#//they got me training every manager/leader in the company on how to use a new time keeping system either via group or 1-on-1 meetings

[outofthiisworld]

💤// would anyone likes MEMES and what have you in their INBOX ? i do not have the mental fortitude for much this week due to work but i still would like to goof around on here. the catch is tho, like a vampire, i must be invited into your inbox home thanks to anxiety vampirism.

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x she/her reader

summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met

word count : 3.5k

notes : this is my first fanfic ever, the set up is a little slow but bear with me, the series will be a compilation of all my favorite tropes and in general everything i love to read in l&c fanfics, it's heavily inspired by everything i've read so far so thanks to all the amazing writers out there <3, a lot more happens in the second part that i will upload right next to this one

She wasn’t entirely surprised when she heard that George Karim had gotten fired from Fittes. He did a great job on the few occasions she got to work with him, but he always seemed to take his research too far. She remembered warning him several times.

“Supervisors aren’t as open-minded as I am, you’re gonna get in trouble if you keep bringing up your theories about the Problem to every person you interact with!”

“But don’t you find it weird how research has come so far and yet the Problem keeps growing? The official story tells us that an unidentified event caused it but what if it’s still going on? Wouldn’t you want to know what that was so we could finally put an end to this?”

When he put it that way, y/n couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Sure, I guess but it doesn’t justify going up to the fourth floor when it’s clearly closed to agents still in training!”

“Keep your head in the sand if you want but I’ll get to the bottom of this, I know I’m getting closer already.” George said with a proud smile on his face.

She’d laughed. He was stubborn but she found it endearing.

He had bragged about his latest discoveries after a case the both of them had been working on. It wasn’t the first time. They got along well and took the habit of grabbing an early morning snack on their way back from work. He would mostly tell her about his most recent theory, either about the Problem or his latest obsession, which could take a few hours. But y/n didn’t mind, she thought he was good company and it helped her relax after a case. Though aside from those few moments they didn’t spend that much time together. Especially since y/n became part of Quill Kipps’ crew.

A month ago, she had gotten the good news coming back to work after a weekend visiting her parents in her hometown south of London. She was ecstatic, her roommate El too. Especially El actually. Because they had such a huge crush on him. y/n didn’t quite understand it, but she did admire his career. He had a remarkable reputation among other Fittes agents and being part of his team would certainly boost her career as well. She had her heart set on moving up to management and someday become a prominent figure of the Fittes organization. But to reach this goal she’d need to be as remarkable as Kipps, better even. She wanted him to notice her, to see how great her Touch was but most importantly how organized and responsible she could be under pressure. She needed him to think she could be a great leader and sought his attention on every occasion. Because of that she and George drifted apart, going from work friends to acquaintances that simply exchanged passing hellos at the archives or the Fittes headquarters. Before she even thought of reaching out to him, he was gone.

“Did you hear?” El had asked her as she walked into their shared room.

“Heard what?”

“That annoying guy finally got fired!”

“What George? He wasn’t annoying he was sweet!”

“You have weird tastes in friends.”

“Yes, I do.” She told them with a wink.

“But do you know what happened? Most supervisors were pissed and wanted to involve the cops!”

“What? Why?”

“Because he tried to break into an office! They caught him trying to pick the lock! How crazy is that?” El seemed to relish the drama of the situation as their face lit up with a smile that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances.

“That is crazy but as much as I love to gossip, I really need to get some sleep.”

y/n got ready for bed and set her alarm for the following day. She had to do some research at the archives with her teammate. They would join Kipps later at the client’s house. It shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed to be a Type One but she really needed to impress him. She had to be the perfect agent: quick, focused and perfectly prepared. Even though she was always very professional she still needed some rest.

y/n was a heavy sleeper and had very vivid dreams. Ever since she was a child, she had some of her nights disturbed by complex dreams that felt so real she would wake up exhausted the next morning as if she hadn’t slept at all. It hadn’t happened in quite some time, but that night y/n wouldn’t get much rest. She found herself in the middle of the woods, barefoot, standing in a clearing. The ground was covered with an emerald green moss that felt soft beneath her feet. She looked around but couldn’t see much beside the shadows of the surrounding trees. A thick fog made it hard to see where she was. Disoriented and lost, she started walking towards the nearest tree but, a few steps in, her right foot sank in ice cold water. She realized she was in the middle of a pond, stuck and unable to reach the shore. A frog jumped into the water behind her and made her turn around. A girl was standing in front of her. Her auburn hair was slightly curled, and her bangs delicately framed her brown eyes. She was slightly smaller than she was, about the same age, her face showed no emotion at all.

“Find me.” She said in a neutral tone.

y/n furrowed her brow, not understanding what she meant. As she opened her mouth to ask her to explain the girl repeated

“Find me.”

Without moving she somehow floated above the pond and retreated into the woods. She mouthed the same words one last time before the fog engulfed her. y/n woke up with a jolt, disoriented and terribly thirsty. What was that about? she thought. She didn’t have time to ponder since she hadn’t heard her alarm and was already late to meet up with her colleague.

“I’m so sorry I’m late Bobby I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long…”

“It’s fine but hurry up. Kipps insisted on gathering as much information as possible.”

“Really? But everything indicates a Type One right?”

“The problem isn’t with the dead but with the living. Didn’t you pay attention to who our client is?”

“Mrs Overton? What about her?” Bobby had an exasperated look on his face and sighed heavily. So much for being the perfect agent today.

“Her husband owns Overton Watches and basically runs a luxury empire and she is on the board of the Sunrise Corporation. She and her husband are close friends with Penelope Fittes and we cannot screw up this case otherwise our team will probably end up at the bottom of her list next time she needs trustworthy agents.”

Oh, I’m not rested enough to deal with that.

“Okay then, let’s get to work.”

They spent the whole day at the agency’s archives. The Fittes database did help a lot to find more information about the Overtons’ house but overall, it was a pretty boring case. The house was old, dated back the 1800s, it belonged to Mrs Overton’s ancestors, one of them died because, well, they had to at some point, and felt like coming back. This great grandmother didn’t live any kind of extraordinary life and decided to haunt the place in the same unremarkable way. Y/n had trouble staying focused. The case was not fascinating, far from it. Her mind drifted and came back to her dream. In hindsight it wasn’t that disturbing. It was just her brain making stuff up. But she couldn’t shake the feeling she had felt when the girl had spoken to her. There was something magnetic about her voice and it had an intensity that didn’t match the lack of expression on her face. It bothered her. Why couldn’t she stop seeing her face?

Bobby got up to put back some newspapers and the sudden movement next to her brought her back to reality. Right, the Overton case. Everything indicated a Lurker, so y/n wasn’t too worried about tonight. She could still make up for today’s start. Plus, her talent would probably be the most useful. This unseemly case might serve her after all.

As she walked back to their table after putting a book back on its shelf, she accidently bumped into someone.

“Oh I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay don’t worry.”

“George? Hi! What are you doing here?”

“I came by to pick up the rest of my stuff…”

“Oh right… I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Don’t be I kinda deserved it anyway. Though I still think I was right.”

“About what?”

“Mrs. Dufour stealing sources. It’s pretty obvious she can’t afford to live the way she does on a supervisor’s salary, and she always looks like she’s plotting something. She reminds me of relic men. I never liked her.”

“Well to be fair you don’t like a lot of people… it looks like I missed your last hyperfixation… but it seems like a stretch and accusing her of something like that… Was it really worth getting into that much trouble?”

“I’m not chipper about it, but I’ll be fine. I already found something else, a friend I can still work with, maybe you know him. We live in-”

But y/n wasn’t listening. Bobby was calling her, telling her that they had to get moving to get to their client’s house before sundown.

“I really have to go George I’m sorry. But I’ll miss our walks filled with your crazy theories.” She said with a smile.

“If you want to come by for tea, we’d be happy to have you. 35 Portland Row, don’t forget!”

“Sure, I won’t! Good luck!”

“Thanks, you too.”

She hurried to catch up with her colleague. She really was going to miss him even though they weren’t that close she had grown used to seeing him around. But she couldn’t believe his theory about Mrs. Dufour. It sounded like he wanted to see evil everywhere and was looking for something to distract himself with. A made-up scenario that justified why he disliked her at the same time. Nothing more.

----

“Good evening, Madam, we are a leading team from Fittes. We were assigned to make your house safe again by Miss Fittes herself.”

Kipps always had a very humble way of introducing them to their clients. As proud as y/n was of being on his team, she didn’t feel entirely at ease with his elevated figures of speech.

“Yes, I was expecting you. Penelope told me she put one of her best teams on my case. I was very flattered.”

“Well, we do not want to appear overly confident, but we will be most efficient to take care of your problem. May we come in?” she asked.

“Of course, please. I suppose your supervisor will be here too?”

“Yes, Mrs. Dufour will be here shortly.” Kipps answered.

y/n abruptly turned around to look at him.

“Mrs. Dufour? What happened to Mr. Fowler?”

“He got called by DEPRAC to deal with some details on the last case we did. You know, the one where it only took you two minutes to find the source after Bobby and I spent a half hour looking for it. It was really impressive I was glad you were here.” He told her with a wink.

She felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to being praised and certainly not by a prominent agent like Quill Kipps, even after a month of working together she still felt flustered. Maybe that last case made up for the horrible impression she gave him on her first week. And she was going to keep proving him how great she was.

The praise was so unexpected it made her forget who their supervisor was for a moment. What were the odds that on the same day George told her about his suspicions she had to work with this potential traitor? She could not let George’s wild theories cloud her judgement. She was here to do a job, a relatively easy one given their research, and she was going to make a wonderful impression on both Kipps and this high-profile client. She took the lead and went inside.

As they stepped into the house, they were greeted by a white marble entrance furnished with glass cases displaying various clocks and watches, certainly a history of the famous Overton watches and mechanisms. The sun was already setting, it hit a crystal chandelier which reflected golden light over the walls. The pieces shone behind their glass. Their client guided them through the hall into the kitchen were teacups and biscuits had been served. Mrs. Overton took a seat and the three agents followed. She seemed at ease with the situation even though the young adults she had in front of her were here to rid her of a ghost. She sat at the head of the table, perfectly in control as if this meeting was a business reunion like any other. She was in her late fifties; her hair was silver and styled in an elaborate hairstyle. She looked both serious and relaxed at the same time. She was aware of the risks but wasn’t worried about the situation, like she had total faith in the team in front of her.

“While we wait for Mrs. Dufour maybe you could tell us more about what has been troubling you?” asked Kipps.

“I believe the haunting began about three weeks ago. My husband started feeling uneasy when he got home, and I felt the same fear shortly after. We never saw or heard anything we just feel watched.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Madam.” y/n tried to comfort her.

“The research we did on your house indicates that it’s been built in the 1800’s and never left your family is that correct?” Bobby interrupted.

“Yes, I inherited it about 2 years ago, but we only moved in this year.”

“We believe the haunting might be caused by one of your ancestors, a certain Emily Abbott, could you tell us anything about her?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of her before…”

“So, you wouldn’t have any idea what her source might be?”

“You might have a late night ahead of you. When we moved in, we kept most of the furniture that were already in the house. For all I know any of these pieces could be the source.”

That wasn’t good news. Hopefully with her Touch y/n could save them some time. They could start at the bottom of the house and work their way up, going from room to room as she touches different objects hoping for some result. As she organized the night in her head the front door opened.

Mrs. Dufour immediately filled the room with her presence. Mostly because she spoke at length and didn’t let the team finish asking their questions. She thanked Mrs. Overton for waiting for her, ushered her out of the house and gave them her directions for the night. Not even Kipps could object. She wanted him to stay nearby while Bobby and y/n were to explore the house to see if they could pick up anything. She felt for Kipps, this seemed like a monumental waste of time for him. But they couldn’t do much about it, agents were supposed to follow their supervisor’s instructions, they were in charge after all.

They searched the house until midnight, making rounds, going up and down the floors, looking for potential sources or trying to pick up any kind of psychical activity but came back downstairs empty handed. How was she supposed to impress anyone with a case like this? y/n and Bobby went back to the kitchen to report the lack of activity to Mrs. Dufour. 

“We’ve searched the entire house three times but unfortunately none of the objects we picked up gave any sign of psychical activity, the visitor hasn’t shown up yet and Mrs. Overton couldn’t give us more information. I’m not really sure what more we could do for now.” Bobby looked defeated. Or bored. Probably the latter, it was an exceptionally boring case. y/n was growing tired at the lack of action. It made her mad that someone could hire one of the best teams in London to take care of such a benign problem just because they had money and connections while hundreds of homes were threatened by harmful Type Twos and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Do I really have to tell you two how to do your jobs? Keep looking and take this seriously. I hope you realize who our client is, I can’t allow any mistake tonight.” Her authoritarian tone made y/n see why George disliked her. Clearly, they must have gotten into a few arguments on several occasions. But she couldn’t understand what would make him think that she could steal sources. She seemed to take her job very seriously. Sure, she was a pain but that didn’t mean she was a criminal.

“I’ve got something here! Bobby, y/n join me in the hall.” Kipps called.

They drew their rapiers and walked slowly into the hall. Kipps was looking at a corner where shadow had gathered. There was a faint, almost indistinguishable human shape lurking there. But it didn’t move, and it didn’t seem to want anything more than just stand there.

“I’m going to keep an eye on it while you two look for the source.” Kipps told them without averting his eyes from the dark figure.

“But what more can we do we looked everywhere already.” Bobby said with a sigh.

“Well,” Kipps turned to her. “y/n, got any ideas?”

She didn’t answer. She hadn’t heard them as she was lost in thought. Mrs. Overton hadn’t mentioned anything about the display cases here. But she should have. There were marks on the walls behind them, and again on the marble floor. It was a clear sign that bigger and heavier furniture had been removed to make room for new ones. That change alone could have triggered the ghost. And since they were behind glass, they hadn’t tested any of the objects on display. Though they were all Overton Watches so, clearly, they didn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. Another dead end. She lingered in front of the central display, slowly losing hope. If such a ridiculously small case was too much for her, what was she even doing here? Sure, the two guys accompanying her weren’t inspired either, but she was disappointed in herself. She had dealt with dangerous situations without flinching, but a Lurker case was getting the best of her. That was embarrassing. She rested her hands on the case and looked down at the watches. There were four watches spread across a silk white sheet surrounding a bigger, more ancient clock. They didn’t seem that impressive. Why were people making such a big deal out of them? The clock on the other hand was more ornate and had required skilled craftmanship. The mechanism was apparent and intricate. It was still working which was most impressive. A golden crown rested delicately upon a mother-of-pearl dial, the needles moving steadily around. Right beneath the number 6 was engraved something almost unreadable. She squinted to see better. The initials EA were written in golden letters.

“I’ve found it! The source! It’s this clock right here!”

“Nice work y/n. Keep an eye on the ghost I’ll take care of the source.”

They switched position and she kept her eyes on the shadow as Kipps tried to get the clock out of the display.

“I can’t get to it, it’s locked. I’m gonna have to break the glass.”

“No! Don’t do that Mrs. Overton would be livid. Bobby go get Mrs. Dufour and Kipps don’t touch anything please.” She said with her back to them, her eyes still staring at the corner.

“Did you find the source? What is it?” Mrs. Dufour asked, suddenly in a hurry.

“We have reasons to believe this clock is the object causing Mrs. Overton trouble.”

“That’s really nice work Mr. Kipps congratulations.”

“I much appreciate your praise, but it has to go to y/n. She found the source. As we don’t have a key, I offered to break the glass, but y/n thinks it would upset our client.”

“Well thank you Miss y/n for using some common sense. We cannot break anything in this house.”

“We could drape a silver net over the case and come back in the morning to pick up the source.” She offered.

“I think it would be best. Thank you again for your prompt judgement here.”

“It was my pleasure.” She blushed. It was nice to have her efforts acknowledged, no matter how small. This supervisor might have been a stickler, but she recognized good work, it was enough to satisfy her. This case turned out pretty well after all.

[tomodchis]

you've been unkind to me in my dreams for years. over and over you get to not want me. over and over i get to be the dog at your heels. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎. . .  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ،  ‎ ‎lev st. valentine

overview  ‎ ‎ ‎ ıllı ‎ ‎[ 🍀 ]    ‎♪ ҉     

(tomo)dachi — also stylized as DACHi or simply dachi — is a four piece co-ed group that debuted on july 27th, 2023 with bim bam bum. formed by the highly esteemed survival show lucky hour, they are praised for their vocals, storyline, and unique creative direction. the group’s consistent ‘cute’ sound has garnered them lots of attention. when asked if their sound ever got old after performing all day, every member was vehement in their positive answers.

dachi is managed by mystic story, an sm entertainment subsidiary. although dachi is not marketed as a sibling group of billlie, fans of both have drawn similarities between lore and wonder if it is all encapsulated within the same universe.

affectionately known by fans as an uneven group, the members of dachi are accustomed to curiousity. during the final episode of lucky hour, viewers were worried what type of dynamics would come out of a group with one man and three women. in fact, the group has been plagued with boycotts and unnecessary hate due to this. debut era was, arguably, the worst for the four of them, despite building up a strong fan base since episode one of lucky hour. the hate train has lessened with time — thanks to the multitude of viral moments, ambassador side jobs, etc — but twt comment sections are still filled with weirdos who use dachi as an example for… nothing in particular.

greeting ﹪  ❝ making new memories! hello, we are (tomo)dachi! ❞ fandom name ﹪  pockets fandom name meaning ﹪  fans are able to feel like they have the members in their pockets all the time, cheering them on genres ﹪  bubblegum pop, synthpop, electronic, dance years active ﹪  2023–present day

members ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ıllı ‎ [ 🏡 ]    ‎♪ ҉     

(홍제열) : hong jeyeol, 02 23 ‘97

. . . is a former child actor, model, and member of dachi. he’s been in the spotlight ever since he gained his ability to walk. thanks to his parents — hong siwan, movie director and angelina hong, supermodel — opportunities come incredibly easy. he decided to become an idol in his late teen years, rapidly switching companies before auditioning for sm and being moved to mystic story. jeyeol himself acknowledges his advantage among his peers. he frequently jokes about his place in dachi, saying how he rigged himself into the lineup with the help of his ‘mommy’s money’.

nicknames  ﹪  yeol, romeo, head of the sassy boy apocalypse identity ﹪  cis male, he / him, bisexual height  ﹪  5′11 birthplace  ﹪  busan, sk  ethnicity  ﹪  korean nationality  ﹪  korean position  ﹪ lead vocalist, lead dancer final rank ﹪ #2 fc  ﹪  lee jaehyun

(大江理恵) : ōe rie, chorong, 09 10 ‘00

. . . is a former professional cheerleader and member of dachi. chorong naturally looks for challenges everywhere in life. her biggest challenge for a long time was keeping up her competitive cheerleading career. she began at 8 years old but quit at 17 due to her kneecap shattering, altering her life’s course forever. she began looking into different occupations that she may not have looked twice at, which came the idea of becoming an idol. she moved from america to south korea all by herself and auditioned as an individual trainee for lucky hour. her ability to become a leader figure in virtually every situation has helped her form a multitude of connections. now that she’s an idol, possibilities seem endless.

nicknames  ﹪  cherry, 5th gen’s cheer captain identity ﹪  cis female, she / her, lesbian height  ﹪  5′5 birthplace  ﹪  san francisco, usa ethnicity  ﹪  korean-japanese nationality  ﹪  korean-american (dual citizenship) position  ﹪ main rapper, lead dancer, vocalist, leader final rank ﹪ #4 fc  ﹪  uchinaga aeri 

(고서이) : go seoyi, 12 03 ‘01

. . . is a member of dachi. she is the only member of the group to have no career in the public eye prior to appearing on lucky hour. she is delicate with her words, constantly thanking her parents for an ‘average’ life while also praising her fellow members for their talents and charm. her pure image during lucky hour absolutely enthralled the media which helped her rank in the number one spot. these days, no one can walk around south korea without seeing her face on billboards or hearing her voice in an advertisement. seoyi is, by far, the most popular member nationwide. it’s hard not to adore her.

nicknames  ﹪  gogo, everywhere-girl identity ﹪  cis female, she / her, bisexual height  ﹪  5′8 birthplace  ﹪  seoul, sk  ethnicity  ﹪  korean nationality  ﹪  korean position  ﹪ main vocalist, face of the group, center final rank ﹪ #1 fc  ﹪  kim gaeul

(은주비) : eun joobi, 04 29 ‘02

. . . is a member of dachi. eun’s idol career has spanned three generations in total: 3rd, 4th, and now 5th. in 2015 she debuted in an unsuccessful kid group. eun fell into obscurity immediately. she simply couldn’t achieve what she truly wanted because of the limits of a kid group (despite being a child herself). in 2020 she debuted as a soloist under mystic story, but didn’t gain the proper momentum to propel into stardom. she had one more comeback before heading back into the trainee dungeon. but finally, mystic story announced to their trainees that they would be airing a survival show, and eun was the first to get picked as a contestant.

nicknames  ﹪  scooby doo, joojoobi identity ﹪  femme, she / him, lesbian height  ﹪  5′7 birthplace  ﹪  gwangju, sk  ethnicity  ﹪  korean nationality  ﹪  korean position  ﹪  lead rapper, main dancer, vocalist, visual, maknae final rank ﹪ #3 fc  ﹪  park sohyun

additional info‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ıllı ‎ [ 🎧 ]    ‎♪ ҉     

dachi has an incredibly tough issue with solo stans. honestly, it might be the downfall of the group. seoyi solo stans are the worst for obvious reasons, but jeyeol solo stans can be even more infuriating. as the only guy he sticks out like a sore thumb. not to mention his extroverted personality and charisma which naturally draws in people. it feels like every day there’s a seoyi or jeyeol solo stan that protests for their removal of the group, like the bond that all dachi members share isn’t bordering on familial.

before dachi and lucky hour was an infamous scrapped project titled girl front. the lineup was entirely different, with nine female trainees of multiple nationalities. the goal was to represent as many kpop fans as possible through the idols. girl front quickly fell through when every trainee left the company over a 5 month period. the identities of the trainees are still unknown, but many theories have popped up around the industry.

insp. by @venusvity, @pureun & @almostyours

[heartilywrites]

hello!! can I request a kuvira x fem!r where reader worked for kuvira but was apart of team avatar like bolin and a prompt "I know that this is not what you want to hear..." thank you!!

،، 𝓐lways Forever ; Kuvira

resume: where you were Kuvira's right hand but... are you really?

content warning: Kuvira x metalbender and fem!reader ; s4 set ; baatar jr jumpscare (i don't like him, sorry-) ; no use of y/n

wc: 3.2k

a/n: HI HELLO 👋🏼 i feel that I'm missing stuff in here, but at the same time i think it's good how it is??? HOPE YOU ENJOY :D

“ Don't make me cry, though I still got love for you and haven't got over you yet.

Hands covered with white gloves moved around the map to corroborate your binnacle.

Northwest, near Zigan Village... wait, didn't the military already helped that village...? No, you would've registered it when—

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “HEY, MISS GEOGRAPHY!” Bolin screamed walking to you, giving you a tiny heart attack. “Watcha doin'?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Fucking spirits, Bolin...” you said out of breath, turning fully his way. “Do you need something?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "The boss wants us all reunited, we are close to the town." your friend let his arm rest on your shoulders. "Should we go reunite with Mako and Asami while we are there?"

A sound of consideration vibrated in your throat while your face made an expression of thinking. “I don't think they can, Bo, Mako is occupied being a detective and Asami has a whole company to run, remember?”

You felt how your friend got discouraged after that, a small sigh left his lips.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Maybe you're right..” he said in a small voice.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “But maybe we can reunite with them after the coronation. Who knows? Korra could be back in the city by now too.” you tried to encourage the lavabender back, poking his side. He smiled.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh! I wish! She hasn't answer any of my letters to her, you know? And I wrote to her with dedication.” Bolin ranted making you laugh.

After the avatar left Republic City to heal in the Southern Water Tribe, Bolin had found out Kuvira's plan to save the Earth Kingdom from chaos herself and he decided to walk in the team as he really wanted to have his and his father's nation back to peace. One week later, he came to you talking you into joining too, assuring it would be to have the nation united until the new king took possession of his place.

You did take a couple days to consider his proposal and ended up showing to the train with your stuff, being met with a big hug from your friend and a welcome speech from the leader.

The team was small when you joined, so you had the honor to see Kuvira recruit more people for the good cause... At least that was what she made everyone believe, even you.

You were able to take a good position in Kuvira's circle, you managed the villages reports for her and that made you be close to her. She remembered you from the team's visit to Zaofu where you would be kind to everyone, she taught you some new metalbending moves you didn't know and that was also part of the reason you joined: Kuvira herself.

Having to be almost every single hour of the day by her side gave you the opportunity to meet her in more depth than how it happened back in the metal clan's city and in a blink of an eye, there wasn't a way anyone could see one without the other. Everyone started to notice how important you began to be for the young leader. Unofficially, you were her right hand, but even with such a high rank there were stuff Kuvira kept from you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Everyone has a room assigned, we'll take the presidential suite.” Kuvira informed, pointing at you and then back at her. “We'll meet outside before the event.”

Baatar looked at you with narrow eyes before walking behind his new roommate Bolin. The metalbender and you made your way to the suite and began to settle; since the presidential suite had two connecting rooms she took the principal one and you the small one.

After leaving your stuff, you walked to her room and sat on the bed while she was getting ready for the coronation.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Are you sure to go on with your plan?” you asked after a small talk took place about the room being pretty, her sharp eyes looked at you from the mirror.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Of course, this new little king they want on the throne is nothing but a buffoon.” she answered, her eyes went back to her reflection. “And the Kingdom needs someone strong and respected to keep it together.”

You sighed and nodded with a little 'I guess' coming out of your mouth. The black haired walked to you, sitting by your side she took one of your hands.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Trust me, this is for the best. The new Empire will be stronger and far better than the previous Earth Kingdom.” her eyes searched for yours and when they met, her gaze softened. “You trust me, don't you?”

A sweet smile began to creep in your face, your head nodded once more. “I do, I trust you blindly.” your free hand reached for her cheek to leave caresses on it.

The door opened without any warning and the engineer walked, freezing after seeing you two close. He cleared his throat making the two sets of eyes turn his way. “All set, we need to go.” and he left.

You looked back at Kuvira with a funny smile, she shook her head. “Let's go, new leader.” A quick kiss on her cheek was left before distancing from the girl and walking to the exit.

At the coronation, everything went like you thought it would: People opposing, people showing support and Wu looking defeated at the border of a tantrum.

Bolin looked at you confused and you shrugged a little bit, like saying he needed to talk to her directly about it and that's what he planned to do after the ceremony.

When you came back to the room after having lunch with some of the soldiers to make time, you saw Suyin leaving the same, she looked at you and shook her head almost with disappointment before continuing her way.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Hey, what happened? I saw Suyin leave.” you asked directly coming in, Kuvira was standing with her arms crossed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We are leaving to Zaofu.” she limited to say, going to her room for her stuff.

You knew what was going to happen, she have been thinking about getting Zaofu into the new Empire for quite some time now, it was almost all she spoke about while talking about not letting the king rule.

Near the city, Bolin was called and told to be of company to both her and Bataar in a negotiation reunion with the matriarch of the city and her family, you were requested to stay on camp to keep working and that's what you did.

While looking through some paperwork that you knew got mixed up with Bataar's in his tent, you found blueprints for weapons you've never seen before, notes on the weapons about them being deadly and how each one could help in different areas. Your brow frowned and then, the dots connected.

Trying to look calmed you took your papers and walked back out like nothing. Bolin was also walking out of Kuvira's tent with a pale face, when he spotted you his feet almost ran your direction and took you by the shoulders.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Kuvira is not what we think she is!” he screamed in a whisper, your eyebrows raised, he knew too.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What? Why–” he pulled you to your tent so you could talk. “What are you talking about, Bolin?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “She just threatened me,” your eyes widened. “She wants to take the city by force, that's what we have been doing all this time! Taking cities by force and apparently making them work like slaves too!”

You blinked to all of the information. “Holy fuck, so that's why...” your sentence stopped, now you understood why there were documents with censored information being delivered to you instead of the official ones.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Yeah, holy fuck that's why!” he backed up, pulling down his face. “We need to do something, there's no way we'll leave it like this.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Let me... Let me talk to her, you need to go for Varrick, I know he can help us, he was captured because of the vines I heard.” you said, spaced out on your spot, you looked back at him. “Try to get out of here with him and talk to the team, I know they can help us, Korra will help us.”

The guy nodded before going out like a man on a mission, you stayed to clear your thoughts and try to come with a way to persuade her. After collecting a couple of documents that needed approval, you made your way to her tent, Baatar was there.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You can leave.” she said to him, the man left with a grimace, you rolled your eyes at him. “Hey, I was about to look for you, want to eat dinner?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, sure.” you smiled, standing still with your folder, Kuvira raised an eyebrow.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Is... something wrong? Something happened with the reports?” she asked meticulously, almost like fearing any discoveries you had made.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "No, sorry, I just... I feel tired." you walked to her and handed the folder. "I need your approvals here so I can send these."

The girl nodded and took the paperwork to start the process, you bit your bottom lip before breathing in deep.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "Listen, I talked to Bolin..." her hand stopped and she froze. "Kuvira, I know you want to have the whole Kingdom united, but taking the city by force is not a good idea."

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "Sometimes you need to do whatever it takes to make a greater good." her response left a bad mouth taste, she looked back up at you. "I know this is something you don't want to hear, but we need to make them join to our cause so we can move forward as a nation together. I'm doing this for us."

You stood in silence, that was definitely a different Kuvira talking and it scared you a little bit.

It took you that conversation to come up with a plan, you'd stay with her to try and stop everything from the inside and fortunately you weren't alone. Zhu Li had a similar idea with the canyon they were building and so you relied on her, both had meetings from time to time to discuss progress, but it was until the Beifongs were freed and she left with them for her safety that you were all alone. You trusted she would tell everything to the team.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "Okay, you can look now." your own hands moved from your eyes, confused you looked up to see a giant robot and now both eyes were wide open. "Do you like it? It's to take Republic City back."

Your blood froze in your veins at the view you were having, it was not only the giant robot, it was the fact that you could see a canyon on its right arm. "I thought... I thought we were going to do a big canyon."

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "That was the first plan, but Baatar came up with this new model and it would be easier to mobilize around the city." you nodded still hypnotized by the weapon.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "I think this is going to be such a great idea." you said what she wanted to hear, Kuvira smiled satisfied. "What will I do?"

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "You will be with me on the main control room." your mind was running miles trying to devise a plan to let the team know.

With the luck against you, you found yourself at the control room without being able to warn anyone about anything. Horrified at the sight of the canyon destroying everything in just seconds, you were grieving silently what had been your home for all those years alive.  When the president surrendered the city, you felt your soul fall to your feet, but her instructions to them gave you an idea.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "I'll go!" you almost screamed at her, she turned your way confused. "With Baatar, Korra is my friend, she trusts me, I know she won't try anything with me there. You'll have the city, the army and the avatar." You nervousness made your hands twitch a little bit, you hid them in your back.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "Okay," she said after a few seconds of silence, Kuvira walked up to you and cupped your face in her hands.‍ "Be careful, I'll wait for you so we can rule together." She left a kiss close to the corner of your lips.

A soft smile was your response while your eyes scanned her face one last time, trying to burn the image of her in your brain and after that, you left to meet the engineer.

The first half of the journey was quiet, both of you were walking towards his office, but with healthy distance between the two.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "She likes you, you know?" he spoke out of the blue, catching your attention, you looked up from the floor and back at him for a second.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "What...?"

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "Kuvira, she likes you." he continued, you stopped a second in your steps, confused.‍ "We were trying something at the beginning of all of this, but after Bolin got you on the team she had been distant to me and this morning she said we needed to talk after this is over, I know she likes you, I've seen the way she looks at you."

You blinked in awe to what was said, that explained why he always looked at you with some type of resentment, you laughed a little bit to the thought of him hating you for ruinning his 'chance' with the leader.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "The destiny is such a funny thing." you murmured, it was almost relieving to know that maybe you did had your chance with the metalbender, you wished the situation was different so you could maybe be with her dispite all, but now you had one mission: stop her.

Once at the door, you unlocked it and walked in, as soon as Baatar walked you heard him grumble. In an automatic way, you adopted a defensive position, however when the avatar looked at you, a smile as big appeared on your face.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "Korra!" you exclaimed walking towards her to embrace a hug, she giggled.‍ "I'm so glad to see you here."

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "I'm glad to see you too," she said smiling, a couple seconds later, she distanced herself.‍ "Zhu Li told us everything, we're taking Baatar, are you coming with us?"

Without a second thought you nodded and followed the girl out of the airship.

Once at Asami's factory you greeted everyone with joy, feeling like a weight was lifted up your shoulders and when you saw Bolin your eyes watered a little bit.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "I thought you did die!" you said while hugging him with a little strength, he was giggling with pauses.‍ "I didn't have any way to communicate and then Zhu Li left and I was all alone."

The older woman patted your back with a comprehensive smile, while everything went down you stood at the back with your friend, waiting for a conclusion. When the engineer talked to her, your stomach felt fumbling and it didn't get better listening to her answer him. She asked for you and the man told her that you were with him, they had taken you too.

Seeing how the leader shoot at the factory without considering if any of you two would make it out alive somehow made you feel sad, but there wasn't time for any of that as everyone got to action trying to stop her. Lin had given metal string for you to move around and a quick tutorial on how to use it, it took you a couple of falls for you to have the transportation managed.

The fight was intense, there were times were you thought you would not make it alive in one piece. All your muscles were aching in pain at the overwork with your bending, sweat was dripping off your face, but when everyone got into the suit you took the time to rest a little bit with Asami by your side when you went to look for her after she was ejected from the hummingbird suit. Your arms were around her, giving her comfort in her now grieving time.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "I hope they can defeat her." she said, resting her head in your shoulder. You looked to the robot's way and saw fire reflecting, a tiny smile appear.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "I'm sure they will." you said back.‍ "I just wish things were different... I don't recognize Kuvira anymore."

Asami was attentive to you, she gave you a comprehensive gaze.‍ "Things happen for a reason."

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "I know that, but-" your talk was interrupted by an explosion, Asami and you covered your head with your hands and looked up afterwards.

The giant robot was halved by the vines power, with no time to waste, you ran to the scene. Before you both arrived, another explosion took place, Asami was quick to pull you to a train entrance for cover. When that one settle, your eyes shined with the new spirit portal in the heart of the city.

A small call for Kuvira left your mouth unconsciously, so you joined the rest of the group to look for the avatar while also you looked for the leader. Your mind was going a thousand per second until you saw the southerner walk out of the portal with the metalbender by her side, you sighed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "Wait," you called to the Beifongs before they could take her farther.‍ "Can I... talk to her? It will be quick."

Lin and Suyin took just a step back, always vigilant to the leader.‍ "I'm sorry," she started, not allowing you to say anything.‍ "For everything, I'm so sorry for making you go through all of this."

One of your hands look to get one of hers, a melancholic smile was drawn in your face. "You'll do better from now on, I can feel it."

Kuvira let a couple of tears fall from her eyes, you took a step closer to her and your lips met hers in a delicate kiss. The leader was shocked, but tried to reciprocate as fast as she could. You could hear a couple of gasps at your back, but that wasn't your main focus at the moment.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "I'll wait for you." you told her, trying to sound calm. Kuvira's eyes shined with concern.‍ "Just know, I have always loved you... Always."

She smile a little bit and murmur a little 'I love you too' before she was taken away. Turning around to your friends, they all had a shocked face.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ "So! Korra saved the city!" you tried to sound as happy as possible for your friend, Bolin gave you back up and cheered for the avatar.

The whole team did a group hug as a celebration, knowing you could also need a hug from them, things will get better with time.

[kimjuncottton]

sf9official: #jaeyoon

Letter 1 translation:

To; Fantasy\

Baek!! Gol!! (salute) Trainee No: 177 Lee Jaeyoon is writing this letter to Fantasy!!!

Fantasy~~ How are you?? Two weeks have passed by since

¡ enlisted!! The internet letters sent by our fantasy were so touching and many people at the training center were surprised and said it was amazing.

I was very touched that the assistant who was in charge also tried to select all of them as much as possible.

Here I am eating well and going to bed at 10pm well! As i read through the letters my heart cried a bit! Thank you.

The first day at the training centre went well better than i thought. But as everyday keeps coming up with things I need to adapt i am having a hectic time!

And the Good jaeng n Singles pictures; did you receive them well? As i read the Internet letters i felt relief that it was revealed well to Fantasy!

Now it's time for my personal firearms training!It's time to learn how to shoot with guns, so I'll be careful and come back. It seems that the weather has warmed up a lot, but I hope fantasy enjoys watching the flowers bloom and enjoy spring!!! aaa!!! and I'm doing well with my comrades, so don't worry!!! I'm getting along well with the squad leader and platoon leader as well, so don't worry about that too.!!! I hope you have a good day today, don't skip meals, and get a good night's sleep!

I will send another letter when I am able to write it again.

Thank you Fantasy© Baek!! Gol!! (salute)

-1096th baekgol warrior Lee Jaeyoon-

Letter 2 translation:

To. Fantasy?

Hello Fantasy ~!!! Have you been doing well~? As there are so many things to do, such as daily routine, training, and physical fitness assessments i am sending a letter like this all at once! It's Thursday, April 6th. There was a rifle drill and i passed it^^!! unfortunately as i couldn't get everything right i barely managed to pass! Tr tr Tr

There are 3 weeks left, and I think I will be able to exchange news with Fantasy more comfortably than now because I can receive a cell phone after completing the course. There are so many things I want to say and tell you, but I'm all over the place! As fantasy sent in a lot alot of Internet letters it became a pleasure i can read when i get time! I am very very grateful. Thank you. I have heard it from the hyungs beforehand, but it really gives me great strength and comfort! Thank you!!! (in eng) and My hair got a lot shorter than when i enlisted. I think it's fortunate that it's a place that fantasy can't see.. 777

The food at the training camp is really good, so I always eat milk, soda, and various side dishes almost every day.

And I got so used to waking up at 6:30 a.m.!

Oh! And I'm currently the platoon leader trainee in the 3rd company, 6th platoon!!!!! I'm getting along well with my trainees, so don't worry.

And my skin got tanned more than I thought. It's really hot during the day because of the big temperature difference between day and night Tr but don't worry because I'm taking good care of my skin with sunscreen and pricey products! And right now, I'm talking to my comrades about what I want to eat the most! There are various menus, and memories of eating in society come to mind.

Lastly, I miss you a lot of fantasy. I missed you a lot alot!

But l'll do my best and say goodbye with a smile. Fantasy, you did a great job today! good night\ (in eng)

- real rice balls... jaeyoon-

Translation credit: @ lilbaekyooni on twitter

[zolotravel]

American Express's Customer Service Reputation

Hey there, friend! Let's talk about American Express (Amex) for a sec. You know, that card that makes you feel like a VIP? Well, it's not just the fancy rewards or the sleek metal that keeps people coming back. It’s the service. Yep, you heard me right. Amex has built a reputation for treating its customers like gold.

A Service Legacy

Amex didn't just wake up one day and decide to be amazing. It's been in their DNA since the beginning. They started as an express mail service, delivering important documents ASAP. Can you imagine the pressure to get those things delivered on time? That's where the focus on service was born.

Fast forward to today, and that same dedication to service is still alive and kicking. They've built a culture where every employee is like a superhero, ready to swoop in and save the day when you need help. It's like having a personal assistant, but for your finances.

The Personal Touch

One thing that sets Amex apart is their ability to make you feel like you're the only customer they have. I remember one time I had a weird charge on my card. I called customer service, expecting to be on hold for an hour. Nope. I got connected to a real person in seconds. They listened to my story, sympathized, and resolved the issue quickly. It was like talking to a friend who just happened to work at a credit card company.

Amex understands that people don't just want their problems solved; they want to feel heard and valued. It's about building relationships, not just transactions. That's why they invest heavily in training their employees to be empathetic and knowledgeable.

Measuring Up

Now, don't get me wrong, even superheroes can have off days. That's why Amex is always looking for ways to improve. They use surveys, social media, and other feedback channels to get a pulse on how customers feel. It's like a constant check-in to make sure they're still hitting it out of the park.

And they use technology to their advantage too. Think about those chatbots you see on websites. Amex has them, but they're not your typical, robotic helpers. They're designed to assist you quickly and efficiently, and if they can't solve your problem, they'll connect you to a human in no time.

The Future of Service

The world is changing fast, and so is customer service. People expect more than just friendly reps; they want convenience and personalization. Amex is up to the challenge. They're investing in new technologies and exploring innovative ways to meet customer needs.

But at the heart of it all, Amex knows that it's the people who make the difference. As long as they stay committed to their customers, they'll continue to be a leader in the industry.

So, the next time you interact with Amex, take a moment to appreciate the service you're receiving. It's a rare find in today's world.

Would you like to dive deeper into a specific aspect of Amex's customer service, like their use of technology or their handling of customer complaints?

Amex: Your Personal Squad

Let's talk about those times when things go sideways. You know, those moments when your card gets declined, or maybe you spot a weird charge. It's like a mini-panic attack, right? Well, that's where Amex's customer service really shines.

The Human Touch in a Digital World

In a world filled with automated phone systems and chatbots, Amex has managed to keep the human touch alive. It's like they've assembled a squad of customer service superheroes, ready to swoop in and save the day. I mean, who else would stay on the phone with you for an hour, just to figure out why your luggage is missing?

But it's not just about solving problems. It's about making you feel like you're part of the Amex family. They go the extra mile, often exceeding expectations. Remember that time I locked my keys in my car at the airport? I called Amex in a panic, and they not only helped me find a locksmith, but they also reimbursed me for the cost. Now, that's what I call service!

Listening and Learning

Amex knows that the customer is always right (well, most of the time). They're constantly listening to feedback and using it to improve their service. Whether it's through surveys, social media, or good old-fashioned phone calls, they're always looking for ways to make things better.

And they're not afraid to use technology to their advantage. Amex has invested heavily in digital tools that make it easier for customers to get help. From online chat to mobile apps, you can get assistance whenever and wherever you need it. But they've found a sweet spot where technology enhances the human touch, not replaces it.

Building Trust

Great customer service is about more than just solving problems. It's about building trust. When you know you can count on Amex to have your back, it makes you feel more confident and secure. And that's priceless.

So, the next time you have to deal with a customer service issue, remember that Amex might just redefine your expectations. They've turned customer service into an art form.

[jcmarchi]

CISO Jim Rutt on the transition from marketing to cyber leader - CyberTalk

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/ciso-jim-rutt-on-the-transition-from-marketing-to-cyber-leader-cybertalk/

CISO Jim Rutt on the transition from marketing to cyber leader - CyberTalk

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY:

Jim Rutt is the CISO/CIO of The Dana Foundation, a private philanthropy group that explores the connections between neuroscience, society’s challenges, and society’s opportunities.

In this edited interview excerpt from the CISO’s Secrets podcast, CISO Jim Rutt shares secrets about how he got his start in cyber security. A distinguished professional with a storied 27-year career, he has acquired 15 cyber security certifications, been quoted in the Wall Street Journal, is the former president and chairman of the Technology Affinity Group (TAG) and is on the board of the New York Chapter of the Cloud Security Alliance.

Jim’s narrative is particularly relevant to individuals with non-traditional career paths, those seeking to understand where the field of cyber security is headed, and to those who wish to inspire the next generation of cyber security leaders.

Tell us a little bit about the course of your career and how you’ve found yourself where you are?

The ironic thing is…I actually started in marketing in the early 1990’s, when I got out of college. So, how do you transition from marketing to technology? It’s a very interesting jump!

I think a lot of it was very fortuitous, when you think about what happened in the mid-‘90s. Think about the rise of the internet, think about all of the then-emerging technologies. I saw that and said ‘you know what, this is a direction that I really think is going to be exciting.’

And boy, has it ever been so. I could never have anticipated the opportunities that have come my way in the last 25-26 years. It’s been very exciting.

That’s really interesting. So what kind of marketing did you start out in? Corporate marketing, product marketing, field marketing – Was there a particular area of marketing that you were focused on?

So, I worked for an import/export company in New Jersey. I was the guy who did all of the internal marketing and the trade shows.

Every time that I attend an RSA or a Black Hat, I remember when I was working the trade show booths, and things were a little bit different then.

Right. Well, so it was about ’98 when I happened to get into security, although it was ’83 when I got into computing. But I can certainly appreciate the massive transformation that took place when we went from everybody being in their own fishbowl – you were using Token Ring and I was using IPX.

And then, all of a sudden, those fishbowls went away and we were in the ocean, and that was the internet…it was really the birth of the ‘bubble’ and the firewall and VPN market went crazy…right?

Oh yes. To even consider some of the downstream impacts of network security, when we were trying to grapple with network standards…I mean, you elucidated it perfectly. It’s amazing to look back at all of the different architectures that we had to handle in the late ‘90s and to see it converge – very satisfying.

So, I have to ask, Jim. How exactly did you manage to navigate the transition from marketing to cyber security? How did you obtain the foundation, the knowledge, the technical aptitude that you need to have in order to be in your role?

It’s a great story. I was about 4-5 years into my marketing career, and I realized that it wasn’t really going to be a long-term career option for me.

I enjoyed some of the accomplishments, but it wasn’t my cup of tea, necessarily. I started looking around at the early internet, some of these other smaller networks, like AOL, Prodigy and CompuServe, and I thought to myself, ‘I wonder if I can make a career out of this.’

One day, I happened to open a Sunday paper, where one of the ads was for MCSE training, or Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer training. I said, ‘I wonder what that would be like.’ So, I contacted a small training facility in New Jersey, and inquired about prerequisites and costs…etc. At the time, for three months of training, it was about $5,000.

And $5,000 back in 1996 was a lot more than it is today, given all of the macroeconomic conditions that we have. So, I said, ‘okay, I’ll write the check’. And it was a big commitment for me – I had my regular job on weekdays, and then attended this training on the weekends.

After about six months of that, and after a series of about six certification exams, I got my MCSE. And I said ‘okay, let me see if I can go out and get a job.’

At the facility, where I’d taken my exams, I literally went up to the desk after taking my last exam and said ‘do you have any jobs that I might fit? You know, I don’t have any experience, but I have this certification.’

And I remember the receptionist saying, ‘Hold on a second.’ She went to the back, brought a recruiter out, and the recruiter said ‘We’ll find something for you, don’t worry.’

And that’s how I got started. I got my first job as a help desk analyst…

That’s fascinating!

About four years later, I got into other engineering jobs. Then, in 2001, heading towards the focus in cyber, I got my first management job, which was at Emblem Health, here in New York.

Around the same time, the HIPAA regulations started to come into effect. There was a lot of discussion around regulation, and a lot of discussion around cyber in general, and we really didn’t have a security department there. We didn’t have a CISO as we know it today.

We just happened to have someone who was focused on physical security, and they were kind of thrown into the cyber security role. At that point, I had a few years of technical experience (obviously), and so he asked me, ‘what do you know about cyber security?’

While he was learning how to take care of cyber security from the regulatory/government side, I helped him with the technical side. So, the cyber portion of my career really took off about 22 years ago at this point…

In every role since then, I’ve had some measure of cyber responsibilities. I became a little more focused on it around 10-11 years ago, at Dana. I started taking some certifications training, and began getting involved in the greater ecosystem. And the timing couldn’t have been more fortuitous…

Can you talk a little bit about the journey from CIO to CISO?

Sure. To do that, I’d probably have to…

Did you find Jim’s story interesting? Listen to the whole conversation – Right here.

[malereader-inserts]

Listen Here, Boy Wonder

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner & Male!Reader Summary: Just a quiet boy not knowing how to feel Word Count: 1,346 Request:  Hello, I was wondering if you could do a fic with Hotch where he doesnt want another agent on his team (almost like with Emily) but then the new kid stays later than Hotch and arrives earlier somehow even though Hotch tends to sleep on his couch in the office like every second day.

Warnings: description of injuries.

 A/n: TBH this isn’t the best I could do

It’s not like Hotch was opposed to having another team member on the team, it was just the fact that it could possibly be another Spencer. The new member, already welcomed by the rest of the team, was only aged twenty-two. The agency had recommended him and his grades in the final year were the best, being in the top percentage.

It’s not that he wasn’t going to welcome him, he’s the team leader, he has to be welcoming. But, any good profiler could see that Hotch was not pleased.

“Play nice, Aaron,” Rossi says, standing at the doorway, “He’s a good kid, you know, and if you actually took time to see - he’s actually an angel.”

So, despite his annoyance, he could see how much the team had adored their new addition. One thing he had noticed before anyone else was that you were constantly at work. He nods his good morning, at half-seven, to see you writing up your report. Hotch also nods his good nights, seeing you sign your name off - usually around half eleven. 

But, you’re at work most of the day, and you don’t seem like you’re tired. You don’t carry yourself a hot flask of coffee, unlike someone who must have caffeine in their system (cough spencer cough). You were often seen with a big bottle of water, Hotch had to pat you on the back for that - at least you kept yourself hydrated.

Then again, he doesn’t know how hard the FBI training has been lately and perhaps you’ve just kept up with their rules and regulations. Hotch got more curious with the new quiet boy who seems to light up when Morgan ruffles your hair, or how the ladies laugh when you make an off-hand comment that was either snidey or snarky. 

Hotch had to admit that you were truly showing what you were capable of, when Spencer reveals a crucial part in the investigation, as one other person would praise Spencer as usual.

“Oh, I didn’t find it, (Y/n) did.” 

They all look at you, your cheeks flare with embarrassment, “It was kinda obvious, I shouldn’t take credit.”

“No,” Hotch says, raising an eyebrow at you, “You did good, (L/n). Rossi, Morgan with me.”

As Hotch leaves the room with Morgan, Rossi turns to you with a twinkle in his eyes, “That means he likes you, kid.”

Hotch didn’t know how to bring you out of the shell, by now, you were in the team for a good six months. You were still that quiet boy when he first started to work there, still making amazing an observation to the investigation, still seen with only water and never caffeine - though now you’ve started to appear every now and then with an energy drink.

Hotch and everyone else tried to get you out of work situations, asking if you want to go to the bar after work, it’s a Friday night and you have the weekend to chill. Rossi would try to host cooking nights, suggested by Hotch.

“Why should I do that?”

“Because, Dave, we still need to get (Y/n)’s out of his shell.”

“You care about the kid!”

“I-” Rossi smirks as Hotch rolls his eyes, “He’s part of the team and he’s the youngest, of course, I care.”

Though, nothing of Hotch’s attempt seems to break through to you. Until now. Hotch doesn’t know how he ended up here, but at least he wasn’t alone, he just wished he had better company. It’s not that he didn’t like you, in fact, he came to terms to actually warm up to you - even making sure you’re okay. You’re an adult, he’s aware of that, but like all other members of the team - he was concerned.

And whilst you were good company, he wishes you didn’t have to deal with the trauma you’ll get from getting kidnapped during an individual. 

“I’m okay,” You say, “I’m not hurt at all, luckily.”

Hotch nodded, “That’s good.”

It’s been days in a small little cell, you and Hotch both know that your team is very much trying to get them back. After all, you were the youngest team member and you have so much life to get through - they were protective of you because you were just a quiet boy. And they couldn’t just strand their great team leader. 

Yet, days were starting to merge and you were getting restless, at least it gave you and Hotch some forced bonding time. After a while, you just have to talk or you’ll go insane, so you rattled your team leader’s ear off. Not that he minded, in fact, it was relaxing that you actually didn’t mind talking, but you chose to be quiet.

“Is he coming back?”

You and him sat up straight, your kidnapper, or the unsub was what you exactly theorised. You were a smart boy, so the days you were here in a small dirty cell you watched your unsub. He was still new to being a serial murderer, he was still unsure about what to do. 

So when he pointed his knife at Hotch, you kicked in your plan. You body slammed the unsub shouting at Hotch to get out, Hotch was hesitant before bolting it out, you called out after him that you’ll make your way out too.

“We’ll find him,” Emily reassures Hotch, who was holding an ice pack to his temple, “He might be quiet, but we know he’s a tough kid.”

Hotch worked relentlessly, even when the team told him that he should take a break, he didn’t want to stop until you were found alive. The team tried to do their best in finding you, they were waking up earlier and going to sleep later - collating all they could. 

It had been a week since Hotch managed to escape and he owes you his life for saving him. He was the only one awake, though when he looks at the clock, he can see that the rest of the team will arrive in half an hour. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Hotch snaps his head up before twirling on his heel, to see you with a black eye, your temple seemed to patched with stitching and bandaged up. You were holding an energy drink, your non-dominate arm was in a sling. You had bruises on your jaw and strangulation marks.

“What’s all this?” You asked, Hotch noticed you had a limp as you look at the information on the board and scattered on the table, “Were you trying to find me?”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well, I don’t know,” You shrugged your shoulder, “I guess I didn’t think I mattered that much.”

“Of course you matter,” Hotch says and for once you were taken aback to hear such desperation in his voice, “you’re part of the team, you’re the youngest of us. Family protects family.”

“We’re...family?” You tilted your head.

You see, you saw Hotch as a strict and level headed man - he sticks to the rules and regulations. He wasn’t the most approachable person and yet to see him react so differently. You look up to see soft caring eyes, as he motions for you to sit down at least - you are injured and he has taken that to consideration.

“Of course, the moment you joined the team, you were family so no matter how quiet you were and you didn’t want to open up. The team and I never saw you any different than the boy wonder. You were family the moment you introduced yourself.”

“I don’t get it,” You were confused, genuinely, “Why?”

“Because we love you and you have our backs, we’re going to have your back.”

“You will?”

“Of course.”

You had knitted your eyebrows together as you were pondering how to click the pieces together, Hotch knew that a little heart to heart between you two won’t sink in right away. But, he gave you a reassuring smile, telling you, if you ever forget - we’re always there to remind you.

[blackwoolncrown]

”This essay has been kicking around in my head for years now and I’ve never felt confident enough to write it. It’s a time in my life I’m ashamed of. It’s a time that I hurt people and, through inaction, allowed others to be hurt. It’s a time that I acted as a violent agent of capitalism and white supremacy. Under the guise of public safety, I personally ruined people’s lives but in so doing, made the public no safer… so did the family members and close friends of mine who also bore the badge alongside me.

But enough is enough.

The reforms aren’t working. Incrementalism isn’t happening. Unarmed Black, indigenous, and people of color are being killed by cops in the streets and the police are savagely attacking the people protesting these murders.

American policing is a thick blue tumor strangling the life from our communities and if you don’t believe it when the poor and the marginalized say it, if you don’t believe it when you see cops across the country shooting journalists with less-lethal bullets and caustic chemicals, maybe you’ll believe it when you hear it straight from the pig’s mouth.”

>>Copied here in case anyone gets paywalled when they click the above. The full article is...a lot.<<

WHY AM I WRITING THIS

As someone who went through the training, hiring, and socialization of a career in law enforcement, I wanted to give a first-hand account of why I believe police officers are the way they are. Not to excuse their behavior, but to explain it and to indict the structures that perpetuate it.

I believe that if everyone understood how we’re trained and brought up in the profession, it would inform the demands our communities should be making of a new way of community safety. If I tell you how we were made, I hope it will empower you to unmake us.

One of the other reasons I’ve struggled to write this essay is that I don’t want to center the conversation on myself and my big salty boo-hoo feelings about my bad choices. It’s a toxic white impulse to see atrocities and think “How can I make this about me?” So, I hope you’ll take me at my word that this account isn’t meant to highlight me, but rather the hundred thousand of me in every city in the country. It’s about the structure that made me (that I chose to pollute myself with) and it’s my meager contribution to the cause of radical justice.

YES, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS

I was a police officer in a major metropolitan area in California with a predominantly poor, non-white population (with a large proportion of first-generation immigrants). One night during briefing, our watch commander told us that the city council had requested a new zero tolerance policy. Against murderers, drug dealers, or child predators?

No, against homeless people collecting cans from recycling bins.

See, the city had some kickback deal with the waste management company where waste management got paid by the government for our expected tonnage of recycling. When homeless people “stole” that recycling from the waste management company, they were putting that cheaper contract in peril. So, we were to arrest as many recyclers as we could find.

Even for me, this was a stupid policy and I promptly blew Sarge off. But a few hours later, Sarge called me over to assist him. He was detaining a 70 year old immigrant who spoke no English, who he’d seen picking a coke can out of a trash bin. He ordered me to arrest her for stealing trash. I said, “Sarge, c’mon, she’s an old lady.” He said, “I don’t give a shit. Hook her up, that’s an order.” And… I did. She cried the entire way to the station and all through the booking process. I couldn’t even comfort her because I didn’t speak Spanish. I felt disgusting but I was ordered to make this arrest and I wasn’t willing to lose my job for her.

If you’re tempted to feel sympathy for me, don’t. I used to happily hassle the homeless under other circumstances. I researched obscure penal codes so I could arrest people in homeless encampments for lesser known crimes like “remaining too close to railroad property” (369i of the California Penal Code). I used to call it “planting warrant seeds” since I knew they wouldn’t make their court dates and we could arrest them again and again for warrant violations.

We used to have informal contests for who could cite or arrest someone for the weirdest law. DUI on a bicycle, non-regulation number of brooms on your tow truck (27700(a)(1) of the California Vehicle Code)… shit like that. For me, police work was a logic puzzle for arresting people, regardless of their actual threat to the community. As ashamed as I am to admit it, it needs to be said: stripping people of their freedom felt like a game to me for many years.

I know what you’re going to ask: did I ever plant drugs? Did I ever plant a gun on someone? Did I ever make a false arrest or file a false report? Believe it or not, the answer is no. Cheating was no fun, I liked to get my stats the “legitimate” way. But I knew officers who kept a little baggie of whatever or maybe a pocket knife that was a little too big in their war bags (yeah, we called our dufflebags “war bags”…). Did I ever tell anybody about it? No I did not. Did I ever confess my suspicions when cocaine suddenly showed up in a gang member’s jacket? No I did not.

In fact, let me tell you about an extremely formative experience: in my police academy class, we had a clique of around six trainees who routinely bullied and harassed other students: intentionally scuffing another trainee’s shoes to get them in trouble during inspection, sexually harassing female trainees, cracking racist jokes, and so on. Every quarter, we were to write anonymous evaluations of our squadmates. I wrote scathing accounts of their behavior, thinking I was helping keep bad apples out of law enforcement and believing I would be protected. Instead, the academy staff read my complaints to them out loud and outed me to them and never punished them, causing me to get harassed for the rest of my academy class. That’s how I learned that even police leadership hates rats. That’s why no one is “changing things from the inside.” They can’t, the structure won’t allow it.

And that’s the point of what I’m telling you. Whether you were my sergeant, legally harassing an old woman, me, legally harassing our residents, my fellow trainees bullying the rest of us, or “the bad apples” illegally harassing “shitbags”, we were all in it together. I knew cops that pulled women over to flirt with them. I knew cops who would pepper spray sleeping bags so that homeless people would have to throw them away. I knew cops that intentionally provoked anger in suspects so they could claim they were assaulted. I was particularly good at winding people up verbally until they lashed out so I could fight them. Nobody spoke out. Nobody stood up. Nobody betrayed the code.

None of us protected the people (you) from bad cops.

This is why “All cops are bastards.” Even your uncle, even your cousin, even your mom, even your brother, even your best friend, even your spouse, even me. Because even if they wouldn’t Do The Thing themselves, they will almost never rat out another officer who Does The Thing, much less stop it from happening.

BASTARD 101

I could write an entire book of the awful things I’ve done, seen done, and heard others bragging about doing. But, to me, the bigger question is “How did it get this way?”. While I was a police officer in a city 30 miles from where I lived, many of my fellow officers were from the community and treated their neighbors just as badly as I did. While every cop’s individual biases come into play, it’s the profession itself that is toxic, and it starts from day 1 of training.

Every police academy is different but all of them share certain features: taught by old cops, run like a paramilitary bootcamp, strong emphasis on protecting yourself more than anyone else. The majority of my time in the academy was spent doing aggressive physical training and watching video after video after video of police officers being murdered on duty.

I want to highlight this: nearly everyone coming into law enforcement is bombarded with dash cam footage of police officers being ambushed and killed. Over and over and over. Colorless VHS mortality plays, cops screaming for help over their radios, their bodies going limp as a pair of tail lights speed away into a grainy black horizon. In my case, with commentary from an old racist cop who used to brag about assaulting Black Panthers.

To understand why all cops are bastards, you need to understand one of the things almost every training officer told me when it came to using force:

“I’d rather be judged by 12 than carried by 6.”

Meaning, “I’ll take my chances in court rather than risk getting hurt”. We’re able to think that way because police unions are extremely overpowered and because of the generous concept of Qualified Immunity, a legal theory which says a cop generally can’t be held personally liable for mistakes they make doing their job in an official capacity.

When you look at the actions of the officers who killed George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, David McAtee, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, or Freddie Gray, remember that they, like me, were trained to recite “I’d rather be judged by 12” as a mantra. Even if Mistakes Were Made™, the city (meaning the taxpayers, meaning you) pays the settlement, not the officer.

Once police training has - through repetition, indoctrination, and violent spectacle - promised officers that everyone in the world is out to kill them, the next lesson is that your partners are the only people protecting you. Occasionally, this is even true: I’ve had encounters turn on me rapidly to the point I legitimately thought I was going to die, only to have other officers come and turn the tables.

One of the most important thought leaders in law enforcement is Col. Dave Grossman, a “killologist” who wrote an essay called “Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs”. Cops are the sheepdogs, bad guys are the wolves, and the citizens are the sheep (!). Col. Grossman makes sure to mention that to a stupid sheep, sheepdogs look more like wolves than sheep, and that’s why they dislike you.

This “they hate you for protecting them and only I love you, only I can protect you” tactic is familiar to students of abuse. It’s what abusers do to coerce their victims into isolation, pulling them away from friends and family and ensnaring them in the abuser’s toxic web. Law enforcement does this too, pitting the officer against civilians. “They don’t understand what you do, they don’t respect your sacrifice, they just want to get away with crimes. You’re only safe with us.”

I think the Wolves vs. Sheepdogs dynamic is one of the most important elements as to why officers behave the way they do. Every single second of my training, I was told that criminals were not a legitimate part of their community, that they were individual bad actors, and that their bad actions were solely the result of their inherent criminality. Any concept of systemic trauma, generational poverty, or white supremacist oppression was either never mentioned or simply dismissed. After all, most people don’t steal, so anyone who does isn’t “most people,” right? To us, anyone committing a crime deserved anything that happened to them because they broke the “social contract.” And yet, it was never even a question as to whether the power structure above them was honoring any sort of contract back.

Understand: Police officers are part of the state monopoly on violence and all police training reinforces this monopoly as a cornerstone of police work, a source of honor and pride. Many cops fantasize about getting to kill someone in the line of duty, egged on by others that have. One of my training officers told me about the time he shot and killed a mentally ill homeless man wielding a big stick. He bragged that he “slept like a baby” that night. Official training teaches you how to be violent effectively and when you’re legally allowed to deploy that violence, but “unofficial training” teaches you to desire violence, to expand the breadth of your violence without getting caught, and to erode your own compassion for desperate people so you can justify punitive violence against them.

HOW TO BE A BASTARD

I have participated in some of these activities personally, others are ones I either witnessed personally or heard officers brag about openly. Very, very occasionally, I knew an officer who was disciplined or fired for one of these things.

Police officers will lie about the law, about what’s illegal, or about what they can legally do to you in order to manipulate you into doing what they want.

Police officers will lie about feeling afraid for their life to justify a use of force after the fact.

Police officers will lie and tell you they’ll file a police report just to get you off their back.

Police officers will lie that your cooperation will “look good for you” in court, or that they will “put in a good word for you with the DA.” The police will never help you look good in court.

Police officers will lie about what they see and hear to access private property to conduct unlawful searches.

Police officers will lie and say your friend already ratted you out, so you might as well rat them back out. This is almost never true.

Police officers will lie and say you’re not in trouble in order to get you to exit a location or otherwise make an arrest more convenient for them.

Police officers will lie and say that they won’t arrest you if you’ll just “be honest with them” so they know what really happened.

Police officers will lie about their ability to seize the property of friends and family members to coerce a confession.

Police officers will write obviously bullshit tickets so that they get time-and-a-half overtime fighting them in court.

Police officers will search places and containers you didn’t consent to and later claim they were open or “smelled like marijuana”.

Police officers will threaten you with a more serious crime they can’t prove in order to convince you to confess to the lesser crime they really want you for.

Police officers will employ zero tolerance on races and ethnicities they dislike and show favor and lenience to members of their own group.

Police officers will use intentionally extra-painful maneuvers and holds during an arrest to provoke “resistance” so they can further assault the suspect.

Some police officers will plant drugs and weapons on you, sometimes to teach you a lesson, sometimes if they kill you somewhere away from public view.

Some police officers will assault you to intimidate you and threaten to arrest you if you tell anyone.

A non-trivial number of police officers will steal from your house or vehicle during a search.

A non-trivial number of police officers commit intimate partner violence and use their status to get away with it.

A non-trivial number of police officers use their position to entice, coerce, or force sexual favors from vulnerable people.

If you take nothing else away from this essay, I want you to tattoo this onto your brain forever: if a police officer is telling you something, it is probably a lie designed to gain your compliance.

Do not talk to cops and never, ever believe them. Do not “try to be helpful” with cops. Do not assume they are trying to catch someone else instead of you. Do not assume what they are doing is “important” or even legal. Under no circumstances assume any police officer is acting in good faith.

Also, and this is important, do not talk to cops.

I just remembered something, do not talk to cops.

Checking my notes real quick, something jumped out at me:

Do

not

fucking

talk

to

cops.

Ever.

Say, “I don’t answer questions,” and ask if you’re free to leave; if so, leave. If not, tell them you want your lawyer and that, per the Supreme Court, they must terminate questioning. If they don’t, file a complaint and collect some badges for your mantle.

DO THE BASTARDS EVER HELP?

Reading the above, you may be tempted to ask whether cops ever do anything good. And the answer is, sure, sometimes. In fact, most officers I worked with thought they were usually helping the helpless and protecting the safety of innocent people.

During my tenure in law enforcement, I protected women from domestic abusers, arrested cold-blooded murderers and child molesters, and comforted families who lost children to car accidents and other tragedies. I helped connect struggling people in my community with local resources for food, shelter, and counseling. I deescalated situations that could have turned violent and talked a lot of people down from making the biggest mistake of their lives. I worked with plenty of officers who were individually kind, bought food for homeless residents, or otherwise showed care for their community.

The question is this: did I need a gun and sweeping police powers to help the average person on the average night? The answer is no. When I was doing my best work as a cop, I was doing mediocre work as a therapist or a social worker. My good deeds were listening to people failed by the system and trying to unite them with any crumbs of resources the structure was currently denying them.

It’s also important to note that well over 90% of the calls for service I handled were reactive, showing up well after a crime had taken place. We would arrive, take a statement, collect evidence (if any), file the report, and onto the next caper. Most “active” crimes we stopped were someone harmless possessing or selling a small amount of drugs. Very, very rarely would we stop something dangerous in progress or stop something from happening entirely. The closest we could usually get was seeing someone running away from the scene of a crime, but the damage was still done.

And consider this: my job as a police officer required me to be a marriage counselor, a mental health crisis professional, a conflict negotiator, a social worker, a child advocate, a traffic safety expert, a sexual assault specialist, and, every once in awhile, a public safety officer authorized to use force, all after only a 1000 hours of training at a police academy. Does the person we send to catch a robber also need to be the person we send to interview a rape victim or document a fender bender? Should one profession be expected to do all that important community care (with very little training) all at the same time?

To put this another way: I made double the salary most social workers made to do a fraction of what they could do to mitigate the causes of crimes and desperation. I can count very few times my monopoly on state violence actually made our citizens safer, and even then, it’s hard to say better-funded social safety nets and dozens of other community care specialists wouldn’t have prevented a problem before it started.

Armed, indoctrinated (and dare I say, traumatized) cops do not make you safer; community mutual aid networks who can unite other people with the resources they need to stay fed, clothed, and housed make you safer. I really want to hammer this home: every cop in your neighborhood is damaged by their training, emboldened by their immunity, and they have a gun and the ability to take your life with near-impunity. This does not make you safer, even if you’re white.

HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE A BASTARD?

So what do we do about it? Even though I’m an expert on bastardism, I am not a public policy expert nor an expert in organizing a post-police society. So, before I give some suggestions, let me tell you what probably won’t solve the problem of bastard cops:

Increased “bias” training. A quarterly or even monthly training session is not capable of covering over years of trauma-based camaraderie in police forces. I can tell you from experience, we don’t take it seriously, the proctors let us cheat on whatever “tests” there are, and we all made fun of it later over coffee.

Tougher laws. I hope you understand by now, cops do not follow the law and will not hold each other accountable to the law. Tougher laws are all the more reason to circle the wagons and protect your brothers and sisters.

More community policing programs. Yes, there is a marginal effect when a few cops get to know members of the community, but look at the protests of 2020: many of the cops pepper-spraying journalists were probably the nice school cop a month ago.

Police officers do not protect and serve people, they protect and serve the status quo, “polite society”, and private property. Using the incremental mechanisms of the status quo will never reform the police because the status quo relies on police violence to exist. Capitalism requires a permanent underclass to exploit for cheap labor and it requires the cops to bring that underclass to heel.

Instead of wasting time with minor tweaks, I recommend exploring the following ideas:

No more qualified immunity. Police officers should be personally liable for all decisions they make in the line of duty.

No more civil asset forfeiture. Did you know that every year, citizens like you lose more cash and property to unaccountable civil asset forfeiture than to all burglaries combined? The police can steal your stuff without charging you with a crime and it makes some police departments very rich.

Break the power of police unions. Police unions make it nearly impossible to fire bad cops and incentivize protecting them to protect the power of the union. A police union is not a labor union; police officers are powerful state agents, not exploited workers.

Require malpractice insurance. Doctors must pay for insurance in case they botch a surgery, police officers should do the same for botching a police raid or other use of force. If human decency won’t motivate police to respect human life, perhaps hitting their wallet might.

Defund, demilitarize, and disarm cops. Thousands of police departments own assault rifles, armored personnel carriers, and stuff you’d see in a warzone. Police officers have grants and huge budgets to spend on guns, ammo, body armor, and combat training. 99% of calls for service require no armed response, yet when all you have is a gun, every problem feels like target practice. Cities are not safer when unaccountable bullies have a monopoly on state violence and the equipment to execute that monopoly.

One final idea: consider abolishing the police.

I know what you’re thinking, “What? We need the police! They protect us!” As someone who did it for nearly a decade, I need you to understand that by and large, police protection is marginal, incidental. It’s an illusion created by decades of copaganda designed to fool you into thinking these brave men and women are holding back the barbarians at the gates.

I alluded to this above: the vast majority of calls for service I handled were theft reports, burglary reports, domestic arguments that hadn’t escalated into violence, loud parties, (houseless) people loitering, traffic collisions, very minor drug possession, and arguments between neighbors. Mostly the mundane ups and downs of life in the community, with little inherent danger. And, like I mentioned, the vast majority of crimes I responded to (even violent ones) had already happened; my unaccountable license to kill was irrelevant.

What I mainly provided was an “objective” third party with the authority to document property damage, ask people to chill out or disperse, or counsel people not to beat each other up. A trained counselor or conflict resolution specialist would be ten times more effective than someone with a gun strapped to his hip wondering if anyone would try to kill him when he showed up. There are many models for community safety that can be explored if we get away from the idea that the only way to be safe is to have a man with a M4 rifle prowling your neighborhood ready at a moment’s notice to write down your name and birthday after you’ve been robbed and beaten.

You might be asking, “What about the armed robbers, the gangsters, the drug dealers, the serial killers?” And yes, in the city I worked, I regularly broke up gang parties, found gang members carrying guns, and handled homicides. I’ve seen some tragic things, from a reformed gangster shot in the head with his brains oozing out to a fifteen year old boy taking his last breath in his screaming mother’s arms thanks to a gang member’s bullet. I know the wages of violence.

This is where we have to have the courage to ask: why do people rob? Why do they join gangs? Why do they get addicted to drugs or sell them? It’s not because they are inherently evil. I submit to you that these are the results of living in a capitalist system that grinds people down and denies them housing, medical care, human dignity, and a say in their government. These are the results of white supremacy pushing people to the margins, excluding them, disrespecting them, and treating their bodies as disposable.

Equally important to remember: disabled and mentally ill people are frequently killed by police officers not trained to recognize and react to disabilities or mental health crises. Some of the people we picture as “violent offenders” are often people struggling with untreated mental illness, often due to economic hardships. Very frequently, the officers sent to “protect the community” escalate this crisis and ultimately wound or kill the person. Your community was not made safer by police violence; a sick member of your community was killed because it was cheaper than treating them. Are you extremely confident you’ll never get sick one day too?

Wrestle with this for a minute: if all of someone’s material needs were met and all the members of their community were fed, clothed, housed, and dignified, why would they need to join a gang? Why would they need to risk their lives selling drugs or breaking into buildings? If mental healthcare was free and was not stigmatized, how many lives would that save?

Would there still be a few bad actors in the world? Sure, probably. What’s my solution for them, you’re no doubt asking. I’ll tell you what: generational poverty, food insecurity, houselessness, and for-profit medical care are all problems that can be solved in our lifetimes by rejecting the dehumanizing meat grinder of capitalism and white supremacy. Once that’s done, we can work on the edge cases together, with clearer hearts not clouded by a corrupt system.

Police abolition is closely related to the idea of prison abolition and the entire concept of banishing the carceral state, meaning, creating a society focused on reconciliation and restorative justice instead of punishment, pain, and suffering — a system that sees people in crisis as humans, not monsters. People who want to abolish the police typically also want to abolish prisons, and the same questions get asked: “What about the bad guys? Where do we put them?” I bring this up because abolitionists don’t want to simply replace cops with armed social workers or prisons with casual detention centers full of puffy leather couches and Playstations. We imagine a world not divided into good guys and bad guys, but rather a world where people’s needs are met and those in crisis receive care, not dehumanization.

Here’s legendary activist and thinker Angela Y. Davis putting it better than I ever could:

“An abolitionist approach that seeks to answer questions such as these would require us to imagine a constellation of alternative strategies and institutions, with the ultimate aim of removing the prison from the social and ideological landscapes of our society. In other words, we would not be looking for prisonlike substitutes for the prison, such as house arrest safeguarded by electronic surveillance bracelets. Rather, positing decarceration as our overarching strategy, we would try to envision a continuum of alternatives to imprisonment-demilitarization of schools, revitalization of education at all levels, a health system that provides free physical and mental care to all, and a justice system based on reparation and reconciliation rather than retribution and vengeance.”

(Are Prisons Obsolete, pg. 107)

I’m not telling you I have the blueprint for a beautiful new world. What I’m telling you is that the system we have right now is broken beyond repair and that it’s time to consider new ways of doing community together. Those new ways need to be negotiated by members of those communities, particularly Black, indigenous, disabled, houseless, and citizens of color historically shoved into the margins of society. Instead of letting Fox News fill your head with nightmares about Hispanic gangs, ask the Hispanic community what they need to thrive. Instead of letting racist politicians scaremonger about pro-Black demonstrators, ask the Black community what they need to meet the needs of the most vulnerable. If you truly desire safety, ask not what your most vulnerable can do for the community, ask what the community can do for the most vulnerable.

A WORLD WITH FEWER BASTARDS IS POSSIBLE

If you take only one thing away from this essay, I hope it’s this: do not talk to cops. But if you only take two things away, I hope the second one is that it’s possible to imagine a different world where unarmed black people, indigenous people, poor people, disabled people, and people of color are not routinely gunned down by unaccountable police officers. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yes, this requires a leap of faith into community models that might feel unfamiliar, but I ask you:

When you see a man dying in the street begging for breath, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a mother or a daughter shot to death sleeping in their beds, don’t you want to leap away from that world?

When you see a twelve year old boy executed in a public park for the crime of playing with a toy, jesus fucking christ, can you really just stand there and think “This is normal”?

And to any cops who made it this far down, is this really the world you want to live in? Aren’t you tired of the trauma? Aren’t you tired of the soul sickness inherent to the badge? Aren’t you tired of looking the other way when your partners break the law? Are you really willing to kill the next George Floyd, the next Breonna Taylor, the next Tamir Rice? How confident are you that your next use of force will be something you’re proud of? I’m writing this for you too: it’s wrong what our training did to us, it’s wrong that they hardened our hearts to our communities, and it’s wrong to pretend this is normal.

Look, I wouldn’t have been able to hear any of this for much of my life. You reading this now may not be able to hear this yet either. But do me this one favor: just think about it. Just turn it over in your mind for a couple minutes. “Yes, And” me for a minute. Look around you and think about the kind of world you want to live in. Is it one where an all-powerful stranger with a gun keeps you and your neighbors in line with the fear of death, or can you picture a world where, as a community, we embrace our most vulnerable, meet their needs, heal their wounds, honor their dignity, and make them family instead of desperate outsiders?

If you take only three things away from this essay, I hope the third is this: you and your community don’t need bastards to thrive.

RESOURCES TO YES-AND WITH

Achele Mbembe — Necropolitics

Angela Y. Davis — Are Prisons Obsolete?

CriticalResistance.org — Abolition Toolkit

Joe Macaré, Maya Schenwar, and Alana Yu-lan Price — Who Do You Serve, Who Do You Protect?

Ruth Wilson Gilmore — COVID-19, Decarceration, Abolition [video]

[ack3rlady]

Good evening

So here is one of the plots I always imagine you being erwin's little sister and levi is his best friend so he loves you and levi being levi would show through actions like buying the best gifts because he listens and cares also picking you up from places and agrees with erwin that you aren't allowed to have a boyfriend

Is that kinda out of character 🤔

Dinaaaaaaa! Sorry it took me forever to write this! It started off as something and turned into something else and then i had to sit and clean it up. Hope you like it bby!!

Pocket Watch

Summary: You and Levi go from despising each other to being two fools in unrequited love. Hange comes up with a disastrous plan to bring you both together that backfires. Big brother Erwin comes to the rescue :)

Notes: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff with a dash of angst, Hange being Hange.

WC: ~3k

Master List

You and Levi had a turbulent start. From the moment you laid eyes on him, you absolutely loathed the man so much that even his presence made you see red. He was rude, disrespectful and above all, tried to murder your brother. From the looks of it, he disliked you too, given you were Erwin’s sister, and also because you charged towards him with your blade right after, only to be restrained by Erwin himself.

Unfortunately, with the loss of Flagon and his squad, Shadis transferred Levi over to yours after that fateful expedition. And for the first time in your life, you hated your job. The thought of waking up in the morning and seeing his grouchy face, listening to his flat, uninterested voice irked you. You lost the will to get out of bed. Hange had to physically drag your body to the training grounds every day.

To say that you and Levi didn’t get along, would be an understatement. It would take mere seconds of being around each other for a new argument to break out. And because you were his new Squad Leader, you were forced to be around him almost all the time. The day mainly consisted of excessive eye-rolling, taunts, sarcastic retorts which would soon turn into a quarrel and then a massive brawl until Miche or Hange stepped in to pry you off each other's throats.

The new nicknames you coined for each other had traveled throughout the regiment. He referred to you as Shithead, and you called him Shitface.

For him, your interactions had turned into a strange form of entertainment. In no time, he had figured out which button of yours to push to get the reaction he wished to see. Meal time, which used to be the only two hours you could spend without him, was also brutally snatched away from you when Erwin insisted that Levi should sit at your table from now on.

“I have to look at Shitface’s shitty face all day. Did you absolutely have to invite him over to eat with us?”, you asked Erwin with your eyes boring holes into Levi, face contorted as if you just bit into a lemon.

The new commander suppressed a smirk; Hange and Miche were not polite enough to do the same.

“As if I want to be around your shitty head for any longer than I need to.”, he quipped nonchalantly, taking a sip of steaming tea out of his cup.

The back-and-forth, constant bickering and impromptu sparring continued until both you and Levi were promoted to captain’s position, a few months after Erwin became commander. Now that you both had your own squads to manage, you didn’t see him as much anymore.

You refused to admit it to yourself, but you missed him; missed being around him even if it only led to another one of your infamous fights. Your eyes would search for that familiar midnight head everywhere you went; relentlessly darting from one face to another until they landed on a silver pair looking right back at them.

Levi was in a similar dilemma. His life seemed a bit too calm, too quiet. No one glowered at him when he began training in the morning. No one screamed bloody murder in his ears every few hours. He actually missed the sound of your voice, even though he considered it the shrillest cacophony until a few days ago.

He found himself looking for reasons to be near you, scheduling his squad’s training sessions around yours. Awkward glances would be exchanged every few minutes, with both of you clearly realizing the difference in the way you looked at each other ever since your new roles drew you apart. They weren't glares of annoyance anymore. There was an unknown warmth present in your gazes. What was this foreign feeling?

“Miss me, Shitface?”, you asked upon bumping into him for the fifth time since morning.

“You wish, Shithead.”, he responded, lips upturned into a smirk.

Lately, there was a new found playfulness in your interactions. The words you exchanged pretty much remained the same, sans the sharp edge they had before.

.

.

It was late in the evening. It was also the first anniversary of that catastrophic expedition which stole Isabel, Furlan, and your childhood friend Victoria from this world. You snuck a bottle of whiskey from Erwin’s cherished collection of spirits and fled to the roof, a place you generally retreated to when feeling low.

You were greeted by a lone figure who was already sitting in your spot. But today, Levi’s presence didn’t bother you. On the contrary, you felt relieved to see him. When did the sight of him go from being bothersome to soothing? You took a seat by his side, popped open the bottle, drank to all the loved ones you had lost, and shared stories about them.

Well, you did. He only listened.

“If only I got there in time. I could’ve saved her.”, you sighed, thinking about Victoria.

Levi felt a pang in his heart, because that was exactly how he felt about Isabel and Furlan. If only he had never left. If only he made it back before it was too late.

If only.

You were not much different from him. He regretted treating you harshly without ever understanding your story. He felt terrible about how he never bothered to find out you too were silently suffering from the same pain as him, that there was a tragic reason why you even had a vacant spot on your squad for him to fill.

He watched your face glow under the moon light, your lips spread into a gorgeous yet melancholy smile as you fondly remembered the departed. His breath hitched when he felt a delicate weight on his shoulder, body tensing because this was the first time someone was this close to him.

He slowly looked down at your head leaning on his shoulder, teary eyes looking up at the moon. This moment, this image would forever be etched into his memory. Because the reason why he perpetually craved your presence around him suddenly became clear. Because this was the exact moment, he realized that he was in love.

After you were finished talking to your heart’s content, Levi walked you to your room and stayed long enough to make sure that you fell asleep. That night, he fought hard against this new feeling bubbling up in his heart as he watched your angelic face while you slept – A need to be with you, an urge to tell you how he felt, a longing to feel your skin underneath his fingers, to make you the first and the last face he would see every day.

He valiantly fought against the flutter in his heart, conquered it, and locked it away in the remotest corner of his mind.

.

.

You could see the faint light of the rising sun from behind your closed eyelids. You needed to be on the move in a few minutes and start preparing for the day. But instead, you chose to stay in bed, and replay the events from last night that brought a smile to your face – the way Levi’s pale skin shone in the silver luminescence of the moon, the way his softened eyes stayed pinned on yours when you spoke, how the strands of his hair swayed with the cool breeze, how you suppressed the urge to run your fingers through them, how you wanted time to stop just so that you could steal a few more moments with him.

You begrudgingly opened your eyes and removed yourself from the sweet flashback, only to find a delicate pocket watch on your nightstand with a note neatly tucked underneath it. It read -

Time took away my old friends, but also gave me a new one.

- L

.

.

Six months had passed since that day. Six months since you were both confronted by your feelings, and also six months since they remained unrequited. He had accepted that this was how it was meant to be, because, one – The world was a shitty place that could rip you away from him at any moment, two – his relationship with Erwin was far too important to jeopardize. Levi decided it was best to remain silent.

You, on the other hand, wanted to live every day like it was your last; and try to experience as many things in life as you could before death knocked at the door. But you knew of Levi’s outlook on relationships, and decided to respect his beliefs, without forcing your ideas on him.

So, you would both hold on to the little things, like having tea and meals in each other company, training together, watching the moon from that same spot on the roof and mainly, searching for each other among the multitude of soldiers, just to exchange silent smiles of assurance before each expedition as if it would be the last time you would be seeing one another.

This didn’t go unnoticed since another pair of eyes, four eyes were hanging on to every single one of these acts.

Hange was an intelligent person, not letting one thing escape their sight. When they were not immersed in analyzing titans, they were studying humans, and their vision was made even stronger by the thick pair of glasses adorning their face.

That is why they did not miss the subtle glances or a single smile exchanged between you and Levi, or even how the man who hated people with a burning passion would willingly enter crowded markets just to find you the perfect present.

It first struck them when he bought a stunning painting of the sun setting beyond the mountains. But instead of finding it hung on the wall of his office, they found it sitting on your desk the next morning. Then it was an intricate tea set that he purchased, which was now located on your table. And finally, the multiple books he painstakingly selected from a quaint shop in the bylanes of Trost that were all lined up on the bookshelf in your quarters. 

And they were not the only one noticing these patterns.

The silent but dazzling sparks flying between his sister and his right-hand-man caught Erwin’s eye too. His prominent brow would rise in curiosity when Levi would expressly insist on positioning you in the safer zone of the formation during expeditions. He saw how the captain would turn to you for your opinion on important matters, and you’d respond with a quiet nod. He also observed how Levi was not rude to you anymore, a complete paradox of his behavior from just six months ago, when you used to be the bane of his existence.

His suspicions were confirmed when he casually asked Hange about it. They squealed in excitement when Erwin’s account matched theirs. Miche agreed too, adding his own two cents to the story.

Erwin’s mind was racing, the usual calm in his blue eyes looking stormy. His brotherly instincts were tingling. He had never approved of any man you introduced him to in the past, always finding some or the other reason why they were not good enough for you.

But, upon giving it further thought, he couldn’t fault Levi. He knew that if there was anyone who could protect you better than Erwin himself, it was him.

The only area of concern was his quirky behavior. But he personally witnessed how you could hold your own before the man on numerous occasions. He had noticed how you had begun to smile more often when he was around, and how you remained calm and made better decisions in the face of danger outside the walls ever since you became close with Levi.

Your happiness and safety were all that mattered to your brother.

So, he gave Hange his blessings to carry out their ‘diabolical plan’ to bring you and him together. Together, they recruited Miche as the perfect decoy. According to Hange, the plan was simple. Miche would sweet-talk with you, in turn making Levi jealous. The jealousy would eventually make him flee the comfort of his shell and confess his feelings to you. Simple, right? Unfortunately, it wasn't.

.

.

“Hey gorgeous! You look wonderful today.”, Miche appeared out of thin air while you and Levi were sipping on tea and reading the newspaper on a bench under a tree in silence.

Levi’s eyes slightly widened upon seeing the tall man’s hand snake around your shoulder.

“Thanks, Miche.”, you replied politely, albeit a little confused, but not swatting him away.

Miche had been your friend ever since you were a fresh-faced cadet. And he was known for getting close to people to get a good sniff. So, his proximity wasn't a surprise, although the sudden compliments were. But you didn’t dwell over them, assuming that the beautiful morning had him in a pleasant mood.

Levi knew that you were strong enough to tackle Miche to the ground if his touch was unwelcome. The fact that you didn’t refute his advance, meant that you didn’t mind.

Maybe he wasn’t as special to you as he thought. Maybe the unspoken bond between you and him was all in his head. His thoughts immediately began to spiral, and he abruptly stood up and left without a word, leaving a baffled you, and a triumphantly grinning Miche behind.

What Hange, Erwin and Miche thought was the successful execution of their plan, was playing out to be the exact opposite, much to their ignorance.

This happened a few more times over the next week – during training, lunch, meetings – wherever you went, Miche followed. Levi felt his heart skip a beat every time he saw you smile in the other man’s presence. His jaw clenched whenever Miche cooed in your ears, his face just inches away from yours.

Levi was obviously jealous. But instead of stepping in and owning up to his feelings, he began to distance himself from you, only seeing you during work meetings and barely acknowledging your presence even then. He would turn in his tracks every time you were about to cross paths. The serene tea breaks in his company came to an abrupt halt when you would find his office locked and empty when you visited at your designated time.

You were beginning to feel hurt by this newly cold Levi, the equivalent of how he used to be before that night on the roof. Maybe him reciprocating your feelings was all in your head. You felt lonely after suddenly having lost your best friend and support system without even knowing why.

Erwin began to notice changes in your demeanor once more. The beaming and chirpy little sister that he was used to, was showing signs of suffering. But you would never admit to it when he asked; saying that you didn’t want to add to his already full plate.

He found you one night, sitting by the window of your dark quarters in tears. He slapped his palm over his forehead upon finding out that the sole reason behind your heartache was the debacle of a plan that the three had come up with. He came clean and encouraged you to go talk to Levi, revealing that the whole plan was only intended to bring you both closer.

You ran through the hallways, first to his quarters, just to find the doors locked again. Then you headed to the mess hall, hoping to catch him sipping on his late-night tea. But the vast room was deserted except for the scouts scrubbing it clean. So, you nervously headed to the place you were sure to see him. And that’s exactly where you found him.

There he was, perched at the exact spot on the rooftop, the same place where you had spent numerous nights together over the last whole year.

Levi perked up upon hearing your approaching footsteps. He didn’t even need to turn around to know it was you.

“You don’t talk to me anymore.”, you said, taking a seat at your old spot beside him.

“Well, you found someone else to talk to.”

“So, you just decided to leave?”

“I figured you had Miche and didn’t need me anymore.”

You turned to him in disbelief. The unchanged expression on his face was a sign that he did indeed believe what he just said.

“Do you just think you're that easily replaceable in my life? That someone can just walk in and take your position?”, you asked

“You did just let him do it, didn’t you?”

“Ugh!”, you harshly pushed his shoulders with both your hands. “I did not! Stop saying that you Shitface!”

“Tch! What's your problem, Shithead?”, he scolded, tightly clenching the collar of your jacket in his fist.

“My problem is that I’m in love with you and you’re too stupid to see it.”

His eyes and lips shaped into three round Os. “Huh?”, he huffed breathlessly.

“I love you. Since that evening that we spent right here one year ago, and I’ve been in love with you ever since . Miche was acting on some stupid directions that Hange gave him. There’s nothing between him and I, Levi. It’s you. It’s always been you.”, you said, quoting Erwin’s words and revealing Hange’s plan to him.

With that same fist around your jacket, Levi pulled you close; crashing your body into his, gently pressing his lips upon yours. Your heart began to pound upon his touch that you had been yearning for since over a year. His lips were warm, and soft, and he gingerly nibbled on yours, making you smile into the kiss. You felt his cool fingers raking through your hair accompanied by gentle hums of bliss. He finally broke away, allowing you both to catch your breath, resting his forehead on yours.

“I love you, Shithead.”, he whispered. “But, I’m going to kill those two giants and four eyes tomorrow.”

[softboywriting]

Little Moments | Billy Russo

Summary: Tension in familiarity leads to confessions after a terrifying event. [Billy Russo x Reader] [Violence] [Blood] [Gunshots] [Assistant!Reader] [Alternate Timeline - Castle family not mentioned/never happened] [Fluff] 

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This is my first Billy Russo fic, we’ll see where this goes yeah?

Just over a year ago you took a position as an assistant with Anvil. The job wasn't too bad, basically you took care of paying the bills for the facility, keeping inventory of supplies and equipment, scheduling appointments and keeping track of who was deployed where and why while keeping tabs on them and their duties while on deployment from Anvil. You had done work like this before, managing in a grocery store in your early twenties. It wasn't all that different, just instead of managing products you managed people. No the job was not difficult but your boss. Well. He was something else. 

William "Billy" Russo was a force to be reckoned with. Intelligent, handsome, cunning. His smile could kill. His eyes...they were something all their own. To say Billy was attractive was an understatement. But attraction was only part of the problem. The other part is his sharp tongue, quick wit and dry sarcasm. A year of sharing an office with him had put you on edge. You never know what he would do next, what he would say next. Some days you wish you could fuck him right there in that expensive leather rolling chair behind his desk. Other's you want to rip his leg off and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. The two of you got close, going back and forth with playful banter almost daily. It's like you’re always on the edge of being something more, if one of you would just make the first move.

Things finally come to a head one day when you've got a particularly large workload on your plate and Billy has decided to go on one of his little rants about who knows what, you tune him out. He is always coming into the office and talking to himself. Maybe he is talking to you, but you rarely participate in the conversation. At first you thought he was on a call, using a headset or something, but no. He just talks, and he talks a lot.

"Can you shut up for five fucking minutes?" You snap, head pounding from eye strain. You've been at the computer for six hours now, and you're trying to transcribe a call from one of his units over in Turkey about a job. Billy's mindless chatter has gotten on your last nerve today. 

Billy stops, falling silent somewhere near his desk. The room becomes thick, heavy with tension as you both remain silent. You've never snapped at him, not seriously. You've told him to go fuck himself but in a playful way. This was too real. Too loaded. He's your boss. Fuck.

You're not one to apologize when you're not actually sorry though. You remain silent, knowing he expects you to say something. He wants you to take back your words but you won't. 

"How much work do you have left?" 

Your eyes flick from the screen to him. He looks flushed. Angry? No. His eyes hold no malice. He looks aroused. No way. A cold sweat runs down your back. He must be livid. "I'm transcribing a call right now then I have to make copies of some invoices, order new foam guards for the weight benches and-"

"Finish the call. Then go home."

"Yes, sir."

Billy pushes off his desk and exits the room, leaving the door open behind him. You know that he isn't happy with your little outburst. You just don't know why he won't say as much. He looks turned on if you didn't know better. Or do you? 

The rest of the call goes smoothly now you don't have to pause every few seconds to rewind and listen to it to make out exactly what the unit leader was saying over Billy's chatter. You wrap up and head out as you were told. On the way out you pass Billy with a few of his higher up employees.

"Good night, Mr. Russo." You say softly with a hand raised in a wave. You always call him by his last name around other people. It's not much of a gesture but you want to keep things calm and civil. He nods, face unreadable, and gives a little raise of his hand as well. More than you expected, and it puts you at ease that you might keep your job. 

_____________________

"I'll have my assistant arrange the payment from you after the contract is finalized." 

You stop by the door to the meeting room to listen in. The men in the room with Billy are potential clients, men who want private security for multiple locations. You had greeted them when they arrived and showed them to the meeting room. They rubbed you the wrong way. You met a lot of men and women in your year at Anvil, a lot of different people from different walks of life. None of them made you as uncomfortable as these men had. You step away from the door and go to the office. If Billy wants to get in bed with them then let him. That's not your call.

"Let me grab the paperwork from my assistant." You hear through the closed door and Billy steps in, closing it behind him. "Can you give me a new client contract?" 

"Sure." You pull open the file drawer on your right and thumb through the papers. "They must be very promising work."

Billy leans on the side of the desk, quirking an eyebrow up at you. "What's got you so mouthy lately?" 

You cut him a glare and he chuckles. 

"You don't like them?"

"I'm not fond." 

"Why?" 

"They feel wrong." You extract a thick booklet of paper and hand it to Billy. "But let's not pretend you care what I think, Mr. Russo."

Billy rolls his eyes at the formalities. "You know damn well I value your input just like I do from any other person who works for me. Talk to me."

You sit up and lean back in your chair, eyes on his, your heart pounding. He's looking at you so attentively it's hard to focus. Those eyes, so soft and warm staring back at you. Fuck. He could make you spill the truth about everything without trying. "They give me a bad feeling. The second I greeted them they just...felt bad? I can't explain it."

"We work with a lot of morally gray people in our line of business, sweetheart." Billy leans back, hands spreading out on the desk. His hands, fuck they're nice. "But I will never ignore a gut instinct."

"So you won't sign the contract with them?" 

"I'll do some more investigation before I do. Talk to a few friends in high places."

You nod and slide forward to sit at the computer, closer to him. What a mistake. You can smell his cologne, his heat is pouring into your knee beside his. It takes everything in you to keep your eyes forward on the computer. He reaches over and lays a hand on your shoulder, making your body flush with heat. Why did he have to touch you? 

"Yes?" You ask, sparing a quick glance up at him. Mistake. He's staring down at you with those beautiful obsidian eyes. God they're so big and he's such a-

"Thank you."

"For what?" 

"For telling me. You've never come to me like this before about a client. I like it."

"Oh. Well it's your business so-" 

Billy leans in close to your ear and you feel that cold sweat return from when you told him to shut up. This time it's not fear or panic, it's arousal? The closeness is getting to you, your head is swimming. "You're just as important to me as this company. Remember that." 

You nod.

"Couldn't hear you."

"Y-yeah. Yes. I will."

He pushes off the desk and slides the papers he had been leaning against closer to you before he picks up the contract and smacks it against his hand a few times. "Will you set up a meeting with the Rodgers Estate for later?"

You grab a pen and scribble it in your planner. "Got it Mr. Russo."

"One more thing." He says and you look up. His hand is on the door handle. "Have a drink and relax? You're a little wound up lately. And drop the Mr. Russo shit, call me Billy when we're alone. You know that." He smiles and gives you a wink before slipping out the door to meet the clients in the hall.  

A drink? You need a week off, a spa getaway and a new career. Billy Russo is driving you up a wall and he doesn't even see it. Or maybe he does. Shit. 

_____________

A week later. Just before eight in the morning you're settled into your desk, ready to start going through some new shipment invoices when you hear a commotion downstairs. It isn't unusual for the trainees to get out of hand from time to time, fights break out, things get heated. You dismiss it and go about your work. 

"Six new treadmills? What the hell are these people doing to them?" You sigh and type the invoice number for Sports Equipmentz LTD into your system. "Billy is gonna get an ear full for this one."

There is more comotion and you look at the closed door. Another fight? Billy doesn't stand for that kind of stuff on the training floor. He would have stopped it by now. Actually, no one should be in the facility except you and Billy this early. What the hell is that noise.

You push up from the desk and go to the window beside the door, peeking through the blinds. From what you can see nothing looks out of balance. Then you hear gunshots and your stomach churns, cold and sick. There is no live fire allowed in the facility. All firearm training is done off site. 

"Fuck." You flip the lock on the door and look around for something to barricade the floor to ceiling window beside the door. There is nothing you can move alone. You flip off the light and head to your desk, grab your phone and dial Billy's number. 

No answer. You sink down under the desk and pull the chair in close. Maybe if someone does get in they will think the office is empty and move on since the desk looks unused. You reach over and shut down the computer tower, then reach up and pull down all your paperwork to clear the desk. 

Thumping from the bathroom on the other side of the office makes your heart pound. Someone is on the upper floor with you. A gunshot. Tears well up in your eyes. Why didn't you let Billy get you a conceal and carry? Why didn't you do that gun training six months ago? Because you're afraid of guns and you couldn't trust yourself not to hurt someone on accident. Fuck. Fuck! 

The door handle jiggles. You cover your mouth and try dialing Billy again. The phone disconnects as soon as it rings once. Goes straight to a voicemail. You can't remember if he is with a client today. There are voices outside the door, then a gunshot so loud you know it's just on the other side. You close your eyes, press your face into your knees and try to imagine you are invisible. 

The door opens, not with a kick, but unlocked and you can't breathe. You can't move. They're moving around the room. Billy's desk first. Papers are rustled, then the footsteps grow closer. You shrink yourself smaller, arms in pain from holding your knees so tight. 

"If they took you, I swear to God I will-...there you are." 

You look up and Billy is knelt down, arm on the desk as he looks at you. He's a fucking mess of what you can only assume is blood and God knows what. "Billy, oh god for fucks sake." You cry and he shoves the chair away to pull you out onto his lap. 

Never have you clung to someone so hard in your entire life. You press your face into his neck, hand digging into his back harshly as you cry in relief. 

His hand slides up your back and cradles your ribs on the left. "Hey, hey." He murmurs softly and you stop crying so hard. " What did I promise you when I hired you?" 

"That I would be safe. That no matter what I would be safe and a-all I had to do was paperw-work." 

"That's right." Billy pulls you back gently, tugging your shirt to guide you. He looks horrible, but none of it seems to be from his own injuries. "Aw, fuck. You're a mess now." 

You look down at your shirt and it's got blood on it. "Oh god. Oh god wh-who..."

Billy shakes his head. "Don't think about it too much." He presses a kiss to your temple, hand on the back of your head. "Close your eyes, don't look at it."

"What happened?" 

"I'll tell you later."

"I didn't know what to do."

"Hey, no, no shh. You were a good girl. You stayed quiet, stayed down and locked the door." He rubs your back and pats your side. "We're going to get out of here and I'll handle the situation from the apartment."

You nod and peek your eyes open for a second. "It's bad out there isn't it?" 

"It's not pretty. I'll get you outside and we'll get out of here, don't worry." 

"Okay."

_____________________

You had never been to Billy's place. Never had a reason to go. It's more industrial than you expected, modern industrial chic. Posh. Very expensive obviously, but that was Billy. Well dressed, well spoken. He looked the part to play the part. 

He set you up in a large bathroom and gave you clothes, a shirt and a pair of pajama pants. They might fit alright, Billy is quite a bit slimmer than you are in the hips and thighs. 

You look in the mirror and clench your jaw. Your peachy colored blouse is ruined, your sweater is fucked. Your face. God your face has someone else's blood on it. Across your cheek and nose where you had pressed your face into Billy's neck. 

There is a pile of washcloths and you grab a few, soaking them and scrubbing at your skin. You pull your clothes off fervently, desperate to be clean of strange blood. The shower is large, open and ready to be used. So you do. You get in and turn the water on and sit on the floor, processing. It was all a blur. Everything happened so fast. Was it even real?

Some time passes and you see the door open. The water is getting lukewarm as it cascades over your skin. You don't even care if he sees you naked you're so out of your own head. 

"I'm going to head to Anvil. The police have arrived to investigate the break in."

"Okay." You croak, not looking away from the wall opposite you.

"You can stay." Billy walks into the room and leans over the shower to turn the water off. He squats down beside you and offers you a towel from the warmer by the toilet. "Mind getting out of there for me?"

"Billy, what happened?" You look over at him and he looks...normal. He's in a blue sweater, dark jeans, boots. It's the most casual you've ever seen him. He's always been a suit man to you. Here he looks like a guy you'd meet at a bar and share a few beers with. The guy you'd take home and laugh about jokes with from stupid comedian on TV. It's strange, but warming. 

He helps you up and wraps you in the fluffy gray towel. "Your feeling? About the clients I met with?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You were right." He slicks your hair back off of your face. "They got wind that I was looking further into why they wanted my employees. It was for a human trafficking operation. I don't do human trafficking, and I was going to decline the offer. Some snitch at the Rodgers Estate let it out that I was asking questions. I guess they thought they could clear their tracks by killing me."

"O-oh."

"Mmm. I didn't think they would do something in broad daylight but here we are. Amatures." Billy steps back and runs a hand over his hair. "I called the police, said that I got a notification that the building had been beached through an unauthorized entrance. It's not a lie. Technically they did. Thankfully I wasn't there."

You step out of the shower and grab the clothes he gave you from the counter. "But you were. You...you killed those men." 

"No, I incapacitated them." He crosses his arms and pulls his lower lip between his teeth. "It was me and you or them. We were the only ones in that facility. I wasn't going to let them hurt you."

"H-how do you explain that?" You sit on the toilet and Billy leans on the doorframe. "What if-" 

"That's my job sweetheart. You worry about yourself, here. I gotta go meet the cops." He pats the wood a few times and looks out into the hall. "Call me if you need anything. I promise I'll answer no matter what."

You nod. 

"I'll be back later."

____________________

Hours pass and you become familiar with the apartment. It's huge, the penthouse of a very expensive building downtown. It has two bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen and dining area, a living room, a balcony that wraps around and has a fire pit and a small private pool. It's more luxury than you could ever afford. Not that Anvil doesn't pay well, because it does. This is just far more than you could ever make. 

In Billy's room there aren't any personal touches. It's clean, picture perfect even. Like at any moment someone could come and take photos to sell the place. There is a picture on his bedside table, the only thing that isn't straight from a design catalog. It's you and Billy with a few investors. Your first meeting he ever brought you to. How could you forget? He bought you the dress literally an hour before the meeting because yours ripped in the back. It was possibly the most embarrassing thing you've ever done in front of a boss. He didn't make you feel bad or anything, he simply asked your size, stopped at a shop on the way to the dinner and got you a dress. It was just that easy, that normal. 

You set the photo down and lay back. Your eyes close and you imagine what Billy is like outside of work. Of course you've gotten a taste of that, all the banter and shared stories. Nothing too deep but enough to keep conversation going. You probably shared more than him, way more. It was like when you started talking to someone you couldn't stop. You just, information overload the poor person. Usually people get spooked away, or they tell you that they don't care or don't need to know. Not Billy. He just listened, gaze fixed on you while you talked. Maybe that's why you like him so much. He listened. He cared. 

"Cozy?" 

You roll over and open your eyes to find Billy in the doorway to his room. "You're back. I didn't hear you come in?" 

"There is a bed in the other room y'know?" He chuckles as he goes to sit at the end of the bed and pull his boots off. "Or do you just like mine because it's bigger?" 

"Oh yeah, yours is much bigger. Comfier too." 

He hums. "Go through all my shit?" 

"You know it." 

"There's my girl." He looks back and he's smiling. "I was getting worried about you. You seemed pretty shaken up."

You sigh and shake your head. Of course Billy doesn't think about how you've never been in a dangerous situation short of falling from a tree when you were ten. To him gunfire and blood were in a day's work as an ex marine special operations. "I think I'd be more worried about you."

Billy turns and crawls up the bed, leaning with his head on his hand, elbow propping him up. "Why's that?" 

"Been a while since you saw live action hasn't it? You're not worried about PTSD?"

"I've seen plenty of action since I got out. I know the risk I take running the company I do. It hasn't happened before now but it was bound to eventually."

"Right, yeah."

"Do I scare you?" 

You shake your head. "No, not really. I know you've done things, seen things that I couldn't even imagine. It's part of who you are, who you were." 

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that. It was them or us. You know that right?" 

"Y-yeah. I know." You pick at the bedspread and he bumps his hand against your knee. 

"You alright? I tried to keep you...away from it. I know you aren't like everyone else."

"I'm not ex military you mean." You feel your chest tighten. "I'm a civilian. I can't defend myself." 

Billy sits up and lays a hand on your back. "Hey, hey."

"I shouldn't stay at Anvil. I should just go somewhere else. I can't do this, Billy, I'm scared what if this happened again?" Tears spill over and down your face. "I-I can't." 

"I will never let anything happen to you." He turns your face to look at him. He's warm, his lips plush, eyes on yours. "You can work from home if you want. I'll stop by and bother you and make you tell me to shut up." He smiles a little as your lips turn up at the telling him to shut up part. "You like that?"

"I don't know, but I think you do." 

Billy laughs softly, his smile wide. "Maybe I do. You noticed that?" 

"Maybe." You wipe your eyes and he brushes a stray tear away with his thumb. "Why do you care so much? I'm just your assistant." 

"Because I love you."

"W-what?" You hiccup as your breathing stops for a moment. 

"You're like family. I trust you with everything, I tell you everything, you're my girl." Billy runs a hand through your hair. "I can't lose you." 

"I don't-...I'm just-" 

His lips press against yours and your eyes fall closed. It's an innocent kiss, soft and loving. "If I read this wrong all this time, you gotta tell me." He murmurs, head pressed to yours. 

"No, you didn't. I just, you just caught me off guard." 

"Yeah?" He smiles, nose scrunching up against yours. He places his fingers under your chin and tilts your head up to kiss you again briefly. "You're sure it's okay?" 

You nod and he pulls back to kiss your temple, holding his nose to your hair and cradling the back of your head. 

"Get some rest, I've got some calls to make." He climbs off the bed and heads for the door. 

"Are you leaving?" 

"No." 

"Good." 

He walks back quickly and kisses your cheek. "I mean it. Get some rest."

"I would if you'd just go already."

"Oh. You think you can just get rid of me?" He crawls back on the bed and you fall back as he straddles your hips. "You think you can boss me around huh?" He starts tickling your sides and you squeal, thrashing under his surprisingly strong hold. 

"Stop! Stop! I yield!" 

Billy stops and bends over, bracketing your head with his arms. "I knew you'd be fun to torment outside of that stuffy office." 

"I hate tickling." 

"Oh that's very obvious. I've made a mental note, highlighted it in yellow and everything." He bumps his nose against yours. "I'm gonna find everything that makes you tick." 

You reach up and run a hand over his hair that's flopping forward from lack of product. "Expect to get as much as you give." 

"Oh I do." His lips ghost over yours as he speaks. "I look forward to it." 

You shove his head to the side and he flops over. "Don't you have calls to make?" 

"Maybe." 

"Go make your calls. I'm going to stink up your bed and rifle through your drawers more." 

"I expect no less." He says, getting up and going to the door once more. "Let me know if you find anything you like, yeah?" 

"Get out!" 

He just cackles and you close your eyes. This is really happening. Funny how the world works in mysterious ways. You never thought you'd be the one to snatch Billy Russo off the market but here you are, and you're pretty damn proud of it. 

The end 

-----------

Header image by delicate-venus

Thank you so much for reading, please reblog to support content creators. -A

[acreativeme]

Anti-undercover

TW: Mentions of death, getting shot, and blood.

Anti-Undercover 

Ivan Ortiz x Reader

Y/N stood in the doorway of the Director’s office, listening as he and her unit chief, Jess LaCriox, talked about her new mission. She has to fake her death and go undercover in an underground anti-government group. With her familial history, they think that she is the best option for this mission.

“You will not be able to tell anyone about this mission.” The director stated, leaning forward against his desk. 

Y/N shared a look with Jess, knowing that it is going to pain her to not tell Ivan. “I understand, sir.”

The director handed her a thick file, dismissing them as she grabbed ahold of it. “You have a week to prepare.” He said, just as she was shutting the door.

She nodded sharply, closing the door tightly behind her. She couldn’t stop from thinking about the what-ifs and how Ivan is going to handle her death. When he joined the team, something clicked within both of them and they became incredibly close. The spark blossomed into something more shortly after they became friends. 

The next day, they got a case. A man was targeting women, who he deemed were trying to ‘end to male species’-- which kind of pissed her off. She talked with Jess about how this case could be her way to fake her death, because of this man’s disdain for women. He was quick to agree, but brought up that they have to be careful. 

When they had narrowed down some locations, Jess and Y/N were lucky enough to have actually found him. He was holding a female CEO of a Management Company hostage in her Town Home. 

With their guns raised, they silently move towards his ranting and raving about how she should only be managing men with her body. Y/N frowned at his statement, kind of wanting to shoot him in the nuts. Jess nudged her, signalling her to take charge. 

Y/N stepped into the kitchen, because of course he wants to put the woman in her place. “Graham Holmes… FBI… Put your gun down and step away from Ms.Holloway..” Her voice was firm and authoritative.

His face grew red at her tone. “You have the audacity to use that tone with me!” He screamed.

Y/N smirked, “Considering that I am more important than you, I think that I have every right to use any tone I want with you. I mean seriously, my cat Ginger has more brains than you.”

He growled, like literally growled, at her, moving his gun so that it was focused on Y/N. “You think you are sooo special, but I bet any of your male counterparts are ten times the agent you will ever be.” 

Y/N shrugged, brushing off his comment. “They can’t be ten times better than me, because I trained them. I am better than any man on my team. I am far superior than any of them.” She said it slowly to make sure it rubbed him wrong.

He screamed, pulling the trigger of his gun. The bullet hit her stomach, causing her to fall backwards just after getting a shot off herself. She hit him dead center.  

Jess moved in quickly, calling for two squads and that an officer was down. He cut Ms. Holloway free. “Where are your kitchen towels?” He asked, looking around the busted up kitchen.

She pointed to the drawer next to the sink. “In the top drawer.”

Jess nodded, grabbing three towels. “Thank you.” He fell to his knees, pressing the first towel to the wound. “You did great, Y/N. But please don’t actually die.” He whispered the last sentence.

She winced, smiling up at him. “You taught me well, Jess.” She coughed up blood. “I think the bullet hit my lung.” She gasped, trying to take in air. 

Panic filled Jess’ eyes, “Don’t talk. Breath in through your nose.”

Her eyes started to droop. “Tell Ivan that I love him and I am sorry.” A tear rolled down her cheek, mixing with the blood that she had coughed up. 

The team stood around a blown up picture of Y/N, sharing memories of her. Jess had to stand back and watch as the team mourned someone who wasn’t even dead. He watched as Ivan drank and glared at the photo of the one person he loved. His heart ached, because he knew what Ivan was feeling and he wanted to make it go away.

Jess walked up to Ivan, who had just taken a long swig of his beer. “It will be okay.” He squeezed his shoulder.

“I was going to propose.” Ivan replied, voice raspy from holding back tears.

Y/N was coming back. She had gotten enough evidence to shut down the anti-government group within 6 months. She couldn’t help but be proud of herself, because any other agent would have taken over a year to collect the amount of evidence that she got. The leader had warmed up to Y/N quickly, especially after finding out that her father had led one of the largest anti-government compounds /groups in American history. She had told him that her father had her infiltrate the FBI as a spy, but was killed before anything could come of the information that she had stolen. 

It was partly true. Her father was the reason behind her joining the FBI, but not for that reason. She had hated what her father screamed about and she wanted to put him away. She was also not going to share that she had been the one that killed her own father--- which only happened because he was using her 4 year old sister as a shield. 

Y/N took a deep breath, straightening her mask-- cause COVID.. She pushed open the door, walking in slowly. “Anyone here?” She asked, looking around.

The team, who had been about to go over a new case froze, had been scattered around a large room. “Y/N?” Hana asks, slowly standing from her place at the table.

Y/N waved awkwardly. “Hey, guys.” 

Hana almost tackled her into a hug, sobbing in relief. “You are alive!” 

The rest of the team, minus Ivan and Jess, took turns hugging her.  Just as Kenny was pulling away, Y/N saw Ivan storm out of the room. She shared a look with Jess, who nodded at her to follow him. 

Y/N found him outside, glaring at a tree. “What did that tree ever do to you, Ivan?” She asked softly, walking slowly towards him.

Ivan tensed up, eyes squeezing shut in anger. “It pretended to be dead for 6 months and thought it could walk back into my life without warning.” 

She sighed, heart breaking at the pain in his voice. “You were supposed to know that I wasn’t actually dead. I made a list and gave it to LaCroix.”

He groaned, finally looking at her. “LaCroix knew that you were still alive?”

Y/N nodded. “He was the one that recommended me for the mission.”

“What was the mission?” He asked, fully turning towards her.

“Shutting down an anti-government cell that was inspired by my father.” Y/N responded, not holding back. “He and the director thought that I was the best option given my history. I didn’t want anyone else to suffer like my sister, like me. I had to do my part in shutting down something that my father had inspired, Ivan.”

Ivan slumped against the tree, anger draining from his body at the sight of her big eyes. He understood where she was coming from, as he had to do things for this job that he normally wouldn’t.  “I am still mad.”

She chuckled, eyes swelling up with tears. “I figured. I am so sorry, Ivan.” She took a cautious step towards him.

He nodded, signalling her to walk closer. “I forgive you.” He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest in fear of her slipping away. 

“I love you, Ivan.” She whispered into his chest, tears falling freely. 

He kissed the top of her head, tears falling too. “I love you more.”

[ladyeliot]

It’s been a long, long time 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never knew what fate had in store for you, as if it was testing what it had offered you one day it took away from you the next. It was almost four years after Steve gave himself up to save the world, but you had never given up hope of being with him again.

Warnings: Angst. Disappearance. Fluff ending.

Word count: 2883

A/N: Captain America First Avenger / Avengers Endgame. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Song: It’s been a long, long time - Harry James

1949.

The rumours of his possible return were fading with time, but hopes were not falling.

Nearly four years had passed since the end of the Second World War, and the consequences were soon felt worldwide, especially by those who had survived that tragic period. You had been present from start to finish, being a potent participant in the covert operations linking the US and the UK. Although you had not been on the front line fighting as a soldier, you had been on the front line commanding the actions they would take. In 1939 you became a member of the British Royal Military, then a recommendation from a superior officer led to you joining the Special Operations Executive, a British spy agency, changing your destiny, causing MI5 to contact you, and then you were seconded to the Strategic Scientific Reserve, a top-secret Allied war agency during World War II, created by President Roosevelt. Too many things happened in a single year, too many things that would change the course of your history, but the most important was yet to happen.

In 1943 you were assigned to Colonel Chester Phillips' training base, known as Camp Lehigh, where you were assigned to supervise the candidate division of Project Renaissance, the project that changed everything. Project Renaissance was a highly secret project run by the United States Government. Its aim was to create super soldiers to be deployed during World War II against the Axis powers, thus having a great advantage in strategic warfare, however things didn't go as planned and they only had one success, a young man from Brooklyn named Steve Rogers.

You could never deny that you didn't notice him the first moment you saw him, he instantly caught your attention in two ways. The first of them was his physical shape, he stood out for his small stature compared to the other cadets, and his physical appearance looked sickly, although his medical record didn't say anything about it. On the other hand, the other aspect that impressed and inspired you was his courage and endurance to face each of the tests they had to pass, as well as his cunning, all of which won you over, as well as the generals of the project, as he was selected for the Renaissance project. The time you spent together at Camp Leigh made you realise the determination and humility he possessed, traits that the other members of the group, or any other man you had met before, possessed only to a slight degree.

The day the experiment was carried out, that is, the injection of the Super Soldier serum into Steve was another turning point in your life, the young man who went into that machine was not the same as the one who would come out of it, at least for everyone present, a human being went in and a super soldier came out, although for you he was still the same Steve Rogers with 30 centimetres more height and greater muscle mass. From then on he became the secret weapon that would overthrow Hitler, as the leader of the project, Dr. Erskine, was killed which meant that Steve was the only one of his kind.

You would have liked to have been able to say that your relationship was moving towards a more effective environment, but you were really living in a period of war, plus your character did not easily fit in with the word love, it never really did, or rather, you had never shown any interest in any man. You were rude, you had suffered enough harassment in your job, a job by and for men, to become insensitive in several cases. You were selective with your friends and also with the people you could trust, that's why every time you felt any affection for someone you stopped it, and that's what happened with Steve at the beginning.

Frankly, there were not too many moments to show your affection for each other, nor to enrich it, but every occasion that brought you together, there were certain feelings in the air that were never expressed in words. You encouraged him to be more than a lab rat or a fair hand for the soldiers at the front, you also helped him from your position with the missions, which after his triumph in rescuing the soldiers of the 107th infantry, were assigned to him. You complemented each other, you understood each other in many aspects that no one had ever understood, you had faith in him and he in you, that is why deep inside you were waiting for the day when the war would end to discover what it would be like to be able to dance with him without any worries around you, but it was not that simple.

As if the universe itself was mocking you, everything it had offered you was taken away in a breath. Even if you had never extrapolated it, your heart shrank every time he marched on a mission in enemy territory, you used to find yourself behind the controls of the base of operations that commanded his missions waiting for his voice or news from him to indicate what the situation was, but the last time what you saw was different. It was all a consequence of your attack on HYDRA HQ, you had worked out a strategy to take out their leader, the Red Skull, Steve was inside and you later came in with the assault guard and became part of the operation. Things had gone a little shaky during the operation, as the Red Skull managed to gain access to a ship and almost escaped from the place, but at that moment you appeared as if you were a breath of air together with Colonel Chester Phillips to offer him the last chance for Steve to finish him off and gain access to the inside of the ship that was about to escape, but not before sharing your first and last kiss. Every day you remember the last words you said to him in person "Go get him." before watching him jump into the plane and disappear into the snowy mountains.

After that, the ship became a direct path to death unbeknownst to you. A few hours later, from the command post, you managed to maintain a direct connection with the ship, specifically with Steve who was still inside it.

"Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?" you all heard from the intercom.

"Steve, is that you? Are you alright?" your heart raced as it did every time he was away from you on a mission.

"Y/N! Schmidt's dead.

That brought a breath of relief that neither of you had experienced for a long time, you could see a little light at the end of the tunnel that was getting closer and closer to you, but what you heard next put the light out again.

"What about the plane?" you asked still worried about his situation.

"That's a little bit tougher to explain," Steve's words were choppy.

It really was complicated, the plane was loaded with explosive devices and was clearly headed for New York City, that meant there was only one possibility and you all knew what it was. You tried to talk him out of it, to find a new solution, but time was running out.

"Y/N, this is my choice," a lump formed in your throat at those words. "Y/N?"

"I'm here," you managed to say with watery eyes and a hand to your lips.

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance," you heard through the intercom, as a sharp gust of air rushed in between his words.

"Alright," you hid a soft sob. "A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."

"You got it," he said firmly, making it seem real that he was going to show up there on Saturday.

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"

"You know, I still don't know how to dance," a wistful smile appeared on your face at his words.

"I'll show you how. Just be there," you said almost begging him.

"We'll have the band play somethin' slow," Steve picked up the pace of his words, "I'd hate to step on your...

That was the last time you heard his voice, the line connecting the intercom to Steve went static with a soft continuous noise, that's when the tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

"Steve? Steve? Steve?"

Of course, life puts us all to the test, we believe we need redemption for the acts committed in the past, that often makes us lose hope that better times will come.  Almost four years have passed since those last events, since you shared your first and last kiss with your Captain America, since you heard his last words and since you felt that thing called love. Now your life had been turned upside down, you had dreamed for too long of meeting him, of seeing his face again and not only through those war films, but your life went on and you couldn't keep yourself stuck thinking about him, that's why you had decided to leave the Strategic Scientific Reserve and go into a new project with Howard Stark, called S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was unusual for the month of January to have that warm morning out, although it was actually quite comforting as it had brightened up your day, and even when you got home you opted to start cooking to the rhythm of whatever song was playing on the radio, which was unusual for you. The open windows allowed the sun's rays to stream into the living room, offering that homely touch that the little house in the middle of a residential neighbourhood lacked. Due to your countless projects and missions in the SSR you had not been able to enjoy home life as much as you would have liked, although it was really your decision, that house was too quiet and too big for you alone, although the radio offered you the company you sometimes needed.

As if it were a special event you had brought out the table linen and arranged the table in the parlour to eat there for the first time, normally you used the table in the kitchen, for you did not waste too much time on your meals, but this day was a new beginning, a new year, a good time to work out new habits. You opted to open a bottle of wine, which had been a gift from your dear friend Howard Stark, and poured yourself a glass while you waited for the chicken to make its acquaintance in the oven. The rhythmic melody of Nat King Cole along with your glass of wine lifted spirits that hadn't been this high for some time.

"Love is all that I can give to you," you intoned as you walked around the kitchen.

The midday seemed to be going smoothly, until a crashing noise from the front door brought you to a screeching halt. "Ogh, Mrs. Foster," you said to yourself before taking a sip from your glass of wine to fill your spirits. Mrs Foster was the neighbour from across the street who was always knocking on your door whenever she could, hoping to whisper about the other neighbours and glean as much information about you as possible, the funny thing was that she always barged in at the most inopportune times.

"I'm coming!" you exclaimed, taking off your apron and placing it on the counter. "I'm there!"

When you reached the front door you took five seconds to exhale the air inside you, position your dress correctly, take another breath, roll your eyes and expose a wide grin before you very quickly lowered the door handle. We've been talking before about all the turning points that changed your life and shaped your destiny, okay, that was one of them, maybe the most important one of all, the one that set the rest of your life on track.

"Hello Mrs. Fos-!"

Your voice disappeared, your vocal cords seemed to break at that moment, your wide, false smile also vanished as if it had never been on your face, your eyes seemed to have no eyelids and your lungs ran out of air, leaving you breathless. What you saw when you opened that door was your whole life, every moment appeared in front of you as if it were a frame. They say that happens when you are about to die, but it happened to you when the person you had loved had returned from the dead and was prostrate before you. You couldn't tell whether your reaction was the most humane or what someone else would have done in your place because you had never met anyone who had. Soldiers sometimes took long months to return home after the war ended, but it had taken Steve almost four years to do so.

Perhaps there had been hundreds or thousands of times you had imagined that moment, and now you didn't know what to do, your limbs were stiff, you were grateful for it or you would have collapsed in those moments. You kept holding the doorknob tightly, while he stood there on your porch staring at you, not knowing what to do. They were the longest minutes of your whole life, or maybe they were only a few seconds, you didn't know how time worked in those moments, but that didn't matter, your emotions recovered when you looked into his eyes, those blue eyes that you had dreamed of so many nights and they were watery, that was the sign that told you that this was not a dream, it was real life.

The air opened again and passed through your lungs in the form of a gasp, you shared the wateriness of his eyes in yours and in a moment you were wrapped in his arms. You could feel him again, or rather you could feel him around you for the first time. His arms were around your back bringing your body closer to his.

"You're... here." you murmured against his chest almost afraid that your words would make him disappear again.

"I'm home," he whispered against your forehead before kissing it and pulling away to look at your face.

It really was him, you noticed the odd changed feature, as if the years had passed him by more quickly, but there was no doubt that it was Steve. He placed his hands on your cheeks cradling your face, that sensation made you close your eyes as you placed your hands on his. Gingerly, you felt his breath collide against you and the longing for his lips that had haunted you for so many years came to an end.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

"No, you're home," you murmured, taking his hand and bringing his palm to your lips.

The open windows of the living room let out the melody of the radio, as if it were one of those Hollywood feature films with its own soundtrack. For a few long minutes you stood there on the porch of your house, oblivious to everything around you, oblivious to curious stares or if the chicken was burning in the oven, there was nothing more relevant than the two of you.

After a few minutes without taking your eyes off each other you took his hand and went inside your home, there were no unnecessary questions, no comments that could break the moment, your gazes were pleased to observe each other and as if your thoughts were connected and the person in charge of playing the songs on the radio knew it, one of Steve's favourite songs began to play. Harry James' voice came into the room, giving you the moment you had wanted for four years in your case, but for Steve it had been many more. 

“Never thought that you would be

Standing here so close to me

There's so much I feel that I should say

But words can wait until some other day”

His arm found position around your waist and your face found position on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat work to the rhythm of the melody, you could never have imagined ever feeling like this again, you would have made a pact with the devil on too many occasions to feel it. It was so unreal that you had to lift your face from his chest to look at his face again, to find out if it really was Steve in front of you, it was. 

“Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long, long time

Haven't felt like this, my dear

Since I can't remember when

It’s been a long, long time”

Life had offered you a new opportunity to enjoy it together, and you were never going to miss it.

“You'll never know how many dreams

I've dreamed about you

Or just how empty they all seemed without you

So kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time”

Taglist Open (DM)

MAIN MASTERLIST

[philliamwrites]

The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.1]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 5.2k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn't help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 2 There’s also a playlist for this story that you can find here and here.

Chapter 01: A High Destiny

A high destiny seemed to bear me on until I fell, never, never again to rise.

[Mary W. Shelley, Frankenstein]

    It starts as it will end: in darkness.

    Black dots dance in front of your eyes, merging into dark shadows clawing at your consciousness. A dull throb pounds in your temple, a steady rhythm that speaks of life but isn’t enough to allow awareness of your surroundings. Memory is a foreign word you can’t explain, and trying to think of the past 24 hours is an unachievable task. Every glimpse slips through your fingers like sand, and the only steady reference point is the solid ground pressing into your hands and back.

    Slowly, you open your eyes. Treetops dance in the wind, towering above you like silent guardians of ancient times. The sun winks at you through thick branchesa and dancing green crowns, indicating it’s long past daybreak—but how do you know? Your memory is still a vast pool with no bottom and no means to dive into, and yet you think there’s a voice calling out to you, a heart-wrenching young, boyish voice—no, those are real voices ringing through the woods, appearing close to you. Alarmingly close.

    “You’re awake,” a woman’s voice starts, moments later followed by a corresponding face. Round, lavender eyes surrounded by thick, white lashes peak from above at you, blinking curiously. It’s an expression far from friendly, but not exactly hostile either, and of all the things you can think of at this moment, it is how strikingly beautiful she is. But before you can say anything, another person joins, leaning too close in for comfort.

    “You got us worried there, stranger,” a young man chimes in, squatting down beside you. His uniform isn’t exactly what you’d call fit for travelling through the woods. A heavy yellow cape falls over his shoulder, more fanciful display than practical use. But something in his posture seems very attentive, his broad shoulders taut like a drawn bowstring that won’t miss its target. “Weird place to take a nap, but hey, I’m not judging.”

    “I wasn’t—” you start, immediately struck by a throbbing pain behind your right eye that reverberates through your skull and wretches a groan from you.

    “Take it easy,” another voice joins, and panic spreads through you because of the amount of people surrounding you. Where the first man is a picture of warm colours—gold and sun kissed skin nourished on warm summer days, the other man observing you with a worried expression is clad in blue and black, blond hair falling into a pale face that carries the most striking blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Or so you think, because surely a colour like this, a blue stolen right out of the sky, wouldn’t be easily forgotten.

    More movement and rustling of fabric, and a chill settles in your bones as you begin to fear that you’ve run into a bunch of ruffians who’ve only kept you alive for so long because they’re hoping for valuable information. More people emerge from the underbrush, carrying large sacks and backpacks with billycans dangling at their sides. Among them, a tall man with a beard, clad in robust mercenary’s gear, steps forward, concealing another young woman with sharp features and unusual greenish blue hair.

    The sight of her strikes you like a bolt. It tastes like familiarity and the relief of being reunited with a long lost friend. But that is impossible. This is the first time you meet her.

    Is it?

    “You brats, I told you not to head off too far,” the older man bellows, crossing logs for arms in front of his broad chest. The first three take one big, polite step away from you, but don’t look apologetic at all.

    “I’m sorry for our hastiness, Captain Jeralt,” the girl says, her eyes darting from you still sitting on the ground to him towering in his full height above them. “But it seems we would have otherwise not found this person.”

    “This person who wasn’t really much conscious a couple of minutes ago,” the boy in yellow adds with a crooked grin. “How bad would it have been if someone else would have beaten us to it?”

    “No need to make me look like the bad guy,” Captain Jeralt interrupts with a raised hand before the boy in blue can join his friends' justifications. Instead, he turns to you and regards you with a scrutinising look.

    “What are you doing out here?” he demands. “Where’s your family? Friends?”

    “Uhm, they’re—” you start, but nothing comes to your mind. Not only that. You don’t know why you’re out here, where you are exactly … and basically anything that should come to you about your own person remains shrouded in darkness. “I don’t know.”

    Jeralt nods like that explains the very reason you’re still sitting on the ground like a misplaced cargo of cabbage. He kneads the nape of his neck, his face softening the tiniest bit. “And what’s your name?”

    Unable to hold his piercing eyes, you drop your gaze to the ground, curling your trembling fingers into the fabric of your wool jacket. “I, uh… don’t know.”

    If you thought you didn’t have their attention before, now their eyes are glued on your face in different levels of shock and disbelief.

    “A case of amnesia?” the blond male says, not quite managing to achieve the right balance between blatant curiosity and polite worry. “Does this mean you have nowhere to go? Don’tknow where to go?”

    “Goddess help you, Dimitri,” the other boy groans, running a hand through his short, brown hair. “Be any more tactless, will ya?”

    “He isn’t wrong,” the girl says, observing you like you’re a fascinating new specimen in her collection of strange things. “You need a place to stay. And help until your memories return.”

    If they return, you don’t dare to say because despite all things, hope still clings to you in the deepest corner of your heart, not allowing you to follow that train of thought and what it will mean for your future.

    “Then by all means, if you want to join,” Jeralt says, waving a dismissive hand in your direction. “I don’t think you kids accept a No, so I’m going to save my breath.” He turns around with a grunt. “Get them your horse, Byleth. We’re late as it is, and another night of Alois talking my ears off will make me do something I’ll regret.”

    The woman called Byleth keeps staring at you even as Jeralt walks past her and gives her shoulder a solid clap. You can’t say if she’s mute or just speechless because she’s filled with the same strange overflowing sensation like you: like a basin filling with water but unable to drain off. It appears you’re the same age, a couple of years older than the other three but still much younger than Jeralt, and yet the moment your eyes lock, it feels like there is something far older than any of you together passing between you. Something ancient.

    “Well, first off, on your feet, little one.” Strong hands curl around your elbows, hoisting you up in one swift movement. A wave of dizziness hits you like an unavoidable spell, and the pounding from before settles back behind your right eye.

    “Amazing, Claude,” the girl hisses, and quickly steps forward to steady you, pressing one hand against the small of your back where her strong fingers curl against the curve of your spine. Her other hand gently holds yours as she helps you regain your balance. “Excuse his manners. I promise not everyone from the Officers Academy behaves like a brute.”

    “The what now?” you ask, hit by another wave of dizziness that might originate more from the girl’s soft lavender fragrance rather than the world spinning around you.

    “The Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery,” Dimitri provides this time. His posture is straight like an arrow, the stance of a soldier speaking to his officer. “That is where we attend as students and hence are going right now.”

    “And you want me to come with you?” you ask like you have the option to refuse and go somewhere else. Strangely, the thought of joining a group of armed knights and mercenaries doesn’t fill you with fear or anxiety. You’re about to tread into foreign waters, and yet your heart is calm like a still compass guiding you in the right direction.

    Claude clasps his hands behind his head like he’s got nothing to do with you feeling unwell at the moment. “Unless you have another place to be?”

    Luckily, your head does come clear and breathing becomes a little easier. You nod to the girl and she holds you a second longer before she nods back and lets go. “I guess not,” you mumble, looking at each one of them. Byleth still hasn’t moved. By now you can’t really tell if she’s looking at you or through you. Surely, she would have said something by now if she thought you were familiar, right?

    “Then it’s settled.” The girl nods solemnly, throwing her silky, white hair over her shoulder. “We welcome you in our company. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Edelgard von Hresvelg, heir to the Adrestian Empire.” Edelgard gives you a tight-lipped smile that quickly thins into a white line when the other two introduce themselves as Claude von Riegan, grandson of the Sovereign Duke of the Leicester Alliance and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, future king to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. None of these names ring a bell to you, but you nod, pretending to know exactly what they're talking about.

    “Okay, we need a name for you as well,” Claude proposes, tapping a slender finger against his chin. He has a strikingly sharp jaw that looks fit to cut stone. “Can’t have everyone call you stranger or little one now, can we?”

    “No,” you say. “Especially since we’re about the same height.”

    Claude laughs like you just told him the best joke he’s heard in years. “Soo, since we found you here … how about Glade? Or Woody?”

    “How about no,” you say with furrowed eyebrows.

    “Apologies.” Edeglard sighs and shakes her head, her expression a mix between disappointment and annoyance. “Claude isn’t much accustomed to the notion of consideration.”

    Claude rolls his eyes. “Then you come up with something, princess. Or is it impossible because you can’t take out the stick up your—”

    “Claude,” Dimitri half shrieks, his pale cheeks splotched with red dots. As he stumbles over his own words trying to apologise for Claude’s behaviour, Edelgard simply deadpans, “Bold words for someone in stabbing range.”

    The fourth in this round of strange people considers you with a blank expression, her steady gaze like a solid touch on your skin. Before a greater argument can break free between the students, Byleth says a name with a surety like she’s never said anything else in her life, and hearing it, this barely whispered word immediately lost to the wind, you just know it’s your name.

    “Yes, much better than what Claude proposed.” Dimitri nods, regaining his composure even though he’s still staring daggers at Claude. “It sounds more civilised as well.”

    “You didn’t even suggest anything,” Claude remarks, but the huff of annoyance quickly dissipates from his voice when he jerks a thumb towards Byleth. “That’s Byleth, by the way. Funny story is, we met her just a couple of hours ago as well.”

    “Fate must have brought us together here today,” Dimitri agrees with a solemn nod. “I swear on my honour as a noble knight from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus that I will see you safe to the Monastery. Lady Rhea will surely be able to help you there.”

    “Okay. Thank you,” you manage, unable to connect a face to this name in your head that feels like it’s about to burst any second anyway. The only course of action lies within those strangers who are so willingly offering help that you can’t stop worrying it’s a ruse. But without anything to offer them except your life, there’s little coming to your mind that they can anticipate in taking you with them. Tthe fact that Byleth knew your name doesn’t sit right with you as well. There’s something waiting to be grasped at the tips of your fingers, and yet you lack the strength to embrace it.

    Following the little group of soldiers and students through the woods, you remain silent on the journey, only answering questions with approving or denying hums. How did you end up in this particular forest? According to Jeralt, you’re currently moving away from a village called Remire and towards the mountains to the northeast where the monastery lies tucked away between two mountains. Judging from the clothes you’re wearing, you’re a commoner, and when Edelgard pushed a slim dagger in your hand, nothing rung in intuitive knowledge about how to handle a weapon. Your mind remained silent, like an untouched chord.

    There’s little you can say about the first impression those people left on you. There seems to be a unanimous dispute between the three students, hanging palpable in the air whenever an argument starts that’s pregnant with implied insults or passive-aggressive comments. From that you gather there’s tension between the governing fractions in Fódlan, something else you’ve learnt from listening to them squabbling.

    Byleth and Jeralt acknowledge their bickering as if it was flies buzzing around their heads. They keep more to themselves and their mercenary comrades, indicating they’re really as much of strangers to the students as you. Their conversations are a lot quieter as well, their heads leaning close together for the illusion of privacy. More than once you notice Byleth sneaking glances in your direction, and every time you lock eyes, there’s something close to comprehension when she looks at you. The further you march through the woods, the less you try to meet her gaze. Reaching the monastery is the first step to regain who you are, or so you hope, because the opposite would mean you’ll continue stumbling through the darkness with no lead to your past or why you’re in this particular part of Fódlan, and you can only hope that this Rhea person really will be able to help you.

    A sound from the underbrush cuts through your thoughts.

    Thinking it might be an animal, you don’t let it bother you too much. No one else seems to have heard it, so maybe it was just your imagination. But your brain refuses to let it rest, and fails to push it away from your mind because something about the sound doesn’t seem to be right. The more you try to focus on it though, the blurrier it gets; the less you understand its origin.

    Then, you hear a voice from within the woods. It sounds like a slurred whisper.

    “What was that?” You stop in the middle of the road, looking around the thick trees. Claude barely manages to avoid walking into you. “What was what?”

    “There’s something here.” Unable to explain further, you wave your hand around for emphasis. He looks at your hand, incomprehension written all over his face. “And that something is what exactly?” he asks.

    “I don’t know.” You wave your hand wilder. “But I don’t have a good feeling venturing further.”

    “You may be still tired,” Edelgard offers, not hiding her irritation that the journey stopped. “It won’t be long until we reach Garreg Mach. You can rest however long you need inside the monastery’s infirmary.”

    “I’m not tired,” you hiss, hand falling back to your side where it clenches into a fist. “I just really don’t think we should go further for now.”

    “And why is that?” Dimitri inquirers. He raises a hand and the soldiers following them come to a halt, a murmur of unrest breathing through their lines, and it’s just enough that you question if it would be better to play if off and admit your mind is playing tricks on you due to exhaustion.

    But whenever you blink, a red veil falls over your right eye, blurring your surroundings. Little red dots move slowly in the distance through the forest. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it’s some sort of life form far away, slowly advancing on your position. “Because someone is coming,” you finally manage, scratching the thin skin below your irritated eye that’s started twitching slightly. “Someone is coming towards us from southwest. And I can’t say if they’re friendly or not.”

    Three pairs of eyes consider you like you’ve grown a second head. Only Byleth stares into the woods like she might find the strangers you’re talking about waiting behind the trees if she just looks hard enough.

    “Little one, are you sure this isn’t just an aftereffect from you hitting your head?” Claude offers, squinting into the woods. You’re pretty sure he’s staring directly at the moving dots but for whatever reason can’t see them.

    “Unless amnesia is suddenly another term for going crazy, I don’t think so,” you snap, unable to hold back the irritation raising to the surface.

    A whistle echoes through the tree crowns. Byleth snaps her head in the direction of the sound, growing all tense. She raises her hand into a tight fist, and all movement stills behind you. When you turn around, you see the mercenaries waiting in the underbrush like a flock of crows ready to swipe down on their prey. Jeralt breaks away from them and approaches Byleth, a frown cutting a deep wrinkle into his forehead.

    “Bandits,” he says, and quickly signs a hand gesture to the nearest bowman. He nods and disappears between trees. “Another mile away. If we stay on this road, we’ll walk right into them.”

    “Seven hundred feet, actually,” you blurt. Jeralt looks at you like you’re a cockroach under his boot. Another whistle cuts through the woods, one long followed quickly by two short. Byleth exhales audibly, and only now you notice she’s moved to stand beside you. “Seven hundred feet,” she mutters, her eyes fixed on you.

    Jeralt tenses. “How do you know, kid?”

    “I don’t know,” you mumble towards your boots. “I just see.”

    There’s an uncomfortable silence falling around you, and you’re too afraid to look up and read distrust in their eyes.

    “Does it matter?” Claude finally breaks the silence, sliding his bow from his shoulder. “They won’t be a problem with the knights and mercenaries on our side.” He jerks his chin towards Byleth, already plugging an arrow from his quiver. “You should really see her fight.”

    “Wait,” you say, reflexively reaching for the hem of his cape. “Don’t engage them yet.”

    Claude stops, one eyebrow arched up in a curve. “Beg your pardon?”

    “They come from the woods. Which means this is their hunting ground and they have the advantage. They have dozens of archers. I think they’re waiting until you reach a glade. And then open fire.”

    “Which means we’ll end up as skewers.” Claude scratches his chin and twirls the arrow between his slender fingers. “I can think of better ways to shuffle off this mortal coil.”

    Dimitri perks up. “You’ve read the Tale of Hamelot I gave you?”

    “I’ll give it a six out of ten. His soliloquies were awful.”

    “Boys.” Edelgard snaps her fingers impatiently as Dimitri opens his mouth to protest. “Not the time.” She takes your wrist and pulls it away from Claude’s cape, her hard gaze like a sharp knife. “Are we simply ignoring the fact that we have someone in our midst knowing the enemies’ movement and deployment?” she cuts in harshly. “Is this a plan to lure us into an ambush?”

    “You think someone would give away their comrades’ position just like that?” Claude eyes her wearily. “Don’t be so suspicious of everyone.”

    She glares at him. “I rather be suspicious than dead.”

    Which is a valid point and a trait you willingly admit to share with her, but that doesn’t really solve the problem at hand. Luckily, Dimitri seems to think the same. He doesn’t unfasten the spear on his back yet, but his fingers dance swiftly over the handle, immediately resting on where he can easily pull it from the straps if needed to strike down an enemy. “Fact is enemies are approaching,” he concludes, looking at his fellow students in search for a consensual ceasefire. “We must put an end to them before they target defenceless travellers on their way out of the forest.”

    “Spoken like a true crowd-pleaser,” Claude says, either unable or not caring to hide the mock in his voice. “We can resolve our new friend’s condition after we take down the enemy.”

    “I don’t agree with this,” Edelgard declares, but nonetheless unclasps the double-bit axe from her back and swings it on her shoulder like it weighs nothing. “But I accept that this is a more pressing issue.” The easiness in the movement robs your lungs of air, and even though there are more important matters to focus on, you wonder how her muscles play under her black uniform swinging around a thing like that. Your admiration comes to a quick end when Jeralt and Byleth close the circle. Her hand rests on the hilt of a short blade as she scans the underbrush, her body rigid with battle anticipation.

    “Let them come to us,” Jeralt announces. “Let them think they have the advantage.”

    “Your knigths over there move slow through the woods,” you say, gesturing at the waiting man clad in heavy armour and armed with shields. “But their amour can resist some stray arrows coming down on us. It’s the rearguard that will take them by surprise from another direction and—”

    “And charge their flank or rear to finish them off,” Jeralt ends with a crude nod. “Indirect approach. I thought of that as well.”

    Your mouth goes dry. The idea plopped seemingly out of nowhere in your mind, but yes, now that you think about it, that is the indirect approach tactic, first recorded after the Battle of Nicaea in … Faerghus? Or was it Adrestia? The picture in your mind is still blurry, but now you can make out definite lines of objects: Books with drawn pictures of pointing arrows and coloured lines, each lettered with a name or an approach in a neat handwriting that isn’t yours. The picture triggers another wave of dizziness, disappearing as fast as it appeared.

    “They’re going to faint in three, two, one…” Claude’s voice rips you back to the present. You glare at him and raise a fist to show how close to fainting you really are. He only laughs at the tiny fist in front of his face.

    “Enough brats, get into position,” Jeralt bellows, and the students scatter with a bouncing step in all their strides as they take the lead of a small unit.

    You’re about to retreat to the furthest point away from battle when Jeralt blocks the way. “Not you. You’re going with Byleth.”

    “I’m what?”

    “Byleth,” Jeralt nods to the young woman ahead of you, “will be the commanding unit and you’ll help her.”

    The world tilts a little as panic takes hold of you. “I can’t. I don’t know how to fight.”

    “You seem to know enough to plan a counterattack.”

    “That doesn’t mean anything.” Your voice sounds horribly piercing even to your own ears. “It was just a lucky guess.”

    “I don’t know what’s the deal with you,” Jeralt says with a finality to his voice that doesn’t allow objection, and this time you clearly see the head of a mercenary guild, one that gives commands with every breath. “But that wasn’t a lucky guess. You see what it needs to win a battle. So you guide them.”

    He turns around sharply and leaves, not bothering to check if you plan to abandon them. It’s madness. You should abandon these people, should flee from the fight that will demand blood and death. One, two, three … six steps and you’re standing beside Byleth, taking deep breaths. It doesn’t help. She eyes you sideways with a raised brow, and you flinch at the metallic rasping sound as she draws her sword.

    “I shouldn’t be here,” you mumble, staring into the woods. The red dots are approaching faster, forming into more recognisable features of humans. “I’m going to die. Without knowing who I am or why I’m here. This is the worst day of my life. I think. I don’t know. It has to be.”

    Byleth hums beside you. You can’t tell if it’s a thoughtful or an affirmative hum. “This might sound crazy, but I do trust you.”

    “Maybe you shouldn’t,” you say, struck by a sudden fear that this all is a fever dream and you're about to lead them into ruin. It’s enough that you don’t even notice this is the first time you two are talking to each other since your meeting.

    Byleth studies you out of the corner of her eyes, then says, “A very persistent voice inside me tells me I shouldn’t.”

    “That’s your survival instinct. Listen to it.”

    “Yeah,” Byleth says, and there’s something like a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. You blink and it's gone. “I might do that.”

    You don’t really understand what’s there to smile about, but the moment quickly disappears as silence settles, only occasionally disturbed by a bird sitting in the trees above you.

    “So what exactly do you see?” Byleth whispers after a moment, barely shifting in her crouching position. You on the other hand really want to move your legs before they go numb.

    “I don’t know why you guys even believe me,” you mumble, and pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers, trying to stave off another rush of dizziness. “And I don’t understand it myself. It’s the opponent, in a way. I see their strengths and weaknesses, their amour and weapons. It’s like … it’s like the flow of battle is displayed in front of me.”

    Byleth hesitates a moment, then nods like everything is pretty much self-explanatory. You wonder if to her it really does sound plausible, as she is someone who is practically born in battle, a daughter to a mercenary who breathes battle and fighting. Before you can explain anything further, she ducks more into the bushes and silences you with a sharp hush, her body tensed. The first bandits approach the glade, their bows and arrows ready to strike as the Academy’s knights engage them. Swords and axes clash against each other, battle cries ring through the woods. Byleth gestures you to follow her, and out of the corner of your eyes you see the students do the same, moving around the bandits. From the distance, you notice Claude gesturing wildly. It’s a mix between pointing at himself and then at the space a couple of feet away from his unit, and though you’re unable to fully comprehend it, you shake your head. He gives a thumbs up and slows down until he halts inside the thick cover of ferns.

    Just when you reach the right angle, Byleth looks back at you, waiting for your approval, and after briefly hesitating, you signal with a short nod to attack. Edelgard is the first to emerge from the underbrush. She has a dancer’s grace and a seemingly unerring instinct for what her opponent will do next. Her axe cuts through the first bandits who are too surprised to regroup in time. Dimitri and Claude are quickly to follow her. The crown prince of Faerghus wields his weapon of choice like he’s never done anything else in his entire life. The spear is the instrument to a deadly song they know by heart, and whoever stands in the way of their melody is cut down swiftly. Claude doesn’t disappoint with his steady aim either, his eyes sharper than an eagle’s. He nocks his bow, draws and impales a bandit that’s been running toward a mercenary with a crooked nose and eye patch. The mercenary gives him an offhand salute and goes back to fighting a thug twice his size.

    And then there’s Byleth. At first you don’t see her as the battle’s chaos swallows her and she disappears between moving bodies. But once your eyes catch up to her again, it’s hard to look away. Byleth moves through the enemies’ lines like an avenging angel on a mission. Her sword arm causes havoc as it conducts the tact of death’s complicated choreography and one by one the bandits fall to her deadly dance. Strangely, what describes it the best, you think, is divine.

    The battle is almost over. The last bandits fall or flee back into the woods as they abandon their comrades who lay down their weapons and yield. A miserable sound of relief escapes you when you see the end nearing with little casualties on your side, thanking whoever watches over you and guides your weapons in victory.

    That is until you see something, and at first you aren’t really sure you see it. Veiled by a red haze, a gruesome scene unfolds before you: As Byleth is focused on helping a soldier back up on his feet, a bandit strikes her from behind, wedging a dagger through her spine and into her heart. When you blink, the scene is gone and with it the red veil covering your surroundings.

    You don’t think twice. Jumping out of your hiding spot, you quickly recognise what will be Byleth’s murderer. Only he never gets the chance to approach her. With everything you’ve got, you charge into him and send him flying on the ground, you on top of him. The bandit groans, groggily turning on his back to see what struck him, and before you can start to fear for your own dear life, Byleth is beside you and rams her sword into his throat, silencing him forever.

    She looks down at you and you feel like she knows what just happened. Why you jumped in. It’s in those keen, piercing eyes that speak of a unimaginable wisdom. She reaches a hand out to help you up, and when you stand, the last bandits have been secured and the chaos finally settles. That is when the throbbing pain in your right eye doubles you ever, the pain akin to a pinprick of ice hammering into your skull. The pain makes you sick as stars explode behind your closed eyes, and the more they dance in feverish circles, the harder you press your hands against your eyelids, trying to smother the pain by pressure. It doesn’t work.

    Unable to breathe properly, your stumble, and when you move your hands, your fingers smear something warm and wet across your cheeks.

    Someone takes in a sharp breath. “Your eye,” Byleth breathes, a hand raised but remaining hanging in the air like she’s unsure if it’s okay to touch you. In the background you hear someone calling out you’re bleeding, and it takes a few seconds to understand where you’re bleeding from. Your right eye cries blood when the pain finally knocks you out, darkness falling onto everything.

[notebooknebula]

Become A 7-Figure Real Estate Investor with Nick Perry and Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority

https://www.jayconner.com/become-a-7-figure-real-estate-investor-with-nick-perry-and-jay-conner-the-private-money-authority/

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Nick is the Owner/Founder/Executive Chairman of Want To Sell Now. The largest nationwide wholesaling company in the United States is based out of Austin TX.

He also owns a fleet of semi-trucks multiple eCommerce businesses and invests in multiple companies and commercial real estate. He also owns the 7 Figure Cartel mastermind that gets people quickly through the hurdles to become multiple 7 figure real estate investors.

He grew up in Northern Virginia and spent the first 5 years of my career in Personal Training before moving to Austin TX where he now resides. Nick moved to Austin with no job, network, and very little money. Soon as he got to Austin, he decided he would do whatever it took to be successful in real estate in pursuit of new opportunities.

He didn’t come easy. It took him 11 months to get his first deal but he did not give up. Nick worked 18 hours a day 7 days a week. He got a six-figure sales job at Indeed.com while he was building my real estate business. Nick devoted all of his sales commissions and time outside of my 9-5 to building my real estate business until he was able to go full-time. As soon as he went full-time, he quickly scaled his real estate company to where it is now in less than 3 years. He now has 8 streams of income and is working on creating more.

Timestamps:

0:01 – Get Ready To Be Plugged Into The Money

1:02 – Jay’s New Book: “Where To Get The Money Now” –https://www.JayConner.com/Book

1:59 – Today’s guest: Nick Perry

4:45 – Nick Perry talks about how he got started in the real estate business.

5:47 – What is your definition of freedom?

6:25 – When did you start your real estate business?

6:47 – Nick talks about some of his early struggles.

8:40 – As the owner of one of the largest wholesaling companies in the USA, Perry talks about what his company looks like and the number of deals they are making now.

10:04 – Nick Perry talks about what wholesaling is all about.

11:32 – Nick explains what is a Novation deal.

12:28 – What makes your company/organization different?

14:00 – How do you run your real estate business remotely?

16:10 – Nick talks about how he manages the rehab or repairs of a property.

17:51 – Tips on building buyers lists.

19:40 – Do you agree that it’s more challenging to find real estate deals now than a couple of years ago?

22:18 – How much money do you spend in marketing to get a contract?

23:21 – What tools in your real estate business that you can’t live without?

24:19 – What is the most important lesson that you learned from real estate investing?

26:42 – Nick Perry talks about his passion for helping other real estate investors.

28:18 – Connect with Nick Perry: https://www.7FigureCartel.com

Private Money Academy Conference:

https://jaysliveevent.com/live/?oprid=&ref=42135

Have you read Jay’s new book: Where to Get The Money Now? It is available FREE (all you pay is the shipping and handling) at https://www.JayConner.com/Book

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Become A 7-Figure Real Estate Investor with Nick Perry and Jay Conner

Jay Conner (02:10):

I don’t know about the rest of you, but today he’s down in Miami, on the beach. Anyway, this company is the largest nationwide wholesaling company in the United States, and it is based out of Austin, Texas. Now my guest also owns a fleet of semi-trucks, multiple e-commerce businesses, and he also invests in multiple companies and commercial real estate. Now he also owns this mastermind, the 7-Figure Cartel Mastermind. I can’t wait to hear about that. And that gets people quickly through the hurdles to become and enjoy a multiple 7-figure real estate investing company. Now he grew up in Northern Virginia, spent the first five years of his career in personal training before moving to Austin, Texas, where he now lives and moved to Austin with no job network, very little money. And as soon as he got to Austin in pursuit of new opportunities, he decided he was going to do whatever it took to be a successful real estate investor.

Jay Conner (03:12):

Well, it did not come to him easy and as it does for most of us. It took him 11 months before he got his first deal and he didn’t give up. He worked 18 hours a day, 7 days a week, got a 6-figure sales job at Indeed.com, while at the same time, he was building his real estate investing business. He devoted all of his sales commissions and time outside of the 9 to 5 to building his real estate business until he was able to go full time. So as soon as he went full time, he quickly scaled his real estate company to where it is now and did all that in less than 3 years. And today he has 8 different streams of income and is working on creating more. With that, let me welcome to the show here, my friend, Nick Perry. Hello, Nick. Welcome to the show.

Nick Perry (04:04):

Jay, what an intro man. That was incredible, but I’m honored and excited to be with you guys right now. So looking forward to learning it from you and, hopefully, being able to give it a lot of value to the audience as well.

Jay Conner (04:15):

Absolutely. Nick. So it looks like you’re relaxing down there in Miami.

Nick Perry (04:22):

I am. I actually just moved into a new house here in Miami Beach. So I’m getting my office set up, the interior designer’s coming back and forth. So I’m hanging out on the couch, working from the couch today.

Jay Conner (04:33):

Awesome. Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. Well, I appreciate you taking time out to join me and the audience here on the show. So are you ready? You got your seatbelt on?

Nick Perry (04:43):

Let’s go.

Jay Conner (04:45):

All right. What got you into real estate?

Nick Perry (04:49):

My entire life, coming from a kind of middle-class family, everybody that I surrounded myself with was your W-2 employees. They work 9 to 5, just like the majority of the world. And when I was a personal trainer, most of my clients were really, really well off. They were business owners, they were in sales. And those were the guys that were taking nice vacations, they were driving fancy cars, they had freedom and all the things that I wanted in life. And so rather than going with the flock to continue on a 9 to 5 path, I realized that in order to be financially free, I better go out and build a company or get into some high-ticket sales because that’s what everybody who actually had money was doing. So I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but real estate ended up turning out to be that vehicle. And it’s been incredible, as you know, it’s the best decision I ever made in my life.

Jay Conner (05:47):

So you mentioned the word “freedom.” What’s your definition of freedom?

Nick Perry (05:50):

Well, I mean, I’m sitting here right now in Miami Beach. I live two blocks from the ocean. I’ve got the freedom to be able to go where I want when I want, be with the family when I want, so yeah. If I was working at a 9 to 5 job, you just can’t do that kind of thing. So that is also freedom just to be able to go into new ventures and explore different areas of life. That’s really what it’s all about for me. So yeah, I’ve been able to create that for myself and it’s been a heck of a ride.

Jay Conner (06:26):

So, what year did you start?

Nick Perry (06:29):

I landed in Austin, Texas, like you said, without really anything. I had like $5,000 in my name and I just started learning and taking action and I just didn’t give up. And now here we are 7 years later.

Jay Conner (06:45):

Yeah. So what were some of your early struggles?

Nick Perry (06:51):

Early struggles? Obviously, everybody’s got a learning curve, but in 2014, I was doing a lot of direct mail. I wasn’t getting a lot of results either. I would handwrite the cards myself because I didn’t have enough money to pay for a fulfillment house. And I had to get good at sales, too. When I moved down to Austin, it was a much different place than Northern Virginia where I grew up. So, I had to adapt my sales style. You can’t talk so fast down in Texas like you can up in Northern Virginia. So I had to slow down a little bit, and really, the biggest thing was I was getting too much information. I think this is what happens to a lot of investors, as I’m watching YouTube video after YouTube video, trying to absorb as much as I can. And I really didn’t start getting traction until I hired my first mentor and just plugged directly into him. So I started working with Sean Terry, a great guy, in the very beginning, and I would visit with him every quarter and he would tell me exactly what I needed to do and I’d come back the next quarter. And I did that for a couple of years and that really got me going. So hiring a good mentor early was critical for my success. I was fumbling around trying to watch YouTube videos for the first 11 months.

Jay Conner (08:17):

Right. I got you. So yeah, getting a mentor, getting a really, really good coach up front was very important for you. So you’ve got one of the largest, if not the largest, wholesaling company in the US. What does your company look like?

Nick Perry (08:51):

Basically, what does it look like physically? It’s an inside sales office, right? So we’ve got 11 employees and inside of it, we’ve got 5 in Acquisitions. We’ve got 3 in Dispositions, we’ve got my seat as CEO. Then we’ve got a couple support admins and then myself. So we’re not huge, but we’ve been doing it long enough that all of our people are just A players.

Jay Conner (09:23):

So, how many deals are you doing these days in your organization?

Nick Perry (09:28):

So, when we’re in the office, we’re getting anywhere from 3 to 5 contracts every single day. So between 40 to 60 closed and funded deals every month.

Jay Conner (09:39):

Gotcha. And how many different markets are you in?

Nick Perry (09:43):

So the unique thing about my company is we market the entire United States. So I don’t have a specific market or pockets or different markets. I literally blanket the entire US.

Jay Conner (09:59):

Got you. So about five contracts a day. Day in and day out. Let’s make sure everybody understands what we mean when we say “wholesaling.” Different people have different definitions of wholesaling. So what’s your definition of wholesaling? How does that work?

Nick Perry (10:14):

Yeah, wholesaling is, you’re going and you’re contracting a property. Wholesaling, you could literally wholesale any item, but we’ll just use real estate for the example. So you negotiate with a motivated seller to get a property under contract for a certain amount that you can turn around and give it to an investor for a higher amount. So easy numbers, you’ve got a $100,000 property. It’s worth a hundred grand. You get the seller to agree to let you have that property and put it under contract for $65,000. And then you turn around and you find a fix-and-flipper or an investor that wants to buy that property. And they’ll buy it for $75,000. Well, when you get a contract with both parties and turn them into the title company, the title company will give you a $10,000 check or however much the difference is.

Jay Conner (11:03):

Right. So would you say wholesaling in your company is sort of synonymous with assigning or collecting assignment fees?

Nick Perry (11:11):

Correct? Yeah, so we collect a lot of assignment fees, but we’re not just a one-trick pony either. We do “subject to” deals. I hold a lot of rentals in my portfolio, as well. We do novations. So we’re always looking for different exit strategies to monetize more deals.

Jay Conner (11:32):

Right? Explain to everybody what a novation is. What’s a novation deal?

Nick Perry (11:36):

So a novation deal is basically if you have a seller who wants close to retail, their house is in pretty good shape, right? You can go ahead and contract that property. Say they want thousands. We’ll use the $100,000 example again. You got a house that’s a hundred and the seller doesn’t want to take a dime less than 90. Well, you put that property under contract with a novation agreement at 90,000, and that novation agreement will allow you to actually list that property at full retail. Sometimes there’s minor repairs that you do as part of the novation agreement. You may go in and do some carpet or paint or landscaping, but you’re not doing any heavy remodels. These are properties that are in fairly good condition and you can put them and list them and get full retail from a conventional buyer at the end.

Jay Conner (12:27):

Right. What would you say is different about your organization, say from some of your other friends that have real estate investing companies, or say, from some of your other competitors?

Nick Perry (12:41):

Well, being nationwide is completely different than being in a select handful of markets because we don’t have boots on the ground. That would be really impossible, as well. So in order for us to be successful, we have to literally do everything over the phone from acquisitions to dispositions, to coordinating the showings. Literally, everything from A to Z is done remotely from our office in Austin, Texas. So that’s something that’s different than a lot of people, is we’re not having any boots on the ground or anything like that. And then, additionally, my people, that’s the biggest key to my success is the caliber of candidates that we’ve attracted into our organization. I think bar none, I’ll put my team up against anybody’s team that I’ve got a great group of guys.

Jay Conner (14:02):

Give us a 30,000 foot view of how you run a totally virtual remote operation, no boots on the ground. Like what are the key components that you have to have in place for that to work?

Nick Perry (14:27):

So, we do a ton of inbound marketing pretty much through PPC. So we do all online marketing. We don’t do any telecommunications. So a lead will come in and we’re talking to them very similar to the way that most people are talking to these sellers, but when we negotiate, we negotiate over the phone. So we’re going through the property condition. We’re evaluating the property right there on our computers in Austin, and based on the comparables and the condition that the seller describes, we’ll go ahead and contract that property via DocuSign, like electronic signature. And once we have that electronic signature, then the next step is to actually get real photos on file. And that way we can actually start to market that property. So we’ll have the seller take photos for us, or we’ll hire a local handyman or a realtor to go get photos for us on our behalf.

Nick Perry (15:22):

And then from there, once we’ve got our photos, we’ve got our contract and we know how to get access into that property, then we can start locating interested parties who actually want to buy that property. So we’ll go out, we’ll find the buyer, we’ll have them usually put a deposit down before they even go out to the property, once their deposit is in and they’ve agreed to purchase it based on the inspection, we’ll give them one walkthrough after they put their deposit down. Then from there, they’ll do their walkthrough and we’ll use a local title company, or we have national title companies that we use that’ll facilitate the closing with all parties and you send the wire right into our bank account.

Jay Conner (16:08):

So a little more specifically, how do you get really close on estimating repairs?

Nick Perry (16:17):

It’s an art. So one thing that we do is we have a detailed property description and then pictures tell a thousand words, right? So yeah, sellers don’t always know the exact condition of their property, or they try to hide things, you know? But once you have a detailed Rolodex of photos to look at, that’s going to get you really close. Also, after we send somebody in there, if they find out that there’s additional repairs that are needed, we’re going to disclose that to the seller and all parties and make sure that it’s a win-win for everybody involved. We want the investor to get a great deal, solve the seller’s problems. So, nothing’s really getting past us.

Jay Conner (17:08):

You say the majority of your buyers are other real estate investors that are taking the deal down and you’re planning on an assignment fee from them?

Nick Perry (17:21):

Yeah. And unless it’s a novation agreement or sometimes, we’ll just list the properties on the MLS on behalf of the seller. And in those cases, it’s a conventional buyer, but the majority of our clients are all real estate investors like yourself. And you guys that are watching the show that are fixing-and-flipping property, or you’re a buy-and-hold investor looking for additional cash flow properties. Those are our end clients at the end of the day.

Jay Conner (17:51):

You’ve got someone that’s starting out and they want to be in wholesaling. One of the first things they need to do, I suppose, is build a buyers list, right? So what are some of your tips and secrets and strategies on how you quickly build a buyers list of other real estate investors to market wholesale deals today?

Nick Perry (18:15):

Well, yeah, that was one of my biggest challenges going nationwide. I had leads coming in from everywhere, but I didn’t have buyers everywhere. And so one thing that was really helpful to me was you’re going to these masterminds and things like that because I got to know so many other investors from different markets. I was either able to barter, trade, or buy a ton of different buyers lists. So I quickly built up a large buyer’s list just from that. And then, additionally, Facebook is a great tool. There’s tons of real estate investment, Facebook groups, all over where there’s active investors looking for deals. So that and a lot of these small towns, we just reach out to the realtors there because those realtors know everybody, right? They know the doctor that wants to buy a couple of rental properties a month. They know the big fix-and-flipper that’s doing 40 homes a year. So you just get resourceful, roll your sleeves up, and talk to people.

Jay Conner (19:18):

You can’t be picking up the telephone, can you?

Nick Perry (19:22):

Now, we are big on that. I’m big on being on the phones. We don’t do a lot of texting or emailing. My guys, it’s old school, pick up the phone, and make contact and have a conversation.

Jay Conner (19:37):

Yeah, there you go. I love it. We’re in a crazy market nationwide, pretty much every market. There’s no inventory to speak of in the multiple listing service. I hear a lot of my real estate investing friends say it’s the most challenging time that they’ve ever had, finding the off-market deals. And so we gotta be consistently marketing. So first of all, would you agree with that statement that it’s more challenging to find deals today, say than a couple of years ago?

Nick Perry (20:13):

I don’t know. I mean, I’m making more money than I’ve ever made in my career right now. So I think it just comes down to being smart with the way that you’re marketing because if you’re doing telecommunications, which is cold-calling, ringless voicemail, texting sellers, that’s an uphill battle. You’re beating on their door, knocking on their door, asking to give them a cash offer and everybody else is doing that. So one thing that was critical for me was to get really good at online marketing. All I do is pay-per-click advertising. I don’t do any other form of marketing. It’s been that way for a long time just because it’s a completely different approach when somebody’s reaching out to you, asking you for help versus you reaching out and trying to help somebody.

Jay Conner (21:06):

Absolutely. I was gonna say, it’s a whole different conversation when they’re raising their hand looking for you versus you raising your hand and you looking for them. It’s a different, whole conversation when somebody is clicking on your ad and saying, “Hey, please contact me,” versus you’re coming into somebody’s newsfeed or a Facebook ad or anything like that. I love it. So that’s interesting. You’re the only person I’ve talked to that only has one marketing channel. So that’s fantastic. I would think your sales guys, your acquisitions guys have a lot happier day than some other wholesalers.

Nick Perry (21:54):

Big time. If I were to give them cold calling leads or texting leads, they’d probably quit because I mean, it’s a completely different vibe. We get our conversions and it’s 1 out of every 10 to 15 leads is a contract. So they’re having to do much less outbound dials to get deals.

Jay Conner (22:16):

Right. What’s your average cost of a deal these days? What’s your conversion cost? How much money do you have to spend in marketing to get a contract?

Nick Perry (22:31):

I know it fluctuates between $800 and $1200. So our cost per contract’s really low because I’ve been working on PPC for so long. I’ve got my cost per lead really low at this point, which obviously plays a huge part in the cost per contract and profitability and all of that.

Jay Conner (22:49):

That’s fantastic. Do you use virtual assistants in your business?

Nick Perry (22:55):

We do. We have some virtual assistants that help out on the disposition side. We have some a couple of full-time virtual assistants that help follow up within our internal database, but the majority of my staff is all in-house right there in Austin, Texas. And they’re 5 days a week, Monday through Friday just going after it.

Jay Conner (23:21):

What kind of CRM or tools or systems do you have in place that your business really couldn’t live without?

Nick Perry (23:31):

We’ve customized our Podio to do everything that we needed to do. So that’s been phenomenal. If you’re using Podio, find a good developer to help customize it to the way that you like to do business. And then additionally Zillow, we comp using Zillow and we comp using PropStream. So those are really helpful. And then on the selling side of the properties, we use a software called InvestorLift, which is really helpful. It’ll show you all the LLCs of the people that are flipping property there in the area and give you their contact information. So InvestorLift has been a powerful tool for finding those investors across the country.

Jay Conner (24:18):

Interesting. So you’ve got quite a few years of experience right now. My next question, you would probably be able to answer this in more than one way, so I’ll just let you pick one. What’s one of the most important lessons you’ve learned since being in real estate investing?

Nick Perry (24:35):

Oh man. There’s so many. If I had to boil it down to one though, I don’t want to give you a cliché answer, like, “Don’t give up” or anything like that, but in terms of real estate investing is, “It’s going to be okay.” So here’s what I tell a lot of my students, too. It comes down to your team, and let me elaborate on that. “A” Players are the only thing that work in this business. If you have an A Player and B Player, here’s what happens. You got the B Player that ends up getting half of the leads, and that deal that your A Player would have closed and made $70,000 on, your B Player is going to fumble on that and it’s not going to become a deal. So you end up having a lot of lost revenue. So you look at that and you take that scenario and you extract it out over a week, a month, a quarter a year, you could, you could be potentially losing your multiple 7-figures if you don’t have the best talent. So I think people want to try to settle for inexperienced people, people that aren’t A Talent because they don’t think they can afford them and things like that. But I’m telling you, good talent is really the key to my success.

Jay Conner (26:01):

And what are your favorite ways to find that talent?

Nick Perry (26:06):

So I worked at Indeed before coming into real estate. So I know a lot of the tricks on how to get a ton of candidate flow there. And then we’ve come up with a proprietary way of just being able to quickly funnel through people and get near the best people that rise to the top on Indeed. So, Indeed, by far is number one and then referrals, as well. We’ve had a lot of great people come through who work with me just through referrals.

Jay Conner (26:36):

Gotcha. Super! Well, Nick, I tell you what, you have got the experience and you are one impressive human being. What is a final thought or thoughts that you would like to share with the audience?

Nick Perry (26:50):

Yeah, final thoughts. The biggest thing is if you’re already in the business, what tends to happen a lot of times is you plateau, you end up getting stuck. I got stuck in what I call “wholesaling purgatory” for 3 or 4 years where I couldn’t get past 5 to 8 deals a month. And what I did was now that we do 40, 50, 60 deals a month, the biggest difference was 1. Your team, 2. Your marketing, and then 3.) Also being nationwide. So I literally downloaded everything I know into video format and then created a mastermind behind it, as well, where I work with already experienced real estate investors that are looking to get from maybe a handful of deals a month to 7+ figures, multiple 7-figures a year. That’s what I’m really good at is helping people that are already successful in getting them quickly through those growth pains in this business because I already went through it. So that’s my new passion now is working with other investors I get to help. That’s really rewarding to me. And that’s been my new passion since I don’t do much in the day-to-day of my wholesaling operation anymore. I just get out of those guys’ way and let them close deals.

Jay Conner (28:11):

Yeah, man, and I’ve gotten the same passion and that is making a difference in other real estate investors’ lives. So let’s give everybody your website because we got some viewers and most of the people that are going to be listening to us will actually be listening to the podcast. So that website is www.7FigureCartel.com. Did I get that right, Nick?

Nick Perry (28:49):

You got it. Or you can just reach out to me on Instagram. It’s just my name, Nick Perry and then REI like real estate investments. So just Nick Perry REI, or you can go to the website, but yeah, happy to connect and help you guys any way I can.

[cuddlepilefics]

Somebody else

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Hyunjin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

Requested by: @hakunamahtata

 No one’s POV.:

With the again rising controversies around Hyunjin’s school history, the dancer was again called to a meeting with JYP. He had been to many meetings lately, sometimes with his group, sometimes with their managers. Most of the times they were discussing how the current investigations were going and how Hyunjin was supposed to act in public. At the moment he was making his way to the CEO’s office. This time, his members wouldn’t be with him but he hoped at least some of their managers would be there. Park Jinyoung could be quite scary if Hyunjin had to face him alone. The dancer knocked and after a curt ‘come in’ he opened the door and bowed politely. He was offered a seat and looking around, had to notice there were no other chairs prepared, so it seemed like it would only be him and JYP. The CEO’s face was serious when he explained that there had been no progress in refuting the bullying accusations. The mood was tense and Hyunjin, who had so badly waited for some good news, bit his lip, head hanging low. He had been anxiously waiting for something, something that would get the public’s sharp eye off of his every movement. When the dancer was about to leave the office, JYP sighed: “You know Hyunjin-ah, no matter whether these accusations are true or false, they are very harmful for the company’s image. I really wish I would have debuted somebody else.”

Hyunjin was numb. The buildings passing him on his way back to the dorm blurred together as his head spun and his heart ached. Was he not worthy to be an idol? Did JYP secretly believe the rumors and think that low of him? The dancer’s throat tightened but he wouldn’t cry, not this close to the dorm where the others would be able to see. Did his members feel the same as JYP? If they did, they’d probably be angry at him for crying when it was him who was holding them back. Did they regret having him on their team because he was hindering their success by putting the group in a negative light? Hyunjin’s eyes stung but he pulled himself together before stepping into their dorm. Chan looked up from where he had been working at the dining table, asking: “How did it go?” – “Still no progress”, the dancer answered emotionlessly. “Are you okay?”, the leader frowned. His donsaeng really sounded off and he knew the younger to be a bit dramatic, so not letting any feelings shine through was very unusual for him. Chan hadn’t even thought it possible for the younger to stay this calm when he was stressed. Hyunjin heaved a sigh: “I had really hoped for something. I’ll be in the practice room to dance a bit, y’ know, blow of some steam, clear my head.” Chan nodded. The dancer went to his room and changed into thinner, more comfortable clothes. When he was about to leave, the leader pressed a bottle of water into his hand and gave him a comforting smile. The smile Hyunjin returned ended up to be more of a grimace but Chan felt it’d be best to give the younger some space, so he went back to his laptop while Hyunjin left the dorm. The dancer’s plan wasn’t necessarily to blow of some steam, though that’d be a pleasant side effect, he wanted to improve some of his moves in their new choreography, that he wasn’t satisfied with yet. He was good at dancing, so if he could become even better at it, he might be able to shine a positive light on his group. He was determined to become somebody who brought his group forward, who his members could be proud of, he would become somebody else.

In the end, he spent longer than he had expected practicing. Somehow, he couldn’t get the moves down to his satisfaction so he went over them again and again and again. Looking at the clock, he realized it was already close to midnight. He had missed dinner with his group but that didn’t really matter. Maybe it was good that he missed his meal, couldn’t hurt dropping some weight. He had forgotten to take his coat with him on his way to the practice room. Earlier he hadn’t really minded, he had needed to cool off anyways, but now that it was night and his thin clothes were soaked with sweat, he couldn’t help but shiver. How ironic, Hyunjin now felt as cold as his heart had been feeling all day. Sneaking into the dorm, the dancer managed to get to the shower unnoticed. He took a hot shower to warm himself up went straight to bed afterwards. Initially he had been afraid that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with his thoughts running wild but now he had exerted his body so much that the exhaustion soon pulled him under.

When Chan came to wake Hyunjin the next morning, the dancer felt like he had been hit by a train. His muscles were on fire and he could certainly feel the mount of dancing he had done the previous day. Today he would be having vocal practice with Seungmin and Jeongin, which he was looking forward to. He wasn’t really confident in his singing, so he was glad to improve that too. Breakfast passed in a blur, probably because he was still half-asleep. “You ok, Hyunjin?”, Changbin asked, shaking the younger’s arm. The dancer blinked confused: “Sorry, tired still.” The rapper chuckled but let him be. Most of the members were gone for their schedules already, when Hyunjin was finally ready to head out. The two maknae’s were slightly annoyed because their hyung made them wait. They tried not to show it too much because they knew the older was having a hard time recently, but Hyunjin was able to see the annoyance in their faces. Again, he had held someone back, although he had promised himself not to. On their way to the studio, he trudged behind the two vocalists, guiltily gnawing on his lips. They needed to hurry so their vocal coach wouldn’t get mad at them and it was all Hyunjin’s fault. His youngest dongsaengs were stressed because of him and he really didn’t want to be like this. He wanted to be somebody else.

Vocal practice went quite good in the beginning, despite his throat feeling dry and slightly irritated. Maybe he didn’t drink enough when dancing yesterday, at least that was the most likely explanation to him. Hyunjin gave a scratchy cough, unable to keep up with the two vocalists. He had started to struggle about two hours in. Jeongin handed him some water while Seungmin gave him a crooked smile. They were doing their best to support their hyung, so he could feel proud of himself but the longer they practiced, the worse his singing sounded. Hyunjin was struggling to hit the higher notes and his voice sounded flat and emotionless. He continued to sip his water and clear his throat, frowning at the subtle ache in his throat. The dancer was straining to do better, singing his throat raw. Not only his throat was hurting, now hours later, his head had joined. He massaged his temples and noticed the side-glances the younger two shot him. Hyunjin gave them a smile and they continued practicing.

Their day consisted of only singing and when the three were finally free to go back to the dorm for dinner, even Seungmin and Jeongin, who were used to lengthy vocal lessons, had reached their limit. “Hyung, do you want to watch a movie with us later?”, Jeongin asked full of hope. Seungmin joined him: “Yeah, come on, that’d be so much fun. We could do something together without having to talk much. I doubt I’m the only one not wanting to use my voice much more.” Jeongin nodded in agreement. “As nice as that sounds, I already planned to go to the practice room and dance a bit after dinner”, the dancer raspily excused himself. He really wanted to get his additional practice in, no matter how tired he was. At least he wouldn’t need his voice to do that. The two maknaes nodded in understanding, though they would have rather kept their hyung at home. Thinking about dance practice, Hyunjin gave a little shiver remembering the previous night. He wouldn’t forget his jacket another time. “You ok?”, Seungmin frowned and Hyunjin nodded.

Hyunjin completely spaced out during dinner, planning which choreographies he should go over later. He made sure not to eat much, afraid to make himself sick by dancing on a full stomach. The dancer barely noticed the concerned looks he was given at the small serving he scooped onto his plate. “Seungmin told me you’d practice some more. Don’t overdo it, alright?”, Chan said, patting his shoulder when they cleared the table, “Oh, and take your jacket with you this time. I saw you leave without it yesterday but you were gone before I could stop you. We can’t have you get sick now, can we?” – “Ah yeah, I wouldn’t forget it a second time”, Hyunjin said with a forced laugh that hurt his throat. He made sure to leave right away, so nobody would try to convince him to stay back. He really needed to practice some more, so he wouldn’t hold his group back anymore. The dancer pulled his jacket around himself tightly to block the cold air and made his way to the practice room.

He was only an hour into his voluntary practice session when he started to regret it. The small headache he had developed earlier had turned into something much worse. The loud music and the jumping certainly not doing him a favor. He was tired and out of breath, the gulps of air burning his throat and drying it out even more. His muscles still sore from yesterday. Somebody must have turned the air-conditioning down, he felt cold although he had been dancing constantly. Hyunjin restarted the song, he had dizzily lost his balance during a spin and messed up again. ‘Just get it right once, then you can go home early today’, he told himself. Which was what got him through the next three hours of dancing. His hazy mind caused him to mess up more often than usual and the more desperately he pushed himself, the more he messed up. Apparently, some deity must have hurt his prayers because at ten after two in the morning, he dropped into the ending position, panting heavily. Finally, he had completed a satisfying run through the choreo. He was too tired to feel happy about it but he huffed a sigh of relief when he gathered his things and wiped the sweat off his forehead. His bed was waiting for him now. Despite having his jacket with him this time, the dancer was shivering, barely able to stop his teeth from chattering. He was still shaking when he kicked off his shoes and slipped into his bedroom. Too tired to take a shower, he crawled into bed with his damp practice clothes still on and promised himself to shower in the morning. For now, he just needed his thick blanket to hopefully warm up and rest his achy body.

The rest off the week passed in similar fashion. Hyunjin barely paid attention to or remembered what was happening around him, being to exhausted to do so most of the time. The only thing he knew for sure was that he felt progressively cold as days passed. If it was from the fever he started to run or from the lack of food he consumed, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he felt cold, both physically and emotionally. He didn’t remember what it was like not to be in constant pain, as his muscles protested each movement and his throat burned with every breath he took. Hyunjin didn’t know for sure whether he had started to run a cold from that night when he forgot his jacket or if he just sang too much. Again, it wouldn’t make a difference because a little cold was nothing that would excuse him slacking off. He really needed to pull himself together. The dancer refused to be this sensitive young boy that would need comfort and affection for each booboo. It might have been cute when he was younger but he wasn’t like this anymore. He was somebody else.

Today, they had dance practice as a group again. Despite feeling like he had been dragged through hell and back, Hyunjin got up, determined to show everyone how much he had improved himself. He skipped breakfast because his throat felt too raw and swollen to swallow anything right now. Maybe that was his mistake or maybe it was just his sickness slowly getting the best off him but only half an hour in, the dancer started to struggle badly. His movements were sluggish and his head spun faster than his body ever could. They haven’t even danced that much yet but he was panting shakily. Minho changed the song, they would practice one of his best. He had perfected the moves to this one yesterday. ‘Come on, Hyunjin. Now is your time to shine’, the dancer tried to motivate himself. The first time, he already went all out, barely able to hear the praises he got from his members over the ringing in his ears. The second time they went over it, his energy was spent. Hyunjin almost made it to the second chorus when he lost his balance and everything went black. He felt himself crash into something or rather someone, Changbin he assumed, given how wide that boy’s chest was, before he was out completely.

Startled, Changbin tightened his arms around Hyunjin’s slim body and carefully lowered the unconscious dancer to the ground. Frowning, he took in the pitiful sight in front of him. The fallen in cheeks, decorated with dark eyebags and a pink flush high up on the cheek bones. Chan stopped the music before hurrying over. The other members gave them some space, waiting to step in should their help be needed. “Hyung, he’s burning!”, Changbin worried, prompting the leader to rest his own hand on his dongsaeng’s boiling forehead. Minho grabbed Hyunjin’s towel and poured some water on it, handing it to Changbin. The rapper gently dabbed it against Hyunjin’s face before brushing the stray hair off of his forehead and resting the cool towel their instead. Hyunjin groaned quietly, his eyes fluttered open and he glanced at his hyungs dazedly. Chan forced a smile, asking: “You with us now? How do you feel, Jinnie?” The dancer tried to answer but his breath caught in his throat. Changbin carefully sat him up as he coughed and opened the water bottle Seungmin handed him. When Hyunjin had caught his breath again, the older helped him drink something to soothe his throat. “I’m sorry, I-I’m really s-sorry”, Hyunjin choked out as the first tear ran down his heated cheek. “Now, why are you sorry?”, Chan whispered with a concerned frown. The younger just started to cry harder and Changbin pulled him into his strong arms, rubbing his back comfortingly. They were all stunned when Hyunjin spoke up again: “I o-only hold you b-back all the- all the time. The alle – allegations shine a b-bad light on the g-group and the – the entire company. I should have never – should never h-have debuted. It -It should have b-been somebody e-else.”

A heavy silence hung over the entire practice room, Changbin was the first to find his voice and whisper heartbrokenly: “Now, who told you that, Jinnie? You are our member, our friend, our brother. Why would we want anybody else?” – “JYP”, the younger mumbled. While the shock settled deeper over most of the members, a hot flare of anger short through Chan. It took all his self-control to not raise his voice, which would hurt Hyunjin’s head further. The fist he had balled by his side shook slightly and when he trusted himself to speak, the leader’s voice was icy: “He’s going too far. First elimination both Minho and Felix for completely illegitimate reasons and now this. I don’t care if he owns this company, I won’t let him break my members one by one”, then he softened a bit, “Listen Hyunjin, you should have talked to us instead of suffering by yourself. I know a few managers, they are not as powerful as JYP but he usually tends to listen to them. You don’t have to worry about him, okay? You are more than enough for us and like Changbin said, we wouldn’t want anybody else. What we want is our brother Jinnie to be happy and healthy again.” Only crying harder, Hyunjin pushed away from Changbin to wrap his arms around the leader. The oldest’s words had touched him deeply and all the emotions were overwhelming his feverish mind. “It’s okay. Just let us take care of you and we’ll have you well again soon”, Chan whispered.

Changbin carried Hyunjin back to the dorm, the poor dancer having fully worn himself down. He had tried to stand up by himself but had gotten extremely dizzy after only a few seconds. What Changbin was most shocked about was how easily he could carry his dongsaeng. Sure, Hyunjin had always been slim but this didn’t feel right. They were a bit slow, so Chan and Minho walked their pace, asking the maknae-line to go ahead and prepare some things already. Seungmin went straight to the kitchen to prepare some honey-lemon-tea. He had been surprised why Hyunjin was still struggling with his voice days after their practice but now it all made sense. Felix stood close to Seungmin, chopping some vegetable while he waited for the water in the pot to boil. He wanted to make them all some soup for lunch. Jisung almost ran into Jeongin, not seeing the maknae over the stack of pillows and blankets he was carrying. The rapper had tasked himself with setting up the living room, so the group could all hang out together and watch movies. Hopefully his hyung would see just how much they all cared about him. Jeongin raided the bathroom cabinet for medicine, laying the correct ones out on the coffee table. The he went through Hyunjin’s closet and picked a large hoodie along with the seemingly softest sweatpants he could find. They only wanted their brother to feel okay again.

After having some soup for lunch, they all filed into the living room, where Hyunjin took some medicine and washed it down with the tea. His chills eased up a bit under the mountain of blankets and his aching head rested on Jisung’s. Tangled in blankets and limbs belonging to his members, who all wanted to give him cuddles at the same time, Hyunjin still felt sick but he doubted he could feel anymore okay than he did surrounded by his brothers because they loved him and not somebody else.