#I’m also overqualified for the job and they know it

[yanderenightmare]

Yandere Days of the Week

♡ TW: a lot of different stuff today, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, yandere, stalking, drugging, alcohol/poisoning, vomiting/forced/emeto, abuse of power, plotting murder, waterboarding-ish, squirting, implied bottle-fucking

♡ FEM reader

♡ INSPO: this by the lovely @yanderedrabbles

Monday is your strict boss.

He’s always breathing down your neck around the office, checking if you come in on time, laying into you when you’re anything but perfectly on the dot—not even allowing you to get settled into your cubicle before dumping a workload onto your desk on top of the one you already have, coming back with a fresh one right after lunch again.

You know you’re probably just being sensitive, but you feel as though he singles you out. Barking at you to redo things, even after you’d gone through the extra measure of running it by a coworker who’d given you the thumbs up. You don’t know, it sort of feels as if he has it out for you.

Being yelled at is already bad enough, not to mention how he’ll demand you work late to make up for the slack. And yet, that’s not even the worst part! 

No, the absolute worst part is that he’ll insist on staying behind, too—to supervise you. 

It’s utterly nerve-wracking. ‘Cause he isn’t only your boss, he’s also sort of… well… really hot. Always dressed sharply in a tailored pin-striped suit and those sharp-tipped newly-polished shoes—hair slick with a fresh barbershop cut and a chiseled face to match.

He smells good, too. And it all just makes it extra awkward for you. Especially when you stay late together, alone. He’ll remove his tie and jacket, then button up his collar and roll up his sleeves—flexing those burly arms of his and that fat wristwatch that’s worth more than your entire life savings. 

That neat hair of his will start to fall apart as the late hours take their toll, getting disheveled and only sexier for it—and the way he’ll drag his ring-clad fingers through it with a groan, looking at you with such a fierce glare, you actually have to calm your breath and suppress the urge to rub your thighs together.

But although his voice is definitely something you could dream about, you could do without it when he talks down to you, always admonishing you, grumbling about what a poor employee you are, how you only give him more work to do, how he should be compensated for it. 

You’re certain he’s going to fire you soon.

And it turns out soon is even sooner than you’d thought or hoped.

This is it, you think, once he calls you into his office. He’s finally going to do it. You’re going to have to find a new job now—without a good recommendation to help you out, no less. Knowing him and how much he despises you, he’ll probably give you a really poor review on top of it all—he might even call around to make sure no one ever hires you again. 

You’re almost about to cry.

“You’re about the worst employee I’ve ever had,” he states, sitting behind his desk with you standing before him, twiddling your fingers while looking sorrowfully down at your heels, hoping he’d have enough mercy to at least make it quick. “But since firing people is fucking impossible nowadays, I’m just gonna haf’to relocate you somewhere else you won’t be damn useless.” 

You look up at that. Tears held back in surprise. 

Wait, so… he’s not firing you?

He sighs, looking through your employee files, making the changes, “And given it’s the only job open right now, starting today, you’ll be my new personal assistant.”

Gathering everything, he brandishes the documents with his signature, then looks up at you while sliding the pen and papers over.

“Think you can handle that?”

Stunned, you only briefly think about how you’re overqualified to be a personal assistant, but at the same time, you couldn’t really find it in yourself to care, blinded with relief that you hadn’t been sacked.

You just nod your head all prettily, signing just as quickly while vowing, “I’ll try my best, sir.”

He becomes significantly nicer after that—always praising you for a job well done and giving you pretty gifts on top of your paycheck, which, funny enough, is nearly double what it used to be, all the while telling you how lost he’d be without you there keeping his life together. 

You can’t help but let it all go to your head, completely forgetting that you had bigger plans than being an assistant.

He brings you everywhere he goes now. Out of the building on business meetings, out of the country on business trips. Expensive dinners, fancy hotel rooms, big yachts and galas. You can’t complain—too busy picking your jaw up from the floor—too busy to notice his leer and how he plans to keep you by his side for the rest of his life—too busy to understand that when he stays work late, he doesn’t mean doing paperwork.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Enji, Aizawa, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Nanami, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Toji, Higuruma, Kusakabe ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae ♡ AOT – Levi ♡ DS – Muzan, Sanemi ♡ HxH – Chrollo

Tuesday is your old classmate who just moved in across the hall. 

It’s a funny coincidence, you both agree, as neither of you lives in your hometown anymore—what a small world, huh?

You’ll meet each other in the mornings when you both set out for work and small talk on your way down the stairs, then up the stairs when coming home again. It’s impressive how often it happens.

He’s always asking for the two of you to catch up—always inviting you over for dinner to talk about old times and what you’ve gotten up to since. 

You never know what to say… You don’t feel like the two of you were all that close during school, so you’ve turned him down each time, hoping if you ask him for a rain check enough times, he’ll eventually just forget.

But after coming home, tired after a grueling Monday and an even harder Tuesday, on top of realizing you didn’t have anything stocked up in the fridge, you end up agreeing to his home-cooked meal when he offers in favor of ordering takeout.

He lights up at once, “Great!”

It’s a bit of an overreaction, you think. But hey, he just moved here—maybe he hasn’t made any friends yet. It’s not easy being in a new place—he’s probably dying for some company. 

Shoot, now you feel a little bad for not having agreed earlier. You remember how it had been yourself when all you ever did was go to work every day—not knowing what else to get up to in the city. Maybe you could give him a hand, tell him about a few places—just to help him get on his feet.

“Yeah, just let me shower and change, and I’ll come over,” you say, unlocking your apartment. 

“Sure thing! See you soon!” he cheers, watching you go with a big beaming smile on his face, only turning around to unlock his own place when you’d closed your door.

He’s a little strange, you can’t help but think—or maybe he’s just that eager. Thinking about it, you don’t remember much about him from college. Honestly, he’s one of those faces that just sort of end up blending into the background. He never made any impact in class or at any parties or other gatherings. You don’t know, he was always rather quiet. You don’t remember him having any friends either. 

But whatever, people change, and he seems nice enough—maybe he was just more concerned with his average. Fucks knows you weren’t.

You shower quickly, not bothering to wash your hair or put on anything too nice. It’s only a Tuesday, after all—it should be casual. A bralette, boxers, baggy T-shirt, shorts, and slippers later, and you pop out the door and knock on his.

He’s quick to answer. “Hey! Come in, come in—it’s almost done!”

“Cool, thanks,” you say. “Smells good.”

He ushers you to take a seat at the tiny kitchen table he has. Similar to yours, actually—these apartments aren’t all that big. Still, his place is poorly furnished. But then again, he only moved in a little while ago, so you won’t judge.

He rushes over with dinner shortly. Spaghetti, meatballs, and red sauce. A classic. You’re not complaining. However, you could have done without the candles and moody lighting. It’s the kind of thing you’d expect from a corny date, but you decide to ignore it.

“Wine?” he offers despite it being only Tuesday. 

You know you probably shouldn’t, but the start of the week has been hard, and you honestly wouldn’t mind the good night's sleep that follows a few glasses of red or anything that would make the affair go over a little more smoothly.

“Sure, why not.”

And yet, it’s still a little awkward. You don’t know what to talk about—you just end up droning on about work, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Then you remember what you’d thought about earlier and start talking about some of the places and things he should check out now that he lives here. You try asking him about his work and why he decided to move here, but he doesn’t seem very interested in talking about himself.

After finishing, it isn’t long before you feel drowsy. You blame it on the wine at first—starting to think it was time you thank him for the hospitality and excuse yourself. But as soon as you get up, you’re already falling over.

No worries, though. He’s been waiting and ready to catch you for a while.

“It took you some time to agree to come—I was afraid you’d never say yes, but I’m glad you finally did… I was about to take other drastic measures…”

You’re so sleepy it’s suddenly impossible to grasp what he’s saying—as well as have any sort of grasp on the situation while you’re being carried bridal style away from the living room, through a door into a very dark room.

“I bet you don’t remember me that well, huh?” he continues as he lays you down on something soft, something that swallows your body in a way you can’t really decide if it feels nice or not. 

He keeps talking while you try to figure it out, “Hm, that’s fine. I remember you very well.”

You connect one and two associations and come to conclude the thing beneath you is a bed. It ripples and dips with the added weight once your neighbor crawls over you. Your body doesn’t yet recognize being alarmed, but something behind the fuzz that’s taken over your mind still has enough common sense to make you feel as if something’s not right.

“I just had to follow after you, you know?” he keeps rambling, but you’re only barely able to listen. “I just needed some time to save up the money and all, but I was right behind you. And made sure I’d get this apartment right next to yours.”

He looks at your pretty face—all spaced out—stroking your cheek all slow and delicately.

He sighs, “Heh, I know they say that if you love someone, you should let them go—but I just couldn’t find it in me.”

His hand travels further down—eyes following the trail. Down, down, down, until reaching the hem of your shirt.

“I had a crush on you since day one, you know?” he confesses while pulling your tee up over your bra, exposing your pretty chest to him. He licks his lips, breath shuddering, and yet he keeps preaching despite it, “All three years. I wanted to tell you, but you were always surrounded by those pesky friends of yours. It was impossible to catch you alone.”

He feels your skin with a gentle touch as if in reverence. Still, now that you’re getting used to the effects of whatever it is he’s drugged you with, you’re lucid enough to feel the treacherous hard-on he has rubbing against you. 

“Unlike me…” He stills for a moment, and something dark takes over. “I was always alone.”

Beyond uncomfortable, beyond alarmed, you’re fully terrified now. You want to scream, but you can’t find the strength to move, even just a finger. Completely limb, and yet not numb, but sensitive to all his awful touches.

“But that’s all in the past.” He smiles. “Now that I finally have you all to myself.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Tenko ♡ JJK – Yuuta ♡ HQ – Yamaguchi ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Nirei

Wednesday is the cheerful clerk who works at your local grocery store. 

You like doing your grocery shopping on Hump day. It only makes sense, after all—you’ve made it through the first half of the week and deserve to spoil yourself a little! 

He’s only just a bit older than you and yet still plays the older and wiser card—all in good fun, though, making a few comments about your lifestyle, jokingly telling you that “Candies are strictly  for the weekend, you know?” A brow quirked while looking at you slyly.

And you’ll return his banter, giggling while saying, “A little fun never killed no one.”

It’s an innocent flirt the two of you share—neither of you really expects anything in return. He’s just a really friendly guy—always coming over to help you in the store. Tall as he is, he reaches the top shelf, barely needing to stretch his arm. Sometimes, he’ll even take a look at your shopping list and help you gather everything, bag your items, and then carry them out to your car as if the two of you are the people around and the store isn’t filled with dozens of other shoppers in bigger need of his assistance.

He mostly only sees you on Wednesday, but he knows your entire life story and your day-to-day schedule the way the two of you end up talking. Usually, people would be wary of sharing things with strangers, but you trust him with so much exactly because he is a stranger—treating him no different from a confidant. No one knows you as intimately as him. He knows all your little habits—from what you eat on a daily basis to what brand of soap you use, even what type of tampons and pads you like. 

He doesn’t appreciate you eating things outside of the groceries the two of you pick together. He fucking hates it, actually—it makes it feel like you’re cheating on him. Every time you eat out, order in, go to a bar or cafe, even a fucking candy store is like a stab to his back and heart all at the same time. It drives him crazy—he might just burn all those places down to the ground. 

But he never lets any of that show when you’re in the store. It’s not your fault after all that there are so many temptations out in the world. You just need a little help saying no.

You don’t have to worry though. After he becomes your boyfriend, he’ll be that help for you. 

Yeah, all you have to do is stay home and he’ll make sure you get what you need. He won’t let you indulge as much as you do now, of course, but he won’t be too strict either, so don’t fret. 

He’ll make sure you get all the right nutrients to lead a long, happy, healthy life—get your body ripe and ready to start a family. 

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Natsuo, Mirio ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo ♡ HQ – Daichi, Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Yukimiya, Aiku ♡ WB – Suo, Umemiya, Togame

Thursday is your is your random-ass friend who’ll drop by unannounced. It’s never anything crazy, though—no, just a fun hang-out to get a little headstart on the weekend. He’ll bring a joint or maybe some gummies—he likes to keep you guessing. And the two of you will watch cartoons or shitty reality TV, play a round or a dozen of Mario Cart or the like—giggling over each other’s commentary.

He’s chill, laidback, a fan of both comfortable silences and making good conversation. A really good friend.

Yeah, a really good friend who likes sticking his tongue down your throat when you’re knocked out from all the laced drugs he keeps passing you. 

“God, you’re so clueless,” he moans when bearing over your passed-out body where you lie all comfortably oblivious on the couch. “Just a naive cutie pie who’s gonna get her gullible little pussy used.”

You make him so hard—you have no idea how he licks your face and kisses your eyelids. Drunk of the power he has over you and feeling all but unhinged because of it. 

He feels your limp tongue with his fingers, playing with it while grinding against your thigh. Breaths thick with lust—eyes half-mast, getting overstimulated by all the nasty things he’s going to do to you and how you will never ever find out about any of it.

“You know I fuck you raw every time I come over? That’s right, every single time,” he laughs and shudders in delight, whispering the truth into your ear despite knowing you’re in no state to hear it. 

“Mh, I use this body like my own personal sex doll. There’s not a spot left I haven’t touched.” He tugs down your top and takes both your tits in his hand, squeezing them as if they belong to him because, in his mind, in these special precious moments he shares with you, there’s not a part of you that doesn’t belong to him and there’s not a part of you he can’t do whatever he wishes with.

And so, he sucks and licks your pretty tits too and keeps raving, “You’re all mine, every single part of you—I own it all.”

He pulls up your skirt and strokes your cunt through your panties, sliding his fingertip through the slit as if he’s teasing you even though you’re going to stay just as unresponsive no matter what. But in his mind, he imagines it wants him—that your pussy desperately craves him without you knowing—that it’s a secret the two of them share with each other and that they're somehow in cahoots on keeping you oblivious.

“You’re always so tight and wet—it takes everything in me not to cum inside, but we wouldn’t want you figuring things out and ruining our fun, now would we?” he rambles, finally sliding your panties to the side so that he could slip his digits within, pumping you sweetly while you sleep oh-so-soundly and blissfully unaware, getting you good and ready to take his cock in the next minute.

“Yeah, it’s gonna stay our fun little secret forever.” 

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Lev, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Karasu, Shido ♡ WB – Togame

Friday is the bartender at your go-to club. 

He’s seen you in every state of drunkenness possible—from tipsy, plastered, sloppily drunk to flat-out shit-faced. You’re a bit of an alcoholic, you know that? Once you start, you can’t seem to stop yourself. If someone puts a drink in front of your face, you dont even think before grabbing it—all laughs and zero critical thinking.

Of course, the way he overserves you, you’re bound to get fucked up.

“Wanna go home…”

He holds your drowsy body against his chest, keeping you upright.

“My shift’s done, and my place is right above here, so you don’t gotta worry,” he says, soothing you as you cling to his side, utterly unable to stand on your own two feet, flinching at the flashing strobe lights and wincing from the blaring party music—feeling as if there’s a seismic eight earthquake raging on inside your poor head.

“Where’ my friends?” your words are so slurred, they’re barely audible. 

But he hears you, chuckling before cooing at you, “Let’s get you someplace comfortable, and then we’ll contact your friends, okay? Sound good?”

You burble a few incoherent sounds before uttering out a weak, “Okay…”

“Alright then, baby, don’t worry, I got you,” he purrs in return, getting a better grip around your body as he leads you out of the club, into the elevator, and up to his flat.

“I feel sick…” you mumble, whimpering.

And he coos, “I know, baby, it’s okay, I’ll help you.”

He leads you to his bathroom, setting you down on your knees in front of the toilet. You don’t think much of it when he lifts up your little party dress and tugs it off over your head—feeling as if he’s just making you comfortable. Yeah, he's just taking care of you.

“Let’s empty that system of trash, yeah?” 

He gets down on his own knees just behind you, cradling you as he gathers your hair back with both hands—gripping it a little too tightly in a single fist before being just as rough, sticking two of his thick digits deep into the back of your throat. 

You immediately gag and throw up. 

And he hums, sounding pleased while praising you, “That’s a good girl—get it all out.” 

He doesn’t pull his digits out despite you struggling, trying to wrench away—no, he just uses his bigger body to keep you pressed and hunched over the toilet bowl while finger-fucking the back of your throat—smiling sadistically while at it.

“Come on now, baby, I know you got more in there. Let it out.”

He keeps you there for half an hour, making you dry gag and spit, mascara streaming down your pretty face as he feels your smaller body convulse under his weight. Fuck, it’s enough to make his cock pre.

“Good girl,” he purrs, petting your hair and placing a kiss on your temple, all while you shudder and sniffle. “Let’s get you washed up, hm?” 

He reclaims his harsh grip on your hair, just as tightfisted, using it to make you crawl across the tiles until reaching the tub. He takes his place behind you—trapping you between his legs, thighs, and crotch, keeping you locked against the porcelain edge while he fetches the showerhead and immediately sprays your face with the cold at full force. 

“Open up, baby, let’s wash your mouth out.”

You yelp, whining, but he finds your protesting more amusing. Finding your nose with his other hand, he pinches it shut. Making you gape and gasp for breath through the water stream. 

But he doesn’t leave it at that. No. The shower head is about the same size as your fist and proving to be just small enough to allow him to force it into your mouth—all but waterboarding you.

He has to chuckle at your fussing—you’re so weak he barely has to put in any effort keeping you in place—he nearly busts in his pants feeling it. But the best part is how when he lets go of your nose, the water starts coming up and out your nostrils.

He let’s go before you drown, of course. Snuff isn’t on the menu tonight. He’s been stalking you for far too long—he can’t just waste it with foreplay.

You collapse on the floor, shivering and coughing—head a spinning mess, still wasted, riddled with shock yet stifled by exhaustion to do anything but lie there, trembling against the wet tiles.

“No, no, no, baby, you can't fall asleep yet. The party’s still far from over,” he admonishes, giving your cheek a few small slaps before grabbing your upper arm and pulling you up. “Yeah, come here—I’m far from finished with you...”

He carries you out of the bathroom and drops you on his bed. 

“God, you’re fucking dumb,” he grabs your face, pinching your lips while giving it an ugly kiss. “Did your mommy never tell you not to go home with strangers, huh?”

Leaving you there, he goes off to find your purse.

“Let’s let your friends know you’re home safe, hm.”

You try getting up while he’s gone, crawling around in the bedsheet like a worm, but not managing to get anywhere. 

He watches you and scoffs while typing up a message, hitting send to your most recent group chat. It only takes a minute before all the dumb bitches you call friends send hearts in return, saying how fun tonight was.

They have no idea what they’re missing out on.

He saunters back to you. Enjoying every second of watching you squirm. Thank fuck for alcohol, and god bless dumb party girls.

“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” He grins while grabbing your ankles and pulling you to the edge of the bed. “You’re not going anywhere, baby—you’re staying right here with me where I can have my fun with you.” 

His hands go up and down your soft skin, thinking of all the pretty marks he’s going to leave on you before curling his fingers around your slutty string panties.

The lace is all wet from his earlier actions as he tugs it down your thighs and legs, tossing it over his shoulder before spreading your legs and pulling you even closer. 

“Aw, you got your pussy all clean-shaven for me?” he awes with a smirk, “What a good girl you are.”

He’d planned on having a bit more fun with you before giving in to his urges, but seeing your pretty little cunt so ready to be fucked, he couldn't be asked to wait any longer, needing to fuck you like he’d been wanting to ever since he first spotted you in the club so many TGIFs ago.

“You sure like to party, don’t you?” he rasps while buckling up his belt and zipping himself down, letting his pants drop before grabbing his painfully hard cock. “Always at the club shaking this pretty little ass of yours—just a dumb party animal, huh?” He just knows your little cunt’s going to squeeze him tight like a trap—he isn’t even going to give you a finger test before bullying himself inside.

“Yeah, you like having fun—you havin’ fun now, babe?” he bows down, biting your cheek while putting his head to your entrance, pressing inside despite the resistance. 

He was right—you are fucking tight, taking his cock just the way he thought you would.

“Fucking slut,” he groans as he starts thrusting, hugging your thighs tight. “Begging to get gangbanged out on that fucking dance floor—dancin’ like a fucking stripper for free and for all to see.”

Fuck, how he’s going to ruin you—give you a necklace of hickies all around your throat as he fucks you into a mess, then press a beer bottle inside you once he’s done—keep his cum in you all night long.

“You deserve to be used. And I’m gonna use yah for all you’re worth.”

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso ♡ JJK – Geto, Gojo, Naoya ♡ HQ – Kuro, Sakusa, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Karasu, Shido, Aiku ♡ DS – Sanemi ♡ WB – Kaji, Togame

Saturday is a gym-bro. There isn’t a day he doesn’t go. Yep, not even Saturday.

You try to go as often as you can muster. But no, you don’t go every day, especially during the weekend—and that gives him a good reason to come up to when you do—teasing you about how he missed you last time. Acting all smug and cocky when asking you what bad habits you got up to on Friday that made you skip out.

He makes you feel sheepish standing next to him as he all but bullies you for being an itty-bitty weakling. 

He’s not exactly being fair. It’s not as if you’re especially weak compared to everyone else. It’s just that absolutely everyone’s an itty-bitty weakling standing next to him. The guy’s pure muscle and taller than most of the equipment, for crying out loud!

One time, he’d demonstrated his strength by daring you to hang from his bicep. And sure enough, he could lift you like you were nothing. Using you like a dumbbell—which is what he’ll sometimes call you.

You’re pretty sure he’s flirting with you. It’s flattering, but honestly, you think guys like him are a bit too much. His leg has the same girth as your thigh, and so does his neck—not to mention how you think he has enough strength in his hand alone to pulverize your skull in one simple squeeze.

Besides, he’s way too full of himself. You get being proud about health and fitness, but holy shit, does he never shut up? He’s always bragging about how much he benches and how many reps he does every day—and on top of everything, he seems to always be watching and studying you, commenting about your form, and mansplaining how you can get better.

He gets on your nerves. 

But then again, the guy does seem to know what he’s talking about. And after several weeks of neither seeing nor feeling much results, you finally decide to let him help you out.

And he does. Taking you through all the motions, from warm-ups to really pushing yourself, and now, the cool-down stretches. 

Though… you can’t exactly say there’s much cooling down involved in the way he has you full-feverish, sweating more than you did during the actual workout. In the locker room, suspended against his swole chest with his arms locked around your thighs, folding you clean in half, fingers locked behind your neck as he bounces you on his thick length. And fuck, even his fucking dick is riddled with muscles and veins—feeling as if he’s fucking you with an arm the way he’s stretching you out and punching your guts to mush.

“You holdin’ out, dumbbell?” he mocks, knowing you’re a mess. “Tap out any time, yeah?” 

Fuck him, you think—as if you can move your arms in this position—as if you can even speak or make any sound except full-on panting like a bitch and drooling like one too.

One more hit, and you’re spraying—and he insists on fucking you just as hard through it. Straight pounding your wet cunt until he’s sure you’re empty before dropping you back down on your own two feet.

But just because you’ve cum like a shower doesn’t mean he’s done. No, far from it, as he rushes you up against the lockers next and continues where he left off. 

The cool metal feels good against your cheek, so good you don’t even mind how he’s pressing you flat and free of air—keeping your neck in a chokehold and your hair in his other fist while fucking into you from behind.

“Trust me, this is way better exercise for someone like you,” he grunts with a grin, feeling you go limp. Your knees shot and your whole body listless, kept up solely by his strength like a puppet on strings.

He rasps out a laugh, “I’ll be your personal trainer, free of charge—just meet me after my reps, and I’ll put you to work and make sure you go home feeling proud.”

Yeah, sure, if you don’t pass out before then.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Toji ♡ HQ – Kuro, Miya twins ♡ BLLK – Kunigami, Shido, Baro, Aiku ♡ DS – Akaza ♡ WB – Togame

Sunday is the religious guy who always comes and knocks on your door to share his faith. 

You don’t share his views, but you’d invited him in for lemonade and pastries once. 

You don’t know exactly why. You usually just say no thank you and close the door, but that time, well, you’d just finished making cupcakes, and the house smelled like a bakery—it seemed like a waste not to have company.

Sundays were usually so anticlimactic you never really knew what to make of them. But after that, you came to really enjoy spending them baking, always trying out new fun recipes. And before you even knew it, since he always came knocking on your door on Sundays to enlighten you bout God, it quickly became a thing of ritual for you to invite him in.

You’d always thought strictly religious people such as him were more… how do you say… fanatic? Or, at the very least, be somewhat passionate about talking about their God. But he doesn’t seem to be very interested in telling you about that at all. No, he seems much more invested in you and how you’ve been since last time.

Oh well, you think—maybe he’s more accepting of people having different life views and isn’t deadset on changing minds after all. Maybe that was never his agenda—maybe he’s simply a good samaritan going door to door to see if he’s needed or wanted. That is what religion is all about, after all.

Little do you know, though… he’s not really a religious guy at all… 

No, he’s actually a serial killer who’d been hunting for his next victim. 

He thought you were just perfect, exactly his type—pretty and kind and dumb, just like prey should be. Oh, but then, you became a little too perfect, didn’t you? Inviting him in with such big doe eyes, despite living all alone, feeding him cupcakes, and telling him tales about your life as if he isn’t a total stranger. You might as well be begging him to make you his victim.

But he can’t waste perfection. 

And so, instead of abducting you and frolicking in your screams as he cuts you up into a dozen pieces, he abducts you and frolics in your screams as he sucks your pussy into a dozen orgasms.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Shoto, Denki, Hawks, Mirio ♡ JJK – Mahito, Geto, Gojo ♡ HQ – Kuro, Lev, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Tomiyama

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[lovelybucky1]

1.The Interview

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“So you’re interested in being our frat sweetheart?” Joaquin asks, a comically confused look on his face. He holds your resume in his hand but hasn’t read a single word on it.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here,” you say, now matching his confusion. “The position is open, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s open. I guess I’m just confused about why you’d want it. I mean…” he looks down at your resume and begins reading. “Secretary of the Environmental Action Club, Co-Editor of the newspaper, English Honors Society, Treasurer of the Feminism Collective. This is all very impressive, but I gotta say, you’re not the usual frat sweetheart type.”

“Well, involvement in Greek Life looks good on resumes and I’m not interested in joining a sorority, so I thought this was the next best thing,” you explain.

Joaquin nods in understanding. “Got it. I’m gonna be completely honest here, I’m not really sure how an interview for this kind of thing is supposed to go. Usually, sweethearts are just one of the guy’s girlfriends, but we’re all single. All the other frats have someone to design cool posters and take pictures and stuff, and we need to look appealing to the PNMs.”

“I do have experience doing social media for the Environmental Club, and I did photography for the Theater department last semester. I’m pretty crafty so I’m sure I can make some party decorations and stuff like that.

Joaquin leans back in the wooden chair that’s likely older than him. He crosses his arms over his chest and the muscles in his arms bulge against his shirt sleeves. “You are definitely way overqualified for us. I just have one more question,” he says. “Do you party?”

You pause. You knew your personal social life would come into question eventually. It’s not like you don’t have friends, you have a great network of people you love to spend time with. You just happen to spend that time doing things other than blacking out and vomiting on a basketball player’s shoes in a sweaty basement.

“Is that a requirement of the job?” you counter.

“Being the sweetheart is more than just a job. Like, yeah, you’ll have responsibilities, but you’ll also be a member of the frat. We strongly encourage all the guys to attend the parties. It’s the whole brotherhood part of it. You wouldn’t have to go to all of them if you don’t want to, but making an appearance at least a couple times a month would be best.”

You suppose a couple of parties a month wouldn’t hurt. You have been meaning to get out more anyway.

“I think I can manage that,” you smile.

“Perfect! Do you have any questions?” You shake your head. “Then I think we have just found the newest member of SAE.”

He grins cheerfully and extends his hand for you to shake. His grasp is firm and warm, and it lingers a touch too long. Before he could say anything else, two men walk through the front door.

You turn around and find Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, the President and Treasurer. You recognize them from the sports articles you’ve read in the paper. Print certainly doesn’t do the pair justice, because you had no idea that guys this attractive even went to your college.

“Buck, Steve, I want you to meet our sweetheart!” he says.

You can’t help but feel a bit shy in front of them, but you smile and introduce yourself as normally as possible. Steve gives you a charming, classic Hollywood smile and you almost swoon. Bucky is just as handsome but in a rougher way that screams trouble.

They’re both sweaty and flushed, fresh from practice. They’re holding lacrosse sticks and wearing matching team backpacks like you’ve seen all the student-athletes have. Steve is in a red Stark University tee and Bucky is in a black crewneck sweatshirt with the same logo.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Steve says. “I know being a sweetheart has a certain reputation, but I promise you that nothing like that is expected of you.” You’re not exactly sure what he’s referring to, but you could take a pretty good guess. One woman in a house full of frat guys… It doesn’t take a genius.

“That’s reassuring, thank you,” you smile. It feels weird to be thanking him for not wanting to sleep with you, but you weren’t sure what else to say.

“Are you free tomorrow at 4? We have a chapter meeting and I’d love for you to meet the guys,” Steve asks.

“Yes, I’m free,” you say. “Are meetings every Sunday?”

“More or less. It really depends on how hungover everyone is,” he jokes. That smile is blinding. “But none of the teams have practice that late on Sundays and everyone is usually free, so that’s when we try to do them. We’d really like it if you came to as many events as possible to take pictures and stuff, but also because you’re a member too.”

“Sounds good to me,” you say.

Bucky is still standing next to Steve but lets him do all of the talking. He seems more focused on trailing his eyes over every inch of your body. You dare a glance, and the smirk that forms on his lips when your eyes meet is nothing short of devilish.

“We don’t wanna take up any more of your time, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than let Steve talk your ear off” Bucky chimes in, nudging his friend with his elbow.

“I do have some work I need to catch up on,” you say, then immediately regret it. Why did you have to pick the lamest thing to say? Bucky and Joaquin share a look, both with a small smirk on their lips.

“Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?” Steve asks.

“Take a load off, Steve. I can do it,” Bucky offers.

“Really, guys, you just came back from practice. I can walk her back,” Joaquin chimes in.

You look between the three of them, wide-eyed. You’ve never had this much attention from guys who looked this good before.

“It’s okay!” You speak up. “I can walk by myself, it’s not a problem.”

The three are unfazed by the rejection. “Okay, but you’re part of the family now. We’ve all got your back,” Steve says.

You nod in understanding and wish them a good evening before hurrying out the door, not wanting to make a bigger fool of yourself. You’re not sure how it turned from a professional interview, something you’ve done a thousand times, to you becoming a flustered mess.

As you walk down the sidewalk back to your building, you shake your head. This is just another club you’ve joined. It can’t be different than running the newspaper or the painting club. And those guys were just being friendly, there’s no reason to look into it any deeper than that.

[etherealsworldvision]

What is a step you can take toward your own well-being?

Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about: Marine Conservation Institute. They’re a non-profit organization working to defend our ocean by advocating for stronger protection and to save the ocean for all of us and future generations. If you’re interested do check them out and if you’d like to further support this organization click donate.

New song discovery for the reading: Elijah Waters - Perfectly Silent

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

🚨 P.S.A 🚨 : I do not give personal readings!

Added Description: all my readings are timeless and meant to reach those who resonate to the messages.

[ Collective Messages: 234 (or 2:34? I’m not religious but for some reason I got this?); Leaving the past behind; Elevating; Patience; Timing; Learning to walk again; Stumbling; Material abundance; Getting news about material/job offers; Your confirmation is Yes; Positive changes; Water wheel finally turning; Think before speaking; Rainbows and Sunshine. Mars Placements.]

Pile 1

“My head is like a washing machine. Tried to wash away these thoughts, still can’t get clean.”

Cards: 9 of Wands Reversed; Emperor; 10 of Cups Reversed; Empress Reversed; 2 of Hearts; Queen of Clubs; Six of Clubs

[ Messages: Stubborn; Self-Sabotage; Fear of Change; Overthinking; Stagnation; “Just Do It”; Red Sox; Baseball; Taking initiative; Ares; Aries placement; Coffee; Accepting your heart; Janine Teagues; “Things will go wrong whether you’re doing what you want or not. For me, regrets are always harder to live with than consequences. I don’t regret […] living my life to the fullest […] it’ll be alright, trust me.”– Mr. Johnson ( Abbott elementary S3EP14 timestamp 16:10 - 17:08). ]

The first thing standing out to me is your emotional and mental health. You may be experiencing a time where you’re unable to take care of yourself. This isn’t to shame you, I just want to acknowledge that you’re already doing enough. If no one said this to you today; I am so proud of you. Another thing I do want to say is: please reach out to your support system or check in with yourself. Honestly you don’t need to prove anything to be deserving of love and happiness. It’s okay to want and need something that emotionally fulfills you.

I feel like this pile is very independent and an over-thinker which can cause burnout, as well as aiding in self-sabotaging tendencies. For some reason I feel like you may “psych yourself out of it,” meaning you’re so excited about something only to get worried before having a chance. I know it’s a hard pill to swallow but it needs to be said. Self-sabotaging and overthinking is what’s holding you back. You may be experiencing Imposter Syndrome and Control issues as a result.

With the emperor, empress, and queen of clubs here — you are very much qualified to go after what you want. It does look like you're someone who knows what to do, is aware of the things you need, and what you want. I don’t know if it is a job or related to your social life, however, there’s this feeling of being overqualified for something or feeling deserving of more/better.

There is also a confirmation here that things will get better and you will get what you want. However, it is you who decides to go after it. I do recommend looking up books about self-sabotaging or YouTube videos about this topic. If you are in therapy, maybe this is a subject you’d like to bring up?

A good question to ask yourself is: What have I always accepted as true that turned out to be false?

So that’s all I’m getting. I know this reading is short and straightforward. I would like to say thank you for taking your time reading this and I hope this reading resonates with you.

Pile 2

[ Cards: King of Swords; The Devil Reversed; Page of Wands; Queen of Cups; King of Spades; 3 of Hearts; Jack of Diamonds; 5 of Hearts ]

Messages: Retreating; Refuting; Verbally Vindictive; 3H Mars; Leo or Cancer Mars; Fire and Water Placements; Trauma Dumping; Changes in Communication; Online Regina George Trope; Air Signs (Specifically Suns); Birthdays; Online Personality; Healing; Dictator - Rei Ami; YouTube commentary or essays about online ( trends )

I feel a bit overwhelmed when reading this pile. As if I have to be someone I’m not? I feel that social media is really coming in, especially TikTok/Twitter discourses. There’s this sense of having to upkeep and over consume to be considered a: ✨main character✨ otherwise “you’re just not cool and an utterly boring, basic loser, yuck 🤢 🤮, You’re not even a side character yikes.” /J (I am using sarcasm and joking).

For some of you I get the feeling that this could be stemming from social media addiction, others it may be, that you are embodying the online personality. Over all this just feels like a huge weight on your shoulders or a ball and chain on your leg. In an odd way; maybe your phone or whatever you use is home to you? It’s where you can express yourself via feelings, personality, opinions, etc. This is in no way to shame you at all. I also use social media and so does the next person, right?

There’s this need to give yourself a balance again. To double check with yourself on how you’re feeling after using social media. I feel most of you are ready to gain control of your media consumption or at least contemplate the effects it has on you. Taking a step back from social media — maybe trying out a hobby or just reconnecting to something that makes you feel like you may help.

Also if you want YouTube recommendations on over consuming let me know, I can send you the links. The number one takeaway is that it’s okay to be yourself. You being you is main character energy. No amount of products, social media influenced personality, or aesthetics can take that away from you. You are enough, I promise you that. It’s okay to want to change but if you’re feeling influenced by something that isn’t true to you then you might want to ponder on that and ask if that is really what you resonate with.

A good question to ask yourself is: What is one small step I can take today towards a goal that feels out of reach?

That’s all I’m getting for you pile 2! If you stuck around this far I’d like to say thank you so much. I greatly appreciate it and hope you resonate with this reading.

Pile 3

[ Cards: 4 of Cups, Ace of Pentacles Reversed; Five of Pentacles Reversed; Queen of Cups; 9 of Diamonds; 6 of Diamonds; Queen of Diamonds; Ace of Hearts ]

Messages; Open mind and heart; Chihiro by Billie Eilish; Money Growth; Finances; Earth and Water placements; Fear of Missing Out; Take out; Diners; Over consumption; Capitalism; Low Income; 111; Unemployment

( Tw: financial experience and control issues. Disclaimer: for some reason I feel called to talk about my financial experience and how I dealt with this. Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for in my experience? )

So I had been unemployed for two years then found a job for 3 months then unemployed again for a year. When I tell you, I searched for a job everywhere, I mean everywhere! I applied everywhere and every time. I even tried to save what I could and budget with what I had (I live with my family and occasionally would get money. I understand/am aware of the privilege and support I have. I’m also very grateful and appreciate them)

I yelled at the universe, cried, and had sleepless nights. However, what helped me (besides living with my family) through this tough time is to focus on things I can control while applying for jobs. That’s what honestly made me stay afloat. So maybe this is what can help you during this trying time?

Finding a (free) third place meaning: the park, public library, or just a walk may help ease a bit of tension. Sometimes journaling or confiding with someone will help as well. Doing something that helps you remain in the present and eases the anxiousness could help. I know this may not be what you were looking for and I wish I can give you financial advice but that is not my forte.

There is only so much control we have when it comes to finances and it is certainly not a lesson from the universe or it’s not happening to you or happening for you. I don't care what they say, it is not a lesson! It is just an unfortunate situation to be in, it just is. Like yes you can learn from it but it is not something (pre)destined or “contract” written. It just happens and we live in late stage capitalism. That’s me being real with you.

So yeah, I’m sorry for the little tangent. What I am getting is to fill your emotional cup for the meantime. Yes, do what you need to do with your finances; finding a job or to save/budget money whatever you can do to the best of your abilities.

You just have to remember to do things that are within your control and to not neglect your emotional/mental health. If singing, drawing, talking, or simple things like cloud watching helps you stay present and makes you feel in control then by all means do that.

I’m not saying to use escapism but I am saying to do your best to emotionally check in with yourself from time to time. Also if you have a support system do talk with them or be around them. A good question to ask yourself is: “Who do I feel most myself around? Why?”

This is all that I’m getting for the reading. I hope this reading resonates. Again, I am so sorry if I made things worse or didn’t help! Please remember to check in with yourself — take care :)

[mirrorball-leclerc]

paint the town red - part one

THE BEGINNING OF A NEW ERA

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biancastark_potts 'all the rumors are true'

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username bestie which driver will you be the race engineer for?

username is sebastian coming back? tell me that rumor is true

tonystark you're supposed to be working!

↳ biancastark_potts i am working. ask anyone. except harley, he'll lie to you.

↳ harleykeener she's being no help! spanish was not one of my public school requirements. i don't think i am qualified for this job.

↳ peterbparker I CAN SPEAK SPANISH! LET ME BE SAINZ'S RACE ENGINEER!

↳ harleykeener YOU FOCUS ON YOUR PHYSICS! LET ME HAVE THIS PARKER!

↳ biancastark_potts dad literally made you social media admin for the offical ferrari account. a mistake on his part truly.

↳ tonystark i regret everything now.

username so, stark will be race engineer for leclerc and keener for sainz?

↳ username an iconic group truly and i know nothing about this keener kid

↳ harleykeener i got a stark internship because i made a potato gun for tony one time when i was a child.

liked by biancastark_potts, harleykeener, and peterbparker and other

scuderiaferrari meet ferrari's newest race engineers. bianca stark-potts (24) (left) will become charles leclerc's new race engineer, replacing xavier marcos. while harley keener (20) (right) will become carlos sainz' new race engineer, replacing riccardo adami. these two will also be taking on the roles of lead engineers for our cars and they know they can deliver a championship winning car. these two are excited to be taking on the world of formula one.

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📍peterbparker this was all proofread by mrs. pepper stark-potts. i would've gone with something like 'out with the old in with the new.' but apparently that's not professional or something.

username ferrari is about to become the most attractive team on the grid. i take no complaints.

↳ username no you're absolutely right.

username what exactly are their qualifications to becoming an f1 driver's race engineer?

↳ username bianca is an MIT and columbia graduate, she has a phd in mechanical engineering and a masters in electrical engineering. harley is a columbia graduate with a masters in mechanical engineering and studying at MIT for a masters in computer science and engineering. if anything they're overqualified for the job. they've also developed few of the suits tony stark's uses. definitely more qualified than ricciardo and xavier.

↳ username that doesn't matter, we'll finally have a decent car and might even win the drivers/constructors championships.

charles_leclerc welcome to the team!

↳ biancastark_potts thanks, happy to be here!

↳ harleykeener thank you, even if i'm not your race engineer.

carlossainz55 bienvenidos!

↳ harleykeener gracias, mi amigo. (i don't speak spanish that well. we'll both be struggling through this, as you saw last week.)

↳ biancastark_potts good luck with him. thanks for the welcome!

liked by biancastark_potts, charles_leclerc, and peterbparker and other

scuderiaferrari you knew him as 4x world champion of red bull, you knew him as a ferrari driver, now you'll know him as ferrari's new team principal. ladies, gentleman, and non-binary folks, the formidable sebastian vettel is back!

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📍peterbparker not added was 'sorry not sorry we took your golden boy red bull' again, mrs. pepper potts-stark said that was unprofessional so i was forbidden from adding that. the urge to add a multi-21 joke in there was strong but i resisted.

↳ maxverstappen1 no need to rub it in. christian is crying. (i’m joking, he’s upset)

↳ peterbparker TU-TU-DU-DU MAX VERSTAPPEN!! (get me oscar piastri's number)

↳ maxverstappen1 no.

↳ peterbparker i'll settle for lando norris if you want. don't worry i'm not after either of your men (charles and danny)

↳ maxverstappen can i get you fired?

↳ biancastark_potts i've been trying since 2018 when he walked into my life. all i achieved was my parents emotionally adopting him.

username i fucking love this new ferrari admin. they're unhinged.

↳ peterbparker thanks, pepper does not find it as amusing. i've been told to keep it 'professional' until the season begins then i'm allowed to be unhinged.

username HE'S BACK! I KNEW RETIREMENT WOULDN'T LAST LONG.

username please tell me he is still caring for his bees. seb and his bees is iconic

↳ peterbparker proud to announce that seb and his bees will continue. we will be bringing awareness to the bees with every race. seb's buzzin' corner for every race? MR. STARK MAKE IT HAPPEN!

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and tonystark and other

scuderiaferrari mood cause we're back! preseason testing begins in two days!

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📍peterbparker i'm allowed to shit post now people! the ban has been lifted! WAR IS OVER!

↳ peterbparker I'VE BEEN FOUND BY PIERRE GASLY. NOOO! HOW COULD I HAVE BECOME A VICTIM SO SOON?

username admin is acting like a teenager

↳ peterbparker i'm 20.

↳ maxverstappen1 that explains it.

↳ peterbparker so about piastri's number...

↳ maxverstappen1 no.

↳ harleykeener you have a girlfriend parker.

↳ peterbparker she doesn't need to know

↳ michellejones this is a public instagram post

username let's hope stark industries can deliver with all the hype surrounding them taking over ferrari's f1 team.

↳ username i just hope they aren't being overhyped, because if they fail to deliver they'll be such a dissapointment.

¡leclerc-s speaks! you can blame charles' shitty race for this story. other than that we won't speak further on the events of the us grand prix (i'm living in delusion) (congrats to logan for scoring his first points and congrats to williams for their double points!) i had been wanting to do a mcu x formula one crossover but i didn't have the motivation to do so until now (you can guess why).

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[springsylph]

bodyguard.

[bodyguard!john price x rookie actress!reader]

extension of this blurb. || minors, do not interact.

read on ao3

this was supposed to be a one-off thing but uh. my hand slipped? had to cut down the "price wouldn't do that" monster with my "i can do what i want" sword, and we got 3k of an unedited brain dump that i typed on my phone at six in the morning. also my first time writing something for price! woo!

He pulls out the crown on his watch, begins to twist and twist so that the dials can begin their inevitable rotation. “You know what time it is?"

Yelling secures you your first big project.

You can’t pay those bills until I land a job. A real job.

You’re almost certain your agent thinks you’re throwing a tantrum, and it leaves a coarse grit in your molars. You don’t like to pick fights. Hate it, really. But pushes are usually succeeded by shoves, and you can’t afford to get knocked out of the ring this time around.

The worst they can do is say no, right?

Thankfully, one yes is all you need to beg for. Your chariot arrives in the shape of a surprisingly low-budget rom-com, in simple terms. You and your C-list costar (flanked by a squeaky clean track record, thank god) are swept up in a soundless spiral of table reads and filming and wrapping before you can really, truly process.

But a warden stands guard at the eye of your perfect storm. John Price, assigned to you through your agency without so much as a proper word.

(“Squeaky clean,” apparently, didn’t take a history of overzealous stalkers into account.)

The peephole to your dilapidated apartment can barely contain him. blocks him—or attempts to do so—like a child might shield their sandcastle from the pulsing tide. Only, you think the tide might be more forgiving. He’s rooted in place, made harsher under the cracked fluorescent bulbs out in the hallway. They hum along with him. Faint, unless your breathing stills.

You’d feel a little more at ease if he were actually ex-military; the scraps of information you’ve been fed tell you that he’s been discharged, but you don’t believe it. Not for a second. You hadn’t been given much else apart from that and a face, but you could put together that he was disgustingly overqualified—not that you were complaining, though. Not yet.

You watch as John Price—Price?—gazes with a deceiving sort of apathy toward the end of the hall, then to the other, and back to the other end in three smooth seconds.

You think he’s seeing things till the apartment two doors down produces a tenant from its depths and price is turning, warding the disturbance off with an easy mornin’ and a wave of a large hand. He says nothing when they shuffle off awkwardly without a response, and the slow crawl of his opposite hand away from a flash of metal at his hip draws your pupil like a magnet.

It’s then that you note the suspiciously white shirt—rolled up to his elbows, tucked neatly into dark denim. hands tucked into pockets. Beard trimmed. Everything not protected by the skin on his body squared away just so, with just enough of his bulk on display to prompt that second spike of wariness.

A meticulous problem, then.

You peel yourself away from the door after an inhale and swing it open regardless.

The smell of tobacco and cologne hits your nose like a hammer the moment the door hits the bolt behind you, but you recover the feeling in your knees quickly. The fisheye lens doesn’t quite do him justice—you have to look up a bit to take another quick scan, cheeks cramping with the sudden momentum of your smile.

“I don’t see a bible or a pamphlet, so I’m assuming you’re not here to preach?” 

The joke doesn’t fall flat, but it does sail into one of the weaker bulbs before it shuts off with a buzz.

“…Captain Price, right?”

His eyes crinkle with a hint of what might be a grin. Under different circumstances, maybe. “Right on the mark. A pleasure to finally meet you, Ma’am.” But that thrum of irritation is there, as is the narrowing of his eyes when you extend your hand in greeting. “Just Price’ll do though.”

Hm.

He reaches up to fix his beanie just above his brow before giving your hand a firm shake. Definitely military. And hot as a furnace. You’re more than a little dizzy when he pulls back to check his watch, the inside of your wrist now raw from the grazing of a fingernail.

You can feel the skin he’s taken with him when he looks you in the eyes. Assessing. You don’t know why, but think you’ve won until he’s looking back down at his wrist.

He pulls out the crown on his watch, begins to twist and twist so that the dials can begin their inevitable rotation. “You know what time it is?”

Nine in the morning.

Or, at least it was thirty minutes ago.

“I—yeah. Lost track of time, sorry.” You scratch just under the collar of your shirt, straighten it out when the itch turns into a tingle you’re willing to overlook. You realize after an embarrassing beat that he’s probably asking for the actual time. “I sleep like a rock,” you add anyway. Your agency had actually given you three things, not two: a poorly put together profile, a face, and a meeting time.

It dawns on you now that a thirty minute “test of patience” with your back pressed to the door may not have been the way to go.

Price looks up, finally. Rolls his shoulders back as if to shed the pileup of gravity that’s compressed his spine in the half hour you’ve kept him waiting—and somehow, someway, seems to double the amount of space he takes up.

“That so,” he questions. Low in his throat, and a tad exasperated, because you’ve studied exasperation. Went into debt to have that understanding feel like a second skin. Which is why you observe, perplexed, as he gestures to the entryway. You think you feel your head nod, and he brushes past you to push through the door. “‘Nother habit we’ll have to kick.”

Any objections you might’ve had are killed in your throat the moment his prowl begins, and your socks catch on the scuffed linoleum as you flounder in after him.

The door slams back against the bolt while Price’s boots press the air out of your hardwood floors, squeals escaping with each heavy step. You squeak out a feeble excuse me alongside them once or twice, but to no avail. He can’t hear you, too intent on following some internal rhythm that takes him to the open window, the dusty cabinets, slipping fingers into the creases of a space you’re barely acquainted with yourself.

Something like nausea begins to bubble. You planned this. You’d planned out your introduction. Picked out your clothes, your shoes, where you’d grab coffee so you could build up your integrity and explain to him that you’re not looking to be coddled, he’d just get in the way. And now you’re wringing your hands, abject unease burning in a dense knot between your eyes while you figure out how to melt into the poorly hidden pile of dirty laundry.

There’s a delay in your processing, and you don’t start to catch up until Price finally slows down enough for you to realize he’s been talking.

He’s stooping over your dining room table, swiping a finger over his tongue before using it to card through old mail. “Real sorry ‘bout this, Ma’am. Not the most ideal introduction, I know, but we’re on a bit of a time crunch. Standard protocol—’m sure you know how it is, yeah?”

Price moves to turn over a stack of magazines on your dining table, and you wonder: were you supposed to know? You’re sure his question is rhetorical, and you’re certainly not inclined to answer. But something about the way it hits the water stains on your ceiling justifies the way he turns to look at you over his shoulder.

Concern. An uncut gem, plucked from some cavernous fissure that might be closer in proximity to hell than your own flesh and blood.

The crease between his brows deepens. “You have had security before, haven’t you?”

“Don’t get out much. I do my work, come right home.” You shrug, but your shoulders can’t seem to come back down. Perhaps this was why they’d put him on leave—he couldn’t do math.

You shuffle a bit in place, kick aside a ratty tennis ball left behind from one of your pet sitting stints. It hits your refrigerator and he’s still looking down at your feet, so you look with him.

—at the last two toes sticking out of your sock.

You rush to cover it with your other foot while Price sucks his teeth. He doesn’t move, hands still planted on the table, but each time he blinks his eyes are trained on something different.

Price lets out a sigh before he finally stands upright, perching his hands on his hips. “I'm surprised your people waited this long to call someone in. Right idiots they are, I’ll tell you that.”

Your people. You wrap your arms around your middle, pinch the fabric of your shirt between your fingers.

“I can't really blame them,” you say after a moment. Tip your chin up, a last ditch attempt at salvaging what little of your farce is left to cover yourself with.

Price tuts, strangely unconvinced for someone you’d only known for around ten minutes. “You’d be smart to blame them.”

“Don’t think I can do that when I'm working for them, Price.”

“Can’t you? S’clear they’ve done fuck all to look out for you.”

And you could. Should. Want to. So, so desperately need to. But you’re already saddled with enough things to hate. Hope of catharsis is an outbound ship, a blip on the horizon that you don’t have the funds to board. 

“…I don't follow.”

Price doesn’t flinch when the table rocks without the weight of the magazines to keep it steady, and neither do you.

“You don’t follow,” he repeats. Like a crucial detail has been lost in translation.

You shake your head.

“Well, that’s no good.”

Cigar smoke snakes its way into your headspace again when he strides past you to put his hand up against the door, muscles in his forearms flexing when he pulls at the doorknob. He beckons you closer, and you’re pulled out of orbit when you skirt close enough for him to reach, guiding your hand to the cool metal while he stands just behind you.

“Here,” he mutters. Your chest is a cushion, and the rumble in his chest is a bright red pin.

(Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if the crackle of a walkie-talkie might bury how frighteningly human he sounds.)

“What am I looking for?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

He takes his hand off once you’ve stopped throwing glances at him, and your knuckles sizzle in his absence. What was he looking for? Nothing…looks different. 

You can’t focus. His eyes are on your neck, and you can’t focus.

And suddenly, you don’t like how close he is. You’re reminded of how he’d shoved his way into your apartment. Barely spoken to you before driving a stake through the bubble put together with your blood sweat and tears. Made you feel ashamed in your own home.

Righteous indignation flares up, and you’re spewing words you’re certain you believe in until they tumble out.

“If you’re just here to poke fun, I’m not—”

Pop.

You look down. The keyhole pokes just out of the doorknob and you look to Price, his face remarkably passive.

“Lock’s been tampered with.” He runs a thumb over the offending protrusion, watches as it slots back into place. “You should see some scratches on the other side of it. Thought I noticed something when the door first slammed, but I didn't want to startle you in case my eyes were playing tricks. Can’t quite see like I used to.”

Why not get glasses?

“I would’ve put up less of a fuss if you’d told me up front.”

He looks at you, eyes a perfect congruence of something just beyond what your fingertips can touch. But he smiles, and you think you can understand. Maybe mash the pieces together. A distending warmth. Nepenthe sinking into every orifice until you’re expelling your woes through your nostrils.

Your axis tilts when Price puts a solid hand on your shoulder.

“It’s not good to lie, mm? Not to me.”

Not good to lie.

When you slide out from under his palm, his callouses snag on the exposed seam of your shirt. You toss him a grin, a bone. “Noted.”

Insecure seconds pass, but not without movement. 

It begins like this: Price walks away from the door, and you’re almost grateful for the squealing underneath his feet to fill the silence. He takes your stack of mail and magazines, sets them exactly as they had been before he’d entered. The table is righted, and he works in reverse from that point on.

Closing cabinet doors. Angling that picture frame you’ve been meaning to adjust for weeks. He’s putting things into their proper place, like setting bones before they’re enclosed in a stiff cast. 

You, though, are still standing awkwardly by the door.

“You really don’t need to—”

He holds out a hand. “Relax. ‘M just having a second go around.”

You bristle, but your decision to pad over to the couch is of your own volition. It caves in when you sit, and you wiggle to get the cushions to realign with your hips. Your hands feel around blindly for the remote to your TV before remembering you’d dropped it out of the window in a fit of anger some weeks ago, so you sit back, spine hitting the hard frame of the couch. Price’s noises pair well, somehow, with the wind sliding over the glass and the neighbors downstairs.

Until you feel his presence at the back of the couch, and a thought smacks you right across your forehead.

You shoot up, heart rate suddenly inflamed by panic. “Price?”

The movement stops, and you turn around, peer over to find Price prepped to duck his head under the couch. “Hm?”

“Uh.” You hesitate. Shit, think—

“H-how much are they paying you, anyways?” Good save. Maybe a little less than good.

You feel a little bad that you’d stopped Price mid-crouch; you can’t quite remember how old he is, but you know he’s old enough for knee pain to be a concern. He looks up as if crunching the numbers in his head. Hums. “Enough.”

“What’re you looking for?”

“Saw the picked lock, didn’t you?”

“Were you really discharged?”

“Depends. There something under this couch you don’t want me seeing?”

Looks like you can knock “interrogation skills” off of your list of special skills on your resume.

Your jaw snapping shut is enough to send his arm sliding under, and you can only watch in horror as his clutched hand emerges holding a scrap of thin blue fabric. He pushes himself up off of his knees. Takes his sweet time wringing out his back while your eyes track his hand like he’s got a thumb over the button of a detonator.

If he had any shred of decency—

“Another thing I caught on my way in,” he huffs. He holds out his hand and allows the blue fabric to uncurl. A flag, hung full mast right between your eyes. Another one of his tests. 

“Price.”

“C’mon, now. Take it from me.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice; your arm shoots out and you win it back in one go. Stuff your lacy underwear into the pocket of your pants and wait for your ceiling to collapse in on you.

“Can’t leave pretty things like that layin’ around.” And Price stops, watches as you curl in on yourself. Voice like the push of velvet shifting underneath your palms. “Likely to rip if you’re not careful.”

You pull your head into your shirt and curl your knees into your chest. It’s a shock when you find yourself face to face with your heartbeat, the skin over your left breast jumping underneath your nose. “I think we’re done here.” 

Price makes that sucking noise again with his teeth—agitation, you think it’s agitation—and you trace the hazy shadow of him through your shirt as he steps around the couch to walk to the window. He snaps twice, and you’re beginning to entertain the thought of what might happen if you had enough strength to push him out.

“What now,” you croak.

“Eyes up.”

Slowly, you muster up enough spite to bring your head just above the collar of your shirt. Military men and their incessant need for…whatever the hell this was. 

“You’ve gotten better at this. Quick study,” Price remarks.

“Better at what.”

“Listening. That’s good, real good. That’ll make this a whole lot easier,” he says, a note of appreciation that you haven’t heard yet stirring that tiny pool of filth just underneath your navel. You hum.

Price crosses his arms. Flicks his stupid eyes toward the fluttering curtains. “How often d’you leave this open?”

Your face pinches. “I mean—pretty often? It’s hot, Price. And in case you haven’t noticed,” you wave your hand to the general state of disrepair, “I don’t exactly have good circulation in here.”

This gives him pause. Whatever plan he’s recalibrating, you want no part of it. You do notice that he hasn’t put his hands in his pockets since he showed up on your doorstep, instead favoring the use of his left hand to rub his chin. 

“Come over here and close the window.”

You nearly jump out of your skin. “...Close the window? Price, you can’t be serious.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Can’t…can’t you close it?”

“It’s not my window. Can’t do everythin’ for you.”

He stares at you expectantly. Your tailbone is beginning to throb, and for some damning reason, that note still ringing bright in the back of your skull. That’s good. Good, good, good.

Price catches that eager glint the moment it surfaces.

“Go on then, love.” He tips his head. “Close it.”

The rest of you surfaces slowly. You look back for a moment at the indent left on the couch, think about how long that imprint will be there until you feel inclined to fluff out those cushions again.

(Later. You’ll get to it later.)

Shutting the window doesn’t take much effort, but the swampy temperature is noticeable. You turn around a little too quickly, so you hold an arm out to the now sealed vault in an exaggerated show of bravado. I did it, see?

Price slides past you to look outside. He purses his lips when he finds what he’s looking for, and you can almost see the note being stashed into some faraway file.

He turns to you. “Keep this window closed till further notice,” and a hand reaches out to tug the curtains shut, and yellow from the lamp you’d left on last night washes over the room instantly.

“Price.”

“I take my work seriously. You take yours seriously, you’ll need me.”

It feels like a slap in the face. “I do, but that doesn’t mean—”

“My job,” and he points to himself, then to you, “is to keep you out of harm's way. Can’t do this if you don’t trust me.”

“You’re asking a lot for someone who hasn’t—”

You go silent as he reaches a hand into a back pocket, pulls out his hand and you count one, two, three square devices around the size of a nail.

“Busted lock, three faulty cameras, all outside. You’re lucky these people are idiots.” He shoves them back into his pocket before returning his focus to you. “You need me.”

You blink. 

Price smiles, raises his eyebrows as if the conversation is already over. “Hungry?”

You stumble back. “But what about—what about the apartment?”

“S’fine,” he says. He checks his watch. “I know a couple guys, you’re in good hands.”

[cherrybean]

hey everyone, i wanted to come on here and explain why i have been MIA constantly, this is a really vulnerable post and i don’t expect many people to read it, if you don’t that’s okay. i will add a trigger warning for people because this talks about abusive parents/male figures and emotional/verbal abuse

TW: narcissistic parents/emotionally abusive parents/abusive fathers and talk of suic*de

i haven’t really been on this blog as much as i used to be as i started writing about Lalo when i had recently graduated from university with my bachelors and was still watching BCS after BB. i have been trying to get a job during my gap year, but with the economic/political state of the US (where I’m from) getting a job in my state seems slim to none. i have applied to so many jobs where i am even overqualified and have gotten the generic “we have gone with someone else/you do not meet the qualifications” which don’t make sense to me, but i digress. this plus living at home with a narcissistic verbally/emotionally abusive father has done numbers on my mental health.

i feel really useless upon a slue of other things. my mother recently had knee surgery and my sister and i have been the sole caretakers for her and it seems like more and more my dad is losing his mind and putting his stress and emotional abuse onto me while my mom is bedridden. this plus the crippling financial issues he has from gambling and buying useless shit + his retirement not being enough with food prices and bills going up. i have honestly sadly considered just taking my own life or running away and even joining the military to just have an actual job and being able to leave. honestly the emotional and verbal abuse from the military sounds better than being here in this hell hole.

i have also recently come to the conclusion that even though i hate my older sister for who she is/how she abused me as a kid all throughout my adolescence, i can see she was just doing everything my dad was doing to her and she herself was dealing with this abuse from him as young as 10.

i apologize that this rant is a bit all over the place i just wanted to somewhat vent and explain my situation. I honestly don’t know what to do and feel like i might take a break from my page for a few weeks. i think i will randomly pop in here and there. i currently do have a Logan fluff/smut ready to go i just haven’t finished it as i haven’t had time and feel emotionally and physically exhausted all the time.

if you managed to read everything i want to say thank you! thank you so much for allowing me the space to write all my dirty minded thoughts 😭💗 i love you all!

[esperanzacboronial]

Being on the interviewee side of an interview sucks, but I am discovering that being on the interviewer side of an interview also sucks. I’ve been put in charge of hiring for a junior level position and literally 50% of people I invite to video interview have just not shown up. A huge chunk of the people who applied are clearly scattergunning applications because they’re either ridiculously overqualified or don’t even live in the U.K. (this is a part-time junior level role, not something any sane person would relocate for). Most of the people who show up to the interviews don’t even know which job or company they’re interviewing for. The worst part of this is that I’m actively applying for and interviewing for new jobs myself and I have no idea how I keep getting rejected if this is the standard

[verdemoun]

I just realized that I haven’t asked for any content of one of my favorite women in camp and no one else has so I’m curious how Miss Grimshaw’s timewarp was? Going from bleeding out as Dutch started pointing a gun at the son that was just as much hers as he was Dutch or Hosea’s and then waking up to whoever found her in present time :>

SUSAN GRIMSHAW MY BELOVED

The gang did not have a fully mapped out version of events that occured between Hosea's death to Arthur's death so when they got Arthur (they were very confident about his death because it was written about in papers) they had to almost speed through the reunion to be like what happened did anyone else die do we need to be going for anyone else which is how they learned about Susan and Molly's deaths.

Internet sleuth Lenny quickly found the location because the discovery of a female body circa 1900 was reported on when the site of her grave was disturbed during the construction of a holiday home overlooking Elysian Pool.

Grimshaw understood she was dead, and had died. She woke up rather peacefully, very much gently waking up instead of jolting awake like most shooting deaths, on the balcony of a thankfully vacant holiday house overlooking Roanoke Ridge. It was idyllic enough for her to think she was in heaven, so she broke into the house, made herself a coffee and was comfortably sitting on a lounge chair when the gang showed up. Took timewarping like the boss she is. Does think cleaning appliances are the best invention of modern era she heard the term dishwasher and did not blink until she learned to use it.

Because the Matthews group were not prepared to pick up Susan as well they had no plans for where she could stay. Annabelle, delighted another og van der linde from the early days was back, offered up her own apartment which Susan was very grateful for.

Dutch should also be very grateful that he didn't die until 12 years later because Susan Grimshaw was absolutely ready to take him out on sight after the shit that happened just before her death.

Arthur is her boy 110% I adore their relationship and she absolutely gets promoted to Nana Grimshaw in Isaac's eyes because my boy recognizes found family faster than the actual gang do. As one of the few who knew about Isaac she is very soft on the boy but also her usual stern bad cop threatening to beat him self when he is causing trouble.

Much to her relief, many of the gang members learn to be independent in a way that they weren't in 1899 and Bessie has also taken on a lot of that maternal having to literally remind them to wash up and not be slobs role so she can be her own person. Which Susan Grimshaw is excited about! She adores the gang but it's like a parent being on their own for the first time after their last child goes to college, she is getting to rediscover herself outside of that role.

Also having a big old queer awakening after enjoying kissing Annabelle a little too much after several bottles of wine. Talk about rarepair where's my Annabelle x Grimshaw base. Every single woman who ever dated Dutch van der Linde had a queer awakening afterwards and never dated men again.

Being used to having a job and not knowing how to relax she is one of the first to get a modern era job. She shouldered her way into working at an old fashioned bar and working her way up to manager in record time because let's be honest taking care of the gang was 90% cleaning and shepherding drunks she's overqualified to be the hot scary aged barkeeper.

She actually loves the work and has never been intimidated by a patron because oh boohoo you've killed a man? me too bitch. you threaten to wait outside for me to leave after closing? see what fucking happens. one of the few who went through getting a weapons license and is always strapped.

step aside old man yaoi it is old woman yuri time and grimshaw owns it

[sciencetylia]

Hi! I don't know if this is helpful or applicable to chemistry, but is there any adjacent jobs that you could apply to where your studies would be considered a great plus and that would get you a foot in the door (usually something that you would be overqualified for, which is a bit sad)? I know it can be a pain, especially if you really want to do a specific job, but I've seen a few people manage to do that in my field since it allowed them to gain at least some experience first. It shouldn't have to come to that, but I suppose it is what it is, unfortunately :( I really wish this job search was kinder to you, and I hope you can find something eventually 💜

Unfortunately I don’t know what would be adjacent outside of maybe data entry or general research jobs, but I find even these require specialized education that I don’t have.

There is also science communication but I am not a hugely sociable person, and it’s hard to make money just doing it by blogging. I earn maybe $50-70 a month through my tumblr blogging and most of that comes from cdnpoli blogging, not my Science blog.

I’m open to suggestions but I really don’t know what else to try.

Even going viral on TikTok with science/chemistry videos isn’t an option as there is no creator fund for Canadians.

[chiveburger]

Hi Candice! I’ve been following you for ages now so it felt like in some way, we were navigating through life side by side but now I’ve gotten to my late twenties and….its not what I really expected. I hope this doesn’t make hard moments you’ve already gone through reopen and if it does I completely understand why you wouldn’t answer this but…how did you go about being unemployed for awhile? I’m starting to struggle mentally and I just need some sort of real guidance or words. My mom isn’t really making it easy either and I don’t expect it from her but it feels like she wants me to feel these negative emotions that are naturally connected to being jobless which kind of adds to my already pent up pressure I put on myself but yeah…Apart from that, I’m glad you still post and your vlogs are so cute. You’re like sunshine!

I'm very honored that you have followed me for so long, and feel open enough to ask me this question. I definitely look back at the time when I was unemployed, and actively avoiding the job market as something that was necessary to me as an individual. I'm sure you already know, but the novelty of not having a structure routine and not getting paid wears off quickly and it's very easy to delve into depression or negative emotions when times goes by. I stopped working for 2 years during covid, and when I started applying and looking again it was a very daunting hill to climb. I would feel dejected if I didn't get a job, but also conflicted when I did get an interview for something I felt overqualified for. I was stuck in this slump where I had things I wanted to do but not enough credentials. at the same time I wasn't putting enough time into my "hobbies" to really make it a career.

the first piece of advice I can give you, albeit tacky, is that you are absolutely not alone. the emotions you're feeling are justified, and it's not an easy place to be without a solid foundation of support both emotionally and financially. two little quotes that continues to help me through difficult periods of time is that "life is fluid" and "nothing you do is ever in vain." we're not always where we want to be, doing what we want to do, but things can change and things will get better. your life is not defined by the time that you're unemployed, and while it's hard to envision your future amidst darkness, the darkest hour is just before dawn. all the steps you're taking and decide to take will lead you to different opportunities and experiences, regardless of them being good or bad I implore you to reach out and try, no matter how scary because you'll never know what road it'll take you.

sometimes you are met with harsh words and critique about your choices but I look back on the ones that came from those who love me and wish better for me, and I thank them for not just consoling me but pulling me out of the hole I was stuck in. my best friend told me that she didn't want me to look back in regret, and to wait for an outcome I wasn't actively putting energy to. she told me to go home and write down what I wanted to do, curate a plan, and to do something everyday even if it was small. ultimately, it took a long time for me to open up to the idea of working again and I made a lot of excuses not to. I took up an offer for my current job close to 2 years ago without any expectations, and I've accomplished much more than I could've imagined. I know what path I want to take and how to get there, and I have a lot of people who believed in me, who praised me, who supported me to thank. In return, I can be the one to believe in you, to praise you, and to support you in your journey too.

I've been in the exact position that you're in and it's very hard, and there are many times where you'll feel very bad but please remember there will always be second chances, third chances, fourth chances. don't be afraid to apply to places outside of your comfort zone, and know that everytime you get rejected it's okay to feel defeated and unhappy. even the bad experiences will potentially lead you to the right people and the right place. so, don't give up because doors will always open for you, even the ones that are locked.

[oldsargasso]

You have had your hands full! Don’t worry I have ENDLESS fanon thoughts so I will do my best to keep your ask box company 😌

Yes the advantage of feeding ourselves is we get to pick the menu!! I am CERTAIN at this point that Garfield and Benz simply pulled this ship out of thin air and made up their own headcanons to fill in for their lack of screentime LMAO. And NO YOU HAVE NOT TOLD ME ABOUT THIS WIP!! HOOKUPS FOLLOWED BY BETRAYAL?? BY TONY’S TOTALLY NORMAL PA?? YES PLEASE. I am basically eagerly awaiting everything you write at this point. AND YES KENTA IS INVESTED! How can his new boyfriend keep his visa if the team’s funding gets cut? Tragic.

This is why Kim is the realest to me. He asked for none of this and just rolled with the punches when most ppl would have either kept their heads down or fucked off. Objectively The Best. (SHFKFKFJJD Try telling Kim that Tony is his new owner—see how that goes down 😆)

(You are so right as always. Kim deserves ppl kneeling at his feet.)

Double offenses against us specifically, I’ll never recover. I’LL NEVER FORGIVE THEM IF WE DON’T EVENTUALLY GET SOME SORT OF FOLLOW-THROUGH! But yes supportive bf Kenta, it’s absolutely canon, he was definitely lurking in the stands somewhere.

Winner is so iconic and I love him… (multiple timelines running in our heads to carry all of the five hundred ships this show has provided)

Please give me ALL of your thoughts about collars, I beg of you, I live for this. Kenta would ABSOLUTELY be wearing his on the regular—he needs that reassuring weight under his shirt (totally normal about it saying “Kim’s” or smth similar on the tag). Like he’s fine with being a dog as long as it means he’s a beloved pet who doesn’t get cast aside! And Winner is ABSOLUTELY the type to bitch about a collar. He prob tried to make fun of Kenta for being collared (gets almost stabbed for it), but also passive aggressively moans about “Where’s MY present?” and then bitches about the collar when he DOES get it. And I’m SCREAMING HE DESERVES TO BE MUZZLED he’d be so cute… And Dean would look SO pretty in his collar (when is he NOT pretty tho lbr). PLEASE feel free to go on about what they look like! Kim can carry the keys to the collars around his neck 😌

I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE FICS! The KentaDean one is basically written just for the two of us. “The system works” LMFAO RESTORATIVE JUSTICE IN ACTION? Dean thinks he’s being SUBTLE but he has the BIGGEST puppydog expression when he wants something, like he emotes SO much in comparison to Kenta and Kim.

“He’s not a narcissist he’s just oblivious” ahdjfjf OUR BELOVED DUMBASS LOSER… I love the way he was as Tony’s henchman, like “I’m gonna be SUCH a good evil henchman my parents told me I was basically overqualified for this job—you want bodyguards? I’ll GET you bodyguards. I let those guys escape but I TOTALLY foiled their little scooby-doo plot because I am the BEST henchman. I’m SOOO much better than Kenta you know like fuck that guy and his stupid handsome eyes-“ Again it’s like… he gives himself so much affirmation he doesn’t need it from others; it’s just attention he wants. He’s SO interesting! And I love the contrast of Kim’s response to Tony being “Absolutely NOT” while Winner’s is “Absolutely YES” they should fuck about it, for our enjoyment.

I’M PLACING MY BETS ON THE MV COMING OUT THIS FRIDAY (prob late evening for you?). I think they’ll save the more emotional ones for after the fanmeet next week (unless they’re only doing one MV drop a month in which case haha catch me lying deceased on the floor!) 

HOW COULD YOU BREAK MY POOR LITTLE HEART LIKE THIS?? DEAN HAVING SOMETHING WITH KIM (A FRESH START) ONLY TO END UP FEELING LIKE HE’S BEEN REPLACED… AGAIN… WHY DO WE KEEP PUTTING HIM IN SITUATIONSHIPS AND THEN MAKING HIM FEEL REJECTED. I’M HURTING 😭😭😭 I feel like having Kim’s attention would be so fulfilling? Rewarding? That the slight absence of it is like the sun going out. DEVASTATING (and DELICIOUS for me). But Pete just dropping Kenta off like Kim is running a doggy daycare is hilarious dkfjehshf I have this mental image of Pete carrying Kenta by the scruff of his neck?? And Dean is self-destructing while Kim is just. Unfazed about all of it! Dean wants him to be jealous, meanwhile Kim is like. “It’s physically impossible to be jealous of Winner. But if he hurt you, if he forced you, if you hated it, that’s a different conversation.” I just really need someone going to bat for Dean. There’s something to explore about the difference between possessiveness (what Dean wants or thinks he wants) and protectiveness (what Kim will actually provide).

I will send you five million more words about my ideas once you’ve had a chance to read the fic, since it expounds a lot on what I mentioned before and also just my feelings about our doggies. Also I’ve got like, various heat scenarios to talk about as well! 

honestly Garfield and Benz are throwing themselves into this ship with no reservations. I hope they get cast in another show together clearly they deserve to make out on camera like they want 😌

I'm honestly like. mad about that fic lmao I woke up in the middle of the night and wrote a whole bunch of it in my notes app and then when I woke up the next day I CLOSED THE NOTES WITHOUT SAVING. devastated. have to start from scratch. BUT now I'm like. it would probably work better from Kim's POV? but then I'd have to rewrite this which I really like lol :(

When Mr Tony had told Kenta to organise for Kim to be picked up from the airport and taken to the hotel, he definitely hadn't meant for Kenta to do the chauffeuring himself. But finding the loopholes in Tony's orders was how Kenta managed his life these days, so he was waiting in Arrivals in his usual black suit with a printed sign at 6pm the following Tuesday, surrounded by a group of men attired and be-signed much the same. Which was probably why Kim didn't give Kenta a second glance as he walked up. No big deal; Kenta’s used to being overlooked. “K’Kim?” he asks in polite confirmation, although he recognises Kim very well from the photographs he’s studied. Kim gives him a nod. This time he takes a good look at Kenta, sharp eyes sweeping from his carefully styled hair down to his perfectly shined shoes.

anyway then they go to Kim's hotel room and hook up and it starts from there.

Kim in the last few episodes is the BEST. he's just like "time fro breakfast! sure I'll chase down a teenager for a phone. sure I'll come along and beat up Winner in a funky jacket. sure I'll join your racing team and adopt north and sonic as my babies."

I NEED A FOLLOW UP I NEED A SPECIAL EPISODE OR A SEASON TWO. I hope we get something, even tiny crumbs, from the fanmeeting coming up. until it happens I can live in hope lmao.

!!! NOT THE KEYS THAT'S PERFECT!!! oh for sureee Kenta wears his basically all the time. its definitely black leather, right? he has a day collar something like this. or it says return to owner with Kim's details!! and then he has a more substantial collar for when they're at home, with rings for attaching a leash or ties to. yessss Winner. he doesn't care about it but also he should be given presents especially if other people are getting presents! I feel like his collar is red. probably leather as well. spiked!! or maybe something like a martingale collar so it's fine until someone pulls on it. imagine how pretty something like this would be for Dean though! or was thinking like an actual chain necklace/choker so he can wear it all the time and it's all delicate. I'm just imagining them all at the club or whatever, I think Kim deserves to hook his fingers in Kenta's collar while they're sitting drinking and pull him in until he's practically in Kim's lap. or maybe dancing and Kim tugs Dean's shirt down to show off his neck and Kim's claim.

IT WAS SO GOOD as you could probably tell by the insane comment I left. Dean has NO POKER FACE WHATSOEVER he's so easy to read!! how did he get away with any crimes!

the bad guy mv….DELIGHTFUL. even if it was just singing and dancing I love it with every part of my heart.

we keep putting Dean in this situations because he's….so pretty when he cries and is all emotional. BUT LIKE. Kim's not even stopping anything with Dean! in my head he's not even really starting anything with kenta, he's just being supportive and helping the guy integrate into society like a functioning human being. but of course nobody can use their words. Dean alwasy goes from 0-100 INSTANTLY. "It’s physically impossible to be jealous of Winner" LMAOOO. so true. askjfh PAINNNN. Dean definitely thinks he wants possessiveness - I think that's why the polycule works because Kim does offer protectiveness but I think both Winner and Kenat go for possessiveness. Winner because they're HIS things. and Kenta because he's had so little and can't lose any more. Kim is like. "unhealthy! but also…kinda hot." sometimes you just want a dude to go a little bit feral over you. okay.

!!! SEND HEAT RELATED THOUGHTS IMMEDIATELY. we should also talk about designations. I think in the show they're all just. not alphas. but personally I cannot write Winner as anything but an alpha. I tend to go for the other three as betas except for the fics I started early in the show with Kenta as an alpha lol. and I just started messing about with a sci fi au where perhaps Kim's suppressant chip malfunctions and it turns out he's not a beta and now he's about to go into heat in a very cramped ship... but I'm pretty sure I can be convinced any way for these four lol.

[kolbisneat]

MONTHLY MEDIA: December 2023

And so the year draws to a close! Big movie month and hoping to carry that over into the new year.

……….FILM……….

Turning Red (2022) Late to the game on this but it’s so great! When they talk about the ritual and that the words to the music don’t matter, I knew it was gonna lead to 4*Town playing a key role, but what they did on top of that was a genuine surprise and what takes this to the next level: they embrace the obvious setups but add an extra twist to the payoffs. So great.

The Fate of the Furious (2017) Okay I really love the idea of evil Dom so this movie moooooostly works. I’m still getting caught up on the series but even knowing that Han is alive, it’s still baffling that Shaw is embraced by the crew. He killed that whole hospital wing! 

Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (2001) These are of course Christmas films and I’ve noticed a transition in myself having not seen them for many years. I once liked the earlier movies for how faithful they were to recreating the books, but I now see how that the accuracy is at the expense of the movie’s pacing. Still really impressed with how well cast the core trio is even at this age.

The Santa Clause (1994) Nostalgia overwhelms my perspective on this but, as far as I can tell, this holds up pretty well. Starting Scott off as just...kinda the worst makes his transition all the better and I think is where Tim Allen is at his best. Plus a lot of really great sight gags which I don’t really see anymore (like the Denny’s full of sad dads).

Confess, Fletch (2022) Fun and the sort of movie I wish got made more often. Not all of the humour really landed but the characters were engaging and the mystery lead to a lot of fun. Perfectly decent rainy day watch.

The Night Before (2015) A lot of ups and downs with this one. At it’s best it’s very funny but when it slows down it really grinds to a halt. I wonder if the hangover movies have the same challenge. Also 100% thought the steroid injection was insulin.

Frosty the Snowman (1969) and Santa Claus is Comin' to Town (1970) Two Rankin Bass classics that really highlight the best that this production company could do.

No Hard Feelings (2023) and Easy A (2010) The former was a pretty fun comedy that didn’t have a lot of comedy and the later was a comedy that I remember loving when it came out but not really connecting upon rewatch. Would I still recommend both? I think so, but only lightly.

……….TELEVISION……….

Blue Eye Samurai (Episode 1.01 to 1.04) A good chunk into the season and really digging it. The characters are rich and layered and the show is doing a good job of exploring those layers in an engaging story. Plus the setting/time period allows for a lot of really great visuals. Definitely making the most out of the premise and stoked for the rest of the season.

Poker Face (Episode 1.08 to 1.10) Such a satisfying series. The majority of the episodes stand on their own but the bigger picture occasionally pops up, until the end of the season where it becomes the main focus. Just like TV used to be! Really beautiful wardrobe and set design, all the actors seem to be having a great time, and each episode feels thoroughly realized. Big fan can’t recommend enough. 

Scott Pilgrim Takes Off (Episode 1.07 to 1.08) Came into it expecting something else and it’s gonna take some time to adjust to what it was. Gotta rewatch but really no complaints! 

……….YOUTUBE……….

Plagiarism and You(Tube) by hbomberguy Yes I did watch a 4 hour video on plagiarism and you should too. VIDEO

when the director is overqualified for the job by CinemaStix I never really considered how similar the early Harry Potter movies but it all makes sense. VIDEO

Stop Taking ANY Advice From TikTok by Extranet Shaquille A quick and light reminder that social media isn’t worried about truth or accuracy in any way. VIDEO

The Marvelization of Cinema by Stories of Old This succinctly explains (to me, at least) why some modern remakes/sequels/reimaginings land and some don’t. In short you gotta ask if it’s purpose is to tell a story or maintain a brand. VIDEO

……….READING……….

There is a Tide aka Taken at the Flood by Agatha Christie (Page 122 of 224) Picked up a bunch of old Agatha Christie books at a thrift store (partly because of the cool covers, partly cause I like mystery as a genre but never read it). Turns out this is EXACTLY what I needed right now. It’s been a while since I was this stoked to keep going with a story and this specific story feels like a great influence on the first Knives Out movie in that it’s centred around a lot of family drama vying for control of a deceased benefactor’s money. So stoked and gonna grab more of these when I can. Hey do you have old DELL copies of Christie novels you don’t want? Lemme know.

Tiger in the Stars by Zach Hughes (Complete) Okay so I picked this up while thrifting. There were DOZENS of these Laser Books and figured I’d try one and see what they were like. Turns out...not that great. Some fun ideas but moved at a snail’s pace and felt like there was a lot of padding. Something like this feels like a Goosebumps book (short, quick output, somewhat formulaic) but in comparison, I think I’d prefer R. L. Stein.

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 2 by Ryoko Kui (Complete) Again rereading as the series draws to a close and it’s still such a joy. These characters are fully formed right from the beginning and it’s such a good study in dramatic escalation as right now it still feels light and fun and I love it.

The Michael Moorcock Library: The Chronicles of Corum Vol. 1: The Knight of Swords by Mike Baron, Mike Mignola, Rick Burchett, & Kelly Jones (Complete) Love these illustrated retellings of the old pulp fantasy novels. Sometimes the limited page count leads to pacing that feels rushed and a scale that feels smaller than the grandiosity of the subject matter, but every adaptation requires sacrifice. Gonna keep going with this series and also try to find the original books!

……….AUDIO……….

Cold & Blue All Over (Demo) by Blue Freezie (2023) A little punk, a little surf rock, a little rockabilly, and all a good time. Big fan of this album and hoping there’s more to come.

……….GAMING……….

Neverland: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) The Tuesday D&D crew is back in Neverland and sorting out this Elf problem! They’ve killed one and are on their way to killing some more. It’s more nuanced than that and you can read all about it here.

Oz: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) The Mof1 D&D crew just robbed a funeral and started a riot! Who knows what’s gonna happen next.

And that’s it. See you in January!

[salvadorbonaparte]

(Same anon) idk, I already get told I’m overqualified for the very few translations roles I manage to get interviewed for, so I am worried getting a PhD would be the nail in the coffin. I agree with you, I would love to do a PhD because I genuinely care about the topic of both my MA and my BA theses, and I think that alone should be the biggest reason why someone tries it out. I’m just worried I’ll be working my ass off for five years and then be unemployed anyway. The AI hype is really making me think maybe I should jump ship and go into teaching or something

Sorry I fell asleep.

I'm also always either overqualified or underqualified and I think that an employer who is too cheap to hire real talent will always find an excuse like that, no matter your degree.

I really do hope that this enshittification trend, including shitty cheap AI translations, is eventually going to backfire.

I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if I'll find a job after that degree either. Yeah that's kinda scary sometimes. But I simply know I have to do this or I'll spend the rest of my life regretting it.

When it comes to teaching, a PhD usually includes a fair amount of that, which would give you experience and would make it easier to jump ship if other things don't work out.

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 95

Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3.

---

Chapter 95

Rose’s face lit up when Ron came into the kitchen. Hermione had her sitting on her lap while she tried to juggle her breakfast. Ron didn’t know what she’d been doing prior to his appearance, but ever since her first smile two weeks ago, it was all she seemed to do now when she saw either of them. 

Ron returned her smile, his heart aching with the knowledge that he wasn’t going to get to see that smile all day, every day anymore. 

“You like the robes, Rosie?” he asked, holding out his arms. “I haven’t put them on since you’ve been here. It feels strange wearing them again.” He crouched by Hermione’s chair, coming level with his daughter’s face. Her mouth spread into another smile when he tickled her under her chin. “I’m really going to miss you. It’s going to be hard.” He lifted Rose from Hermione.

He’d known since before she was born that this moment would come. What he hadn’t known back then was just how much he’d love every moment he spent with his daughter. Part of him had even thought that maybe after six weeks of being stuck at home with a baby who needed him for everything, he’d appreciate his job more than had before.

Instead, it had confirmed that he didn’t want to be an Auror anymore so firmly that he’d resented even dressing in the robes that had once made him so proud. Not that it was dangerous these days, but his job had a history of being hard. People died doing what he did. The very thought of anything happening to him — abandoning his daughter — made him physically ill. 

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said confidently as he tickled Rose again, resulting in a third smile from her. “It’ll take a bit to get used to, but you will get used to it.”

Ron gave a non-committal nod. He’d not expressed his uncertainty to Hermione since that one time two years ago — before she was even pregnant. How had he let this go on for that long? He should have made his decision back then, but something always seemed to come up. His injury against the Black Robes, losing their baby, then having Rose. He just always felt like he would be letting people down if he were to leave. And the question of what was he supposed to do instead always entered his mind.

There really was nothing else for him. He was overqualified for almost every other job now, and he’d lose a large chunk of his income doing almost anything else. Now that they had a baby, they needed every Galleon possible.  

“I’m sure they won’t give you too much work on your first day. Just a lot of catch-up and briefings,” Hermione continued, mistaking his silence as worry.

“You don’t know Robards like I do,” Ron said, kissing Rose’s forehead and reluctantly handing her back to Hermione. “He’ll throw me right into everything with the expectation that I’m up to the task, lack of sleep not considered.”

Hermione kissed him. “You’ll be okay. Just think about coming home. And, please, actually make it home.”

Ron smiled. “I doubt they’ll put me in the field. Have any plans today?”

“We might go for a walk this morning. Then when she’s sleeping, I might actually start preparing for me to go back to work.”

“You still have six weeks left!” Ron protested. 

Hermione smiled. “I know, but unlike you, I don’t like leaving things to the last minute. There’ll be a lot to catch up on.”

“You’re also supposed to be using this time to spend with our daughter,” Ron reminded her. 

“Which is why I said when she’s asleep. And I don’t mean I’m going to be at it all day, or exerting myself. I just might send in some memos, and get a rundown on what’s happening.”

“I’ll check up on Malfoy for you,” Ron assured her.

“That’s not what I meant —”

“I’ll still check in.” He kissed her again. “Please don’t do too much.”

“I won’t.”

Ron lingered in the kitchen for a moment longer, watching his wife and daughter.

“Ron?”

Ron shook his head. “It’s harder than I thought,” he said, and he kissed Rose’s forehead again, and gave Hermione another kiss. And before he could change his mind, he left them there and Floo’d to the Ministry, not at all happy about the bustling atrium he found himself stepping into. 

As he stood by the grates, taking in the familiar, yet unfamiliar, sights, he couldn’t help but wonder just how he’d ever thought that this was what he’d wanted. If he was being honest, the most exciting part of this career for him was getting offered a position in the Aurors. Training had been good, too, but it had basically ended there for him. 

It was the title, he thought. The prestige and status that came with being an Auror. That had mattered to him when he was eighteen, the sixth child of Molly and Arthur Weasley and the new boyfriend of Hermione Granger. It had been important to be recognised, and acknowledged, for doing something worthwhile. Back then, he hadn’t even considered that he’d receive an Order of Merlin, First Class award, or that his name would be in the history books for new Hogwarts students to learn about. Back then, he’d been lost, confused and traumatised from the war, and being offered a job in the Aurors had seemed like the perfect fix. He was doing exactly what he’d always dreamed of, not once thinking about the consequences of jumping straight into doing something his mind just wanted to simultaneously forget. 

There were so many more important things than recognition for him now. Rose was the first that came to his mind. Maybe if he didn’t have her to consider, he could stick it out. Maybe he could do what he’d always done when these thoughts had come to him and he’d brush them aside, convincing himself that this was what they needed. But he saw things differently now that she was in his life. He didn’t care what others thought, whether he was successful; he just wanted to be a good dad to Rose and a good husband to Hermione, and make them both happy. 

He had actually made the decision to go to Robards and give his notice — deal with Hermione’s reaction when he returned home unexpectedly — when a hand clasped his shoulder. 

He spun, coming face to face with a grinning Harry. 

“Been so long you can’t remember your way to the office, huh?” Harry said, laughing. 

“What?” Ron questioned, coming to and realising he’d been standing there with what was probably a dumb expression on his face. 

“You’re just standing there, mate,” Harry said. “It’s tough coming back at first, isn’t it? Rose keeping you up?”

Ron looked at Harry, taking in his best friend. Harry seemed to belong here, standing in his Auror robes. There were rumours spreading far and wide that Harry was Robards next in line to be Head, and if Kingsley had any sense, he’d do just that. Harry was made for a job like this; it was ingrained into him to protect others from the evils that were out there. In comparison, Ron felt like an imposter in his robes. Maybe he’d belonged once, but he knew that he didn’t anymore and it was about time he actually said that out loud. He’d taken Hermione’s advice — he’d given it time. But his feelings remained. They’d grown stronger, even. He couldn’t pretend anymore. 

Harry frowned. “She really not sleeping, huh?”

“Rosie’s fine,” Ron said. He ran his fingers through his hair. “She’s great. That’s the issue, really.”

Harry’s frown deepened. “I’m not following.”

Ron nodded. “Fancy a small chat before we start?”

“Of course,” Harry said, and he smiled. “You can tell me all about that amazing daughter of yours.”

“It’s not like you haven’t met her,” Ron said as they pushed their way through the workers to the lifts. “Let’s go to the courtrooms. I can get into Hermione’s private office down there.”

“I know I’ve met her, but she’s my niece and I’m interested since we last saw her. You and Hermione handling parenthood okay?”

Ron nodded. “Honestly, I feel as if it’s something that I should have been doing years ago. It just feels…”

“Natural?” Harry finished. “Yeah, I’ve seen you. You seem pretty comfortable playing dad.”

“Yeah. I dunno. Maybe it’s the Weasley in me, but I just love every moment with her. It doesn’t feel right being back here, being away from her.”

“Worried Hermione won’t do it right?” Harry teased as they stepped into the lift for the courtrooms. 

Ron smiled, shaking his head. “She’s nailing it. And she’ll nail the work-life balance when it comes to it, too. As for me… I’m not sure I’m cut out for the whole working and being away from my kid aspect.”

“It’s really hard,” Harry sympathised. “It took me months to get used to it, but you do adjust. And kids so young are incredibly resilient. Admittedly, Ginny is rostered to begin training for the Harpies again in April, so that’ll be a challenge, but we have a plan. But I understand how hard it is to leave for the first time, not knowing what they’re doing, if they’re okay…”

The lift came to a grinding halt and Ron and Harry stepped out. Being early, there were hardly any people in the courtrooms. They walked in silence for the short trip to Hermione’s office just off courtroom two. Ron used his wand to unlock the door, breaking her enchantments she hadn’t even told Maia or Malfoy how to get past. 

The office was small, but it was pristine. It was the place Hermione worked when she had back-to-back cases to handle on busy days. On most days, even Ron wasn’t allowed in here unless it was to drag her away from her work. 

Ron moved to her desk and sat down in the chair. Harry grabbed the only other one in the tiny space and sat on the other side. He looked at Ron sympathetically. 

“I’m guessing all this is overwhelming. Being back here after being in such a nice little bubble with your new family. I experienced that, too.”

Ron leant back in the chair. Harry was briefly aware of his dying interest in being an Auror, but he always got the sense that Harry didn’t fully comprehend just how much he didn’t like it anymore. Because of that, he’d not really spoken to Harry about it, nor had he spoken to Hermione, who also didn’t get it. But if he didn’t talk it through then he’d continue being stuck where he was with no way forward. 

“You remember way back before Rosie was born and I said that I was considering maybe… leaving the Aurors?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. How you weren’t sure if it was for you anymore…”

“Well, being a parent really puts perspective in your life, as I’m sure you’d be aware of.”

“Of course,” Harry said slowly. “I’m not really liking where this is going. I’m getting the impression that this new perspective hasn’t told you that you should stay here.”

Ron shook his head, saying nothing. 

Opposite him, Harry also leant back in his chair, sighing loudly. After a moment, he looked back at Ron and asked, “So, you’re really going to leave?”

“I’ve been dreading it since she was born, but the moment I stepped out of the Floo, I just knew I didn’t belong here anymore. I feel like an imposter wearing these robes. I keep thinking about how much I just want to be at home with my baby.”

“No job’s going to allow that, mate.”

“Yeah… I know that. Which I think is why I’ve been here for as long as I have. There’s nothing else I can do that I’m qualified for that will allow me to be with her and work. But I think I’ve just now reached a point where I no longer care. Being an Auror requires one hundred and ten percent and right now, I think I can only give eighty.”

Harry stared thoughtfully for a moment at a spot on Hermione’s empty desk. Then he said, “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”

“Do you want to?” Ron asked. “Do you want to work with someone who’s miserable the whole day?”

“I want to work with my best mate,” Harry said. “This might sound cheesy, but coming into work every day and seeing you there is always a highlight. Before we had James, I didn’t see my wife for weeks at a time. It got lonely, so seeing you and Hermione here each day… kind of made things easier.”

“You’ll still have Hermione,” Ron said. 

Harry laughed. “True. But it’s not quite the same as having a laugh with you, is it? I don’t share an office with Hermione, which I’m admittedly grateful for.”

“That’s my wife you’re talking about.”

Harry grinned. “But this isn’t about me and I’ll cope. I’d never ask you to stay in a job you’re unhappy in just to entertain my sorry self when it’s just me.”

“Ginny won’t be taking James to training, will she?” Ron said.

Harry nodded. “True, I suppose.” There was a moment’s silence before Harry spoke again. “So, when you leave, what will you do instead?”

Ron shook his head. “I just want to be a dad right now. I don’t want to have to deal with anything else but Rosie. Then… when the time comes, I suppose I’ll look for something less strenuous. Something where I can leave every day and know that I’ll come back home without worrying if I’ll die or get hurt.”

Harry nodded. “So, a peaceful life?”

“Something like that.”

Harry laughed. 

“What?” Ron questioned.

“It’s just… I was thinking about the day we met. On the train, we were eleven years old. My first impression of you was that I liked you very much, but I never would have put you as the person who sixteen years later would want to give up a successful career so he could spend more time with his baby daughter.”

“Sixteen years ago I probably would have forgone the kids and dived head first into being an Auror,” Ron admitted. “But… things change. I’ve changed, and that’s not me anymore.”

“You’re a good dad, Ron, and I know how much you love Rose. I can’t really argue against wanting to spend every moment you can with her. I just… I guess I just want to say… give it a day or two?”

“Thanks,” Ron said, feeling a weight lift off his chest. “That means a lot. Thanks for understanding.”

Harry nodded. “Of course. But…” He stood up. “Are you planning on quitting right now, or do you think you can manage another day with me?”

Ron also stood. “I think I can manage one more day,” he said. “Besides, I’ve told Hermione none of this and I don’t think she’s going to take it as well as you have. After all, I’ll be telling her that I’m quitting fifty percent of our income with a newborn to care for.”

“She’ll understand,” Harry said.

“Have you met Hermione?” Ron asked, smiling. “She’s more likely to kill me. But… at least I’ll die knowing I made the right decision in the end.”

“So, you’re not saying anything today then?” Harry asked. “I mean to the others? Robards?”

Ron thought for a moment as they left the courtrooms. Before Harry had found him standing listlessly in the atrium, he’d been about to march to Robards’ office and say he wasn’t coming back again. But… he really should speak to Hermione first. Not to ask for her opinion, because his mind had been made up, but so she knew what was going through his head. So she understood why he had to do this. He couldn’t very well quit and then come home and say he had no job anymore. 

“Nah,” he said eventually. “I guess I’ve just got to stick it out for a little longer before I’m gone completely. So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t,” Harry said. 

Their conversation changed to other things for the remainder of the journey to the Auror Office. Familiarity did return to Ron as they walked through the corridors, passing people he knew. In a way, Ron would miss the life he had led here for the past seven years. It had had its moments. There were many fond memories, most of which involved Harry and Dean and Neville and working with them. There was also having lunch with Hermione, going to her office in the afternoon to get her to come home. 

But it all just kept coming back to Rose. Things needed to change because of her and being an Auror was something in the past for him. 

“Hey, welcome back!” It was the first thing Ron heard upon setting foot in the Auror office again. It was Dean, clapping him on the back. “It feels like forever since I last saw you in here.”

“Huh, yeah. It’s because it has been,” Ron answered, smiling at Dean. 

“You look well,” Dean then noted, looking Ron up and down. “Parenthood treating you well, then?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “It’s great. I love it.”

“Sleeping alright?”

“That’s the hard part.” 

Ron was welcomed back by his other fellow Aurors, all approaching him within the first half hour and either congratulating him on having a baby or saying they were pleased to see him. By the time he sat down at his desk, which over the weeks had accumulated a nice pile of paperwork, he was feeling more appreciated than he’d ever felt. 

It didn’t feel as if his colleagues were just happy to see him because their workload had increased in his absence, but because they actually valued him being there. He thought back to all the rumours he’d caught wind of in his time here, how people talked about how he and Harry were some of the best Aurors they’d ever seen. He’d always dismissed them, thinking his involvement in the war had a lot to do with that image, but… maybe not. He really was decent at this job, he knew that. Even if he was qualified for another job, would he be as good at it? At the same time, none of it made him want to change his mind. 

Robards was the only one who seemed indifferent to Ron’s return. At nine on the dot, he marched into the office, calling a quick meeting. 

“Over here, over here,” he beckoned, drawing them over to where he was perched on his desk. His eyes fell on Ron and he nodded briefly. “Welcome back, Weasley. I trust you can join in and catch up?”

“Yeah,” Ron answered. “I can follow.”

Robards nodded again. “Good. Listen, Aurors, you’ll be finding yourselves out of the office more this week. We are interviewing our imprisoned Black Robes again and I want all of you to take on at least one. There’s more than enough of you to do that, so you’ll each be given a time and person.”

“We’ve interviewed them already,” Dean interrupted, sounding almost annoyed at the prospect. “More than once. They’re not speaking.”

“Which is why we’re planning to break them down,” Robards said. “Bother them until one cracks. Spelled or not, they can be broken if the will is there.” He waved his wand. “You’ll each find your schedules on your desks. With the Magical Law office temporarily understaffed and… er… running less efficiently, we’ll need to do some of it ourselves.”

Ron looked at Harry who offered a guilty shrug. When they got back to their desks, Ron snatching up his weekly schedule, he said, “So, Malfoy’s not pulling his weight then?”

“It’s been a bit chaotic,” Harry admitted. “He’s technically in charge because Maia is under Hermione’s wing. He’s… well, he’s not as efficient as Hermione is.”

“You mean he’s lazy?” Ron asked, feeling satisfaction settle inside him. “I take it you’ve deliberately kept this from Hermione?”

“What’s the point in ruining her maternity leave time?” Harry said. “Besides, we’re managing. Hermione’s trained Maia well. She’s doing fine.”

“Stupid git,” Ron muttered, finally looking at his schedule. He was rostered in for an interview on Wednesday, which was his last shift until Saturday. Well, that was something then. He got two days off with Rose.

“In all fairness,” Harry continued, “I doubt anyone could be as efficient as Hermione.”

“He’s still a git,” Ron said. He slid some pieces of parchment towards him, eyes scanning them briefly. He couldn’t wait to be shot of this — pouring over report after report, rarely actually getting to use any exciting magic. He probably wouldn’t get to use the spells in any other job either, but at least he wouldn’t show up with the expectation each day and leaving disappointed. 

Ron had to admit that the day went well considering. He got through the work, the knowledge that very soon he wouldn’t be sitting here doing it anymore. In a way, it made things a whole lot easier and he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that had he attended work every day with the knowledge that it was one of his last, maybe he would have enjoyed it more. 

He worked solidly until midday, when Harry said it was their break. Standing up, he admired that the pile on Ron’s desk was a lot smaller than it had been three hours ago. 

“Efficient,” he said with an impressed nod. 

“Yeah, well, can’t leave you lot here with all the work, can I?” Ron joked, also getting up. “Though, a lot of it was just simple stuff. I haven’t been here for six weeks, have I? Got no idea what’s going on, really.”

“Still,” Harry said, “you’ll be missed.”

They began walking to the lunchroom, Ron, for the first time since he started training, feeling as if today was actually going to be a good day.

…

Despite the good day he did have, it didn’t stop Ron from getting out of there the moment the large clock in the Auror office ticked over to five. He was stepping out of his fireplace by the time it was five-oh-five, hearing Hermione’s voice from the kitchen. 

“Hey,” Hermione said when he came in. She left the pot on the stove to come over to kiss him. 

Ron looked around in search of Rose, only to find her fast asleep in an unfamiliar bassinet that sat on the table. 

He went over to peer into it. 

“Oh, I bought that today,” Hermione said. “You know, just so we aren’t doing things one-handed. She loves it.”

Ron smiled into the basket, watching for a moment the rise and fall of his daughter’s chest, before turning back to his wife. 

“How was your first day back?” Hermione asked brightly. 

“Yeah, pretty good, actually,” Ron said. “How was your first day alone with Rosie?”

“You know what?” Hermione said, “I thought it would be hard. I thought she might miss you, but we were fine. I ended up taking her into the city. We got the bus — I didn’t really want to Apparate her just yet — and I bought the basket. We went out and about and… it was really fun.”

Ron smiled. “That’s great,” he said. “I’m glad you had fun. I missed her a lot today. It was hard being away.”

Hermione returned to the stove, peering into the saucepan before replacing the lid. “It’ll get easier,” she said. “But if it makes you feel better, I know she missed you, too.”

“I’m glad.” Ron came into the kitchen, leaning against one of the benches. He wasn’t exactly sure how to bring his decision up with Hermione, but he knew it was something he had to do sooner rather than later. He’d already put it off for far too long and he wasn’t going to do it anymore. “I came to a decision today,” he said after a moment.

“A decision? About what?” Hermione frowned at him. “Work?”

“Yeah,” Ron said. He bit his lower lip, searching for the words. “You know how a few years back, right when the Black Robes started and I got hurt and stuff?”

“Yes,” Hermione said warily. 

“And how I mentioned how I wasn’t sure if being an Auror was something I wanted to do anymore?”

“Yes,” Hermione said again. “But you got over that, didn’t you? I mean… you’ve been really enjoying it, haven’t you?” He heard the uncertainty in her voice, and he knew in that moment she was going to be disappointed in him. 

Ron shrugged. “It has been convenient ever since then,” he said, “but I’ve not really enjoyed it for many years.”

“What? But Ron… you’ve always wanted to —”

“Yeah, I know, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do,” Ron said. “And I’ve done it. Today when I was there, I hated it. I hated being away from Rose. I made the decision to leave the Aurors.”

Hermione said nothing. For the longest moment, she simply stared at him, her expression unreadable. Ron had known this would be hard for her to process, and telling her like this probably wasn’t the best way to do it. The timing was probably wrong, too, but the timing had always been wrong. He needed to do it. 

Eventually, she spoke. Her voice was barely audible. “You what?”

“I’m quitting,” Ron said. “I want to be here with Rosie. I want to be her dad, not someone who goes off doing dangerous things every day, not knowing whether I’ll ever get to see her again. Being an Auror is dangerous and I’d much rather come home every day to see her and you than dealing with Dark Wizards.”

Hermione opened her mouth but no sound came out. From the table, Rose whimpered and shifted, but didn’t wake. 

Eventually, she spoke. “Ron, you can’t just —”

“I’m doing it,” Ron said, his voice firm. “I know it’s not what you expected, or want, but it’s how I feel. I feel miserable going in every day. I get no enjoyment from doing any of the work anymore. It’s not what I thought it would be. There’s no fulfillment in it anymore.” He glanced over at his sleeping daughter. “But there’s a lot with her.”

“So, you’re just going to stay at home, then?” Hermione questioned, and he heard a hint of anger in the way she spoke. “Stay at home with Rose each day?”

“I hope to find another job eventually,” Ron said. “One that’s not as dangerous. But for now…” He looked over at his sleeping daughter. “For now, yeah, I just want to be here with her. You go back to work in six weeks and you were worrying about care for her. Well, now you don’t have to.”

Hermione shook her head. “That’s not the solution I wanted, Ron,” she said. “I’m actually really upset about this. That you made this decision without even talking to me about it.”

Ron nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’m —”

“You just made the decision without even discussing it!” Hermione continued. “You just went in today and decided you’d had enough, so you quit without any worry about how we’re going to handle this?”

“It’s not like that,” Ron said. “You know I was thinking about it —”

“Two years ago!” Hermione cried. “More than two years ago. Between then and now, you never said a word. Nothing that indicated you were unhappy. And now… now you just come home and tell me you’re quitting without any backup plan?”

“Hermione —”

“No, Ron,” Hermione said, “This isn’t okay. We just had a baby. We have a house, we have food to get, bills to pay… what I earn can’t cover all of that.” 

Ron rubbed his face with his hands. He’d known she’d be upset, but he’d hoped that if he explained that he wasn’t happy, then she’d understand and be supportive. But he had kind of sprung it on her out of the blue. He might have been feeling this for years, but she was right when she said he hadn’t spoken about it to her since the first time. He’d kept it to himself, going over and over the pros and cons of it all in his head, but never out loud. 

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I know this is a lot to take in. That it’s a shock. It’s just… when I got there today, all that backwards and forwards I was doing with myself, all that questioning, I just found the answer I was looking for.”

Hermione seemed to relax a little, taking a few deep breaths before she spoke again. “Ron,” she said gently, “I know you were struggling to leave Rose today. I know you love being with her, but you can’t just quit your job because you miss her. It’s… not how it works.”

“She’s not the reason I’m leaving,” Ron said. “She’s just the deciding factor. I don’t want a job that could risk me not coming home to her one day.” He thought for a moment. “Listen, I haven’t actually quit. I just made the decision to do it. I’m still going to go in tomorrow, and the day after. I’ll stay until something else comes up. Something that’s better for us.”

“This is perfect for us,” Hermione said quietly. “It always has been. It’s worked.”

“It doesn’t work anymore. Not for me.” He looked at Hermione, who now seemed torn between sympathising with him and being furious with him. “Hermione, I just don’t want to do it anymore. I’m unhappy there and because of that, I can’t do the job that’s required of me. Not to my best ability anymore. It’s been great, it really has, but there’s a job that I love more now and that’s being a dad. For me, I can’t give one hundred percent to both, so I choose Rosie.”

“She doesn’t bring us money,” Hermione said. 

“Yeah, I know. She brings us a lot more important things.”

Hermione glared up at him, and she must have seen something in his expression, because her expression softened. “You’re really that unhappy being an Auror?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“You should have said something sooner.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I just… it was just hard to make the decision to finally do it. I know that whatever I do, I won’t earn as much as I am now and that’s kept me from doing it sooner.”

Hermione’s eyes flickered to Rose again, who remained asleep, blissfully unaware of the changes that were about to befall her. She looked back up at Ron again. To his surprise, she smiled. “I suppose I can’t be too angry over you wanting to spend more time with her. I just… I just don’t know what we’re supposed to do in the meantime.”

Ron reached out and tugged her arm, drawing her towards him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. “We’ll think of something,” he promised. “All I know is that you and Rosie — my family — are the most important people in my life and I want to do what’s best for all of us. I know you’ll handle it all so well. You’re a great mum, a great wife and you’re a great Head of office. You’ll move further and further up at the Ministry and I’ll be there to support you in every step. Meanwhile, I’m more than happy to take a step back so you don’t have to worry about her.”

Hermione sighed. “It will make caring for Rose a lot easier,” she conceded. 

“Mhm.”

“And you’re absolutely certain you don’t want to be an Auror anymore?”

“The only thing I was more sure of was marrying you,” Ron replied. “We’re a team, and this is what I need to do to make it work. And I’m completely okay with this decision.”

“Alright,” Hermione said after a moment. “I suppose I understand.”

“Thank you.” He kissed her again, and it was only then that he realised it was probably the most he’d kissed her since Rose was born. She always seemed to be in one or the other’s arms that they had barely touched each other in six weeks. 

After a moment, he pulled away. Rose’s cries quickly filled the kitchen and they smiled at each other.

“I’ve got her,” Ron said. And he went over to the basket, picking up his now-wailing daughter.

[greenandhazy]

One of my coworkers has been talking a lot lately about how she feels like she doesn’t know what she’s doing at our job because she doesn’t have a museum background, and it came to kind of an emotional head a few weeks ago in which we discussed compiling some resources our whole team could consult as needed. We bought some books, highlighted some blogs, talked about setting up a slack channel maybe, and also put a standing educational department meeting on the books (which in fairness is long overdue!).

Except… in an email about the upcoming meeting, one of my upper-level bosses attached basically… a syllabus for the next three months in which we all read set chapters and watch a webinar and have regular discussions on slack, and I’m like.

1) I have a lot of other things I want to be doing during this time, things like designing programming and creating content.

2) I already have a master’s degree in this. It’s only been five years since I got it! I am pretty sure I’m actually the ONLY person in my department that has a specific museum studies postgraduate degree—everyone else has a degree in subject matter knowledge.

I mean a little bit of continuing education is one thing but I don’t want homework assignments like this as if I’m not already overqualified 😭

[runningfrom2am]

Hey! I’m sorry for the inconvenience but there were some parts I didn’t understand in the kast chapter of ltpf and I was wondering if you could give me some answers.

Did Coryo graduate with the condition of becoming a peacekeeper or did he had to become a peacekeeper because he was formally expelled and didn’t wanted to be publicly humiliated alongside a job?

What was the service that the reader could work in which was given to her as an olive branch?

Basically, I’m curious to know which punishment was more harsh in terms of the academy degree and tehir futures.

Again, I apologize for this but I haven’t read the book and English isn’t my first language! Thank you.

omg ofc no inconvenience! i can totally get how that could be unclear and honestly that’s my bad!! thank you for asking!

so, 1. what actually was the deal with coryo’s punishment: so basically, they were going to expel him unless he went into peacekeeping for a 20 year term, or he could stay and not graduate and face public shame so he felt he didn’t really have a choice. so basically yes, he had to go into peacekeeping if he wanted that sweet, sweet academy diploma.

2. what was the deal with r’s punishment: i kept it pretty vague on purpose bc to be honest, highbottom didn’t know either because they were mostly leaving it up to her father. they just discussed it briefly, so the “service” in question could be almost anything BUT it would be very low level capitol jobs, something she would have been WAY overqualified for considering her education (which, same as coryo, if she agreed she would also graduate)

SO basically their punishments were the same thing in different fonts bc they knew she wouldn’t do well as a peacekeeper bc,, she’s not good at keeping peace. that’s kind of the opposite of what she does all the time. to put it bluntly, she’s a shit-disturber with unchecked anger issues so giving her a gun was NOT the move lol

also thank you so much for reading and PLEASE come back if you have more questions!! ily!!!

also pls read it when you get the chance!! it’s so so good!!