#she also has rent and gas to cover for her new job

[cowboyjen68]

Hi Jen.

I hope you're well. I was hoping you can possibly give me some general life advice?

I have the possibility to finally move away from home and live with a friend I've known for 8 years (I am 26). My homelife is allright and my dad is accepting of my sexuality but mildly transphobic to the point where I'm not out and don't feel comfortable bringing it up.

I have saved up a sum of money (above 5k) to fund this move but the only problem is I don't currently have a steady job. (I've freelanced for the past 3 but it's not enough to cover rent)

We'd be sharing the apartment and to get it I need to be on the lease. The idea of signing for something without steady income to cover it makes the alarm bells go off in my head. Me and my friend have discussed this and she assured me that she would cover the rent completely until I actually move in/find steady employment (her current apartment costs the same). We've also discussed what would happen if she were no longer able to afford the place and the full responsibility would fall on me, but she doesn't see that happening as she has her family to fall back on for that if she was suddenly unfit to work.

Am I right to still be wary? Should I just go along and sign the lease even though I'm really scared of the possible consequences? Should I just stop overthinking this and just enjoy this really good thing that's about to happen??

please let me know what you think

As a parent of several 25 year olds (3) and as a former 26 year old (long ago) I would say it is time to move out and try life as an independent adult. It sounds like you have a decent relationship with your parent(s) so if things went terribly wrong you would have a place to land.

There is never any guaranty in life that a roommate situation or even a living alone rental situation will go smoothly or as planned. It is almost a sure thing you and her will have to navigate some unforeseen incompatibilities or iron out some quirks to make cohabiting comfortable for both of you. It is part of life to learn how to negotiate needs and boundaries with other people. It starts as we become teens with our parents and then, for me, college roommates and then apartment living with 5 gay guys in the very early 90's.

I think you will find that the move to share rental space and responsibility will be mutually beneficial to both of you. It is best to not be financially reliant on each other, basically, with a short grace period to get moved and your feet under you, you should work to pay your fair share. It is a great idea that in the interim while you seek gainful employment you use the extra time to give a little more effort to the household. Extra cleaning, errands, cooking is a way to show you appreciate the short reprieve from being a full financial partner while you get settled.

Having a roommate can mean learning to negotiate what is fair in payment, cleaning, and other responsibilities but it is also nice to have someone around. Having a sound relationship with a roommate means a built in support. She gives you a ride when the bus won't do and you give her gas money. When she wants to travel for a few days you are keeping the house safe, watering plants and bringing in the mail. When one of you is sick the other can pick up some of the cleaning slack until recovery.

When I rented my first place with those 5 men I had just started a new job, fresh from my undergrad and going to grad school. I paid my fair share and contributed by cleaning the kitchen and shoveling the drive during snowy times. When I lost my first job I only had enough money saved for half the rent. I was not instantly homeless because my roommates picked up my share and in turn I did some extra errands and cleaning for the house. I worked VERY hard to get a new job and did after two weeks. I often wanted to quit that flower shop job but did not because I LIKED the independence and I enjoyed not owing anyone anything.

I believe you will find that moving on your own will give you much more drive to find a job with consistent earnings. It feels good to feel stable and be an equal contributor. Having your name on the lease insures you have some skin in the game. It ensures that you ARE accountable to pay your part AND save for future mishaps. If two people are working together to make living more affordable it is a wonderful partnership.

This world is not build for single income independent living. It has not been as long as I have been alive (54 years) and perhaps never has been. Mutually shared space and financial responsibility is a long standing survival tactic. And learning to communicate and navigate in such situations is a beneficial skill.

#roommates #sharing space #independence

[toxicparentrants]

My fiance, son, and I are stuck living with my mom and her boyfriend until we get our house bought in another state, we had wrecked our car and her boyfriend bought one to work for us until we get another car fixed. My fiance spent all day cleaning the house for my mother to come home and start screaming that I didn't do it, I ignored it and asked if she had feminine products as that started for me and I got told to f off. My son was sleeping, thank God bc she was way too drunk as well, I went to my room with my fiance and locked our door. She ended up coming to my door yanking on it and demanding me to open it for me to tell her no so she began punching, kicking, and body slammimg the door. I told her she was being violent and aggressive and I feel unsafe around her being she will assault me (she has before and I successfully defended myself and a few months ago she assaulted my fiance) she continued to scream and beat up my door, while telling me she is cutting all electric and heat to our bedroom (it's like 20 degrees here) this is all happening outside of my sleeping son's room as well. All this bc I asked for tampons and the house was spotless. I then tried to leave to go get some from a friend that told me not to waste the money bc they have plenty, I was threatened that she'd have me arrested for stealing the car that my name is also on the insurance for and they voluntarily gave me the keys to, I got so many harassing texts from her and her fiance for trying to get a necessity so I went back into the house to say I have to go get these, it's now an emergency, I was also now covered in blood and the pizza guy showed up and saw me and heard me talking about needing them and he also heard her refusal in the words "sit and suffer in your own blood that's your own problem I'll put you in jail and come Monday I'm taking your son with cys", it literally took the pizza guy judging and shaming her to let me leave to get those. this is only something that happened today. I have too many experiences with her. I just hope this house thing gets done sooner than later. I want to leave and never see or talk to her again. She tries to use my son as leverage and has made me lose jobs by holding the car over my head that I pay for gas, oil, new parts, insurance, etc for. My mother is an abusive narcissist with a substance and alcohol issue. She has her boyfriend completely snowed even though he's witnessed her starting stuff with my fiance and I just to take the heat off of her getting caught cheating with their mutual friend.

I just need to vent. I've been holding my experiences in without ever talking about them since I was a child. My fiances parents both passed away this year, if they hadn't we wouldn't be here right now, we'd be at their house. I miss them and I'm beginning to become physically ill due to depression and anxiety bc of my mother's poor behavior and treatment of us. It's affecting my son at this point as well. It's all embarrassing and upsetting. We're trying to find somewhere to rent here to wait it out, but can't find anywhere with 2 bedrooms bc my town sucks honestly.

I’m sorry you have to deal with that. You don’t deserve that neither does your son or fiancé. I was in a position where i went from one volatile home to another and it was being an adult living with other people that are very toxic and bad to you but not being able to find or afford your own place it’s terrible. I hope that you guys can be in a better place soon away from all of that. Your emotions are valid and you shouldn’t be treated that way.

#rant #vent #anon vent #toxic parents #abuse #toxic #child abuse

[whentherewerebicycles]

okay sigh I slept on the job despair and feel a little better this morning. I think my despair has to do with feeling like I was misled a little bit in the interview process… or maybe I wanted to hear certain things and wasn’t listening closely enough to other things. my impression was that stuff like preparing briefings was going to be a very small fraction of my job, and that the bulk of my time would be spent on instructional work: planning and facilitating workshops, coaching staff one-on-one, and helping design & implement a comprehensive new professional development program. I love working with people and I love that big-picture strategic thinking curriculum design work, so I think I’d be reasonably happy in this role if it was the one described to me in my interviews. but the reality of this job is that I work alone 97% of the time—and most of that time is spent either on clerical tasks I could’ve handled in high school or on things I have no skillset for or interest in (like graphic design work). and while I get along much better with my team lead now and like her a lot as a person, I still feel really frustrated by the way she prioritizes tasks for our team and by the way she manages my workload even when I’m practically begging her to let me take on more (meaningful) work, like planning a writing workshop or developing a cohort-based leadership training series. I feel like she doesn’t want to take on extra projects as a team, which fine, but I’ve literally said to her multiple times that I don’t have enough to do and I don’t feel like the work I am doing is utilizing the skills I was ostensibly hired for. I don’t know how else to communicate that I’m desperate for purposeful work and would gladly take on those projects even if she wants to be minimally involved. and then as I’ve said before in my journaling about this job… I just hate the way that giving 10% of what I’m capable of makes me feel. I hate feeling like a person who’s content with just skating by, doing the bare minimum, not applying myself with any kind of focus or energy. it makes me feel Bad about myself and just lowkey demoralized all the time. blahhhh.

but okay. I’m not powerless here. I set up some new job alerts and am going to start updating my materials over the next couple weeks just in case anything comes up. there’s one job I’m looking at that would come with a pretty hefty pay cut, but I should be able to close that gap a bit if I start tutoring again and/or teach a couple classes a year. I’ve reached out about a couple of volunteer positions and will submit a few more applications this weekend. I might also apply for a tutoring job so I can start socking away some extra savings as a cushion if needed. I did a bunch of calculations last night to try to figure out what I need to cover rent, childcare expenses, etc. I think I can make do just fine on a lower salary—it’ll make things a little bit tighter with less margin for error (or unexpected disaster), but it should be possible.

anyway enough of that. it’s the weekend and I have three whole days off!!! my sister’s coming over tonight for a NYE sleepover… we’re going to watch glass onion and cook a delicious feast (aloo gobi, chickpea curry, homemade naan). today is supposed to be cool and cloudy with no rain. I would like to do the following things today:

HOME TASKS: empty & reload dishwasher, wipe down shelves and counters, clean out fridge, vacuum kitchen rug, take out recycling, give dogs their flea/tick meds

ERRANDS: get gas, drop off UPS packages, drop off USPS packages, do home goods return & look at pans, drop by target to grab groceries and a pan if home goods doesn’t have any good ones

EXERCISE: take dogs to a new neighborhood trail on my list and go for a short run after. or I’ve kind of been itching to rollerblade again… maybe I’ll try this paved trail near my house?

CREATIVE: read 30 pages of book, write at least 500 words

#blah blah blah #i have a tag on my period tracker app that’s like #‘tired of the sound of my own voice’ #and that’s the mood lately lol

[feralhound]

Venting. Am I the asshole?

Because that’s pretty much all I use this app for anymore lol

I can’t believe I got tied up in this.

Coworker/“tennent” drama. I ended up having to sell my house since one roommate moved out, and another litterally has been living Scott free and won’t get a job, so I pretty much can’t afford my bills and Morgage anymore. I have her the move out day, talked to a few cash buyers and started moving out to my moms. With the money I could get from my house I could be dept free again and get a down deposit for a house in the future. This was October.

Well my coworker, who was about to get kicked out of the house where she lives because landlord was selling, didn’t have anywhere to go and didn’t have a car. I was driving her to work and back for some time now. Every now and then she’d get me a drink, this was fine. She kept saying she at least needed a car cause she would probably be living in it. I hesitated to let her stay at my house because one I had cats and a dog that freeroams, two she has a history. With an abusive druggatic dude, who when she broke up with him the first time came crying to me, no where to stay, no family that talks to her, so I asked my mom if she could stay there. She said yes, just until she gets on her feet. My mom only charged her like $300, and was going to give half back to her when she moved out. Well she got comfortable. Was there for months. Started sneaking boys in when my mom told her she was uncomfortable with that. At one point she totaled her car, and I was driving her to work. Occasional gas money but I told her save up for her car. Well she got comfortable with that, and months went by, no car either. My dad gets sick, I’m not only driving her but I’m also visiting my dad so I’m barely home. I finally told her I can’t drive her anymore it’s too much. She throws a hissy, ends up after a week or two of ubering (since my coworkers caught on to her game) that she needed to actually purchase a car (couldn’t from dealer because her at the time ex boyfriend had her co-sign for her car and refused to take it off).

And then, I found out she was back together with the abusive, unstable ex who had threatened people with guns. She had him coming over to my mother’s house! The biggest rule was not to invite him! So I got pissed told my mom, and she kicked her out. She was more than generous and let her stay a month or two longer since she begged she couldn’t find a place.

Fast ford to new house, she breaks up with him, he ends up stalking her through multiple apps, she finally seems like she’s seeing the light, so come October when she asked me if she could stay at my place she would pay I said yes, only until I could sell it. I needed to sell it. I actually ended up moving in with my mom completely because I knew living with her would be no good. My other roommate is supposed to be out in November. Coworker approaches roommate, told her she could stay as long as she (roommate, no job but had a car) would drive her to/from work. Honestly worked for me because I didn’t have to go out of my way to drive her.

So I try going through open house to sell, which lowballs. She’s fine staying there so I didn’t push it, figured as long as someone is paying I’m not getting too much further behind. So I’ll try a realtor now, because now it isn’t so urgent. Realtor says won’t sell until new year. I tell them if they want to stay, they can. They do. Then, coworker ask me if I could just rent it out to her, I said no I need to sell. She says what if she doubles what she’s paying me (which would cover my Morgage and utilities). She then proceeds to tell me this MF ex MOVED IN WITH HER. She knows how I feel about him, I’m livid, this is my house. But at this point I can’t sell yet. She says just until she gets a car. I say ok. Stupidly. But I also felt a little relief with the bills being paid on a house I wasn’t even living in.

January happens, her dad dies. She gets money. Gets a car. She said whenever I want to sell I am good she can find her own place. I said ok, gave eviction notice to roommate to be out by end of February, and start looking at my options. Coworker then asks me if I will just keep renting the house out to her, I said no. I’m selling. She can stay until closing if she wants. She does. So I met with realtor end of February, she tells me I need to do xyz to get ready. Ok, it’s going to be work. She wants to go live on the 23rd, soft opening on 9th, I need to get front yard fixed. However, roommate with no job then tells me the moving fell through she’ll be out but needs to get her stuff the following week. Ok. She’s going to get a moving company. Ok. I had offered to load her stuff on the trailer and drive it somewhere. The day the moving company is supposed to come she texts me she can’t afford it so can I help her move. At this point I need her out, I need the house clean. So first weekend I’m moving her out. And trying to clean up the yard. I work 5 days a week, so weekends are the only time I’m able to really do stuff. I tell coworker I need to do xyz, and when the open house will be (next weekend supposedly), and I was pretty much doing it by myself cause I well I didn’t want to ask her. So I have been over there every weekend since, and took Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday off so I could work on things. Well Tuesday I didn’t do anything, Thursday I came over later in the afternoon, and Friday I came over in the afternoon because I didn’t want to go in the house by myself with the boyfriend. One day I say cigarettes in the front yard, with burnt mulch. I was pissed! The house could have caught on fire, how irresponsible. She still says “it’s just dead mulch and we picked the cigarette butts up”. Do you not get it the house could have cause on fire??? If you left and didn’t notice the fire, the house would have been gone. She doesn’t. Just like she doesn’t get the reason why my mom was pissed was not just about boyfriend, but because she literally lied to my moms face??

So I’m over there cleaning yesterday, all day cause shits got to get done, she stays in her room. Ok that’s fine. I get the front door painted, run to Home Depot to grab some things, but it ends up being more than just one run. So I come back later than I intended, put some blinds up, clean up some, say I’ll be back tomorrow.

Then I get a text, “can you chill with the cleaning I need my personal time you’re over here too much and I’m starting to get pissed” Fucking excuse me??? I’m trying to sell the fucking house. She states I’m rude for having strangers in around her stuff, when she paid for this month in full, and even that I said I had a little extra money in that account that must mean I’m getting extra “but I’ll probably never see that money”.. I’m beyond pissed. Am I really the fucking asshole here? She says I should never agree to let her stay there. Excuse me??? You’re damn right I shouldn’t have. The extra money I put in that account, her “full payment” covers everything with maybe $25 to spare.

I basically told her to gtfo by next weekend and I’ll give her 1/4 of her rent back. I don’t even care. Now I’m postponing everything with the house because this fucking bitch right here. And I can see her smirking because she’s got her way.

She’s also supposed to get her childhood house back but in August, she has asked me before if she could stay until then. I said no. I know this is why she’s fucking pissed. She said I’m pissed cause I’m not getting what I want for the house. Guess what? That’s absolutely not. I’ll be getting what I want.

Guess what sweetie, ain’t no one is going to help you now when you break up with your boyfriend again.

#vent

[razorblade180]

Interdimensional Moms: Bonus

Part 4 here<-

After many tears and tissue boxes, all members of team RWBY had finally stopped crying. Blake was the best off with her eyes a little red while Ruby was the complete opposite. The girl’s face was still rather red and her eyes were puffy. She hadn’t even completely stopped sniffling yet; much like tear marked partner. Yang on the other hand rested her head on the table. She had cried hard enough to giver herself a minor headache. She was completely drained.

Yang:Ugh, this blows! I thought this was gonna be a fun learning experience.

Blake:We definitely learned. It just so happens we had to poke at some.... extremely sensitive topics.

Weiss:I’m all for looking inward and self reflection but I’ve had my fill.

Ruby:Same. Should’ve kept the summary light.

Yang:No, I’m glad you got that off your chest. We just need a way to lighten the mood.

Blake:.....I kicked Weiss’s butt in a tournament.

RWY:......What?

Blake:During the time spent training for Salem, another tournament was held between the schools. It had team matches and singles. I kicked Weiss’s butt in my fourth round. It was a good day.

Weiss:How is that lightening mood!?

Blake:Listen, it was a big deal! I never thought I was gonna win the whole tournament but I really wanted to beat you. I love you but your head gets a little big when you’re on a roll for too long; plus I just really didn’t want to lose. I always felt a bit of rivalry between us.

Yang:Hehe, is that you’re way of saying “It would look bad to lose to a Schnee?”

Blake:Well it would!

Ruby:Hehehe.

Yang:Wait, does that mean we went back to school?

Blake:Yeah. It was pretty comforting. There was definitely a lot left to learn.

Yang:Weird. School kinda faded into the background.

Ruby:I went back to school. We all did actually. It was fast tracked by roughly a year but it was fun. We all got to pose in caps and gowns.

Weiss:Damn! I should’ve went back just for that. Unfortunately I was busy making rent and learning how to properly preheat a oven.

Yang:It’s like two buttons.

Weiss:Gas stove, and six years out of date.

Yang:Awww, you had to learn the hard way. I’m surprised and thankful you never left the gas on.

Weiss:There’s an alarm for that. Also I’m not irresponsible! Anyways, I mentioned similar tournaments earlier. I didn’t participate much but enough old videos of me in them were enough for to really light a fire under my kids. For awhile I was a bit concerned that they were just following a trend but they really love it. They used to always go around playing like knights when they were tiny.

Ruby:Carmine was a little different. She definitely always tried doing things I could but nothing got the girl jumping like seeing Yang’s horses or new ballet shoes. There wasn’t a morning when I didn’t hear a vase fall over or seeing her spin like a top. Carmine still hums some old routines when she isn’t paying attention.

Yang:Not too many memories of Yujin when she was pint size. But I do remember that wild child always loved using my bandannas for everything! Napkins, capes, ropes; anything but an actual bandanna. I used to get a bit upset with the napkin one but she’d always look at me with her big eyes and crazy hair. I never stayed mad.

Weiss:Softie.

Yang:She was like a pudgy puff ball! Fat cheeks and wholesome smiles. Ah! So adorable!

Weiss:I used to always have at least one of my kids on my hip when I was out and about. I think the media has a magazine amount of pictures of me at the park kissing my babies. Summer liked tummy rubs. She’d never go to sleep without one. Some nights I’d sing too but start to doze off so Jaune would have to take over.

Yang:*smiles* Speaking of Jaune.....

Ruby:No.

Yang:You don’t even know what I was-

Ruby:Were you about to suggest we compare our Jaune’s in the bedroom?

Yang:*red*......Well not just the bedroom! What’s the harm!? I just wanna know if he’s consistent across the board. No need to get detailed.

Weiss:You really never change no matter the world.

Yang:Can’t change greatness. It shows in any form!

Blake:He’s pretty compliant and accommodating. The benefits of being his first when I had prior knowledge I suppose.

Ruby:Don’t answer!

Blake:Why not? I’m comfortable with it.

Yang:Don’t listen to those two Blake. They’re just a bit more embarrassed since Jaune has literally been their one and only.

Blake:Huh, I never thought about it like that. Jaune would’ve been the first person you two opened up to on such a level; especially Weiss.

Yang:That’s still hilarious. All the protesting and somehow you found yourself stripping for the guy.

Weiss:Shut up! I already know! It was....I.... *blushing* emotions ran really high.

Ruby:An entire mental rollercoaster of thoughts and firsts happening all at once. Anxiety was high.

Yang:Heh, so you could say that Jaune Arc-

RW:Got through our walls. Hardy har har.

Yang:Shit, I am the same in every universe. Well I don’t have any reservations about it! *grinning* He makes me feel special every time!

Blake:Bottom.

Yang:I’m ignoring you.🎶

Ruby:Hehe, sounds about right. He...might make me feel a bit special as well.

Blake:Switch.

Ruby:How can you just guess off of that!?

Blake:It’s a gift.

Weiss:......

Blake:*smiling*

Weiss:Leave me alone.

Blake:I don’t know what has you embarrassed. You told us you’ve slept with everyone here except Ruby! I knew you were repressed but geez.

Weiss:For your information it wasn’t my idea! It was yours!

Blake:Not surprising. Let’s switch the topic. How is this other child of mine? Can’t picture me having a daughter.

Weiss:Veronica is very sensitive. Even if she tries to act like she isn’t. One time when she was tiny, a soccer ball hit her straight in the face and she sprung up saying “I’m fine!” Then you took her behind the bleachers to patch her up; tears all on her face. It both breaks my heart and very adorable to see her act fine while her ears are folded back.

Ruby:Your other son Kovu was a bit of cry baby. Partly my fault. Carmine kept beating him up and making fun of him.

Blake:What!?

Yang:Ha! Wait, that’s my kid too. How the heck!? Are you telling me you raised the rowdy child and I got the baby?

Ruby:Yang you’re a baby. I’m like twice as rowdy compared to you. A nevermore got worked day one at school.

Weiss:She has a point. You cry the most out of any of us.

Yang:Wha- that not- how....shut up! *pouts* I’m not that touchy.

Ruby:Kovu is a sweetie and not a cry baby. Carmine is just a little mean when she tries to care about others. She beat him up in an attempt to make Kovu give up dreaming about being a huntsman. That way he wouldn’t be in such a dangerous job. Reasonable logic but you know, a little over the top. Almost broke his arm. Boy did I chew her out. All it did was make him want to try harder.

Yang:Fantastic. I shouldn’t expect less from my own blood. I bet Yujin would like him. Which reminds me, anybody have kids in relationships?

RWB:We’re working on it.

The three women paused briefly before laughing at their meddling. Yang could only admire and fear her friends.

Yang:Should I be scared for your children?

Blake:Lucas needs someone to break up the routine in his life. I’m not saying he has to date her, but it would put a smile on my face.

Ruby:Carmine takes after me, not really thinking about stuff like relationships much. However, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t at all. Carmine tries her best to not act like she’s a teenaged girl with teenage wishes. But everyone sees right through it. I’m fine with her not being in one but I would like if she acknowledged that it’s okay to just....ugh, be normal! Why can nobody have normal knees in my life!?

Weiss:Nick likes Valerie who tries to deny she likes him by liking Summer, who doesn’t like her; while Veronica crushes on Nick who obviously has conflicting feelings.

RBY.....

Yang:Why is it always complicated with you?

Weiss:How is this my fau- okay it is a little bit.

Blake:Where do you stand?

Weiss:I think Valerie would be lovely for him.

Yang:What’s wrong with my baby girl!?

Blake:Yeah!?

Weiss:One, not yours. Two, have you met who I’m married to? Can’t really say he’s wasting his efforts. Though I wouldn’t be upset with Veronica. I think those two might be good for each other.

Blake:Any other bombshells people got?

Ruby:......

Ruby:Ilia is happily married.*sips coffee*

Blake:Oh that’s wonderful! I’m glad she found a loving wi-

Ruby:*smirks* To Sun.

Blake:....*stands up* I need, champagne!

A bottle of champagne poofs into existence with several glasses. Blake immediately pours everyone a glass before raising hers into the sky.

Blake:Ruby Rose, today you’ve erased guilt upon my conscious. I’m happy there’s one world where it seems all of my good exes get over me.

Ruby:Are the Ilia and Sun where you’re from miserable like Yang!?

Blake:No, but they kinda fumble in actually going for relationships. It just always makes me feel a little bad.

Yang:You can technically count two worlds. I’m fine, Ilia is dating a pretty secretary, and your one evil ex is now raising a morally good family.

Blake:You’re right! This calls for a double toast! To alternate universes! *puts glass down*

Weiss:Haha, aren’t you gonna drink it!?

Blake:No I’m still recovering; but how could I pass up the opportunity!? Man I wish I could attend that wedding! I don’t know if I’d be a bridesmaid or the best man!

Yang:You’re just gonna steal Neptune’s thunder like that?

Blake:Hey, Sun and I have taken bullets for each other and stab wounds. I think I deserve to be a little greedy and say I ride or die for that man just a little harder than Neptune.

Ruby:Geeeeeez Blake! Haha, I didn’t even tell you about the baby.

Blake:*visble excitement* Excuse me!?

RWY:*raises glass* Cheers.

Blake:CHEERS! What’s he like!?

xxxxx

Aero:AAAACHOOOO!

Carmine:Eugh! Cover your mouth! I don’t need to get sick.

Aero:Damn! What happened to uh I don’t know, “bless you!?”

Carmine:*pulls out tissues* Happy?

Aero:Where...why are those in you book bag?

Carmine:It’s flu season.

Aero:....I can’t tell if you’re the coolest person around or just a second mother.

Carmine:I can be both. My mom is arguably both but don’t tell her that. It’ll make her month and she’ll hug me too tight.

Aero:Bitch, you love hugs. Stop being difficult.

Carmine:Mmmm nah.

Aero:I feel bad for your mom.

Carmine:I feel bad for yours.

Aero:Hop off. You’re so childish.

Carmine:And yet you love me.

Aero:*red* In your dreams!

Carmine:It would make your day if I dreamed about you,wouldn’t it?

Aero:I hope you dream of spiders.

Carmine:We do not joke about that! *grabs him* Aero I will beat you up if I dream of them tonight! That’s just mean!

Aero:Stop crying ya baby. I could’ve said they were- ow!

Sun:*hitting him* Shut up and just kiss something! We’re trying to watch a game.

Aero and Carmine:We don’t like each other!

Jaune:With all do respect, that’s a lie. But please by all means Aero, continue not touching my daughter if you know what’s best for you. I don’t wanna have to fight you and your parents right afterwards.

Sun:Ilia would kill you.

Jaune:Yeah! That’s why I don’t want the fight! Much like Ruby, she’s short and terrifying. Her size holds the rage.

Ilia:*peeks in* Who’s talking shit?

JASC:Nobody, we love you!

Ilia:.....Got my eyes on you four. *holds Garnet up* and this one; the most well behaved in this bunch even with no nap.

Garnet:*fussy grumbling* I’m a ball of rage!

Ilia:You wanna nap?

Garnet:Yes!!!

Ilia:See, behaved. *walks away* don’t make me come back out here.

Carmine:....So do you like me because your mother is also imposing?

Aero:This is it, my evil origin story. It begins today.

xxxxx

Ruby:I admire his patience.

#rwby #the void #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #carmine arc rose #aero amitola #ilia amitola #sun wukong #rwby ships #rwby lancaster #rwby whiteknight #rwby dragonslayer #rwby knightshade

[geraldineswriting]

𝐑𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

(𝗠𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁)

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 = 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘙𝘺𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 = 3.6𝘬

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 = 𝘖𝘊 𝘹 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 = 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 & 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

(𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘧, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘳!)

Rylee was tired of everything. She was tired of having to live in her tiny motel room for the past five months. She was exhausted by the fact that she was working five days a week to pay for the four college classes that seemed to be forever marked on her calendar. She was so damn tired of being alone in a town that was new to her in every way, even if she has already called it her home for almost half a year. She moved here to get away from her parents that seemed to constantly be looking over Rylee’s shoulder, but she didn’t know that the price would be loneliness. She wanted friends and freedom and maybe even love if that was a possibility but it seemed like those cards weren’t in her deck.

God decided to finally give Rylee a break when she found a small studio apartment that was close to not only her job but also her school. She knew that she was going to have to take a few extra shifts to afford the rent but at least she had a mailbox and stove, a luxury that she would never take for granted again. The downside to moving was that she needed to actually move her belongings into the damn place, which she would have to do alone. Luckily, Rylee’s parents bought her a small ski boat when she moved out since they knew boats seemed to be more popular than cars in the Outer Banks area. 

So now, on her one real day off, Rylee was going to move all of her things into her new home, which meant she also had to cross the marsh about ten times since the old motel was across town. She never knew how lonely moving could make someone feel until her ninth and final trip back with only two boxes in her boat left. She felt relieved that it was over but sad that she had no one to celebrate this small victory with. She did it, she was moving into her first real home even if it went by the title, “apartment.” She was proud of herself, at least until the boat suddenly stopped. At first she was confused because the gas tank was at least half full after she filled it up two trips ago. She wasn’t an irresponsible girl, especially when it came to boat ownership and Rylee was having a hard time understanding why it was now deciding not to move. But that confusion quickly turned into violent terror when the boat started to sink. She was at least five miles away from the docks and swimming that far at eight o’clock at night didn’t seem safe. The water had started to come over the bow and was quickly rushing towards her feet. The situation was becoming worse by the second and Rylee knew she needed to make a decision on what to do. She knew she had no other choice but to put on a life vest and swim home. She quickly found the orange life preserver under one of the many seats, snapping shut each clip. As she was about to jump from the boat, she decided to grab one of the two boxes, wanting to lose the least amount of possessions as possible. 

She was almost five hundred feet away when she looked back to see the boat fully under, leaving no evidence that it was even there at all. Rylee immediately started crying, because how could she not. She just lost her only way of transportation and her only sense of freedom that she had a grasp on. Her parents were going to be not only pissed, but also distrust her in every sense of the word. She felt like she was in this epic battle between the world and her, and as she used every bit of strength to get home, she felt like she was losing. 

It was starting to become hard to breathe as the tears rolled down her reddened cheeks and the soreness in her arms and legs was getting to the point of unbearable. She prayed for some miracle that would get her home because she was starting to lose hope in making it back safely. For as long as she could remember, Rylee felt like the little girl who was always being supervised by her parents. The irresponsible, unreliable and selfish girl who had the constant urge to prove to everybody that she was anything but those things.  It wasn’t until she moved to the Outer Banks that she finally felt like a woman. A strong, valiant and beautiful woman who was worth more than everybody else’s opinion about her. But now as she weakly swam through the marsh at almost nine o’clock at night, she once again felt like that little girl. She not only felt weak and stupid but believed it as well. 

It was once Rylee had been swimming for about an hour when she knew she wasn’t going to make it home if she didn’t get help. She had dropped her previously held box about fifteen minutes back, but still the ache in her lungs was only building while the wanting of hope was dissipating. She tried taking short breaks, while also getting rid of the soaking wet jeans and sweater to make herself lighter. Nothing was working. 

At this same time, Rafe Cameron was getting into his boat hurriedly, deciding that a late night drive was what he needed. Like every other night, Rafe’s father had decided that getting into a degrading screaming match with his son was a good plan, which of course caused Rafe to shut down and leave. This had become the regular program and at this point, Rafe was used to it. So as Rafe drove his boat through the seagrass ridden marsh, he was startled to say the least when he heard someone yelling, no screaming, for help. 

Rafe wasn’t the savior type and if anything believed to never get involved with anybody’s business that wasn’t his own but when he heard the pleas, he knew he had to help. Rafe sped up until the screams became more prominent and understandable. He didn’t really know what to do or how to feel when he saw this half naked girl whose face was bright red and covered in tears but beautiful nonetheless. If he was being honest, it was mostly fear that sprung up into his heart when he saw her face, because she made him feel something that for once wasn’t pain or loneliness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet but it was good.

Rylee could not explain the amount of thankfulness she felt once she saw a boat approaching. She wanted to scream with joy but to do that she would have to stop crying, a thing that was too much to ask for at the moment. When the red boat pulled up beside her, she looked up to find a blond and built young man staring down at her. She immediately thought he was handsome but was too traumatized to wander any further into that thought. The only thing she wanted to do at the moment was get out of that water. Even though the weather in the Outer Banks was anything but cold, she couldn’t help but shiver due to the late hour and now freezing water. 

“P-Please help m-me out of h-here.” Rylee stuttered, while Rafe went on his knees to pull her up from her waist.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her chest against his as her pale and cold body was pulled from the water. Rafe was startled when he felt her body and it reminded him of ice. 

“Thank you, thank you s-so much. J-Just thank you.” She stuffed her face into his neck, crying with tears of joy but also terror. She was terrified of the event that she just experienced and it left her mind in a state of shock to think that she survived it. But she couldn’t have been more thankful that this stranger saved her life. 

“It’s okay, no need to thank me.” Rafe whispered, holding her a little tighter when he felt some of her tears dripping onto his shoulder.

Rafe Cameron was not a person who liked emotions of any sort and would rather jump from a cliff then admit he felt anything at all. That wasn’t his thing and he was scared that that would never change until he felt her hands grasped onto his shoulders and her nose brushed against his neck. He was feeling things that he truly never knew existed, feelings that he thought were reserved for anyone but him. He had only just met her and yes, he was well aware that the thoughts roaming around his head were a little much, but still he felt them. 

“Um, do you have a b-blanket or towel? I’m just a little cold.” 

“Yes, yeah, of course.” He rushed out, gently pushing her into one of the seats as he haphazardly searched for a towel. 

Once he finally found one, he wrapped it around her shoulders whispering, “There, how’s that?” 

“I’ve never been so happy to meet a stranger in my life. Thank you so much.” Rylee meant it with her whole heart, and as she calmed down, she took her time to look up at him.

She had already identified him in her head as gorgeous but now that he had saved her, and the moon was lighting up his eyes like stars, she wasn’t surprised to feel her chest expand. He was the epitome of handsome, but she was starting to feel like he was much more than a pretty face.

“I’m just glad I was out here. I mean, what happened? Are you okay?” His mind was swirling with possibilities, one of them including the thought of an attacker which only made his face burn with anger.

“I’m not exactly sure. All I know is that my boat sank along with some of the boxes that I was moving to my new apartment. I don’t really know how or why.”

“How long were you out there in the water?”

“About an hour, maybe more, maybe less.” It was strange for those words to be spilling from her lips. It left an uneasy feeling pooling around her stomach.

“Wow, I’m so- wow that’s horrible. God, you’re a strong woman, plenty of people I know wouldn’t have been able to make it that long.”

She blushed at his response, “Yeah, I’m glad I made it too. Again, thank you.” 

“Well, where are you heading so I can take you home?” 

His face had briefly caused her to forget that she had a home in the first place. 

“The apartment complex on willow street, it's only about a block away from the docks.” She didn’t want to put him out, and lord knows, nobody’s plan for their Saturday night was helping some poor stranger get home.

“You don’t have to walk me home, honestly just dropping me off at the docks is fine if that’s easier for you.” She added quickly, rushing the words together out of embarrassment from her predicament as the boat started moving. 

“I’m walking you home, especially since you don’t have any real clothes on. It’s no bother, really.”

She looked down at the mention of her clothing, or lack thereof and felt her heart ache with humiliation. She probably looked like the fool of the century. 

“Y-yeah, sorry a-about that.”  She whispered so quietly, she almost wished he didn’t hear her at all. 

“Don’t apologize, I understand. You took ‘em off to make yourself lighter in the water right? No need to be embarrassed about that.” He looked back to give her a show stopping smile that made her feel at ease. She really liked his smile.

“What’s your name?” She asked after he turned frontward again.

“Rafe, what about you?”

“Rylee. It’s nice to meet you Rafe.”

“Trust me, it’s very nice to meet you too.” 

She rose out of her seat, brushing the wet hair out of her face as she walked to stand next to him. Once she stood there at his side, she felt nervous and slightly self-conscious but mostly giddy. With her body still shaking from being cold and the heat radiating off of his body, it felt warm in many ways to be there. He gently rubbed his hand up and down her back, leaving a smile across her face and a quicker beat in her chest.

She had been alone for so long that it had become a companion. A feeling that now carried itself with her wherever she went, and though she never liked it, she got used to it. High school was not an experience that she liked to remember including the people that came along with it. She was alone in every way imaginable, so it felt quite fragile but exhilarating to be with this new friend. A person who made her feel things that past friends never made her feel. He made her feel like she was enough.

“So Rafe, what were you doing out at this time of night anyway? You don’t seem like the type of guy who’s out looking in random marsh’s to save even randomer girls.” She asked with an edge of worry to her voice, fully realizing that she knew nothing about him. As attracted to him as she was, she didn’t know him. If his plan was to kill her or lure her or hurt her, there was nothing she could do. All she could do really was trust that he wasn’t going to do anything of those things.

Rafe stiffened at her question, “Uh-,” He didn’t know if he should be honest about the scuff up with his dad that was slowly leaving a bruise below his eye. He thought maybe that would be too overwhelming to talk about, especially since they had just met and she was still pretty shaken up. He decided that he would lie, but if she caught on then he would tell the truth.

“I was bored and really had not much else to do. Thought the stars might look nice on the marsh.” 

“You sure that’s all?” She looked him in the eye, having a small suspicion that it wasn’t true. She was always good at reading people, and she felt like he was maybe a little upset. Maybe not at her but at something.

“What do you mean?” He laughed uneasily, meeting her stare.

“You hesitated and your answer was pretty vague. I’m just guessing though, obviously I could be wrong.” 

“I uh- yeah you’re right. It’s really not a big deal, another fight with my dad, that’s all.” He admitted, looking down in shame. He felt embarrassed that he was caught lying but also confused by the fact that she just knew something was wrong. Like he was a book and she read him without even looking at the cover. 

“I get it, I mean, not to get so deep but I’ve never had a good relationship with my parents so you’re really just preaching to the choir. I’m sorry though, I know that won’t fix it nor is it probably something you even want to hear but yeah, I’m sorry.” She hoped her honesty didn’t make him uncomfortable because all she received was silence. She felt he was upset but she didn’t think her comment would make him shut down.

It wasn’t until she finally looked him back in the eyes that she saw them tear up, almost spilling over. Rylee was suddenly sure that she didn’t make him uncomfortable with her silence but he was just uncomfortable with showing his emotions. She understood that feeling all too well. She decided the best thing to do was to wrap her hand into the crook of his elbow, as his hand sat on the steering wheel. He looked down at her and gave her a forced but at the same time authentic smile. She gave it right back.

“We’re here.” Rafe announced a few minutes later, as she pulled her hand back to herself. They quietly leapt out of the boat, as he tied it to the dock, no words nor stares being shared between them. It wasn’t awkward, it was just quiet.

“Shit, I’m barefoot.” She spoke to herself, quickly trying to mentally figure out what to do for the next block or two that they would have to walk. It wasn’t until Rafe stepped in front of her and surprisingly picked her up bridal-style that those worries went away.

“You sure you want to carry me? ‘S not the easiest job and I really don’t mind being barefoot.” She spoke with her head lying against his chest and her arms around his neck. It was so comfortable though and with his arms under her waist and legs, she just wanted to fall asleep. 

“Knock it off, you’re lighter than a feather. Oh, and trust me, there’s no way I’m risking you cutting up your feet. It’s just not worth it.” He spoke so softly, it was like a lullaby singing her to sleep.

“Though before you pass out love, where’s your apartment?” 

“Green complex, door thirteen, second floor.” 

“Alright, close your eyes. We’ll be there in a few minutes.” As she closed her eyes, she thought about how if she wasn’t so tired, she would’ve kissed him. 

It wasn’t until she felt her body being put onto a soft mattress that her eyes opened once again. The first thing she saw was his hands, pulling her tan comforter over her exhausted body. They had small, disappearing bruises scattered on the knuckles. Before he had the chance to pull them away she gently grasped one in hers. His skin was soft, littered with tiny calluses on his fingertips. She looked up into his eyes, giving him a tired smile. He gave one back.

“Rafe, thank you so much. I don’t know what else to say except that. Thank you.” He squeezed her hand unapologetically hard.

“You’re giving me too much credit. You’re the one who made it and was strong enough to make it. If we were closer I’d probably tell you that I’m really proud of you.” 

“I’m proud of me too, even if I lost my boat and some of my things. I still did it.” He had this look on his face that was hard to read, but one that still gave her the feeling of achievement and care. 

“Exactly.” He hesitated as he sat there and thought about the different array of choices he had sitting in front of him. He really didn’t know what to do. She was so pretty and strong and mature that he didn’t know how to react. Rafe honestly believed that there was no option that included her ever going on a date with him. Maybe the best thing for him to do was to leave.

“I should go, you’ve had a long day to say the least.” He retracted his hand and pulled the covers little tighter around her arms. He started to back up towards the door, making sure to study her face as he was leaving because he didn’t want to forget it. If this was the extent of the relationship they shared, he wanted to remember every piece of it.

“O-Okay. Um, well thank you. Drive o-or walk or whatever you’re doing safely. Thanks again.” She spoke quietly. She felt abandoned again. For the millionth time she felt like someone was leaving and that she would go back to being alone. This person who saved her life made her feel wanted and cared for and like she was a real breathing person. Not just a shell of a human, walking around with nothing but a heartbeat to remind her she was alive. 

Rafe gave her a small wave, hesitating as he backed out the final few feet. She heard his feet down the hall and with each step, her mind began to search for any type of courage left in her body. He couldn’t leave like this, especially since they both knew this wasn’t just strangers helping each other out. This was special and rare. 

Rylee heard his footsteps stop briefly as he opened the front door.

“No, fuck no. Rafe!” Rylee yelled, cutting through the silence with passion. She rose from her bed with anger and determination and courage. 

“What are you doing?” He asked her as she appeared at the other end of the room, even though he was pretty sure he already understood. 

“I’m not letting you leave like this. Everyone always does that. Maybe I’m just batshit crazy but I don’t know. I don’t think I really have to say it, do I?” 

Rafe stared back at her, fondness carved into his eyes. She was much more courageous than him, that was a fact he wholeheartedly believed. 

“No, you don’t.” 

“Well then are you going to kiss me or what?” She spoke bravely, a shy smile springing up from her face. They both stood there, opposite ends of the room until he slowly walked towards her. When he reached her, his hands landed softly around her naked waist, with hers on his cheeks. 

They kissed hesitantly, careful about how their lips meshed together, savoring as much of the feeling as they could. Rafe really liked Rylee and Rylee really liked Rafe. All she knew was she no longer was upset that her boat mysteriously sank, nor was she scared about calling her parents. She was just grateful that she now had someone, someone who’s plan was to never leave.

#rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #obx imagine #obx one shot #outer banks fic #outer banks one shot #outer banks imagine #jj #jj maybank fic #jj maybank #rafe #kook #pogue #pope x reader #pope heyward imagine #pope heyward fic #pope #john b reader #john b imagine #john b oneshot #john b fic #john b #john b routledge #jj x reader

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

I HATE CAPITALISM. I JUST WANT MY FAMILY SAFE, FED, CLOTHED, AND HOUSED. FFS.

I need $50 to change Adrienne's birth certificate so she can change her surname with the social security administration and thus get a new ID (which will cost an additional $20).

I also need gas because of the charges being pressed against her abuser - I'm the one who officially pressed the charges originally so I have to be there. She's in Reno; it takes me about $7 in gas to get to and from there, but I'm probably going to have to go up at least once or twice a week for the foreseeable future.

ETA: The reason everything is so awful is because my bank account got hacked and a bunch of money is tied up in that shit so I had to take out a bunch of smallish loans with huge ARPs to cover the basics. I paid one off already but I still owe quite a lot.

This is probably gonna get whiny and overwhelming, so under a cut it goes.

I need $300 to get new tires so I can keep DoorDashing. This is a really good deal.

Probs $1,000 to fix whatever is up with my 2nd cylinder - for another $300 I could probably just replace the whole-ass engine. Another $200 to fix the fuel pump issues and $150 for the brakes. This is if I fix it all myself, which I'm not really capable of doing most of the time anymore. Other things that need to be fixed: The windshield needs to be replaced, two side-panels and a headlight ideally need to be replaced, the air conditioner has something going on with it, and it needs to be CLEANED. But those are unessential.

I need like $5,000 to pay off my debts, official and unofficial, which will clear my credit.

I need $2,000 or more for a down payment on a new car, which will boost my credit even more. I would then be able to do Uber and Lyft in addition to DoorDash and Instacart.

Once all of that is done, I would qualify for down payment assistance in buying a house. Obviously I'm not looking to do that right now but like... six months from now, I would be. Because I want Adrienne, her kid, and her partner safe and with me. The payment for a house would be only slightly more than I pay for rent now, even including insurance and taxes.

I do not make enough money to pay all of these off a little bit at a time, or to save up for them - I make just about enough to cover our bills, expenses, and rent every month. Raven gets SNAP so we're lucky there, but I still wind up eating a lot of like, rice and spam. I'm working three jobs, y'all. This is exhausting. No wonder I got so fucking sick this week.

#poverty #financial insecurity #whining #overworked and underpaid

[rezdogsyonder]

Changing

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tall!Reader

Summary: Peter has found his soulmate but does she feel the same? Basically a soulmate au but different

Warnings: kidnapping, drugging,

A/N: Peter is aged up. Also I changed his powers just a tiny bit just one thing and the rest is the same.

This peice is unfinished and it will remain unfinished because I’m leaving tumblr and will not be returning. If you wish to continue this you may.

*********

Fuck. Not right now. Not today.

That’s all you can think as you’re nearly late for your first day as an photographer. It isn’t the first place you wanted to work for but you need the money. Well probably not a “real” photographer. You’re not hired for the job on a regular basis, but for their front page photos of Spider-Man. It’s cool, Spider-Man won’t let anybody else take his photos.

Well, it’s not really your first day but it’s the first day that Jameson is actually considering you as his official Spider-Man photographer. Before you usually would email him asking if he needed more photos and now he is finally now telling you that you’re going to be the official photographer for the weekly Spider-Man pieces.

You have started a blog for the hero and hopefully it will gain traction and maybe you’ll get to make an income from it. But for now you have to sell your photos to the Daily Bugle.

The rent is due Friday and you get a check from the gas station you work at that day, it won’t be enough to cover it though. But with a check after each batch of photos you provide will put you way over the green this pay day.

You’re rushing about your medium sized 1 room apartment. This place was a gem, the only reason this place was as cheap as a studio is because a billboard was directly across from the extremely large windows. Lighting up your entire apartment. It didn’t bother you much, it saved on electricity from never having to turn on the lights and all you needed was blackout curtains in your room.

You are not changing shirts but you squeeze into a pair of black pants. The grey boyfriend cardigan getting tucked in the back, but it doesn’t deter you from running to the bathroom and vigorously brushing your teeth. You’ll have to forgo the entire makeup routine but you have time for foundation and mascara.

Rushing back into your bedroom you pull a pair of socks from the top drawer of your dresser and look at your alarm clock. 9:42. 18minutes till you’re late. Well you know in Jameson’s eyes you are already late but he screams at you no matter what.

Your second shoe is tied, you got your purse and it has your wallet, phone, and keys already. You run out of your room and in the hallway of the complex. Fuck, locking these doors seems to be the longest part of leaving. 3 locks, self installed with the extra long screws. Never needed this much security before but some blind asshole next door seems to always be getting into fights. Like what the fuck, how hard is it to not fight someone, and then he leads them here.

Once the doors are locked and you’re out of the building you look at your phone. 9:44. 16 minutes to go around 2 miles. Well broadway cuts across, so probably less, but anyways you gotta run it. Now you’re not the most fit person, but you are able to push yourself more than what others would think you’d be able to.

Dodging people and avoiding running into the road, you make it to the first turn. Basically a straight shot now, but it seems as though people are wanting to be in your way today. You would love a bike right about now. Though you’d have a really high chance of getting hit by a car. But it’s right about the same risk since you are not stopping at the do not walk signs.

One car almost did hit you, but it braked in time but not without you slapping the hood as you went by. Not on purpose but from loss of balance. Well you probably would have slapped it anyways. Your face burns from the run, and the heat, it is the end of summer but it is still pretty hot out.

Oh god, this is awful, you’re just a more than halfway and you nearly ran into an old man and his wife outside of m&m world.

“Sorry!” You shout back but it’s not very loud and sounds winded. You won’t stop though.

Just a couple more turns. Just two more turns. Just one more. You keep telling yourself that you’re almost there, legs straining the muscles from the over exertion.

You get into the building and run to the elevator. You know you probably look unprofessional right about now but you don’t care. You just need to catch your breath.

You press the right floor and dig through your purse. The small mirror being a lifesaver as of recently, since being late is seeming to become a common ovccurance. You pat your forehead with the sleeve of your cardigan. You don’t look too bad, but not the best. You check the time, 9:58. Not bad, you’ll be just 1 minute early. The elevator ride giving you just enough time to breath properly.

The elevator doors open to the busy floor, and you go over to Jameson’s assistant, not even reaching her desk before she points her pen behind her to his office.

“L/N!” He immediately shouts, “Where are those photos?” He is still looking out the window behind his desk.

“Right here sir,” you pull the envelope out of your purse holding it out for him to take it. Which he does, ripping the lip of the envelope and begins examining your photos.”

“850. Tell Betty on your way out.” He plops you’re photos on his desk.

“850? That’s not my rate, there are 12 photos there.”

“These just aren’t worth your usual rate. 850.” He argues back, you’ve seen this before, had you been any smaller or even sitting he would have put his hands on his desk and leaned towards you to seem intimidating, but right now he looks like a child with his hands balled at his side.

“65 per photo or I go to The Post.” You won’t back down. That’s nearly a thousand, and you don’t want to let it go, even if it is less than 200 more than what he offered but you need it.

He stares at you, he’s turning red now in the ears. You collect your photos calling his bluff.

“Fine,” he grumbles, he presses a button on the small speaker on his desk, “Betty, write out a check for L/N for 975.” He released the button and you put the photos down. “Get out of here, she’ll call when we have another piece.”

“You’re a peach,” you smiled as you back out of his office. “Hey Betty, how’re you doing this week?”

“Just fine, but his wife wants me to control his anger as soon as his meds are sorted. Not looking forward to that.” She finishes filling out the check on her computor, and with one last click that is so familiar to you now, you know she printed it.

“Jesus, I do not want to be here for that.” You step back four steps to the printer and rip off the receipt at the bottom that she needs to keep and hand it to her. “Good luck, because you will need it. Thanks, see you next week!” You wave bye as the doors close.

Letting out a sigh of relief, and tucking your check into your wallet. You’re glad you won’t have to worry anymore. With this check you’ll have four or five hundred more than you’ll need for rent, meaning you won’t have to scrape by for grocerys.

You better hurry though, you have an hour till your next shift at the gas station and you still need a shower.

**********

The hours are going by slowly, with few customers to keep you distracted. Just 4 more hours and you get to call it a night. It has already been 6 hours since you clocked in and there had only been a handful of customers, making the day uncharacteristically slow.

Your phone begins vibrating on the small fridge below the counter, the shift managers name on the display screen. Seeing as there’s no customers you think it is fine to answer.

“Hello? Debby?” You greet subconciously.

“Y/N I have some bad news.” She pauses, “the person who is supposed to relieve you is refusing to come in. She quit.”

“What am I supposed to do? I’ve been here since 11:30, I don’t think it’s allowed for me to work past 1. Wasn’t her shift supposed to last till 8?”

“Yes I know but you are legally allowed to work till 4:30, and that is when I’ll take over because I cannot find another person to cover her shift. It’s only alright because I’m switching your shift tomorrow with Alex and you’ll have the day off to recuperate. Then it’s your usual day off the next so I think that’s enough time to get back to normal.”

“So I’m leaving at 4:30?” Disbelief evident in your voice.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I would get there now but John doesn’t come home until late tonight because he took the graveyard shift at his job and I can’t leave J.C. alone.”

“Yeah I understand, family comes first.”

“Thank you, you’re the best. See ya later.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You put down your phone and mentally prepare yourself for another 11 hours.

**********

Three red bulls, and a seasonal pumpkin spice coffee from the dispenser and it was almost midnight.

Many more customers has came in after the call, the universe seemingly wanting to tire you out further. Then it began slowing down again after 9. The time you were supposed to be going home if Patricia didn’t fucking refuse to come in.

It was about that time that a young man came in, wearing a dark suit but without the blazer. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Light brown hair and pale skin, he looked breathtaking. He quickly rounds to the back grabbing three of the big bottles of water.

“Just these for me...” he trails off as he sniffs, then he looks up and makes eye contact with you.

You two are staring at each other for a few seconds, his stare becoming unbearable and you look away.

“Ok sir... that’ll be 5.97.” You still feel his gaze. Refusing to look up, you bag his things. You hear his card slide through the machine.

“Thank you sir, have a nice night.”

“Yeah... you too.” And with that he was gone. Leaving you to think about this stranger for the rest of your shift.

**********

As promised, Debbie came at 4:30. You left to walk home. It was nice living basically across the street from your work. A short walk, but you still felt a sense of unease.

Looking all around you, you don’t spot any suspicious people. Not even one heading in the same direction as you. You let out a small sigh as you cross the road. But it does nothing to calm your nerves.

You’re trying not to seem panicked as you try to get through the door to your building but it might be obvious with how you’re shaking.

Past the door you let go if your breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Finally able to calm down. You walked to apartment, using the elevator instead of the stairs.

Once at your door your heart beat seems to have gone back to normal, but before you even put your key in the door you feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand up. You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s just a chill.

Unlocking all the locks you go inside, greeted by the bright pink fluorescent lights. You shut the door behind you and drop your bag on the floor. Too tired to care. Moving to go into your room, knowing that you’re not going to change into pajamas either.

Well probably take of the pants. Yeah, jeans are never comfy.

Shoes kicked off, pants off, bra off with some difficulty from your long sleeves, blankets pulled back and you’re ready for bed. You’re getting in when you hear a creek in the living room, but you don’t see anyone so it’s maybe the upstairs neighbours.

You turn around once more to lay down and you feel a pinprick at your neck. You slump over and you feel hands at your shoulders, picking you up in their arms.

Eyes won’t open, and you are quickly losing consciousness.

“Shh, you’re safe with me.”

*********

Your head is pounding, that’s what wakes you up. You still feel groggy and it makes your eyelids feel incredibly heavy. You want to sleep for more but your eyes keep fighting to open.

Once they do you are met with a room that is not your own. Everything is white, except the headboard which is a light grey, matching the bedside table. You look around, about 6 feet from the foot of the bad is a back door and there’s a bathroom to the left of the bed with the door wide open.

You run to the closed door, you grasp the handle but you get a head rush and are unable to turn the handle for a good 5 seconds. It’s no use though, the door was locked, and it doesn’t seem like a regular lock. It seems more advanced, it’s a regular handle but it’s warm, and doesn’t have any keyhole. It’s also not as big as a hotel handle, like the ones with the scanners. Irrelevant, but your mind is running a million miles an hour and you’re trying really hard to not panic.

You realize that you aren’t wearing your pants but a pair of sweats were at the edge of the king bed. You quickly pull them on. Your kidnapper has already seen your ass, but it’s a little bit comforting. Your bladder is full and it is more apparent now than a couple minutes ago.

They aren’t here yet, better be quick. You half jog into the bathroom it has a large sink and a nice looking shower, but you don’t want to use it due to there being no lock on the bathroom door and the shower door is glass. Not even one of those blurred glass doors, it is crystal clear.

You had already peed and we’re washing your hands when you hear a small beep and the locks opening. You’re drying your hands when you hear a knock at the door. You don’t answer.

Another knock, you stared at the door, a low sigh is heard and the door swings open.

It was the man from last night, except now he was covering his eyes with his hand.

“I swear I’m not looking but please come out right now.”

“... alright.” You’re voice is a little rough and just above a whisper.

“Thank you.” He turned around leaving the door open and you follow.

“Come with me.” he waves his hand over the lock and the beep is heard again.

He leads you through the door into a long hallway, when he turned to the left so did you. There’s no point in running when he would catch you in less than 2 seconds.

You pass by 4 doors, one on your left and three on your right. The fifth door on the right you entered and it was an office.

“Sit.” And you did, he sat behind the large desk and leaned forward with his elbows on it. “I need to tell you something that would be hard to hear. Hell, hard to believe, but just know that everything I’m telling you is true.”

You nodded when he paused and looked at you. You felt so out of place and uncomfortable. Heart beating so fast and hard, it feels as though it’s bursting out of your chest. Your hands slightly shaking and feet tapping where you sat on the edge of this obviously expensive chair.

“I’m going to be frank with you alright? You are my soulmate.”

You freeze, “wait... what?” You didnt believe it, he was right. He’s crazy. Soulmates were a rare thing in this world. How would he know? He only knew you for 5 seconds so why does he know? Why would he take you?

“We are soulmates. I felt it when I first met eyes with you, I know that you did too. I took you here because, to put it simply, you would be safe. There are many people after me and if they learned of your existsence they would find you and use you against me.”

“H-how do I know your not lying?” You stare at the lines in the wood of his desk, refusing to look up. When you look him in the eyes you feel the same pull that you did back at the gas station. You hear rustling and you glance up for just a second, then you look back when you realize it’s just his arm that he wants you to look at.

He begins rolling his sleeves like the way you saw last night. Or was it even still the next day? You don’t know. Not seeing any clock or any windows since you were at your home.

Beautiful lines are spread across his forearm and you realize it wasn’t there before. “Can you look at your arm?” His voice is gentle, like he’s trying to be comforting.

You stare at his arm as you pull your sleeve up, then you look down at a blank arm. You pull up your other sleeve just as roughly and see the same tattoo that he has. You touch it gently as though it’ll smear if you are as rough as you were two seconds ago.

“Mine showed up a little after I stepped out of that store. I guess you didn’t notice yours.” You rub at yours and it won’t come off, and the skin isn’t raised as though you have a regular tattoo.

“What does this mean?”

“This means that you are now mine.” You feel tears welling in your eyes.

“So I can’t go home?”

“No, and some things are going to change.” You look at him wide eyed, fearful for the changes that he has in mind.

“So I’m sure you have heard of the powered people of New York, and I am telling you that I am one of them. Not only that, but I am a member of the avengers.” He pauses, you feel his eyes on you and you can only assume he is trying to gauge your reaction. “But I didn’t achieve my abilities through government testing or anything of the sort. I was bit by a mutant spider and I gained the spiders abilities.”

“You’re... Spider-Man?”

“That’s right. Now that you’re here, I will have to give you the same abilities I have so that we will be on equal grounds.”

“How are you going to do that?” You look up at his face.

“I will bite you of course.”

#avengers #marvel #avengers fic #marvel fic #peter #peter parker #spiderman #soulmates #soulmate au #dark!peter #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark fic #dark fandom #dark fanfiction

[trillian-anders]

boeuf bourguignon

pairing: chef!bucky x plus!reader

warnings: fluff, domesticity, like two minutes of angst

word count: 2470

description: chef!au; you and bucky move in together

just a taste masterlist

“What’s the first thing we should make?” You asked, curled around Bucky on the mattress on the floor. The decision to move in together was easy after spending so much time together and missing each other in passing because one was too tired to go to the other’s apartment. And it’s economical, you both figure. He hummed, the vibrations coming through his chest, fingers tracing patterns on your bare back. 

“What’s something you’ve always wanted to eat?” He asked, dozy and almost asleep. Your memory flits back to last week when you’d watched Julie & Julia while packing. And with half closed lids you mumble back,

“Boeuf Bourguignon.” He lets out a sound that almost seemed like a laugh, too tired to recognize, 

“Okay baby.”

It was a cute little brownstone smack in the middle of his restaurant and Stark Tower, a compromise that had to be reached over many small arguments, too old, too new. Too far. Have you seen the neighborhood? Sam even input on a couple apartment complexes that would be good for the food truck. But it was settled that Bucky didn’t want the restaurant that close to him. 

You ate pizza in between fixing small cosmetic cracks in the wall and painting. Chinese while you arranged the furniture the way you wanted. And you enjoyed curry from the Indian place you loved that just so happened to be down the street from where you’d moved while unpacking the dishes and putting clothes away. 

“What do you think?” He asks, you’d left the kitchen up to him, the layout and how he wanted it organized. The copper pans were a brilliant contrast for your very white kitchen that had been partially the selling point for you. The gas stove top and double oven was the selling point for him. A knife rack on the wall, hanging pots and pans, and a double door refrigerator. It was the compromise for the cracked walls and the floors you’ll need to get redone soon, with some new varnish and spackle you figure you could get a couple more years out of them. 

You smile at him, he looked proud, and leaned against the door frame, “It looks really good.” He met you in the doorway, and placed his hands on the door jam, leaning in to kiss you. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

Steve was finally free and coming back to New York so they were moving the opening date for the restaurant to the week that he would be there. Which means it was time to put some vacation days in. 

A knock on your office door, Tony Stark himself. A smile on his face, “What is this I hear about you needing a week off?” 

“Tony I literally just sent the email five minutes ago.” He shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him with his foot. 

“I was already on my way down.” He examines the picture on your desk, a photo taken of you and Bucky. The food truck artfully posed in front of the restaurant, the sign had just been put up, your face was buried in his neck and he was laughing at some dirty joke Sam had just said. “Just wondering when you’re going to be inviting me over for dinner now that you’ve settled into your new place.” You sigh and lean back in your chair, he was giving you a knowing smirk. Natasha. 

“Well we are having a little dinner party to celebrate the opening of the restaurant,” You cross your arms as his smirk widens, “Would you like to join us?” 

“Oh, I never thought you’d ask, I’ll be there at 7? I’ll bring drinks.” And just like that he’d left, seconds later an email in reply approving your time off request. 

Bucky wasn’t happy.

“You invited Tony Stark?” Shoulders rolling, kneading dough on the bar top. 

“Nat mentioned it to him,” You defended, “How could I tell my boss that he’s not allowed to come?” He gave you a look,

“This guy runs you all hours of the day,” dough slammed and rolled, dusted with flour and kneaded again, “He calls you all hours of the day.” Dough cutter, cutting the bread dough that would soon be dinner rolls, into eighths. “And the one time you actually ask to have time off, he wants to be involved in some way?” 

“You love Howard Stark.” You roll your eyes and steal a strawberry out of the small container that he was marinating them in. Soaking in Grand Mariner. “He’s basically the same person.” 

“He’s not,” Bucky shakes his head, “Howard Stark was a revolutionary inventor, Tony Stark buys properties and gentrified neighborhoods.” 

“He’s putting in rent controlled housing for low income households.” Bucky sighs and leans back. 

“Partially,” He says, “I know that Pepper Potts is the one who organizes his charitable giving and covers for him.”

“You’re literally grasping for straws here,” You scoff, “We’re working on a way to get rid of fossil fuels all together and you’re upset that he’s only signing the checks, it’s still his money.” Bucky glares at you, sighing heavily. “He pays me a lot of money to do the job that I do, and just because you think I should be doing something else doesn’t mean what I’m doing right now is bad.” 

It was no secret to you that Bucky wanted you to take the leap on trying to get your book published. But this job was what paid your bills currently. You’ve read articles about people getting on the best seller lists having only made 12k on their book, and while you’d hope you would have a best seller, 12k isn’t going to support you. 

“I just want you to do something you love.” Which was easy for him to say because he was doing something he loved. He loved cooking, for you and for others. He loved making people happy, those cherish-able moments of making something for someone you love, that tradition. He loved it.

“Okay,” You step behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head on his back, “This week I’ll print a bunch of copies and I’ll mail them off to publishers.” 

“I don’t want you to do it because it’s something I want you to do.” He sighs, “I want you to do it because it’s something you want to do.” 

“I do want to.” Mumbled into his back, he smelled so good, having just taken a shower before working on the proved dough. “I’ll do it this week.” A flower dusted hand brought one of yours up to his lips. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

Steve was charming, but shy. Very serious. An american flag pinned to the lapel of his suit jacket that had been quickly discarded when Sam and Bucky gave him shit for wearing a full suit to dinner. The pair of them in a button down and slacks. Wanda and Natasha were also in attendance, with Tony showing up at 7:30 with four bottles of wine and a full bottle of Macallan. 

You’d watched Bucky make it. Boeuf Bourguignon. You felt guilt in the fact that it takes five hours to make, but he said, “That’s what you want,” A kiss to your forehead, “That’s what I’m gonna make.”

Thick bacon cut into cubes and browned in a pan, a couple pieces plucked and tasted, just to make sure they were good with only a minor scolding from your boyfriend. Patted dry beef browned in a pan with olive oil and left over bacon grease. Onion and carrot softened in the same pan, fat poured off and the whole thing was thrown into the dutch oven, sprinkled with salt and pepper, and oddly enough a little flour. 

It cooked for four minutes, was mixed and cooked for another four minutes. Then it was covered in beef stock and Bordeaux. 

“You’re so handsome.” You sigh, watching him place the dish back in the oven after simmering it on the stove. He leans over the kitchen island, dish towel over his shoulder, a kiss to your cheek and then lips. 

“You’re very beautiful,” A softer kiss, “But I need you to get out of the kitchen.”

You were in the way, you knew that. But faked upset as you left the room to finally get ready, ass being met with a whip from the dish towel on your way out. 

Wine was poured as Bucky served the first course, salad, bruschetta, roasted artichokes, and bacon wrapped dates you’d have to convince him to make you again, very soon. 

“I hope you’re treating my girl right, Barnes.” Tony joked, the conversation having steered from Steve’s job, something he couldn’t really talk about, to the new house. You could see Bucky’s jaw clench from across the table, but he sipped the gifted wine and replied, 

“My girl gets treated very well at home,” placing the glass on the table, “Can’t say the same about work.” 

“Who’s ready for our mains?” You interrupt. 

“I think that’s a good idea.” Natasha smiled next to you, placing her fork down. You shot her a small glare, and she sipped her wine with a smug grin. She was never satisfied with things going smooth, always craving a little chaos. 

The boeuf bourguignon was incredible. The meat tender and juicy, the mushrooms and sauce robust. With the first bite you were whining and looking across the table at Bucky who was smiling. “This is incredible.” 

“It really is.” Sam agrees. A silent table is a sign of good food, conversation not starting until plates almost cleared, Wanda starting with,

“So the restaurant opens Friday night, which gives us all Friday morning to make sure we are fully prepped.” They’d set the hours to only open for dinner, if the restaurant does well they figure they can change the hours to be open for lunch as well, but they were working on the conservative side. “Y/N and I will be helping out at the host stand.” 

“I can help in the back if you want.” Steve offered. Sam laughed, 

“Doing what? Dishes.” A glare as a laugh sounded at the table. 

“I could stir a pot or something.” He laughed. 

“How has advertising been?” Tony asked. Bucky and Sam shrug, 

“We’ve been handing out flyers at the truck for weeks,” Bucky said, “We have a good following so we are hoping that might gain us some ground.”

“The sign has been up for a while too,” Sam agreed, “We’ve had people stop by to ask us when we are opening.” Tony nods, but you know the look on his face, obviously up to something. He winks at you. An exchange that doesn’t go unnoticed by Bucky who then clears his throat, standing from the table you help him clear the dishes, ready for dessert. 

“Does anyone want coffee?” 

…

“We need to get one of those big, industrial dishwashers.” You moan, heels kicked off as you unload the dishwasher after the first load. Bucky scrubbing at the pots and pans in the sink. 

“What was the wink about?” Bucky had been quiet since dinner ended, a tight smile as Tony wished a friendly goodbye. You sipped on Macallan, loading the dishwasher back up with plates while you answered. 

“He’s planning something most likely,” You cringe at food smeared onto your hand by a dirty spoon. 

“Are you sure?” His shoulders tense, pan dropping into the sink with a clang. 

“What is wrong with you?” You ask, shutting the dishwasher and pressing start. He looks over at you, exasperated. 

“He just seemed a little too friendly.” Bucky tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, you sigh, rubbing your forehead.

“You’re joking.” It was a sore subject. Months ago, before you’d moved in together, Bucky told you about Vivian. Pretty Vivian. A scar from a past relationship where Vivian cheated on him, constantly, and he was dumb enough to go back to her every time. 

“She used me for stability,” He shrugged, “Then slept around with everyone else.” He was insecure about it. Which was stunning to you because you couldn’t believe Bucky was insecure about anything. It broke your heart. 

“I’m not joking.” Anger laced his voice. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the sink, “It would make sense, him calling you all the time, late into the night.” Dish towel thrown down next to him, “You staying late at work.” 

“I would never cheat on you Bucky.” A little snip, “I can’t believe you would even think that I would do something like that.” His jaw is tight. 

“I didn’t think Vivian--”

“I’m not Vivian! I would never hurt you Bucky, and if you think I would maybe there’s something wrong here.” It seemed baffling to you, like maybe you were the one who was supposed to be afraid of Bucky cheating but it was the other way around. He sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. 

“I’m sorry,” He groans, “I know.” He looks at you, upset and emotional, “I know you wouldn’t, I’m sorry, I was just--” You stepped over to him, placing your hands on his crossed arms. 

“You have to trust me.” You said, “If you don’t trust me--” He leans forward to press his forehead against yours. 

“I know,” He sighs, “I’m sorry.” You lean up and meet his lips. 

“I love you.” His hands come to meet your hips, bunching up your skirt. Your tongue pokes out, tracing his bottom lip, his mouth parting for yours, breathing heavily. 

“I love you too.” Your ass meets the kitchen bench, his hands palming your bare thighs to lift you onto the counter, pans forgotten. “I’m sorry.” He whispers against your lips, moaning as you palm him through his slacks. 

“I forgive you.” 

Tony’s planning, his little sneaky wink, was him sending out a mass email to the entire staff that if they show up at Bucky’s restaurant opening weekend that he’d personally reimburse them for their money spent. Something Bucky half resented, but half appreciated. The restaurant opened busy and stayed busy. ‘An overnight success’ one critic said. 

Wanda helped you man the host stand, directing the girls where to take people, seasoned servers, people who Sam and Bucky had known from their days working in other restaurants helped them open. And as far as chaotic restaurant openings are, it wasn’t half bad. Especially when, sitting in the office after hours going over the numbers for the day there were six beautiful digits staring back at you. 

“So I guess we are opening for lunch.” Bucky mused, pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“I guess so.”

.

.

.

taglist //  @93generation​ @technicallykawaiisoul​  @bookish-shristi​ @saturnki​ @jennmurawski13​ @geeksareunique​ @the-soulofdevil​ @tinmunky​ @gifsbysimplysonia​ @alwaysbenhardysgirl @beck-alicious​

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #chef!bucky #plus!reader #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #steve rogers #natasha romanov #tony stark #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier

[toshitanddieinla]

Part 1 - Some Call It McLoving

It was 8:00am but it certainly didn't feel like it. The California sun glistened through his dusty cigarette stained windowsill, its ray's softly combed through tufts of Armie's receding hairline. Armand groaned miserably as he nursed a stomachache from the McRibs he had eaten the night before...the mcRibs which were now making a swift exit through his anus. But Armand was not aware of this at the time, because he was also slightly hungover, you see. His sometimes dog, Archie, on the other hand, was incredibly aware, because he was the first to detect its presence. He really only showed up at the home, a derelict pool house rental Armand found off of Craigslist, to sometimes curiously peek at what the human was up to and steal whatever food he left out. But today he noticed that Armand had truly gorged himself on a McRib binge. He ate his food from the automatic feeder and then exited through his doggy doorway to spend the majority of his time with his preferred people, Armand's Landlords and beleaguered neighbors, the Del Santis family.

The scattered remnants of McRib packaging were littered all over the pool house. This was his life now; he would give in excess every now and then when he could afford it, he would try to stock up for weeks on end with the money his frustrated mother would send. She had hoped he earned enough to buy his own food by now, let alone to pay rent, but he assured her that one day he would land that project that would pull through. Armand had overheard while eating a burrito at a gas station that there was a casting call for a few local commercials. He had been to every job center near Los Feliz and Encino and over the past week, after failed casting calls and rejection over rejection, Armand would buy McRibs to nurse his bruised ego. Someday, he would get a job, just like he would get a girl, and he would finally stop thinking about the size of his incredibly tiny penis.

As he began to get ready, he ran to the bathroom to void his bowels of his grease laden dinner. He would accidentally urinate himself in the process, and try to wash himself pathetically in the bathroom sink before taking a shower like a dignified person. His penis was usually the last thing he forgot to wash, if he remembered at al. It was an amazingly disgusting sight to behold: his pubic hair had completely overgrown over the entirety of his genitalia. His shaft had odd warts and bumps that overwhelmed and engulfed the head of his penis by comparison, making his genitals look like a cluster of smegma encased pimples, which had been covered in an odd green layer of filth. These bumps were not STDs, for his genitals have been repulsively like this for as long as he could remember. Armie often didn't notice because he sometimes forgot his dick was even there. Besides, he was sure he wasn't the only actor in Hollywood with a rancid baby dick anyway.

Another day, he thought to himself. He flipped through channels after getting ready and put on the local public access news channel, which he loved to leave on as background noise. He fished out another McRib from the fridge, when he overheard a name that stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Timothee Chalamet gave an excellent performance as Danny in a hip hop and polka fusion themed production of Cats Don't Dance…" the giggling female anchor couldn't contain herself as clips of Timothee prancing in terrifying Cat makeup played in a looping montage of b-roll footage. "...It was put on at the Los Feliz High School. He is amongst 5 other actors who have been nominated in the Los Angeles Prestigious Actors Forum Awards…"

Timmy, a voice whispered from within the foggy shadows of his mind…that smug pretentious prick. He had tried for that same high school production last month, and when he showed up to the auditions they escorted him off campus. He was at least 24 years younger than him, 2 feet smaller than he was, and weighed a quarter of his 180 pounds, and yet he could never escape Timothee's shadow. Their rivalry began two years, when they managed to star together in a low budget drama cobbled together by sometimes screenwriter Pedro Luna, a local nurse aide who filmed the movie out of his garage in Encino for $7,000. Armie took the job at $500 per week. He spent days practicing his face in front of a mirror, eating McRibs and perfecting his dead glazed over eyes to elicit the perfect  amount of emotionally stiff vacancy that his body could muster and that he was known for. He practiced his meandering monologues on confused and unwilling vagrants and pedestrians. And all though Armie had more experience, Timothee managed to outshine him. Armie remembered stopping by In n Out when his phone received the alert that his co star, Timothee, was nominated for the Encino Local Artizzy Awards and Los Angeles Actor Forum Award simultaneously. Armie was furious...all those weeks performing his monologues to bewildered tourists near the LAX. The days where he was pelted with garbage and he came home smelling like a dumpster that had been left out on Santa Monica Beach overnight. When strangers confusedly gave him money or spoke to him about sobriety, even though he would explain to them in vain that he was very sober. Sure, he made a few dollars when it live streamed on YouTube from a few of Pedro's patients who watched. But Armie needed that to be his moment. He needed to show his mother, who begged him to take a job anywhere, even McDonalds, that his move to LA wasn't a complete failure.  

He could feel the hate rise through his chest and swallow his throat as he stared at Timothee's oddly angular jaw. Why the fuck was his jaw so sharp? He wondered... He looked like if Lyle Lovett had mated with a leprechaun…Armie was just as confused as he was somewhat incessantly jealous. As he continued to listen, he fell under a panic induced hypnosis that terrified him. This is it, he though...this is the most my career has peaked. The thought dreaded him and his mind began to race. He couldn't face his mother's disappointment again; the empty, defeating silence from her when she asked if he found any new work. He couldn't face another rejection... I look better than him, he thought, I can bench press 200 pounds. And he knew deep down that wasn't even true, but if he said it enough it could become true enough that people would believe it, so why couldn't the same be said for his fluttering career? His anxiety transformed into a cloud, which brought upon a deep quickening panic, as he felt a darkness envelop him. The darkness seeped from all corners of the house and hung over him until there was no sunlight entering his room, but an overwhelming gloominess shrouding him, his soul turning into a black void. I am a better actor, he kept telling himself, I am amazing... I should be getting these awards...me...me...me… As he waited for the words to work, he began to wonder if there was a void large enough that could swallow all his failures, his fears, his insecurities...but in the meantime, his mind quickly hatched a plan.

#supportarmiehammer #supportarmieintheslammer #armie x timothee #armie hammer #timothee #timothee chalamet #egba #charmie #armie-hammer

[questionthebox]

I’m too lazy again.

So I’m writing this via a fancy

Red iPhone.

It’s dawned on me through this output

Via tumblr and Instagram.

That my most dedicated fans

Are people from overseas.

And I love that !

For example the messages I get in my inbox

Are

From people, from Europe, Canada, Latin America and Oceana.

And

I want to say this,

I’m going to move back to writing

“Good” poetry, I don’t want too be all “dark” seemingly,

But you have to understand something

Where I am, in this country,

In America it isn’t like where you all are.

So this is what America is. So that the picture is painted clearly.

Everyone has mental illness here, from the elderly to toddlers, over the past few days, it’s been hitting me, how absolutely nuts everyone is here, and it literally can’t be underestimated, within this rampant mental illness, are physical ailments, take for a moment to think of the pandemic, unlike Western Europe, unlike countries like Vietnam or Cuba, The USA has completely fumbled the response to the pandemic and now as of this week the new “delta variant” is running rampant through our country, and our government is paralyzed, part of the paralysis, is that our Conservatives here, are pretty much “Neo Fascist” they are openly telling people to not get vaccinated and to not wear masks,

Violence is endemic to the mental illness, over the weekend, there was a shooting incident at a sporting event, in the past 3 years, we’ve had a mass shooting every month, Violence is also racial, the police routinely kill blacks, right wing and Neo fascist violence also takes place,

People our people are fundamentally isolated and trapped, it’s worse for our people who live in what we call here “flyover country” where there’s literally nothing, no jobs, nothing to entertain people, over large swaths of our country, areas have basically become hollowed out. Everything’s also very expensive, it’s extremely expensive here in California and New York, they did a study recently, that showed no one in America can afford a one bedroom apartment, that we would have to work 70 hours in one day, to be able to afford rent on our own, in this atmosphere, people rent rooms, in college my girlfriend told me I should rent a room because my family life at the time was extremely dysfunctional. People rent rooms in other peoples homes, people live with a bunch of other people, or they live with their families, and extended families, when I worked for the government last year, and I was going around interviewing people, the majority of people we’re living in small homes and apartments, with all of their relatives, that mix of so many people living in these confined spaces contributes to the insanity and chaos.

Everything’s expensive, and everything has a price, I had to go to an “underground dentist” in order to get the treatment I needed because my health net insurance wouldn’t cover those procedures and the dentist office I go to wanted to charge me hundred and thousands of dollars. Food is extremely expensive, alongside Gas, Rent, Utilities, I don’t mind saying this, I supplement myself with grey area economic dealings, but like everyone else I too worry about the bills, and it’s extremely stressful and makes me suicidal at times. But everything is expensive, from car registration to insurance, everything is fucking expensive.

Mainstream American Culture is super dumb, loud, chaotic, and fast, and over Sexualized, it’s pretty much like that movie idiocracy, that’s why we voted for someone like Trump to lead us, it’s a society, where every song on the radio is vapid, vulgar, extremely corporate, Celebrities are like Gods here in America, and the public follows everything they do, as if they’re part of them, or they’re cheering them on, there’s also this faux progressivism that makes everything polite, and nice, and it’s hated and despised by people, especially right wingers, because it comes off as so fake, and contrived, Mainstream culture has become extremely Bland, they use LGBTQI culture to further that blandness, it’s all so damn fake.

The interpersonal relationships people have with one another, are highly volatile, and weird, you could be literally dating someone, and a little thing occurs, and they block you on social media and that’s it, the vast majority of people are weird, and strange, you meet them at work, college, wherever, and they’ll reveal that shit about themselves. Finding people, like a collection of people, is hard, one of my best friends is a filmmaker lives in Echo Park in Los Angeles, and when I told him I’m going to focus on being in the LA arts scene, he revealed that he wants to too, thus revealing that he still hasn’t found anyone, and he went to art school!

People also don’t like talking over the phone which honestly makes me violently mad, for example my college girlfriend, preferred we’d talk over Instagram, and when I’d be all like, I’m going to call you, she’s be like I don’t like talking over the phone, when we’d be together her vibe wasn’t even like someone you’d think would not want to talk over the phone, but later on while in the car with some friends, one of my friends said, “some people like to talk, talk over the phone, or just text” and I was sitting there steaming, because I couldn’t believe how everyone just accepts this, if you are lucky to make friends with a collection of people, then you quickly have to adjust to what I call “normalcy life” going to bars, going to music shows, etc, and that can be nice up to an extent, but if you want deeper conversation or connection, or some sort of impulse towards adventure, you better look elsewhere. At most those people are just going to be down to snort Coke with you and do drugs.

There’s no conception of the future, having a future, certain friends will try to pretend like they’re going somewhere, but they aren’t, everyone pretty much is stranded, because there’s not enough money anymore in circulation, to live from. I’m 29 years old, I have friends in the same age range who aren’t married and who don’t have kids, and none of us talk about having kids or getting married anymore. Everyone’s more concerned about the struggles and stresses of the present. The friends that did have kids, are pretty much stranded in unhappy marriages or relationships, and it’s hell for them.

There’s no help either. Whatsoever, none of my friends, or people I know can ask their parents for help, either because their parents don’t have the money, or they’re neglectful or they’re totally fucked up.

If anything all these things have revealed a truly barbaric society, that is misogynistic and sexist, that is racist, that is prejudice against people who have physical and mental ailments and so on.

This will be part 1. Of my revealing of American life, diary posts.

#poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #my thoughts #diary #personal diary #my musings

[whatdoesshedotothem]

x Thursday 30 May 1839

6 50/..

12 ¼

Incurred a cross sometime after getting into bed thinking of A- and she snoring by me very fine morning – making memoranda F56 ½° inside and 55° outside now at 7 50/.. am and went out with Robert the joiner – hurt at Booths’ manner of speaking to him yesterday – all mistake and with Robert Mann till 9 ½ had Jagger under surveyor of the Goldey road to ask to set them slope down the high ridge on my side as they have done on the Sour milk hall side – said I did not like to refuse him, but did not like my green [?] being do denuded they take the sod (he said only 2 yards back) to cover their new slope – would be done for 3/6 a rood – at last, if the commissioners would let me carry my Lodge wall down in a straight line (cut off the corner left) I would consent at once to the slope being done – breakfast at 9 ½ in about ½ hour or more – then had A- out with me – to Listerwick, and about home – till about 11 ¼ - then with DB. took him and Robert Mann up to Walker pit to see about the pit-toad sheds, and colliery conveniences – sinking the present road would be somewhere about 350 yards of stuff to shift extra – and sinking 4 yards about the pit etc. would altogether = 1700 or 1800 yards of stuff – shewed them my intention as to masking the conery wood wall – and fencing off the wood, and turning part of what used to be wood into field – remainder of the old some of the pit all to be moved and a good job and good field to be made of the whole – then talked over the laundry court road job – the road to be stoned at convenience – the stuff shifting to be done immediately – would take Robert and John and Sam Booth 3 weeks – then Robert to take the colliery job and its belongings, and have all ready at WP. by the time the main gates are driven up – they will drive off these 2 yards a day but of the mine(=80 yards) from the coal-workings up into WP. they would hardly drive a yard a day .:. say 160 days + 23 Sundays = 183 days

300+435 = 735÷2 = 367 ½ days + 53 Sundays = 420 days

.:. the main gates = about 1 year and 2 months and the mine = 26 weeks or ½ year

.:. if the main gates are begun about 1 August they ought to up at WP. the 1st of October next year and if the mine is begun now for the sake of getting and siding the stuff, it ought to be done by Xmas – the gin to be set directly and the stuff to be carted to the spot where wanted – and to begin as soon as Thomas G- has cut his hay grass – he has now sown the field his house stands in with the 3rd crop of oats, full as the land is of [quicks] – I said I was as bad as he to let him do so – yes! RM. thought I was – Told DB. to give G- notice I could not allow this kind of farming – DB. to be put into my place, but Robert M- (under him) to be answerable for keeping the horses employed – explained about cistern to be placed at the mouth of the water drift that falls into the low fish pond, and about 14lbs. to the yard inch lead pipe to be laid from there to the present lead cistern – came in about (after) 3 – ordered cold meat for DB- and he was to go immediately afterwards to the clerk of the gas light and coke company with the tender of coal – (vide p. 101 line 14) – DB. copied what I wrote yesterday – and took it with him – just before he came this morning about before 11 came someone from Mr. Crossley, the attorney, of Bradford and served upon me a written in the matter of Messrs. Nelsons masons – I told the man I would have nothing to do with it – he might throw it down upon the ground if he chose, and so he did and I called William Lord to pick it up and give it to Robert Mann, and almost immediately came Booth who (it seemed) was in the servants hall, and whom I called to the spot, and Robert M- gave him (DB.) the written which I told DB. to take to Mr. Parker – sometime (from after 3) with Robert the joiner ordering about the housemaids closet – told him I had spoken to Booth who never meant to say anything to hurt him, and was sorry he has been so mistaken by Robert – all right – then till 5 (A- had returned in the meantime and sat writing her journal by me) wrote all but the 1st line of today – she had begun yesterday and finished this morning tracing copy of my case estate plan – nicely done – at 5 20/.. William Keighley came – to have his bill paid – settled

SH:7/ML/E/23/0055

with him – then had Holt till 6 ½ - he takes the farm, on agreement to value on and off at £70 a year but I agree to make his salary for taking care of the colliery on condition that he does A-‘s bits of measuring and care taking £20+£10 so that his rent is in reality £40 per annum and I told him I thought there were £20 per annum of cottages to let off if he chose – but that I should only put the place in tenantable repair – he agreed to take £20 per annum for the colliery and DB. to have the same I said I should give him Holt the extra ten pounds as a separate thing – he seemed very well satisfied – said he should try to agree with john Oates tomorrow if he could – It was understood on Tuesday that I reserve the bit of ground Mallinson has – and it must also be understood that holt must give me a blue vote, or, tho’ he may enter I will quit him; for it is so notorious that I make a point of this that my not having thought of naming it at the moment ought to make no difference – I told him if the colliery was let, he would have no chance for it; and he must think whether it would be disagreeable or not, to have some sorts of tenants of the pit – I asked if WP. could be set going by 1 October 12 months yes! could £200 be cleared by Xmas towards the engine – ye! Did he think he could keep the colliery in my own hands – he would try, and said it as if he intended it should be kept in my own hands and pay me well – he will not mend the wages of the men driving up to AP. so that the 2 gates stand at as let 3/. per yard and 1/. per yard as let with task of coal – he said he would keep them as tight to it as they did their own – on asking who there was to succeed him, he said his brother Joseph – I said I should not name it but should take notice of him – but as for him, he would be a new man – it would be different – meaning he must pay the rent – H- will be here at 10 am tomorrow

tell him I must have his vote

and Mallinsons’ bit of ground

and will only put the place into tenantable repair –

dinner at 7 – to 8 – when came upstairs – finished our bottle of champagne brought up yesterday and A- slept on the bed by me till after 10 – from 8 to 11 at accounts – my own rental and looking over rent book – very slovenly kept by SW. no entry at all of Sutcliffe wood farm – very fine day – F56 ½° inside and 48° outside now at 11 ¼ pm – Letter tonight 2pp. from Marian – Mrs. Button died last Monday evening – her legacy to Marian £120 – Marian thankful High Royds is sold – for £2250 to be paid for 20 July – note from the philosophical society – paper to be read on the China opium trade -

[troutfishinginmusic]

The story of Grass Records: From Brainiac to Wind-Up and Creed

                                                              Images via Grass of ’96 compilation 

Everything isn’t available in the streaming era. There are notable gaps in the seemingly bottomless amount of music currently available. Some of the most noticeable exclusions are albums released on Grass Records.

If you’re a fan of ’90s indie music, this short-lived New York label mattered. Though sometimes dismissed as a sibling label to Homestead Records, Grass released over 60 full-length albums ranging from pop to punk to noise to experimental music. It raised the profile of influential bands like Brainiac, Toadies and the Wrens. 

The amazing thing about the label is how consistent it is. Every time I thought I was done with this article, I would listen to a band like Baboon and be completely blown away. These are all fascinating, idiosyncratic bands. This is more incredible considering the label was only around for about four years.

Much of this music is hard to find. The odd song might be lingering on YouTube, but you’re almost better off looking at your local record store or ordering from Discogs.

Why are the albums in this weird limbo? Mostly because the monied interest who bought the label in 1996 thought it wasn’t yielding a big enough return on the investment. Grass was gutted and rebranded into post-grunge/nu metal giant Wind-Up. Money poured in and these wonderfully weird records were swept to the side.

The following interviews were conducted via email, Facebook messenger and phone over the last few months. Quotes from the interviews have been edited for style/clarity. I’m eternally grateful to everyone who got back to me. I am also willing to expand this story if more former Grass artists want to reach out. If you’re one of these artists, my email is at the bottom of this story.

Seedlings

“I started in the music business purely by chance,” said Camille Sciara, who founded Grass Records.

Sciara got her start working at Record World in New York as a second job and became friendly with the store’s buyer. After attending a manager training program, she moved on to become a manager of the store. Her second job became her first.

“Then, after two years there, I became bored managing a record store and my friend Mike, the buyer, told me about Dutch East India,” Sciara said. “I started there as a salesperson and, after a year of sales, became the buyer when that position opened up. I never envisioned starting a label.”

While working as a buyer at Dutch East India Trading a friend sent her a Toadies cassette. She “loved it” and started Grass in 1993 to release it.

Grass released the Toadies EP Pleather soon after, which contained an early version of the band’s inescapable alternative hit “Possum Kingdom.” After Pleather, the band scored a major label deal with Interscope. The platinum-selling Rubberneck arrived in 1994.

“They did really well on their first major release,” Sciara said in an email interview. “But then it appeared that Interscope just dropped the ball or lost interest. They were such a great band live, I never understood how they weren't huge stars. And super cool people.”

Tall grass

Sciara would go on to sign unique and influential bands like Brainiac and The Wrens.

“Since I had never run a label before, I was going purely on how much I liked what they submitted,” Sciara said. “Obviously not the best business model for running a label, but for the money we offered it worked to some respect. The longer I ran the label, the more I understood what was needed from them [the bands] regarding can they tour etc.”

There were few bands of the 90s that radiated weirdo energy as brightly and brilliantly as Brainiac. The documentary Transmissions from Zero chronicles the significant impact the band had on the music scene at the time. It also shows a band on the brink of mainstream success. Brainiac released two albums on Grass, Smack Bunny Baby and Bonsai Superstar, before departing for Touch & Go. The band’s forward motion was sadly cut short by Tim Taylor’s death in 1997. Prior to this, Interscope was expressing interest in the band.

“If Tim hadn't passed I'm pretty sure they'd have been the biggest [band on the label],” Sciara said.

Original Brainiac guitarist Michelle Bodine said Grass’ association with Dutch East India made the label initially attractive.

“[Camille] was super excited about us and we had total creative freedom,” Bodine said. “We also liked the 2-record deal with the option of 3 contract.”

After leaving Brainiac, Bodine would go on to play guitar and sing in O-Matic. The band released its lone album Dog Years in 1996. The album is one of the overlooked gems of the ’90s.

The Wrens’ influence reverberated in more subtle ways. The band’s first two albums, Silver (1994) and Secaucus (1996), provided a blueprint for much of the post-Pixies landscape of ’90s indie rock. They could’ve been much bigger, but still made a significant impression.

“The depth of realization in this record is unparalleled: every angle is perfected,” Pitchfork founder Ryan Schreiber said about Secaucus. The band’s third long awaited album, Meadowlands, dropped in 2001 and received a “Best New Music” tag from the same publication.

Rumblings of a follow-up to Meadowlands have been thrown around for the last 10 years, but a record has yet to materialize.

The level of talent the label had was staggering. A few groups Sciara thought would be bigger ranged from the Irish dream-pop band Chimera to Georgia punk band Sunbrain. “There's more, it would be long list,” Sciara said.

New shoots

Baltimore

Baltimore punk band Liquor Bike had released one album before signing a two-record deal with Grass. The band’s first release on the label was Neon Hoop Ride in 1993. Liquor Bike was excited to be on the label because of the Homestead Records connection.

“We loved being on Grass, we toured like crazy,” singer/guitarist David Koslowski said. “We had great booking with Creature Booking.”

Between the booking agency, which had done work with Nirvana, Helmet, the Lunachicks and Jesus Lizard; and the new label things were looking up for the band. The band would have posters up in whatever towns they were playing in and mentions in the local paper. The label would keep them up to date if they had to do things like impromptu radio interviews. When they got off the road, they entered the studio to record The Beauty of Falling Apart. During this time Alan Meltzer, who bought the label from Sciara in 1996, entered the picture.

“At the onset we were pretty psyched because this guy’s got major label distribution,” Koslowski said.

It also helped that Sciara stayed on after the transition.

“We could still work with Camille, who we love,” Koslowski said. “We slept at Camille’s house when we would play up in New York. She’s an amazingly nice, sweet person and very giving.”

Koslowski said the band was given significantly more to record the follow-up based on buzz the band was getting at the time. J Robbins, of Jawbox and Burning Airlines fame, did the cover art and Drew Mazurek produced the album. The band even hired John Lay, who had previously worked with Squeeze, to manage the band.

“By that point we were having decent guarantees,” Koslowski said. “Those two years when I was on Grass I barely worked a real job. I wasn’t making a rockstar living or anything, but I was certainly able to pay my rent and utilities.”

Liquor Bike went on tour with Gas Huffer to promote the forthcoming record. On the tour Koslowski noticed there weren’t posters out and the band didn’t receive write-ups in the local press. To make matters worse, they never received CDs of The Beauty of Falling Apart to sell at shows. Koslowski said Grass had promised this.

“We were pretty confused," Koslowski said. “I mean our record had been mastered already, everything had been sent to the factory.”

Lay soon informed the band Sciara had been fired and the band had been dropped. Koslowski said the band decided to stay on the tour even after being kicked off the label. The band had old records and T-shirts to sell. They had put a lot of work into the tour and didn’t want to waste it.

Liquor Bike eventually released its third album on Merkin after failed meetings with Amphetamine Reptile, Columbia and Interscope. It was the band’s last before the members went their separate ways.

Seade was another band on on Grass that was unfortunately overlooked. Their lone album (Perf) is an underrated ’90s classic.

Prior to Meltzer, Koslowski said that he didn’t think there was any favoritism toward any one band despite the label being so prolific.

“I just think the woman loved music and wanted to spread that out to people,” Koslowski said of Sciara. “I think she legitimately wanted to help people, you know, help these bands out. She was nothing but giving.”

Omaha

Mousetrap, an Omaha-based punk band, hoped to initially get a deal with Homestead when it sent in two 7” singles.

“Camille really liked our singles and got in touch with us.” Patrick Buchanan, Mousetrap’s singer/guitarist said in an email interview. “We developed a great relationship with her, and eventually she offered to sign us — we were given the opportunity to sign either with Homestead OR with Grass, which was a brand-new label at the time.”

Buchanan said the band thought it would possibly get overlooked in Homestead’s large stable of well-established bands and decided to sign with Grass.  He also said Sciara made a large difference.

“Camille was one of the coolest people we had ever met in ‘the business’ – she just seemed really genuine, straightforward and honest,” he said. “Those are the types of people we wanted to work with. So our relationship with Camille was probably the main thing that made us sign with Grass.”

Mousetrap would go on to release three albums on the label, starting with Cerebral Revolver in 1993. The band was a big influence on Commander Venus, an Omaha band featuring a young Connor Oberst.

“They were definitely a big deal in Omaha and everybody loved them,” Oberst said of Mousetrap in an episode of the Turned Out a Punk podcast earlier this year.

Commander Venus came in contact with Grass through Mousetrap. The band signed to the label when Oberst was only 14. The band also featured Rob Nansel, who would go on to co-found Saddle Creek Records. Oberst said the band recorded its first album, Do You Feel At Home, in 1995.

“That was a good experience and a learning experience,” Oberst said. “I also think it kind of made it more apparent that even if you do get an opportunity like that, you know, you’re a little fish in a big pond. And maybe people aren’t going to work as hard or care about it.”

He said that this was mitigated by having the support system of a local scene in Omaha. The band ended up releasing its 1995 debut on Lumberjack, which later became Saddle Creek. The band released one more album, The Uneventful Vacation, before Oberst formed Bright Eyes.

Promoting growth

Alan Meltzer came into the picture with a retail background. He had previously owned Titus Oaks Records in Long Island. He went on to found CD One Stop in 1985, which was purchased by Alliance in 1993. Meltzer became Alliance’s president during this time but left the company in 1995. Meltzer acquired Grass in 1995 from Dutch East India Trading (the label’s owner/distributor), finalizing major label distribution through BMG in 1996.

“When I heard the Grass repertoire, I almost fell down,” Meltzer said in a 1996 Billboard Magazine article. “I heard so much good material.”

“Alan was shopping around looking to purchase an established label with an extensive catalog that he could pour endless money into,” Sciara said. “He originally wanted Homestead Records. A great label owned by Dutch East as well. But once he saw the contracts and issues with some of the ‘grey’ areas in them, he then moved on to Grass.”

Meltzer did have some legitimate interest in the label as an artistic venture.

“He absolutely was obsessed with the Wrens once he heard them and Commander Venus,” Sciara said. “He was sure with all his resources, money and big ass staff he could make them huge stars. He failed. Not the bands’ fault.”

Grass would have the name (and credibility) of an indie, but the corporate reach of a major. Meltzer looked at the new situation as the best of both worlds.

“We’re not a major label, but we’re not an undercapitalized, disorganized independent that’s out there on a wing and prayer,” Meltzer said. “We’re somewhere in the middle. We’re staffed, we have the organization, and we’ve got the know-how. I opted for major distribution because the majors are better at it.”

Grass kept Sciara on as a VP of A&R (artists and repertoire) and expanded Grass’ workforce to 20 in-house employees, according to the Billboard article. The label’s future looked bright. Bodine left Brainiac and formed O-Matic (also signed to Grass) when the change happened.

“…It seemed better – they had a nice office in Manhattan with an open stairwell area and glass walls,” Bodine said. “It was very modern and cool. The budget was much bigger. They hired more people and we felt like we had a good support system.”

“When we went there it felt like money,” Koslowski said.

Koslowski only met Meltzer once at a Grass Christmas party.

“He was a typical New York money guy when I met him,” Koslowski said. “I didn’t get a good vibe. He didn’t have that indie spirit that Camille had unfortunately.”

The meeting didn’t go well.

“I remember drinking a bit and messing with him,” Koslowski said. “I said ‘hey Alan I wanted to see if I could run this by you. You know that new Liquor Bike record we’re working on? We got the artwork but we just wanted to run the title by you and make sure it’s cool. We want to call it Eat My Fuck Asshole.’”

Meltzer and his wife were horrified, according to Koslowski.

Yellowing, patchy

In an oral history with Stereogum, Wrens bassist and singer Kevin Whelan said the band was picking up steam.

“So Secaucus came out and it started to do somewhat well and “Surprise Honeycomb” was starting to get recognized and played on different shows, and we thought that international fame was around the corner,” Whelan said.

And then the call came in.

“He [Meltzer] said, ‘Well, boys, I’m not going to give you any more money. If you don’t sign with me today, it’s over.’ So, I remember, we sat in the van, we looked at the empty gas tank and we were like, ‘Well, I guess we’re not signing, let’s get the credit cards out and see how we can get home.’”

According to the Wrens’ website bio, Meltzer wasn’t pleased.

“[Meltzer], infuriated, commences layoffs of involved record company personnel and vows that ‘the next band to walk through that door will be made famous – at any cost,’” the bio states. “The next band through the door is Creed. Grass Records becomes Wind-Up Records. Creed becomes famous at any cost.”

By the time of the Wind-Up transition, Moustrap had already fulfilled its contract when it released its third album The Dead Air Sound System.

“At that time, Mousetrap was not very active,” Buchanan said. “I think we had become rather disheartened by how much time and love we put into the band, while getting very little recognition on any type of national level. At that point we were physically and mentally exhausted by constant touring and recording, with very little in the way of tangible success to show for it. So we didn’t really have any relationship with the label by the time it became Wind-Up.”

When the label wasn’t as successful as Meltzer thought, he brought in Steve Lerner. This was effectively the end of Grass Records.

“I was let go along with 8 to 10 others when Meltzer brought in Steve Lerner to run the company,” Sciara said. “The new staff felt Grass was too much related to me so hence a name change.”

“With Lerner serving as his right-hand man, the duo transformed Wind-up into a $100 million-plus sales operation with multi-platinum acts like Evanescence and Creed,” a 2007 Billboard article said.

Death, new high-yield crops

Grass was rebranded as Wind-Up, a key player in the nu metal and post-grunge universe, in 1997. Many of the Grass bands were dropped to make room for the likes of Finger Eleven, Creed and Evanescence. Meltzer, who ran the label with his wife at the time Diana, finally found his cash machine.

“I was extremely happy because, although Creed was a mega-seller and saved his label, I wanted nothing to do with that and the direction the label was taking,” Sciara said. “Not knocking it. You need artists like that to sustain a label that had an enormous payroll and nice offices. I totally get it, it’s a business. But I was happy running a small label with smaller contacts and cooler bands that didn't have to compromise their sound to write a ‘hit.’ That’s what he was always looking for.”

The transition to Wind-Up in 1997 did have some overlap with former Grass artists. The second Commander Venus album was released by Wind-Up and Thick (with a later release on Saddle Creek). Pollen, a rough-edged pop-punk act that had released two albums on Grass, dropped Peach Tree on Wind-Up. Baboon’s sophomore album Secret Robot Control was also released in 1997 on the new label.

Slowpoke’s Virgin Stripes, the final vestige of Grass Records, was a co-release with DGC in 1998. The album didn’t break the band, but it’s not a stretch to imagine it could have (especially since it boasted a song as infectious as “Belladonna”). The album retains some of band’s outsider noisy energy, but delivers it in a package palatable enough for the post-grunge crowd. Past this point, Wind-Up focused mostly on its new sound.

Koslowski didn’t initially know Wind-Up was the successor to Grass. One day someone mentioned to him that he was labelmates with Creed.

“I was like ‘wow, OK I guess he got his hit,’” Koslowski said.  

Meltzer died in 2011 at 67. He made headlines by leaving $1 to his chauffeur and $500,000 to his doorman. Bodine saw this as frustrating because of how he left things with other Grass bands.

“He owed lots of bands money so it’s just really fucked up that he didn’t pay them/us. Liquor Bike did get theirs before he died only because they were persistent,” said Bodine.

In 2013 Wind-Up was purchased by Bicycle Music Company with distribution by Concord Music Group. In 2015 the two companies merged to form Concord Bicycle Music. Craft Recordings manages the label’s reissues.

https://www.youtube.com/embed/wZBpr1tDktI

Rare strain

Aside from Brainiac and The Wrens, many of the bands on the label aren’t on streaming platforms. The physical releases on Grass are mostly out of print. A sea of fantastic experimental indie music remains in this gray area. This doesn’t seem to be changing.

“Unfortunately, I haven’t a clue about if there are plans of Wind-Up re-releasing any back catalog,” Sciara said. “It’s sad really. Holding peoples’ artistic work hostage or just ignoring it seems cruel. Hopefully Wind-Up did the right thing and gave them back their masters, rights etc. Or at least license it to someone else to release.”

The three Mousetrap albums are stuck in this place.

“I wish more people had the chance to hear our music, so yeah I wish it was easily available,” said Buchanan. “Sure, we wanted to be popular — but the most important thing for us was that we made the music we wanted to make. We always did things our way — for ourselves, with no regrets. So even if the albums are harder to get, we’ll always have the memories — and those who were there to witness it will, too.”

Liquor Bike’s lawyer was able to secure the master tapes and artwork for The Beauty of Falling Apart with no questions asked. The band also has the master tapes for Neon Hoop Ride.  

“Crazily enough, Grass did not make us buy Beauty of Falling Apart from them,” Koslowski said. “I have heard from some of my fellow Grass artists that they wanted to charge an incredible amount of money.”

Neon Hoop Ride was remastered and briefly available on streaming services. The album was only available digitally and did not get a physical rerelease.

Greener pastures

Following her departure from Grass, Sciara started Ten23 (Oct. 23, 1996 was the day she was fired from Grass). The label released The Wren’s EP 1135 before folding.

“It seemed like a great idea,” she said. “Didn't put out anything else after that release. It was an expensive endeavor starting a label from scratch, so to speak, and at the time I was unemployed.”

From there she went on to work at the Knitting Factory label group and eventually Narnack Records. She uprooted from N.Y. to move to L.A. to work at the latter. She eventually ended up back in N.Y. where she was a manager at Petland Discounts for 12 years until it closed in 2019.

Buchanan has gone on to release music as Vicious Lovers. Mousetrap has plans to release new music for the first time in 20 years according to Buchanan. Some of Mousetrap’s music can be streamed here:

Michelle Bodine went on to play guitar in Shesus, which was signed to Narnack. The band released an album and an EP before splitting up. Bodine has since been participating in Brainiac reunion shows and was featured in the Brainiac documentary Transmissions from Zero.

David Koslowski went on to play in the post-rock band Vivid Low Sky and the power-pop band Gerty. He currently owns a coffee shop/record store in Baltimore called Baby’s on Fire.

“I loved every aspect of being on Grass, except for the very end,” Koslowski said. “I also loved how diverse Camille had the label. A lot of friends from that time from those bands, I’m still friends with them. It was like a really cool little group of people that all got to share in something for as brief of a time period as it was.”

If you have questions, information or concerns I can be reached at [email protected].

CORRECTION: A previous version of this article spelled David’s last name as Kozlowski. It’s actually Koslowski. Also, J. Robbins just did the cover art for the band’s third album. Drew Mazurek actually produced it. Godplow is a great band but they’re from Minneapolis, not Baltimore.

#grassrecords #indie #90s #brainiac #thewrens #mousetrap #liquorbike #baboon #toadies #omatic

[skypalacearchitect]

Sandy Saeteurn grew up in Richmond, California, where Chevron’s massive 3,000-acre oil refinery reigns supreme. She’s no stranger to the refinery’s chemical flares, and she spent many of her childhood days home sick. She’s not the only one who has learned to link the refinery and the presence of illness in her community: A 2008 study (co-authored by Grist board member Rachel Morello-Frosch) found that almost half of all homes in the area had indoor levels of refinery-related particulate matter pollution that exceeded the state’s air quality standards.

Every day for nearly 120 years — longer than the city has existed — the refinery has processed thousands of barrels of oil. Its flares regularly paint the sky burnt orange before thick grey clouds of smoke cover the city. Chevron’s influence stretches beyond its pollution and the 3,500 refinery jobs it provides as the city’s largest employer — it also showers money on local elections and even runs a local newspaper, the Richmond Standard, which has been known to cast a positive light on the company.

Ever since Black residents first arrived in large numbers in the 1940s, people of color have been relegated into low-quality housing surrounding the city’s large industrial zones. Today the city, which is 82 percent non-white and home to large groups of migrants from Latin America and Southeast Asia, has worse air pollution than 94 percent of the country, according to data from the Environmental Protection Agency, which has cited the refinery for environmental violations roughly 150 times since 2016. The city’s childhood asthma rate is more than double the national average and, in the immediate aftermath of an explosion at the refinery in 2012, more than 15,000 people were forced to seek medical treatment for respiratory distress.

Chevron funds around one-third of Richmond’s annual budget through taxes and municipal services the company provides, which includes education and workforce development programs. When the company wanted to modernize its facility in 2008, it offered the city $11 million for the Richmond Police Department to “increase the number of police officers on the street,” according to a document outlining Chevron’s community benefits agreements with the city. The modernization project was eventually blocked after community groups sued the city for failing to do a proper environmental impact analysis, but a 2015 agreement between Richmond and Chevron ultimately set aside $2 million for Richmond police. Over the past decade, Richmond police have arrested hundreds for protesting the plant’s emissions.

As a child, Saeteurn and her family didn’t think to connect the Chevron plant and their disposition to illness. “Growing up there was a lot of explosion drills, and we never understood what they meant,” Saeteurn told Grist. “In elementary school, Chevron would come and have certain programs for kids, giving us money for books and school supplies. I left elementary school thinking ‘oh wow, Chevron’s a great company,’ when in reality they were slowly killing us.”

Saeteurn’s lighthearted view of Chevron didn’t last long. By age 14, she was a dedicated organizer and member of the Asian Pacific Environmental Network, or APEN, which is based in both Richmond and nearby Oakland. She’s used her struggles against environmental injustices to fuel her work, helping to organize influential campaigns such as the first-ever county-wide multilingual warning system, which now warns Richmond residents of looming chemical flares in Spanish, Chinese, Vietnamese, and Lao.

In response to questions from Grist, Chevron provided a statement saying that its Richmond workforce “takes its role as good neighbors seriously and continually works to reduce our environmental footprint and to improve reliability.” The statement listed modernization projects, such as a new hydrogen processing unit, which have contributed to reducing the site’s “air emissions by 86 percent over the last 40 years,” according to the company.

Because of the way issues like a growing housing crisis, immigration, and police violence intersect in the San Francisco Bay area — where more than 350 refineries and fossil fuel companies are based — Saeteurn and other organizers at APEN have been at the forefront of reframing the environmental justice movement to incorporate all aspects of residents’ encounters with their lived environments, whether that’s unwanted interactions with the police or gentrification and the displacement of poorer people from their home communities. This is a reimagining of the traditional focuses of environmental organizations that have long prioritized organizing around issues like toxic waste or access to public parks, while leaving issues like housing and criminal justice to different organizations.

“We think of environmental justice as being about how our communities get to be in relationship with our environment,” Alvina Wong, APEN’s campaign and organizing director, told Grist. “That means trees, air, and water — but also our neighborhoods, our homes, and how we get to be in relationship with each other.”

Saeteurn, a local political director with the group, said that this message resonates with the residents APEN serves.

“When the community talks about the environment, they’re not talking about clean air or water — what they’re really talking about is their struggles,” she explained. “So when we talk with the community about how the environment is impacting them, they’re not saying ‘oh yeah, Chevron’s in my backyard.’ They’re saying, ‘I can’t afford my rent. Oh yeah, the energy bill is going up and now I can’t afford food.’”

Besides continuing a long struggle with Chevron in Richmond, APEN has also been a crucial part of recent campaigns to move millions of dollars away from Richmond and Oakland police to do things like building new supportive housing for people experiencing homelessness and mental illness, as well as increasing residents’ access to healthy food through affordable markets. The organization has worked on recent campaigns for rent control and tenant rights in both cities, including mutual aid projects to crowdsource funds for rent and food for community members. It has fought to pass the Tenant Opportunity to Purchase Act, which would grant tenants two months notice and the first opportunity to purchase their home if their landlord plans to put their building on the market.

“Our work is trying to make the connection to a bigger kind of struggle related to racism,” said Saeteurn. “We’re here next to a refinery because of racism, which is the same reason why our members get stopped by the police or harassed on the streets. Environmental justice is about who we can call community, and what access we have to the environment around us.”

APEN came to fruition after a proposal at the First National People of Color Environmental Justice Leadership Summit in 1991, when summit participants noticed that Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders were largely underrepresented. The summit was attended by activists from everywhere from Puerto Rico to Vietnam and Laos, as well as other territories struggling with American chemical waste. During and following the American bombing of Vietnam and Laos in the 1960s and 1970s, thousands of Southeast Asian migrants fled to the Bay area and Richmond in particular. Connecting the dots between environmental injustices in America and the environmental fallout from American firebombing and the use of Agent Orange in their home countries, Bay area delegates decided to form an organization centered on the leadership of Asian immigrant and refugee communities.

“APEN is so successful because our organizing incorporates our cultural heritage and our own legacy fighting aggression and chemical warfare in our homelands,” Wong said. “For us, this memory of how our homelands were affected both physically and culturally by environmental violence and war allows us to really address the root causes of injustice.”

Since 1991, APEN has been an unstoppable organizing force, working to pass bills mitigating pollution, like SB32, which in 2016 laid the foundation for many greenhouse gas emission goals we see today. In 2018, they were part of a coalition that helped push Chevron to pay out a $5 million settlement for its 2012 explosion. Most recently, APEN helped spearhead the Reimagining Public Safety Task Force in Richmond, which just passed a reallocation of $10 million away from Richmond police to fund various community services. (In a short phone interview with Grist, Richmond Mayor Tom Butt acknowledged Chevron’s mighty role in city life and said that the city council is doing everything in its power to act as a counterweight to the fossil fuel giant.)

APEN is hardly alone in its expansive approach to environmental justice. It’s a member of the California Environmental Justice Alliance, which includes Bay area groups like Communities for a Better Environment, or CBE, and People Organizing to Demand Environmental and Economic Rights, or PODER. Two weeks ago, APEN, CBE, and PODER led Richmond’s participation in the 8th annual Global Anti-Chevron day of protest, drawing more than 100 people who participated in chants and painted murals in front of the refinery to protest the refinery’s emissions and hold it accountable for its alleged commitment to racial justice.

Denny Khamphanthong, an APEN community organizer who worked on the campaign to reallocate funds from Richmond’s police budget, says APEN’s approach to justice is not only about saving the environment around him, but also about building a safer future for his family’s next generations.

“What we’re all trying to do is build a better world so that our community can thrive,” Khamphanthong told Grist, “which requires our community to be funded and resourced in a way that feels most important to us, whether it be less police on our streets or less pollution in our air.”

#APEN #Asian Pacific Environmental Network #san francisco bay area #environmental justice #environmental activism #intersectionality #skypalacearchitect #idk what else to tag this