, only meant for her. He presses his lips to her forehead.
She looks up, her eyes glassy. He watches her eyes as they change in recognition. She scrambles back to the end of the bed. “I’m sorry,” She whispers, swiping a stray tear from her cheek.
“No, it’s okay,” Luke whispers, edging closer to her. “It’s my dream to be famous, not yours,” He whispers, edging closer again. She watches the inches between them disappear. Luke sees her muscles tighten, ready to flee if necessary. The thoughts of not being enough are back and flooding his mind. Luke struggles to stay focused on her, like he should be. “Y/N,” He whispers, and every single one of her muscles tighten again, preparing herself like a cat ready to spring.
“It’s not okay…Luke,” She says recognizing who it is in the room with her. It would never be okay with her. “How am I supposed to do this?” She asks, the tears welling up in her eyes again.
“No, no, you don’t have to do anything. We are doing this together.” Luke says, taking her hands. He wraps them in his own and gives a small squeeze. Her body relaxes back into the bed. She nods like a small child, willing to believe anything their parents say. “Look, look at what is written on this skin,” Luke pulls his shirt sleeve up to show faded sharpie marks of their short conversations. He had been washing around his arm for the past week, trying to preserve the little conversation they had. Luke had dozens of photos on his phone of the text in its prime. “It’s you and me, baby. Forever.”
“What if I can’t do this? I can’t handle the pressure,” She cries out, trying to convey how broken she is. She is trying to tell him how she can’t do it.
“It’s okay, It’s okay, we’ll start slow okay?” Luke rushes to say, trying to quiet her down again. Trying to stop her tears. “We can’t be apart. So your just gonna come on tour with us okay? We don’t have to tell anyone who you are, we don’t have to tell anyone, okay? All you need to do is be on the tour bus with us,” Luke says gently, trying to get her to agree. She nods numbly. Y/N is still shaking a little.
“Do you want to go to the tour bus now?” Luke asks. Y/N gives a nod. “Okay,” Luke stands, and pulls Y/N up with him. Y/N quickly looks around for her bag, but Luke grabs her face and focuses her attention back to him. “I’ll get our bags later, okay?” Y/N gives an approving nod and they move out of the room, one hand on Y/N’s back.
The two of them pass Ashton in the hall. Once he see’s Y/N’s red eyes and tear strewn face he opens his mouth to say something, but Luke quickly gives him a look. Ashton ducks his head and moves to his room to pack.
When Ashton gets to his room he grabs Emily by her arm and spins her around to face him. “Wha- Hey Ashy!” She says with a big smile. She quickly spots his serious mood and her smile fades. “What’s wrong?” She asks, her body at attention. Emily is a helper, that is who she is. She lives to make people smile and happy, much like Ashton. Ashton tells he what he saw in the hall.
Emily quickly starts going down the stairs to try and catch Luke and Y/N to try and help when she bumps into Mikey right outside of her door.
“Hey, Em, What do you think of Blue? Because Jackie says- Hey! why ya in such a rush?” Michael asks Emily. Emily looks up, panic in her eyes. Michael quickly jumps into action. “Are you okay? Emily? Do I need to get Ash?” He asks quickly. Emily rarely panics, so to see her in such a jumpy state was rare. Emily is more of a calm helper.
“No, it’s Y/N, Ashton saw Luke taking her out to the bus-“
“Let me finish Mikey! She was crying, I want to go see if I can help,” Emily moves to walk around Michael, but he quickly grabs her arm and pulls her back.
“No, I’m sure Luke’s got it,” Michael says, but he wasn’t so sure. His and Luke’s rooms are next to each other, and he thinks that he heard some crying in there. Maybe even a panic attack, Michael thinks, remembering the heavy breathing and the yelling. Michael pushes Emily back into the open door to her room, “Just stay here, Luke’s got it,” Michael promises, leaving her there.
Michael walks back to his room. He knows what panic attacks are like, and Emily doesn’t, he would be much better helper. Michael just wants to check on Jackie first. He opens the door to the room to see Jackie with her checklist, making sure that everything was packed. Jackie may be punk rock, but she is secretly like Monica from Friends. Always has a list in her hand. “I’m going to head down to the bus,” Michael announces to Jackie.
“What? I thought we were gonna ‘do it’ one more time!” Jackie says, protesting.
Michael shakes his head. “I would love to, but I think Y/N needs me,” Michael tries to explain.
“Why would Y/N need you?” Jackie says, getting immediately defensive.
“Not like that baby, I think she had a panic attack,” Michael says, grabbing Jackie’s hips and pulling them into his.
“Is she with Luke?” Jackie asks, knowing that only a soulmate could calm down Y/N. Jackie had been there for a few of Michaels most recent panic attacks, and it seems like Jackie always knew the best thing to say to help him calm down. It’s odd that anybody can calm Michael down too, considering he likes to be alone when he’s having a panic attack. “Then everything is okay, okay babe?” Jackie says. She pulls away from Michael and sits him down on the bed. “Finish packing,” Jackie demands, handing him a list.
Jackie walks out of the room feeling more nervous then ever. Even though she has only known Y/N for a night, she just fits in so well with the girls…. Jackie walks over to Alex, and Calum’s room for reassurance from Alex. Jackie knows if she tells Michael just how nervous she is about Y/N he would storm down to the bus to try and help, which could just make things worse. Also, sometimes people just need their best friend.
“Hey,” Alex says opening the door.
“Y/N had a panic attack!” The words rush out of Jackie’s mouth. She is the worst at keeping secrets.
“What? Is she okay?” Alex says quickly, moving out of the room and into the hall. Y/N had told the girls that she will sometimes get bad panic attacks when she is really stressed out, and they are like hell for her. She also mentioned that she is scared to be soulmates with Luke, something that all the girls kinda just breezed over.
“I don’t know Luke took her down to the bus,” Jackie says, and Calum walks up behind them.
“What happened?” He says, oblivious to what was going on.
“Y/N had a panic attack,” Alex says, filling in her soulmate.
“Does Luke know?” Calum says. The girls give him a ‘duh’ look and Calum puts his hands up in surrender. “She is probably fine then. Luke’s got this,” Calum says, trying to reason.
Suddenly, two more doors open on the floor at the same time. Michael stood in one door and Emily stood in another with Ashton behind her. Everyone froze in the hall, they all know what’s going on and want to help, but all frozen, knowing that Luke is the only one who can truly help. Like a movie, they all walk to meet in the center of the hall.
“I have to go down there and help,” Michael says, about to turn away when Jackie, his soulmate, grabs his arm.
“No, we can’t” Jackie says. “Luke is her best bet,” She says.
“I think we should go down there!” Emily says to the circle. He motherly instinct kicking in.
“Luke can handle it,” Calum says, his usually quiet voice rising over the rest. “Jackie knows it, and we all know it. You all will just overwhelm her,” Calum says from experience. The boys had helped Micheal out with his panic attacks before, and he would hate it when the three of them would crowed around him asking questions. They did it to try and help him, but it didn’t do so well with working.
The elevator chimes abruptly and the group looks over to see Luke walking out of the elevator. Everyone quickly jumps on him, not literally.
“Is Y/N okay?”
“Can we go see her?”
Their questions are sprung onto Luke, and he feels like he is at a press conference suddenly. He looks around the group, and with their frantic eyes, he figures that they all knew what happened. Luke takes a deep breath and begins to speak.
It started out simple enough. Neighbors usually become friends. And considering Harry has a nasty habit of bringing women back to his apartment, only to skip out on them the very next morning before they wake up, Y/N’s apartment across the hall was his best bet.
He’d been kind of skeptic moving into the swank London apartment building, especially knowing that someone lived just across the hall from him. But having a house at this age, especially when he had no one to share it with, just seemed ridiculous. And so he decided on a lavish apartment instead. His agent had told him that the girl the hall was hardly ever around anyway, and that had sold him.
But lucky for him, she was always there in the morning - just when he needed her.
It was at the point where Harry just had a key to Y/N’s flat now. Not that she minded much either. What would one of the wealthiest men in the world want with any of her trinkets anyway? She highly doubted he would steal anything, except her food which he seemed to take quite often.
It was rather early on a Sunday when Harry quickly slinked into Y/N’s warm and bright apartment, brimming with sunshine from the wall of windows overlooking the London landscape. His sudden entrance alerted her gaze from behind the kitchen bar, a magazine spread out before her as her hands warmed on a mug of warm chai.
“Morning,” she said, a small smirk adorning her face as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
Harry closed his eyes, running a hand over his face as he leaned against her door. His face tired, his short hair a mess, and his pajama pants hanging low on his hips.
“G’mornin,” he mumbled, standing up fully and stalking over to the kitchen where he opened Y/N’s fridge to grab the milk, reaching above on the top cabinet to grab the Cheerio’s box marked “H” in a big black Sharpie mark.
“Rough night?” Y/N asked, handing Harry a spoon as he sat down at a stool across from where she was standing, flipping through the magazine.
“It was good … I think.”
“What’s her name this time?”
“I believe it was Elizabeth,” Harry yawned and struggling to open the new cereal box without spilling cereal everywhere. “At least that’s what I wrote on the note asking she please leave before my cleaning lady gets in.”
“Oh, did you get a cleaning lady?” Y/N looked up, taking another sip from her mug.
“No,” Harry shook his head, “But I just wrote that my cleaning lady needs everyone gone by ten so she can do a deep clean. That sounds like a reasonable excuse to get her out, right?”
Y/N raised her arm to look at her watch. “Yeah. That gives her another good two hours.”
Hey guys! So. I thought I’d share something with you all. So me and my brother have been out Pokemon hunting every night since the game dropped. I can’t play during the day because the servers drop my phone when there’s a lot of traffic and also I live in Florida so its hot as hell and I don’t hate myself enough to go outside. Anyways I noticed a lot of people are also out playing at really odd hours and that a lot of them don’t wear reflective gear and/or are difficult to see. That’s super unsafe so I’ve come up with a small solution that will fit your Trainer Aesthetic
This is a reflective Pokeball sticker that I made to stick on our stuff to go out at night! I’m sharing how I made it so everyone can have a good time and stay safe. So here’s what you need.
God that’s actually one of the scariest things for me to write or publish on the internet because for some reason it feels even more shameful and like you will judge me than anything about my weight. (Which I guess is an eating disorder win, right?!)
And I realized, as everyone is panicking about bedbugs on Facebook and on the news right now, that potentially it wouldn’t be bad practice in honesty and using this blog that I rarely use anymore to help someone out there feel less alone, less ashamed, and less freaked out.
I got bed bugs. I spent a lot of money, but I survived. They’re gone (I am kind of superstitious so saying that feels like I am just asking them to come back but I’m going to write it anyway) and I can sleep again.
I lived with a roommate in South Philadelphia and we moved to a beautifully newly renovated bi-level apartment in March. It was pretty and there was a cool blue wall on the staircase (there still is, the apartment still exists) and we were pretty thrilled to be in a bigger, lighter place.
In May, my roommate started breaking out in what we thought were hives. She gets anxiety hives, and work was stressful, so we just chalked it up to that. She sent me and my mom pictures of her bumps and saw a doctor and we just assumed hives. I wasn’t having any reaction to anything, so it wasn’t much of a worry.
In June, when I was in California, Roommate called and told me she’d found a bug and it was a bed bug. Turns out they’re pretty easy to see, she found a live bug crawling on the bed and began calling exterminators. She found the Best in Philadelphia exterminator, and it would be 1200 dollars to heat-treat the whole apartment. I was in a wedding, so I tried not to think about it. We treated the apartment. I basically moved out to my boyfriend’s. I washed all our clothes in hot hot water. Skirts were shorter, shorts were a little tight, but hey, it was summer. We thought everything was fine.
Then, perhaps from Boyfriend’s job (in-home therapist) or from something I brought over, in August I was changing our sheets before a weekend in New York and saw a bug. And then I checked the corner of the bed, and there they were, those tell-tale little black dots. Like thin sharpie marks on our bed. And I panicked. And sobbed. And called the same exterminator who worked on the other apartment.
Bleh just writing about it is terrifying. So onto the next part of this entry. I obviously still have some bug PTSD (Excuse me while I start to feel itchy).
What to look for:
Not all bugs are bed bugs. Since the bed bug debacle, I have found a handful of bugs in/around my bed that I panic, send photos to my great exterminator, and are just normal house bugs. So make sure you identify it. Keep the bug in a plastic bag, tightly shut and call an exterminator and have them look at it. Check your bed when you change your sheets (I check weekly). Look for tiny black dots that smear a little when you touch them. They really look like sharpies. They like to stay on the seams of the bed or in the corners, but also check your mattress top for any blood stains. We found them early, a 3/10 infestation, and were able to fix it.
What to do:
Don’t do what I did. I freaked the fuck out. I sobbed and cried and rocked back and forth and read 18 hours of bed bug websites in the days after we found them. I would recommend not doing that. It did not help.
DO call the best exterminator. If you live in a city, there will be a bunch of exterminators who are good at bed bug extermination now. And do what they tell you. Bed bugs are sneaky little fuckers, and it’s worth spending the money to do the most effective treatment insteado using pesticides that won’t actually kill them and then you’ve wasted 300 some dollars and still have a bug problem. Don’t touch things, because bed bugs seem to have a way of knowing that you are going after them and if you alert them they could hide somewhere else and you have a bigger problem. Call a professional. It is worth the money.
Our exterminator was voted Best in Philly for bed bug extermination. They were extremely kind, unlike the large name companies I spoke with. And they did a multiple approach treatment: they did the heat treatment (basically they heated our entire apartment to 140-150 degrees for 8 hours, and every 15 minutes came in with these steam guns and steamed the shit out of the bed, corners, dressers, everywhere) and they also put pesticide in the walls so if any smart bed bugs went into the walls to avoid the heat, they’d die anyway.
What does the treatment entail?
Take everything out of the apartment that could melt. Take everything off the walls and push all furniture etc. 2 feet away from the walls. De-clutter (the boyfriend is crazy clean so that wasn’t a huge issue), take electric sockets off if possible, remove all animals for many days. Take all important valuables out. Bring all luggage out and open to be treated. Stay out of the house all day.
So on a Tuesday morning in the end of August, the bed bug killers came. We signed our life away, I handed most of my savings to the exterminator in cash (1,200 dollars). When I came back, it was 106 degrees inside and the apartment looked like it had been ransacked. Our neighbors were pretty curious, their walls were hot from our treatment. We said it was just termites. Everything was turned over, pulled out of drawers, pushed around from steamers and whatever else they did. One picture frame was broken, but small price to pay for bug-free-ness, I think. That night, we spent a few hours putting things back in order. I didn’t want to, in case we had to have ANOTHER TREATMENT because that one didn’t work. Boyfriend said that aws not reasonable. I found a cockroach hiding under a bag and flipped out, but the exterminator called me and was very kind and eventually I calmed down a little bit because he was confident they got them all and also, I have klonipin because i have an anxiety disorder.
In those three days, I took 14 klonipin. I usually take 1.5 per day. On the bug-finding day, I took 10. And was STILL panicking. Thank god for on-call psychiatrists.
The exterminator assured me we could keep our mattress.You pay the expensive money so that you don’t have to get a new mattress. But the room and the mattress were haunted to me now and there was no way I could do it. They don’t really tell you about the psychological PANIC that can accompany these critters. I had trouble going into our bedroom. We slept on an air mattress on the floor in the living room (I wouldn’t sleep on the couch because I had read too much about bed bugs and heard that they are attracted to your breath and I didn’t want them on the couch) for a week. I cleaned everything in the bedroom with bleach and vacuumed everything, standing in the room and crying and cleaning. Panicking. Anxiety and bugs and the internet are a pretty terrible combination.
So then we decided to just throw out the bed. It was labor day weekend, and there were sales, and I couldn’t get it together, so we thought we should just start fresh. So although I was panicky that we would transfer some surviving bed bugs from the bed onto our carpet (although they were all gone), we took the bed outside, I wrote DO NOT TAKE and drew a bug on it, and in a week or so it was gone. We went to a department store and bought a new mattress. I asked a lot of questions to the sale’s man about how they assure there will be no bed bugs on the mattress, especially since they deliver and pick up mattresses. He assured me the mattresses are wrapped in plastic and not opened from the warehouse to our apartment and the boyfriend reminded me things would be fine and I signed up for my first credit card and we bought a mattress.
And we also invested in a bed-bug cover that we put on the second the mattress was unwrapped. It keeps the bugs in? Or something? And shows their poop and stuff if you have them again, so they can’t get into the mattress. It was 50 dollars, my mother purchased it for us. I also got pillow covers. They’re itchy, but worth it, I think.
Also, we washed everything. I washed all of our clothes in burning hot water and through the dryer on super hot for an hour. Everything. Did things get ruined? Yes. Is it worth it for peace of mind? I think so. It sucks now because I can’t tell if my jeans are tight because I gained holiday weight or if they are tight from being washed in burning hot water and in the dryer for 2 hours for the first time ever. My nutritionist says I should just buy new jeans, so I think I’ll do that eventually.
Stay off of the websites. Seriously, do it. Be vigilant, obviously, and vacuum and check your bed, but the websites don’t help. I took sleeping pills for about a month and a half and checked the bed obsessively. My therapist and I worked on slowly checking less. I got down to once a week. Now I only check every month, when I make the boyfriend lift the mattress and I check every corner of the bed. I am sleeping without pills through the night. I put a pillow in the corner where the bugs were (they were on my side of the bed) still, but sometimes I forget to now. Unfortunately, boyfriend and I don’t show bites. But we had his parents visit us, and they do, and slept on our bed, bite-free. That was helpful.
We didn’t tell anyone, other than my close friends, because it’s so embarrassing and shameful and scary and anxiety provoking. But I kind of wish we had, because I don’t know who else has suffered and I now am a bed bug expert. I know what they look like and I know how to treat them.
I realize my survival method is dependent on income. We spent $1200 on treatment, $50 on clothes washing, $1100 on a new mattress, around $150 buying new things that I threw out (pillows, pillow covers, etc.). So total, we spent around $2500 total. And then if you include my therapy, which I was going to anyway but went to more, that was another 300 some dollars to make sure I got through the weeks without losing my shit. (And I still did). If you don’t have money, there are lots of ways to deal with them without spending your savings on it, at least the websites say so, but this is what worked for us.
So it’s been about six months, and we are bug free. I am sleeping again. I did make us change hotels in Vegas, buying a new hotel room on the plane with the wifi after realizing I hadn’t googled bed bugs in Vegas and there were a few alerts of them in the hotel that a friend had booked. Luggage does not go on beds ever anymore. Sometimes I have momentary PANIC when I’m in a public place (like this weekend when we were in the movie theatre watching Anchorman 2) but then I realize that even if, worst case scenario, it happened again? I know how to treat it. And it seems like it’s just something that is growing. So be careful, but don’t lose your mind. I survived them. You can too.