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bearseungmin · 4 years ago

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in virtue.

Given the task to deliver an expensive piece of jewelry across the city, you’re partnered with a half man/half cyborg named Han, who’s said to know every road, building, and danger around. With a time limit and the estranged partner at your side, a world of bright colors and high stakes bring you closer together than you imagined.

DETAILS — [ 18+ | fic | 5.5k ] PAIRING — cyborg! jisung x gender-neutral! reader GENRES — cyberpunk 2077! au, romance, crime, angst, suggestive WARNINGS — corrupt corporations and police, depictions of smoking, abduction, swearing, mentions of loss and loneliness, altercations/combat, near-death experiences, blood/cuts/bruises, smut mentioned but not in detail, love at its finest A/N — hi i have no self control and swapped a flopped main writing blog fic into a jisung fic. enjoy

prologue.

“In all do respect, sir-” Your voice was drowned out by the blasting bar down below, a shallow tone still reaching the large man’s high-tech hearing aids latched onto his ear. “I don’t think you should have come looking for me like this.”

“Got some more important plans tonight?”

The corporate ruler sat forward on the smooth leather, the furniture wearing down from his fancy tuxedo right on the spot. A massive barter, the kingpin had come across you stealing from him months ago. At your release, you made a deal to allow him to come to you for any task he didn’t feel the need to do himself. It was a mistake speaking to the yuppie at all.

“You know I have zero patience for any slow business. I can’t even stand watching you sit on your ass right now with me in the room.” The groggy voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you. He had wandered in, leaving out of his fancy limo that would be stolen had he not come with bodyguards. Men larger than you by three times your size, yet smaller than the kingpin himself.

“I am aware of that. But this—this task.” Your eyes darted anywhere but the man’s blank stare, his tolerance for your stalling making him huff smoke from the cigar on his lips. “Getting something so expensive across the city, and alone? I won’t last twelve hours out there.”

“You think I don’t know that?” His eyes squinted, teeth baring like a bear about to catch an innocent salmon swimming upstream. “I got someone that can give you protection, but he’s a hard man to convince.”

“You have to convince someone?” Talk of the man sounded dangerous himself. The kingpin was known for getting the hands of anyone he needed in the snap of two fingers or the nod of his head. If the unnamed, faceless man needed convincing, where the hell did you lie in the equation? Just as a piece of meat, bait for a man that will kill you halfway through and dump your body so that you’re never found? He already sounded like a handful as it is.

“Man’s known as a mad dog. Feral when he’s at work, but calm behind the eyes when he’s not. All I know is where he stays and what he’s named.” Plump lips separating to pull the large cigar from his mouth, the two fingers holding onto the drug placed it down into the large ashtray on the table beside him.

“Okay, where am I supposed to find this guy?”

“Mad dog, named Han, tends to stay around the fun parts. Unseen places, empty spaces, anywhere he can go undetected.”

“So where is he?”

“Try Clouds in JapanTown.”

The largest diamonds you’d ever seen clasped into more gold than what was stocked in Watson. A tangible necklace amassing more Eddies than your family would receive for your own life insurance. All for the kingpin’s daughter as a gift for turning eighteen and getting married on the same day. If you left out of Watson with this, even held the case for a moment’s time inside of a crowded space, you’d be put six feet under. But the payment you’d get, the respect you’d receive for treating his family as important as your own, and the finishing of the deal you made years ago would take the bounty off your head. You could live again without struggling to keep a roof over your head and food in your stomach. And even more so, have the possibility of your name being paired with one of the most critical and important men in the business through chat and gossip.

“I’ll have him by my side before dawn tomorrow morning.”

one.

Your defamation: you’re solely human. A lifeform all around you with expensive technology and people with robotic limbs and partners, you managed to stay only flesh and blood. A defamation, many would call it, because you were considered absolutely weak. Soft and temperate, you were considered fine china lost in an old thrift store in a lifestyle like this.

Japantown in sight, the smells of grilling meats and flowers from the marketplace gave you a sense of calmness. The space commonly busy had rushing people in all directions, stifled laughter at the bike beneath your form almost daring you to stop and walk beside the transportation instead of riding it between others.

One of the hardest things to cope with in such a high-tech world, the way everything expanded to quickly. The old bike was from centuries ago, rusted on its hinges but still mobile. It wasn’t the first time you had been laughed at for using such an ill-made creation; it was all you had on you from Watson. Fortune wasn’t in your favor or future, only stability.

Which only makes being in a place so unfamiliar to you dangerous. Sliceable skin and a slow-paced ride compared to the bots and heavy-rated vehicles all around, you were out of your element taking an empty alleyway as a trail.

Your directions were to make it into Japantown like any casual person would, look as if you weren’t holding something that was worth more money than your life and your soon-to-be partner’s together. The cyborg pronounced himself stupid to be commonly in the area when he didn’t have a mission, lingering in the dark corners and out of sight but still managing to be caught by the kingpin’s bots to find his location. If anything, the man is a joke to you.

Dark cement under the bike’s tires, the sudden open road connected to the alleyway drew chills across your skin. It was normal to see an open road way out from bits of the city, spaces used for drops and swaps, but never a single road. Red lights too small to seen by your naked eyes, cameras placed in the top corners of buildings by corrupt cops tracking them to capture stranglers and take them in. They’d be prosecuted, snatched and tampered with until confessions of anything illegal or useful were given, then placed in jails and prisons to live out miserable lives. All so the cops can meet their quotas, the abhorrent bastards.

An engine roared behind you, the petals under your shoes’ soles not moving fast enough. The car was far faster, more equipped than you, and a cold hand reached for your collar before yanking you into the warm space. Ripped from the old bike only to hear it crunch and snap beneath the large tires of the vehicle, your whine was swallowed than the rumbling engine and his laughter mixed.

“You claimed me dumb, but you took the wrong street.” Big eyes, pushed back hair pressed down with gel, high cheekbones and a few wires sticking out of the same arm that rushed you into his car: you haven’t found Han, Han found you. “The netrunners are probably all over you right now. I bet they have evidence of something, anything to use against you. You must be insane thinking you can get around on that bike all alone.”

“Why? Because I’m human?”

“Because you’ve got the necklace and we have fourteen hours to get it to Konpeki Plaza without bullets in our skulls. But yes, that is something I could live through and you won’t.”

The man was already frank with you, living up to his nickname Mad Dog rightfully. The car’s tires sped up faster, quick turns left and right, all sending you back and forth in the front of the car from not being strapped in by the seat belt. One sharp turn right again, and you were sitting on top of the stranger’s lap like a lover.

“Well, hello.” His eyes squinted in focus, his left arm moving across your waist to hold you to him. In an effort to make it off of him before the next turn, his shallow voice caught your ears. “Don’t look now, but we’ve got fans.”

His arm only got tighter around you, holding you to his chest as his eyes caught sight of two bikes riding in closer and closer to the car. You felt Han’s right leg clench, his hold leaving you to wrap your arms around his neck securely to keep yourself from rushing through the front windshield as his hand took hold of the steering wheel. Sturdy hold on the gear, your mind devoid of the fact that he had joked about your transportation when his own was just as old—only remodeled. Stick shift cars had long gone out of style, Han’s fingers clenching around everything he held harder to work the car through skinny roads and off into a bigger set of streets: the highway.

With the hasty change of events, and your body still sat on your partner’s lap hugging him like the world was ending, things returned to still. Cars zoomed even faster, the bikes having turned off onto another street to avoid a chase in such a high-paced, seeable area. Able to release a breath, you took in the man’s heavy perfume before any oxygen with a cough.

“Wh-What happened to self-driving cars?” You asked him, voice shaking with the rumble of the engine as you moved off of him and into the passenger seat.

“What happened to stating your name before you get all up over me like a doll?” The rude comment passed over your head, sighing as you fell back into the comforting seat.

“You already know my name.” The smirk on his face evident, your palm met his shoulder in a light tap to quit his ego from overpowering his courtesy. “Knock it off. That was already a lot.”

“That was a lot?” His pupils dilated at your words, face meeting yours from an inch away. Torso hunched over towards your side of the car, the vehicle took over the directions. It was, in fact, a self-driving car, that much obvious with Han’s face aligned with yours and his plump lips still holding the ten-million dollar smirk. “Baby, we’re just getting started.”

two.

“The technology around us-” Twenty long minutes of silence beside the man, and you finally spoke again. “-it’s all so much all the time.” “Not used to our world, but living in it. You must have had it rough.” His fist clenched the steering wheel, knuckles turning white just before releasing to a natural color again. Han seemed like the type of person to always have a comment, and yet you could visually see him biting his tongue.

“Rough is an understatement.” The neon lights drawing the shapes of each building made your irises shine in the darkness, the city absorbing the vehicle with its many colors until it was well hidden. With such a busy space, so many people and things taking over the world, Night City itself nearly outperformed the moon’s glow.

“Considering you were on a bike older than both of us combined, I’ll take your word for it.” White teeth peeking from between his lips until you could see his gums, Han took hold of the gear and shifted it while maneuvering through traffic and into the fast lane.

“We’re headed back near Clouds. There’s a motel close by we can stay in for the night without risking our skulls.” The reflection of his face morbid in the driver’s side mirror, the passing lights turned the car into a rave as he only drove faster. “Had to drive around the long way just to get them off our trail.”

Not keeping you out of his plan, the guy seemed to be the first open-player you met when it came to speaking his mind. People in the city were so shut in, scared of telling others what they wanted or are going to do in chance of sabotage. Han was quite the opposite.

“What did you do to the Kingpin to piss him off so much that you got stuck with me, anyways?”

Thirteen hours left to be stuck by Han, he was truthful. No reason to keep quiet now, he may be the only one who knows of your past in the entire city by the time the mission is deemed over.

“How often do you lose people?” His eyes shot over to your form, your fingers laced together as you stared out the front dash like it was a movie. Even in your peripheral, you knew he held concern. “And I mean—back to back lose them.”

“Back to back?” Riddled with confusion, focused on driving, his mouth could only repeat the question.

“I’ve never been more desperate for money than I was then, and still am now. The expenses of losing one person can stifle any source of financial stability.” Looking down, you felt the tears threaten to fall. “I am just one person. And I had to pay for two funerals that only I attended. Even in a world so cold, you’d think people would come to you at your death to give their wishes and remember you. No one deserves to be that forgotten.”

“Ahh-” He sighed, reappearing in your peripheral like a mirage. Legs stretching, gas pedal reeling back and the car slowing, Han seemed to understand. “I don’t forget easily, you know. Really have to make an impression on people for them to show up to your funeral, but I’ve never been to one. Memory is in the brain, but meaning is in the heart.”

Your smile faint, you nodded without giving him a glance.

“I won’t be forgetting you.” Hazed eyes restless, he captured your chin in between his fingers to stare you straight on a second time. Like a weight lifting off your shoulders, the worry of being just as alone in the ground as the ones you buried, you had hope that one lengthy man would show. “So wipe those tears away, settle back, and let’s get your ass out of debt, shall we?”

“Going to cause me any problems?” His lips ran thin, pretending to be thinking as his brows rose and descended and eyes blinked.

“I’m not much of a problem as I am usually a solution.”

“Then I’ll take your word for it.”

Clouds, the busiest running doll ring in the area. Petite robots in all directions, greedy and greasy men running after them; the place is a circus at all hours of the day. Pornographic sounds from floors up, stains across every block of cement around the building, and the grossest smells you’ve ever known.

Thankfully, a lesser degree of the place was cloned directly next door. The motel rundown, hopped up by druggies and glorified Nomads that ran the place, you and Han got a room in the first ten minutes of walking through the doors. Two floors up, a long hallway, and a single bed in the room. Shifting eyes caught Han stretching his arms upwards into the air before sitting on the edge of the mattress and falling backwards, his greased back hair falling in all directions from the sweated-out product.

“A mattress—haven’t been on one of these in weeks.” A puff of his chest, and his eyes shut in relaxation. You shook your head, attempting to swallow the smile of seeing the man be so comfortable so fast, and lifted the case of the necklace from inside the bag to feel that it was still secure. “Keep it in.” Voice turned deep, the abrupt instruction made the case fall back down, your fingers losing their grip. “This may be a motel run by Nomads, but they’ll sell us out in a minute if it means making money to keep this roof over their heads.”

“I know how that is.” You signed, taking a seat beside his sprawled form to rest for a moment.

With such a unique item on your person, you knew danger lurked around every corner. The safety net of having the cyborg as your partner was just a bigger gamble. Han was just as compromising, well known for having bounties over his head and weapons to battle at the ready—but it didn’t make him immortal.

“Take it easy, shark bait.” His high-raised cheekbones expanded, blowing out a fit of oxygen he seemed to have been holding while watching you speak about him in your own mind.

“Shark bait?” The nickname was dire.

“You took something from a shark, kingpin, and he’s using you as bait to keep his own men safe and sound - probably for something bigger to come soon - which makes you shark bait.”

Shaking your head, he finally saw the smile on your face. Han appeared well rounded, but the leap in his back sitting him upright to watch you smile for a little longer was virulent to his nature.

“You should smile like that more often.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Han.” You laughed between speaking, his glistening eyes only opening further along with his gummy smile.

The most difficult thing to do in Night City is be on the same side as another. Most people were corrupt, fighting their own way up and not caring who was in front of them, nor their significance. A lover, a family member, a long time friend—all irreplaceable to the common person, but not one with a desire to be at the top of the food chain. Smiling at Han and having him smile back, it was like the world wasn’t so horrible around you for a split moment.

Until an abrupt knock startled you back into reality. Always on edge, your head swung towards the door first. With a finger over his lips when you looked back at the cyborg in silence, you witnessed him become what he rightfully is. A yearning solo stuck in the position of a rockerboy within the city, and only one real task at hand and in his head at all times. Kill and live.

Han rose silently, his arm clicking open to press a button and emerge a spectacle from the Bluetooth piece in his ear, one long hidden by his long hair until now. The small glass spun, enveloping in a red light. Although you are new to most gadgets—red is the universal color for danger under any circumstance. The detecting technology gave away that the person behind the door was absolutely not some fancy room service at a run down motel, but an enemy.

His arm caught you first, Han taking you by the waist and walking you backwards silently. Your original plan to rest in the bed beside the man was as far out the window as your bodies, hands pulling your bag with the necklace inside over your shoulders. The click of the window gave you away, Han’s glass notifying you that the person had stumbled into the room seconds before you both leapt for the ground and landed.

“My car, go!” A stranger’s head poked out from the window, a call of curses and threats just as quick as they were. Before you could blink, take in that the bounty was real and you and Han were now in full, combative danger, the stranger plowed Han’s head with a blunt object.

A thump sounded through the alleyway where you stood in worry, a buzzing following that couldn’t leave your ears. Arms moving, things clicking, and Han looked back at you once. “Get out of here!“

Your legs gave out from under you, knees scraping the concrete as you stood and raced from his side. Leaving him behind to fight, the sounds of the battle followed you all the way to his car. A loud beep, the passenger door opening, the engine starting, and even from nearly a block down—the cyborg had you under his palm of protection. His car smelled strongly of him, the scent engulfing you just as the doors shut and locked before the vehicle took off from its parking space. You reeled back in the passenger seat, the seatbelt in your hands instead of over your form from the state of panic you were in. No driver, the car raced down two streets before halting at the edge of another alleyway. The cyborg looked run down, Han’s hair a mess and blood splattered across his face.

“Han!?” The driver’s side door opened for him, his long legs bending to climb into the car and sit in silence. His eyes shut in pain, ringing in his ears noisy enough to reach your hearing from across the front of the car. The battle was half the problem, Han’s half-human side worn out and half-cyborg side about to circuit.

“Bio—ware.” His voice faint, weak body falling back into the seat. The car started off again, now in the direction of somewhere unknown to you.

“Bioware.” You spoke, repeating what he said as he nodded in agreement.

“Faulty at times.” He laughed, eyes opening to meet your concerned ones. Your hand reached out for him, his cheek falling into the palm of your hand for comfort. You could feel his skin running warm, the robotic arm traded in for his lost limb in the past now twice as hot as the fever surging through him. All from the interaction of a battle, the man looked lost in himself. “I’ve never been this weak before, you know?”

You shook your head. Without the comprehension of his life, more about his past and what he’s been through, the fact that he is what he is, part gadget, riddles you clueless. Helping him yourself wasn’t an option, the car finding place in a dark parking lot at the same time he sat up in his seat facing your direction.

“I’ve never had a partner, either. I guess this is a time for new things. I just didn’t want anyone to see me like this.” For once, the strengthened man was at his barrier, the catastrophe of what he had struggled with still a mystery, but slowly showing itself.

“You’ve been like this.” Your words were a statement, a soft nod as his response. “You’ve been like this-” you repeated. “-and you’ve done nothing about it.” Now you were just scolding him. “So many places to go and get fixed up, and you’re here with me.”

You released the belt from your hand, letting it sway back to the wall of the car as you moved in closer to him. Taking your hand across his arm, the metal alone ran too hot to touch. A hiss from you, and you did all that you knew to do.

“I’m going to unplug the connection from your body to your arm.” His eyes went wide, staring between your face and his arm like he was watching two people argue and didn’t know who to focus on.

“What?”

Your fingers pulled promptly, the USB-like plug removing from his arm as it fell limp in his lap. A soft groan came from him, a pout on his lips as he stared at the deadened piece. From three seconds of being unplugged, the additional limb was already returning to a natural temperature.

“It was overheating because of the pain from the cuts in your skin.” You saw his face run red in the alleyway, even took notice of how bloodied his skin had become when he sat down as the liquid soaked into his shirt. Finally taking a glance at anything other than you and the arm, Han noticed you were telling the truth.

“I am meant for more damage than this.” He sighed.

“Apparently not for a long while, Han.” You said in rebuttal. “Is this what you meant when you said you didn’t want anyone to see you like this?”

“I’ve been weak since my last mission. I went underwater in a river. Guess I’m not as water-proof as I thought I was.” His words forced laughter from his chest, resting back into his chair.

Taking out a cloth from your bag, you ran a bottle of water over it and began wiping away the blood from his cuts. As if he was inhuman, entirely, the cuts were visibly healing in time right before your eyes.

“You took Speedheal?” Almost astonished by the man’s quick wits, he could only shoot a smile your way. “Han, that’s what made you overheat. Sometimes the shot contradicts cyborg limbs because the medicine tries to rush through the wires.”

“Look at you, knowing more about me than you originally admitted.”

“I’m being serious. And the side effects, you’re weak because you’ve taken it too much.”

“You’re a way better partner than you intended to be right now, you know?” He laughed at himself. “I guess it takes a dumbass to know a dumbass. We have a bounty over our heads that we won’t lose for another-” His eyes shifted down to the digital clock in the dash, his mind counting the hours left quickly. “-eleven hours, and you’re more concerned about caring for me than checking your ankle currently throbbing right now from the fall.”

You hadn’t taken into account that the drop from the window down to the alley way was deeper than it looked, and how you hadn’t hesitated to follow Han’s lead out for a split second to remember you’re only human. You peered down at your purple ankle, the bone not broken but fractured enough to have the pain setting in as you took notice of it. “Ow.”

“Ow is probably right.” He chuckled, running his hand up and down your thigh before tapping your knee and taking control of the steering wheel. In a matter of time, the man was healing and becoming himself again, all while you were now the one injured. “At least we’re in this together.” It was like he read your mind, speaking the exact words you hoped to hear in this moment. “If we can’t rest, we can at least use a few hours to travel to the plaza. And we can take it slow this time, we’re ghosts now.”

Your sigh of turmoil didn’t go unnoticed, his big eyes capturing the side of your face before he croaked for you to speak up. “Question.”

“Shoot.”

“How are we supposed to sneak into one of the richest, most exclusive hotels undetected?”

“Oh-” He cackled, pressing at his messy hair with his fingers to put it back into place. “I’ve got that covered.”

three.

Clothes with more thread counts than you had ever seen in your life - much less wore - now layered your body. A matching set that can be worn separately, your arm slinked into Han’s form fitting one with fake smiles on your lips.

"Four hours left. We used all that time just finding something to wear. You said you knew a guy!” Your laughter between the words made him chuckle, a soft moment to be witnessed by those attending the before-party of the wedding.

The Kingpin’s daughter was somewhere in the room, between the waves of stragglers and an array of significant people, and the only way to get to her to give her the gift was by a simple strategy. A couple, you and Han linked with fake rings on your fingers, and the lie of being old friend’s of the bride on your tongues.

“Keep your calm, baby. I told you we had to find something last minute.” To anyone eavesdropping on the two of you, you sounded like a casual quarrel to blank ears.

But you meant what you said, the man stealing nearly eight hours of your time by messing around and pleasuring you in the dressing room of the old store. “Just for fun, to ease the day we’re about to have.” Han’s tongue was far more satisfying working at your body than it was at convincing you.

The entire façade made chills run up your spine in the way everyone looked over you like they could sense the lie all around. Like your pearled smile wasn’t convincing, Han’s kiss at your temple forced others to finally break eye contact.

“Easy. We’re here now. Let’s just make our readmitted acquaintance.” His hand caught the shoulder of a staff member, asking which direction the bride would be in—if they even knew.

Your bag new, fresh scented like it was straight out of a department store, and yet it felt to strange on your arm. Fingers laced with Han’s, the white path towards the bride’s side of the building caused your heart to leap into your throat.

And even worse when Han’s hand was being pulled form your own. The groom wore a large smile, his side pulling your partner in and swallowing him into the dressing room to get into a party game, one he didn’t request to join in the first place.

Han’s wide eyes caught your sight across the room just before you stepped into the bride’s side, the white color everywhere almost blinding to your pupils.

“Finally!” Her voice seemed more annoyed than grateful to see you. One of the bridesmaids ripped your bag from your shoulder, her long nails scraping at your skin in the process. “Thought I’d never see my gift.”

The necklace was pulled out like it meant nothing to her in comparison to you and Han, the piece clipped around her neck by a second bridesmaid in tandem with her huffs of approval.

“I didn’t think you’d even make it in.” She resorted to a pained look on her face, disgust riddled in her eyes as she looked you up and down. Her tone was meant to be harsh, and yet it only made you question what you’d really be receiving from the Kingpin at the brink of this. “And your husband, oh your poor husband.”

Sudden mention of Han made your attention rise back, her highlighted face just as bright as the rest of the room with a smirk on her mouth. “He really did fuck with the wrong people. Using you as bait was almost too simple. Daddy knew he would find you to be a catch, he seems to like anything with a heartbeat and mouth.”

Fists clenched, the temper you held back was visual in your eyes. Stomach-churning laughter filled your ears, the girls surrounding you like you were a film they could watch on repeat and never get bored of.

“Is that why he had interest in you?” You knew jealousy on the tip of someone’s tongue, only this wasn’t coming from yours. A straight slap to your cheek from the bride, cherry red skin, and you knew you hit a nerve.

“Han made a mistake leaving me! He’ll regret it for the rest of his life-” Her voice went from a high pitch to a low tone, slow and drowning. “-or at least, what’s left of it.”

The gasp couldn’t leave your mouth fast enough before your legs were running out the door, down the hall and over the walkway across the party below. The groom’s had long left, the door to the room now open with sizzling sounds emitting from inside the room.

You didn’t want to look—to find the man you’ve come to love having be your partner possibly broken down, or gone altogether. Nothing in life had prepared you for such an ephemeral relationship, Han’s body sprawled on the ground with wires sticking from his skin and his eyes softer than normal.

A thin laugh left his chest and puffed from between his lips, his mouth opening only enough to release it. “Found me?”

“Of course, you idiot.”

More bloody than after the escape from the motel beside Clouds, more beaten and bruised, and more worn down to his cyborg half than you’d hoped to ever see the man at. The position was detrimental, Han’s life at stake.

“Stop looking at me like that.” He hissed gently, palm stretching his fingers to catch your hand. Your crouched form next to him, tears rushing down your face and a look of grief that visually made the man feel weaker at the knees then any other time before. Han knew time was ending.

“I am-” he grinned despite the pain rushing through his limbs. “-so glad to have you here. By my side—a real partner you are, my baby.” His tips of fingers twisted the ring on your finger, playing with the object like he loved seeing it on you just as much as he admitted to loving your smile.

“Han—” You wanted to pull him from the glazed state, his body trying to convince him the pain isn’t all there, but you are.

“You know—come to think of it, I’ve never felt love like this for anyone in such a long time. I almost forgot what it feels like.”

Your lips caught his, blood seeping onto your tongue with a metallic taste that had you reeling back. Although it was cut short, the man still smiled.

“What does it feel like?” You asked, referring to the love he once felt.

“Like when I finally tap out, you’ll have a way to revive me and bring me back.”

“Hey, mad dog?”

“What is it, shark bait?” He grinned.

“I ever tell you I’m a Netrunner in training?”

“So start fixing me up then and let’s get the hell out of here, together.”

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shortkingvi · 3 years ago

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i have been forced encouraged to make this by @cherrybutchh so,,,,,

bumbleby ocean's 8 AU:

yang as lou, blake as debbie; they were partners for years, running small jobs around NYC and making a decent living for themselves.... until blake meets adam

she starts pulling increasingly risky jobs with him until he screws her over one day and gets her thrown in jail. she and yang haven't spoken in months when all this goes down, but yang still keeps tabs and is lost and heartbroken when she finds out

they slowly come back into contact while blake's in prison, exchanging letters and then eventually phonecalls. yang doesn't trust the CO's enough to visit in person, or at least that's what she tells blake. in reality, she just isn't sure if she can face her quite yet

while blake is inside, she starts to plan. and plan. and plan. by the time she gets out she's nailed down what might be the biggest museum heist in history

they assemble their team as follows:

weiss is tammy: the fence, the supplier, the one who comes from old money and even older connections and can get her hands on just about anything

emerald is constance: the pickpocket, the thief, aloof and wary but in yang's trusted inner circle she developed during blake's time inside

ruby is nine ball: the hacker, the tech wizard; yang's sister and the only one yang (and blake, to be fair) would trust with this level of responsibility

penny is rose: the scatterbrained designer who is probably way too nice for this line of work, but honestly, she's just excited to have a new group of friends

ilia is amita: she runs her parents' jewelry shop now that they've both passed and has an, ahem, history with blake. what this history entails is up to you (but to be fair, amita and debbie probably hooked up at least once in the actual movie)

anyways, once the team is assembled blake reveals the big plan. in 6 weeks, the met will be holding their "relics of the gods" exhibit and blake wants to steal the relic of choice; it's a crown, and they need to get it on someone's head so that they can then, you know, get it off and steal it and whatnot

blah blah blah a bunch of planning i haven't fleshed out yet but they choose their wearer: hollywood starlet pyrrha nikos. she'll be hosting the gala and is the perfect level of importance to get to actually wear the crown

blake intends to pin it on adam. yang is furious. she's convinced if he gets his claws back into her, she'll leave again. and yang just can't handle that. they have a big argument that culminates in blake saying "i made the mistake of leaving you once and it burned me. i'm not going to be doing that again. not to you. not ever" and then they kiss (which is what should have happened during the beach argument in the movie but 🤷)

the heist goes off without a hitch, they all wear great outfits and surprise! blake and yang stole ALL the relics, not just the crown. adam gets thrown in jail for it, everyone is filthy rich, pyrrha is a part of the squad too now and is enamoured with weiss who is, once again, in over her head

yang plans on doing the same coastal bike trip lou does in the movie except in this world, blake comes with her. "never leaving again. that's what you said right? then hop on gorgeous and let's go blow some of our now insane amounts of money"

they never have to pull another heist again if they don't want to and yang would be content with living out their days as two rich old women with maybe some cats, even a dog if she can get blake to agree. they're professional criminals though, blake especially, and yang knows if blake ever gets the itch again, she'll be right there with her

oh EDIT: they’re investigated by the junior detectives! sun and neptune are the funky little insurance investigator duo and are both trying hard and not trying at all to solve this crime

wow this was,,,,, longer than i thought it would be yikes! i just really love this idea and needed it written down SOMEWHERE, so here you go friends. ocean's 8 is an excellent movie and the potential for yang in suits is off the charts with this AU <3

#bumbleby ocean's 8 AU #should probably start that tag even tho i will likely never write this #bumbleby #rwby #dumb words i wrote

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hansoulo · 4 years ago

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cold when you hold me (warm when I cry)

pairing: din djarin/reader (gender neutral, no y/n, could be platonic)

warnings: cursing? mild angst, crying, hurt/comfort oh ye boiiii

word count: like a cute 1.5k

a/n: may i offer you some catharsis in these trying times?

Today... today just… sucked. Like, really really sucked. What was that law? Anything that could go wrong, will go wrong?

Maker, it wasn’t even anything that bad, y’know? It was just.. Frustrating. The kid was frustrating. Mando was frustrating. Everything was just…

Fuck.

You’d been in a fit the entire day, hating how shrill your voice sounded when you became short with the both of them. You didn’t mean to. You didn’t want to. It’s just that everything managed to become incredibly too much for seemingly no reason at all, enough so that just the sound of the Crest’s controls was enough to bring you near tears.

One of the subjects of your ire spoke up.

“Are you- alright?” his words were stilted, halting and unsure but edged with soft concern. You let out a laugh, the sound watery.

“Yeah, yeah I’m-” you swiped your knuckles across your eyelids, tracing the sunburst dust that follows the pressing on your vision before the shine of his armour came back into view. “I’m good,” you finished with a small sniff and a bobbing nod, trying to convince yourself more than him.

A few seconds passed in silence. You wiped at your eyes again. Tasted one roll of dripping salt. And turned away.

The Mandalorian’s hands curled around the ship controls. He was still, ever-stoic save for one slight turn of his head. “Do you want to… talk about it?” he asked when you only breathed, the sound rattling a wheezed hollowness in your chest and against the cockpit walls.

You smiled - or tried to - and shook your head gently, feeling the pool of crackling tears before you willed them back down. “No, it’s okay,” you answered after a moment, quiet. “Thanks, though.”

The hem of your shirtsleeve caught in your nails when you fiddled with it, drawing out a loose thread and watching as it piled around the skin of your wrist. It was white. The thread, that is. Which was sort of strange because the fabric was black, so it really didn’t lend itself to blending into the rest of the- oh, shit you were crying again.

“I’m gonna go, uhm-” you swallowed, ducking your head with a cough as you stood up from the copilot seat. “Check on the kid. Maybe nap.” You offered up a vague wave up towards your head in half-hearted explanation. “Headache.”

The Mandalorian nodded. “The Mandalorian” felt… impersonal, though. Mando, you called him sometimes. Nerf-herding hunk of fucking metal, other times. None suited him very well, you thought before you turned to go, the goosebumps rising on your arms from the chill of the air vent above your head. You knew better than to ask for his name, though. Maybe one day, you could call him something else.

The ship’s filtered air washed over you in waves, trickling down your neck and through your sleeves like recycled water, soothing some of the raw sting still settling in the base of your stomach. One breath. Two breaths. In. Out.

No tears. No fuss.

No one to witness when you do.

You shook yourself out of your shallow stupor when you heard a voice, deep and rasped in modulated timbre. “Sorry,” you said, your hand curled around the edges of the entrance. “What was that?”

“I said ‘try to sleep,” he repeated.

Oh.

That was… not what you thought he’d say.

In all fairness you didn’t really expect him to say anything, but that was… considerate. Sweet, even. Maybe.

“Thanks,” you whispered, fighting down the thick notch in your throat. “I- I will.”

-------

You coudn’t fucking cry in peace.

You only heard a slight shift, one barely audible step, before the glint of beskar took up your entire field of view, looming dark and sudden above your seated figure.

“What happened?”

“Fucking- oh, for Maker’s sake,” you cursed under your breathe, burying your face in your hands with a hiccup. “Don’t- don’t sneak up on me like that, okay? Almost gave me a heart attack.”

“You look close to it anyways,” he responded.

You glared at him through the spaces between your fingers, mumbling dryly. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Groaning, you let your hands fall beside your legs until they dragged limp over the threadbare covers. “Why are you here?”

The Mandalorian took another step forward. “It’s my ship, isn’t it?”

“You know what I mean,” you rolled your eyes, drawing your knees up to your chest. The stiff rod of the bedframe dug into your heels when you shifted, scooting sideways with a pat of your hand to the space next to you. His shoulders stiffened and you managed a soft smile. “It’s your bed,” you parroted. “Isn’t it?”

He conceded, tilting his helmet as if to say I guess, and your knees jostled against metal when he sat down, apologizing. You tucked your legs underneath you. Told him it was fine.

It’s hard to tell what time of day it is. In space, everything looks the same. Cold and sterile, a vacuum of glittering crystalline set against empty, empty air. You’d been traveling in hyperspace for hours. Still had hours left to go. A long ways for a good bounty, you supposed. Wasn’t really your area of expertise.

“You can tell me,” he offered quietly, careful not to press close. Professional, huh. What was this, then? Emotional insurance? Preemptive therapy so he wouldn’t have to go find someone else to drag across the galaxy? “If you want to.”

“Tell you what?”

Maker, you were a horrible liar. As if he couldn’t see your puffy eyes and your nose rubbed raw with his stupid, fancy high-tech heat vision sensor-thingies.

The Mandalorian didn’t say anything. If you could see it, you think he’d be raising his eyebrows. “There’s nothing to tell, honestly,” you said after a moment, leaning to rest your chin on your knees and looping your arms around your calves. You stared ahead at the far wall, following the dingy metal plating. “I just… had a bad day.”

“A bad day,” the man beside you said, his arms braced on his legs as he sat.

“Yeah,” you sighed, tucking your chin and letting your eyes shut. “A bad day.”

“I know the kid-” he began, “ I know I can be… difficult. And I’m sorry-”

You shook your head, turning to look at the sharp metal of his visor. It was always so strange, hearing him disembodied. Only to face its source and find a mask.

His voice sounded human.

He wasn’t wearing gloves.

“It’s not your fault,” you assured him. His armour reflected hazy glints of gaseous blue light and you followed them with red-rimmed eyes, your gaze curious; his, unyielding. A stare-down. Stare...off? There really wasn’t any way you could know he was even paying attention. He could be sleeping right now, for all you knew.

He wasn’t, though. He was looking at you.

“It’s not your fault,” you said again, more to yourself. “It just gets too much sometimes. Y’know,” you gestured vaguely at your surroundings. “Everything. Anything. Stuff.”

The Mandalorian let out something that could possibly, maybe, in some ways, be interpreted as a laugh. “Stuff, right?”

You squinted, watching him through the sideways vision of your tilted head, and faked offense. “Are you mocking my pain?”

He let out another raspy chuckle, the sound reverberating in your ears and melting in the tips of your fingers. “No,” he said.

“Good,” you replied.

His posture loosened, more slack beside you. A little closer. “You know, you don’t have to.”

“Have to what?” you asked, your question genuine this time.

The edge of your thigh knocked against his cuisse when he spoke again. “Pretend like you’re okay.”

Well, shit.

“I don’t like it,” you admitted as you twisted your sleeves in your palms, wringing the trailing hems until they grew damp. “I don’t like-” you exhaled shakily. “-crying, in front of people.”

Hands that didn’t belong to you, tan and wide and ever-so-careful, reached up to pry the fabric from between your fingers. Then, they pushed the sleeves up, to the slope of your elbows. Then, they traced the skin of your forearms and down your wrists. And then, they stayed there. Pressing two soft thumb circles into your tremoring palms; waiting.

Your vision burned blurry as your chest tightened. “Your hands are warm,” you whispered.

The Mandalorian raised one to the curve of your cheek, over the leaking rivulet trails you hadn’t realized were falling. “Yours are cold,” he replied.

You swallowed, feeling the light callouses. Turned in. “Can you stay?” you asked. His visor revealed little, but if you let yourself slip into a half-state you could almost imagine the color of his eyes. Something dark, to match his voice. Something warm, to match his hands. “Just for a bit?”

He nodded and so you let your eyes fall closed again, your thoughts slow in that tired, aching way that prying something open makes you feel.

When you moved to rest your head on his pauldron, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders.

#*slaps roof of fanfic* this bad boy can fit so much self-projection #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin/reader #the mandalorian oneshot #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin oneshot #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian fic

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scuttling · 3 years ago

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Bully

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 2,249 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, Supportive Aaron Summary: A case in Chicago means the team is introduced to someone from Sophie's past. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to AO3 or read below! “Alright, we’ve got a case in Chicago,” JJ says as they gather in the briefing room on a Wednesday morning. “The detective there is… how do I put this? He’s a real asshole, but they need our help, so just prepare yourselves for one of those.” She passes out the case file, and Cortes tenses beside Hotch, a shift in demeanor he can almost feel, though they are sitting a foot apart.

“Please tell me, just to ease my mind, JJ—it’s not the 54th precinct, right?” She looks up with a grimace, and JJ nods.

“Sounds like you know the guy. Detective Jeffrey?”

“Fuck. Yes, I know him.” She puts an elbow on the table, leans her forehead into her hand, sighs. “He’s like the anti-Hotch: cruel, impulsive, hotheaded, blames his failures on his coworkers. This guy is going to give us grief the whole way, especially if I’m there.”

“Is there a reason for him to be aggressive toward you? Did you pass him up for promotions, accolades?” he asks, and she looks up at him, frowns.

“He’s a misogynist, and a racist, for starters. Wanted a spot on the tactical response team and didn’t get it because he can’t take orders, which had nothing to do with me, but you know how narcissists project.”

“Nothing is actually ever their fault,” Reid says, filling in the blanks.

“Exactly. I was the most convenient target for his anger. So, of course I want to do my part, I’m just letting you know there’s a lot of hostility there so you aren’t blindsided.” The team seems collectively a little more tense—no one messes with one of their own—and Hotch nods thoughtfully.

“You’re with me while we’re there, then. If he wants to give you a hard time, we won’t make it easy.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She exhales, turns back to the case file, and JJ continues with the briefing.

He takes her aside once they’re on the jet.

“Can we talk for a moment?” he asks, standing by the open seat next to hers, and she gestures to it.

“Sure. Is it about what I said earlier, about Jeffrey?”

“Yes and no. I trust your judgement; if this guy is going to be a pain in our ass, I want to have a game plan going in so things move as smoothly as possible.” She closes the folder in her lap, nods, gives him her full attention. “First and foremost, you can not let him get to you.” She leans back against the window, sighs.

“I know. It’s just hard, like going back to high school and facing your old bully.”

“I get it. From what you’ve told me, this guy is going to have all of us on edge, but you know the precinct, the area, some of the officers; the team is going to look to you a lot while we’re here. You need to be firm, authoritative, but not antagonistic. Most importantly, you need to be confident. Don’t second guess yourself because of this jerk we’re dealing with.”

“I know that giving in and getting mad is what he wants, so I’m going to try my damndest not to give it to him.” She laughs a little, like it’s easier said than done, and he maintains eye contact, wills her to see how much he really does trust her with this. “I really appreciate this, Hotch.”

“It’s what I’m here for.”

“I know. But you show your faith when it really matters, and not everyone in your position does that. You should know how much it means to us.” Her words warm his heart, and not just because it’s her who’s saying them. He knows he comes off like a drill sergeant sometimes, but it’s all for good reason. He just wants to take care of his team, keep them safe.

“Thank you. The job is tough; I try to support you guys anyway I can.”

“It shows. Thanks for having my back,” she says softly, tilting her head, and then she sighs and smiles, sits up in her seat. He’s known her long enough to be able to tell when things are getting a little too heavy for her, knows she’s looking for lightness, now. “If we have time for drinks after this case, we have to go to Tito’s, just putting it out there.” Morgan hears her, leans over from his seat across the aisle.

“Tito’s! I haven’t been there in years.”

“Neither have I. They have the best portobello tacos in Chicago. Drowning in chimichurri,” she says to Hotch, and he smiles a little at her excitement. “Give me a Corona and lime and a plate of tacos and I’ll forget all about Douglas fucking Jeffrey.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” he says, and he spends the rest of the trip sitting between the two of them as they reminisce about their favorite things about Chicago.

He actually really enjoys it.

When they arrive at the precinct, she is decidedly less jovial, and Hotch immediately understands why, when he introduces himself to Detective Jeffrey.

“Cortes, good to see you again,” he greets, while his expression tells a different story entirely. “Are you his... assistant?” He pretends to be confused, and JJ bristles beside them at the implication, but Sophie remains impassive, doesn’t even look tense. It’s possible his pep talk had more impact than he thought.

“She is no one’s assistant, she’s a supervisory special agent with the FBI just like me, and she will be taking point on this case. I expect you to defer to her expertise,” Hotch informs him with no room for misunderstanding in his tone. Again, if she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it, just continues reading over the case file provided.

“No offense, but this is a serial killer we’re talking about. It’s worlds away from chatting up a meth addict CI in a McDonald's parking lot.” She does close the file at that, and it appears to him that she can handle personal insults just fine, but that jabs at her work are where she gets defensive.

“You wouldn’t have closed half of your cases if it weren’t for my CIs, and you know it. But I’m not in Intelligence anymore, I’m a profiler, and I’m good at what I do.” She crosses her arms, exhales, and turns away from him, a clear dismissal. “Hotch, Prentiss, and I will go to the crime scene. Reid and Gideon will meet with the second victim’s wife, Morgan and JJ will work victimology, and we’ll reconvene here.”

“You got it, boss,” Morgan says, taking a seat, and in times like these he is really proud of his team. He knows as well as Sophie what it means to show Jeffrey that an alpha male like Morgan will take her orders, and Morgan took them and ran. He hides a smile.

They are unfortunately stuck with the detective when they are rerouted to a new crime scene as another body is found, but Hotch isn't worried. It will be a great place for her to show him what she can do.

“What do we know about the victim so far?” Sophie asks Jeffrey, her posture open.

“Sheila Lapinski, 27, hooker.” Prentiss rolls her eyes behind his back. “No one has reported her missing, no next of kin anywhere we can find. Coroner puts her time of death between 3 and 5 AM.”

“Does she have a record?”

“Osele’s pulling it now,” he says with a sigh, and she stops scanning the scene, looks to him with a cocked brow.

“Then how do you know she’s a prostitute?” He chuckles, puts out his hands like the answer is obvious.

“You know where we are. They’re like fleas around here, infesting, multiplying.” Cortes crouches down and lifts the sheet covering the victim, who is wearing a cardigan, pencil skirt, and flat shoes.

“She dressed like a prostitute to either of you?” she asks, looking up at Hotch and Prentiss, and he shakes his head, though he’s not sure why he’s surprised; the detective may actually be worse than she described him. Prentiss bends down, looks like she’s trying not to smile.

“No. She looks more like a school teacher, actually.”

“I’m telling you, they call this—pardon my French—” Sophie stands, crossing her arms, and cuts Jeffrey off.

“Pussy Alley. I know what guys like you call it. But you have no evidence this woman is a sex worker, and if she’s not, it’s extremely important that we find out how and why she was dumped here.” An older, bearded detective walks up to them, notebook open, and he smiles at her.

“Hey, Cortes. Nice to see you again, though not under the circumstances.”

“You too, Osele; these are Agents Hotchner and Prentiss. I worked with Osele in Intelligence way back when.” They all shake hands, and she nods to his notebook. “You have her record?"

“Yep, she’s squeaky clean. Not so much as a parking ticket.” Sophie shares a look with the both of them, and Jeffrey splutters.

“That’s—that’s not possible.”

“I think you’ll find that plenty is possible when you open your eyes, Detective,” Hotch can’t resist replying. Cortes crouches down again.

“There are no signs of a struggle. The bottoms of her shoes aren’t worn. Her clothes are clean, not cheap; hair done recently, not cheap.” Jeffrey puts his hands on his hips, all but rolls his eyes.

“Ah, there’s some hard hitting detective work.”

“You’re not even attempting to prove your theory that she’s a prostitute, so we’re disproving it for you,” Prentiss explains, pulling out her phone. “Easily. Garcia,” she begins, and she steps away from them to talk to the tech.

“What else do you see?” Hotch asks softly, meeting her on her level. “Anything that indicates occupation?” Her eyes are focused as she scans the victim, lifts her hand to examine her nails, her lip to examine her teeth.

“She has ink smudges on her hands, so she could be a teacher, but she could also be a receptionist, writer, accountant, secretary, bank teller… any type of administrative professional. She’s got a fresh manicure, teeth are in good health, so I’d bet she’s got insurance or has had it recently. No wedding ring, she’s too old to be on her parents’, so all signs point to a steady job.”

“Okay, there is no god damn way you can tell if she’s got health insurance just by looking at her.” She stands, and Hotch follows, covering the body with the sheet.

“No, you’re right, I can’t. It’s an educated guess based on analysis and not snap judgement. Do you have any insight into this case, aside from the fact that you think she’s a sex worker because of where she was found?”

“There’s not much to go on. Sometimes these cases go unsolved.” It’s then that Prentiss returns to them, and this time she is smiling.

“I had Garcia run our victim’s info, and it doesn’t look like she’s currently employed—no recent bank deposits, appears to be living off of her savings.”

“So not a teacher after all,” Jeffrey states, looking smug, and Hotch waits patiently, because he knows there’s more.

“Not right now, but she just moved to the area from a suburb called Evanston, and she was a third grade teacher there for two years. Private school, really nice place. Great insurance.” Sophie looks at her like something she said clicked, and she pulls out her phone.

“The ink on the heel of her hand could be from a newspaper; maybe she’s job hunting.”

“Wasn’t our first guy unemployed?” Prentiss recalls. “We should have Gideon and Reid ask his wife if he’s been job hunting. Could be a connection.”

“I’ll call Reid.” The fact that the victims were job hunting is what breaks the case. They work late into the evening, but they’re actually able to find the unsub—a man posing as a prospective employer only to people who are new to the area—relatively quickly once they put it all together.

The officers who remember Sophie from her time in Chicago are all clearly impressed with her and the team, and it makes him very, very proud.

Jeffrey clearly hates how quickly they solved the case, and he enjoys that, too.

That night, they do make it to Tito’s for drinks and Mexican food, and the team goes around the table and talks about their ‘Jeffreys’ in honor of Sophie showing up hers.

Morgan buys them all a round of Coronas in her honor as well, and later, Sophie offers to buy another; Hotch heads up the bar to help her carry.

“Since we’re here another night, is there anyone you’re going to try to see? Catch up with?” he asks while they wait for a few of the drinks. She smiles softly, tucks a hand under her chin thoughtfully.

“No, there’s nothing for me here anymore. Coming back, facing Jeffrey, was my last battle to fight, and you made that possible, so thank you.”

“It was my pleasure to see him knocked down a peg… and to watch you shine.” She reaches out, covers his hand with her own, which he did not expect, and nods back to the table with the rest of their coworkers, their friends.

“Come on. We’re going to have to rein them in soon. I could use a little back up.”

“Any time."

#aaron hotchner/original female character #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #latina original female character

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bard-llama · 3 years ago

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Welp. Officially got laid off today, along with 56 other people. Knew it was coming, but it still fucking sucks. I’ve been there seven fucking years, and I won’t make it to eight. And none of this had to happen. If the funding emergency is even real - and we still haven’t been presented with proof that it is AND the goal post kept moving - the bargaining unit came up with HUNDREDS of ideas on how to cut costs and raise money to make up the deficit. Management rejected Every. Single. One. They were never interested in saving jobs, they’re interested in building a “new LEE” and getting rid of people that stand in the way of their vision. Because apparently cutting the executive salaries would be “against organizational values” but laying off 57 fucking people isn’t.

I’m sad, yeah, but mostly, I’m fucking furious. I feel taken advantage of for believing in the mission of an organization that is so clearly run by people who do not give a fuck about solving educational inequity. They’re just in it for the power trip and the money and they thrive off of burning the passion out of the rest of us. No wonder they were so against us unionizing. I’m just... fuck this. These fuckers just ruined 57 families’ lives and means of income for a goddamn power trip. And then they have the fucking gall to pretend to care about us as they shove us out the fucking door.

If anyone out there knows Mike Buman personally, punch him in the face for me, will you? And maybe add a knife to the mix, just ‘cause. You can tell him it’s “for the kids”. That’s what he’ll tell us is the reason 50% of the fucking bargaining unit is getting laid off while NONE of the executive staff are. Well, no, he’s a fucking coward and hasn’t said a damn word to us through this whole thing, so he’ll have someone else say it, but that will be the message. “It’s for the children. Sorry you can’t make rent, but think of the children who will be better served in this new LEE! Running like a startup tech corporation is definitely the right choice for an equity-focused nonprofit!”

I call bullshit, Mike. When was the last time you even interacted with a child that wasn’t your own????

And you know what WASN’T in the budget to be cut? The fucking software that PAYS HIM MONEY and every single staff member despises using. Conflict of interest anyone?

I just. Fuck management. I don’t care where you work or how friendly they seem. They are NEVER your friends. EVER. People in power only ever care about keeping that power. And I have a lot of people I thought were friends to show for it.

As for what happens now... I’m not entirely sure. I’m in a pretty lucky situation, fortunately. I’m already barely paying rent (in a ‘it’s barely being enforced way’ not a ‘I can barely afford it and on the cusp of homelessness’ way) and have a potential job lined up. The severance package is actually pretty good - the union managed to win that much at least. They fought tooth and fucking nail for it, but our stewards at least managed to get us a good deal there, even if they could only save two jobs. THAT’S how unwilling management was to negotiate.

Anyway, I’ll apply for disability and unemployment and however you spell the AZ version of medicaid, which I should qualify for now, but I’ll have (shitty) health insurance through February, at least. My last day will be Feb 1 and I can’t actually sign the severance agreement until Feb 2, so I’ve got a bit of time.

Gods, I wasn’t crying until I started looking at all the other staff members laid off and just... this didn’t have to happen. This didn’t fucking have to happen!!! I don’t give a fuck what happens to management at this point, but all of my brilliant colleagues deserve so much better and I’m going to miss them so much. And we’re all spread out across the country, so the odds of seeing each other again are pretty nil and that really sucks. ‘cause this - I want you to understand: while management was prioritizing their own agenda, the bargaining unit (115 people) really came together to support each other and brainstorm ideas and work together to problem solve and honestly, it was really inspirational and heartwarming. And we FOUND solutions! We found BILLIONS OF DOLLARS to cut and ways to fundraise! We even came up with more stable funding methods! And management rejected all of them. They were never interested in saving the people of LEE. And that, I think, is the most heartbreaking thing of all, because each and every person poured their heart and soul into this fucking organization and in return, they gave us the fucking finger.

#personal rant #me #LEE #UNIONIZE!!!

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dontrollthedicesideblog · 4 years ago

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I had this office/tech-person au idea that reminded me of your fics! It just seems like the kind of thing you would write and absolutely blow me away with how good you wrote it. You absolutely nail tone and feeling in your writing. Here is the premise if you're curious: 'George works in IT at an insurance company and Dream is the not-so-new newbie at the helpdesk. Their entire job is a nightmare. One day Dream accidentally spills coffee on George and from that day onward they despise each other'

oh god damn it

Hate wasn’t an emotion that came easily to George.

Granted, annoyance was. He sighed when he sat at a meeting and realized all the information could’ve easily been communicated in an email, when some selfish idiot touched the thermostat, when he was dragged into another office party he had no intention of staying late for.

That’s why he didn’t worry when his office was the closest to the newbie at the help desk. From the intern who kept asking everyone uncomfortable questions to his stupid best friend who took his pens without asking, George felt like he was the safest option. Their boss had probably recognized that, too.

That being said, everyone had bad days, including him.

George rubbed at his eyes as he stood up from his seat. Staring at code for hours on end did nothing to help his eyesight, and sitting down in the same position was taking a toll on his back.

God, fuck this job. They could all do so much better than this. But for now he had a meeting to attend on the fifth floor, so he had to hurry the hell up.

George glanced down at his watch as he rushed across the building and into the lift upstairs. It would take at least another five minutes for him to make it to the fifth floor, but this lift was moving down. Stupid fucker on the ground floor.

When the lift settled on the floor, the doors whirred open and then came the new--

And now there was coffee on his shirt. His good shirt. There were six hours left in the day.

George stared up as the lift doors shut and began its ascension.

The man in front of him with a now empty mug of coffee regarded him just as blankly.

There will be hell to pay.

#mcyt #georgenotfound #dreamwastaken #so #that premise was accurate ;-;#couldnt help myself aaaaaaa

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cruecifymesixx · 5 years ago

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Love and Leather /part seventy four/

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: Hope every one is staying safe out there! the world is a scary place atm. s/o to @xxisxxisxxis for getting me out of my slump

Warnings: language, dash of angst, smut

Taglist: @brideofdraculana , @aryssav , @miserablecunt , @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @fandomshit6000, @anntheboneless, @justjodeye, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @hi-my-name-is-riley, @extremesadnerding, @thatbandchick39, @awkwrdcait, @countrygirlswonderland, @awesomealmostdopestudent, @romanticvengeance , @tashy-bear, @krazykatkay456, @terror-triplet, @shouttatthedevill @beachystars, @rodriguez025, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @s-outhie, @anxious-diabetic, @awkwardblackgirls, @rockersbox, @brooklyn-antiques, @shamelessobsessions, @jerseytaint, @lilytalebi, @criminalyetminimal, @motley-queen, @trapt-in-a-dream, @lunamadhatter99, @broke-n-bitchy @thanks2pete, @lovesick-heart0, @keepcalm-and-beyou, @miriampraez, @teenwolflover28, @lilyhw1, @motherloovebone, @random-internet-user-4471, @falcon-arrows, @talranocchia2001, @waywardprincess666, @malibubarbievince, @iluvmesomemarvelndc, @zoenicoles, @vamprlestat, @supersoldierballerina, @primal-screamer @electradestiny, @marshbev, @n0-sh0rtage-0f-faults, @cruebaby, @ggorehorror, @valentines-in-london, @miss2001babe, @nassauartist @cmft-jr-winchester, @bokkie92, @notworthyofyou1120 @xrosegoldwolfx, @lauravic, @mgkobsessed, @chaoticvybe, @kellysimagines @thoughtsoftheantagonist @marvelismylifffe, @sleepyjunhong @meetthesixxter @sparxx27 @gingerspicetalks @kaitieskidmore1 @unknownoblivion @nevergoodenuffbutokaaayyy @sublimeprincesswasteland @kylieinwonderland @haileynicoleseavey17 @lavendersoundbarrier @youretheonlyonewhomakesme, @xxisxxisxxis, @dogmom2014, @cruesixxlover1991, @xpoisonousrosesx, @cranberrirolls, @m0rnlngstar, @love-struck-aries, @findingmyths, @minxtruck, @i-want-to-shoot-myself, @arianareirg, @fentitrbl, @sinningsixx, @motleycrueprincess, @redlipscrystalskies14, @samanthadegaro

*November 1995*

~Nikki’s POV~

I stopped at the bathroom door, hearing Vanity cursing quietly and slamming drawers closed. I opened the door up seeing her trying to get a lid to a pill bottle-Wait.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I questioned, watching her become startled as she looked at me, “Are those fucking pills?”

“Yes they’re pills. What does it look like? I can’t get this stupid thing open.” She spoke through gritted teeth, knuckles white as she tried again.

“Why the hell do you have pills in our god damn house?!” I quietly shouted, knowing Arianna was right in her room getting ready for school, “I thought you were sober!” I took one giant stride and snatched them out of her hand.

“Nikki? What the hell! Give them back. It’s not what you think it is.” She said, trying to reach for them but I put my hand on her shoulder and gave her a light shove.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?! It’s not even seven in the morning. And you’re already trying to get high. What the fuck Van? Our daughter is in the next god damn room.”

Vanity scoffed, “Babe. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m fucking ridiculous?” I glared at her as I untwisted the cap and dumped the little white pills in the toilet.”

“Nikki! No!” She stared at the toilet in horror before shoving my chest.

I quickly grabbed her wrists and held them in front of our bodies, “Vanity, what the fuck?”

She looked at me, cheeks red and tears in her eyes, “That was my birth control, Nikki!” She rugged away from me, looking down in the toilet as she ran her hands through her hair and pulling on the ends.

“Well why the fuck isn’t in one of those little discs.” I tossed the bottle in the trash as I looked at her, “Vanity, I am so sorry. I thought-“

“Yeah I know exactly what you thought!” She rolled her eyes, “The pharmacy didn’t have my usual birth control and gave me a generic brand. That’s why Nikki.” She groaned, “Damnit, I just picked them up yesterday.”

“Uh...can’t you get more? I’ll go pick them up for you. I’m sorry Van, I thought...” I rubbed the back of my neck, avoiding her glare as I sighed, “I’m sorry.”

Vanity remained quiet as she threw the pill bottle in the trash, “It’s fine, Nikki.” I watched as she leaned forward to add more gloss on her lips.

“I mean, it’s not like we’re having sex.” I mumbled seeing her glare as I smiled in return.

“I don’t take it just so I can be your little cream puff.” She rolled her eyes, “I take it because your child screwed up my menstrual cycle and because I’ve been told I have a few outbursts here and there and the pills you just dumped help keep my hormones in check, which keeps my moods in check. So if you don’t want me to start screaming at you, I suggest you get out of my face and go to the studio.”

“Did you just call yourself my little cream puff?”

“Nikki!”

I started laughing and took slow steps to her before kissing her cheek, “Love you. If you love me later and you find yourself hungry, come by the studio and we can go out to lunch and you can meet John too.”

Vanity elbowed my sternum and I quickly stepped away and put my hands up, “I’m leaving!” I chuckled before leaving the bathroom.

“Bye baby. I’ll see you after school.” I told Arianna as I popped into her room to see she was playing with her barbies. She quickly put them down and came running to me.

“Love you daddy.” She hugged my legs, making me smile and bend over to kiss the top of her head.

“Love you more angel. Be good today.”

*a few hours later*

~Vanity’s POV~

I glanced in the rearview mirror, smacking my lips together after wiping away excess lipstick. I exhaled before glancing over at the studio doors. I figured it would be better to just let this mornings incident go and be civil with Nikki. I noticed behind me some guy in a dodge pick up truck attempt to parallel park behind me. I rolled my eyes before closing the cap on the lipstick and tossing it into my purse.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten when I felt the car move just a bit and the sound of metal being crushed, “stupid idiot.” I muttered to myself before stepping out and slamming the car door.

“What the hell dude? Your truck clearly cannot fit into a tiny little spot. If you can’t drive it you probably shouldn’t have bought it.” I groaned when I walked to the back seeing the rear end crushed and the tail light smashed on the asphalt.

“I am so sorry miss. I wasn’t paying attention. I swore I had enough clearance.” A man with long curly black hair and cut off jorts stood in front of me.

“Yeah, that’s crystal clear.” I rolled my eyes, pushing the sunglasses up to the top of my head, “This isn’t even my car.”

Nikki was going to kill me, than him.

I watched as he dug into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet and grabbing his insurance card “I can pay for whatever damage-“

I laughed in his face, “You can pay for a two hundred thousand car to be fixed?”

“Ma’am, I am very sorry. I have a lot on my mind and parallel parking isn’t my greatest skill. We can work out payments or something, just take my insurance card please. I am running late to a band meeting. Again, I am very sorry.”

I tilted my head to the side, as I took his insurance card my eyes widening when I saw the name of the policy holder: John Corabi. So this was the guy Nikki couldn’t shut up about.

I handed it back to him, “You know, it’s not that bad.” I looked at the damage, “My uh, baby daddy will take care of it. Just be careful next time. So, you’re in a band?”

He nodded and fumbled with the paper between his fingers, “Yeah, well, no. Not officially. I sign the contract today. You know, if you wanna forget about this maybe I could take you to see them?”

“See the band?” I smirked, “Maybe we can work something out. What band is it?”

John took the initiative to let his eyes wander down me before I was met with a smile, “Mötley Crüe. You know them?”

I gasped, pretending of course “Mötley Crüe?! I am such a big fan of them! We’ll call it even if you take me with you.” I brought the sunglasses back down and touched the side of his shoulder.

“Wait, really? Uh, oh-okay. Yeah, right this way. This is the studio they work at.” He gently placed his hand on my lower back and guided me across the parking lot.

He reminded me of the crackhead version of Slash if Slash himself was a lot skinnier and less hot.

“You know, you kinda look like a friend of mine. I’m Vanity by the way.” I smiled kindly when he held the door open for me.

“Vanity? Like the mirror?”

I chuckled, “Yes, like the mirror. Another favorite is it being a strippers name.”

“Well are you? Because you are absolutely gorgeous. I’m John.”

“No not a stripper, maybe in another life I was. I feel like I would’ve made a real good dancer. So, you’re replacing Vince Neil, huh?”

He nodded, “Hoping too. I think they all liked me.”

You have no idea.

“Well I think you have very big shoes to fill. I’ve heard a lot of things about the Crüe. That they’re wild and disgusting, devil worshippers even.”

John laughed, “I’ve heard crazy stories too. But I’ve always been a big fan. I left my band to do this so I’m risking a lot. But I think I’ll be alright.”

“I hope so. I’ve heard about the bassist, what’s his name again? Heard he’s kind of an asshole.” I laughed under my breath.

“Nikki Sixx? He seems like a nice guy. But if he isn’t, I can deal with assholes.”

“Yeah! Him! He’s hot but his attitude is totally shitty.” I attempted to keep from cracking up in a fit of laughter by chewing on my bottom lip. John opened up the wooden door the bands studio, the ‘in session’ light illuminated. Tommy and Nikki were laughing their asses off about something while Clementine filed her nails. Mick was in the corner talking to his tech guy.

Nikki glanced over at me, a smile spreading across his lips but it dwindled when he noticed Johns arm was wrapped around me. I mouthed the words ‘relax’ to him as he became confused.

“So this is the band? Wow, real life rockstars.” I pretended to sound enthused as John nodded.

Tommy gave me a ‘what the fuck are you doing’ type look while Clementine tried not to laugh.

“Hey guys, and Clementine. I hope you don’t mind I brought a friend. Her name is Vanity.” John explained was he pointed to a chair I could sit down at.

“Hi I’m Vanity. You’re Tommy Lee, right?” I smiled at Tommy, extending my hand out to him as he shook his head.

“I’m not shaking that because I know where that hand has been.” He leaned closer, whispering to me as I swatted his shoulder.

“Are you not going to introduce them to me?” I questioned John, batting my eyelashes at him as he quickly nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, no, of course-“ he took a sip of his water and cleared his throat, “This is Mick Mars, guitarist and legend.”

Kiss ass. By the eye roll of Micks, he felt the same way.

“And Nikki Sixx, bassist and leader of the band.” Nikki side eyed me as he leaned back into the chair, arms crossed over his chest as he let out a breath of hot air.

“I’m very surprised you’re already bringing groupies around.” Nikki tsk’d as I scoffed at his words.

“She-shes not a groupie. I accidentally hit her sports car.”

“Oh?” Nikki glanced at me, “Sports car, huh? What kind?”

I smiled at Nikki, “A black Ferrari...the damage isn’t too bad. The taillight is busted out and the bumper is a bit crushed in and scratched. His fault, not mine. But I told him my baby daddy would be more than willing to fix it.” I smiled at Nikki, seeing his face turn a crimson shade by each word that escaped my mouth.

Nikki turned his glare to John, “You hit my car?” I shimmied past him to sit down on Nikki’s lap.

“John, meet my baby daddy, Nikki Sixx.” I kissed the side of his cheek before smiling at the both of them, “Small world, right?”

A lightbulb clicked off in Johns head, “Van-Vanity....oh you’re-“

“Vanity Blackwood almost Sixx. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

John looked like he was about to shit himself, “I am so sorry Nikki. I just got a new truck and it’s bigger than my last one. I will pay for all damages and what not.”

Nikki chuckled “We’ll swap information later. Here.” Nikki reached out and handed him a black folder “Read it later and bring it back to me signed tomorrow. It’s your contract.” He kisses the side of my cheek and my neck.

I leaned against his chest, seeing the dumbfounded smile John had before turning to Nikki, “You said if I was hungry to come see you.”

He grinned before rubbing my sides and pulling me off of him, “Let me finish this and then we can go. Do you love me again?”

I pondered on it, laughing when he lightly smacked my knee, “Only if you take me to where I can get margaritas and bottomless salsa and chips.”

*a little while later*

“Baby, you aren’t gonna get drunk, you’re just going to get a brain freeze if you keep it up.” Nikki chuckled and I slurped down my second strawberry margarita. I licked the salt off the rim before taking the tequila shot he had got me.

“Am not. And you’re the one that keeps ordering them for me.” I pointed out before stealing a bite of his nachos.

“So what are we gonna do for Christmas?” I looked at him and shrugged.

“Um, I don’t know? Presents? Tree? Decorating the house? What do you want to do?”

“I want to go to Texas...”

“Texas? What the hell is in Texas- oh Nikki. No, no. I don’t think we’re ready for that..”

He nodded a bit, “I figured, I just want to Uh...make amends with your mother. And Greyson and Sage....again.”

I sat back in the booth as I watched as he munched down on his food, “Let’s do that in the new year, okay? Let’s just give Arianna a Christmas with the both of us for the first time. My family isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.” I suggested softly as he nodded again, opting not to say anything as he took a sip out of his soda bottle.

“I just don’t want them to hate me.”

“They don’t.”

Nikki laughed, “Doll, you don’t have to spare my feelings. It’s alright.”

“No I’m serious. They don’t hate you. They just...they thought higher of you and that you wouldn’t but we don’t have to talk about it right now. Let’s just enjoy lunch and talk about Christmas. Arianna has been talking about that Barbie Jeep to drive around. She saw it when we went to the store a little while ago. And she believes in Santa and I want her too believe in him for as long as she possibly can.”

“But Santa isn’t real? Why would we have her believing in something that isn’t real?”

I stared at him before I started laughing, “Are you serious? She’s a child, Nikki. It’s part of the Christmas spirit and it’s the same with the Easter bunny, the tooth fairy, and magic and fairies.”

“Well, I’m not dressing up like Santa if that’s where this is leading. But I guess we can get her that Barbie Jeep but I want to test drive it.”

I chuckled, “You know it’s made for small kids right?” My phone started ringing and I sighed through my purse to find it.

“Yeah, well, as a father I should make sure it’s safe. Maybe me and T-bone can test it. Make sure it’s up to protocol.”

“Whatever you want Sixx. It’s Clemmy.” I brought the phone up to my ear, “Hey Clem, what’s up?”

Nikki rolled his eyes, “Her separation anxiety is showing.” He muttered as I flipped him off.

“Tell him I heard that.”

“She heard you.” I smiled, he rolled his eyes again and took a sip of his beer, “What’s up though?”

“I was thinking, what if we had a dinner party tonight? To welcome John into the band.”

“A dinner party?” I looked at Nikki as he shrugged and wasn’t interested in it.

“Yeah that would be good. Would give me a reason to clean all of Arianna’s crafts off the dining table. I wouldn’t know what to cook for everyone-“ I stared when Nikki ripped the phone out of my hand.

“Clementine, it’s Nikki. If we’re having a dinner party and the band is coming over, Vanity is not cooking. Just pick up some steaks and I’ll grill them later and get some sides, and beer. Okay? Bye now, we;re busy at lunch.” He hung up on her and handed the phone back to me.

“Always a gentleman, Nikki.”

*Later that evening*

I sat on Nikki’s desk, watching him exhale as he put the guitar down, “What’s up?” I motioned for him to come to me. With a chuckle, Nikki rolled forward a bit and looked at me, “Yes, Princess? What do you want?”

“You love me?” I questioned, spreading my legs and putting either one on the side of the arm rests of the chair. Nikki’s eyes briefly looked down between my legs, catching a glimpse at a black thong under the black skirt I was wearing

“Of course.” His rough hands ran from my ankles to my mid thighs, his lips pecking sporadic kisses against my skin. Nikki scooted closer, keeping a iron grip on my legs before pushing the fabric up my hips.

A breathy sigh left my lips when he kissed against my inner thigh, his tongue darting out before pressing a kiss against my clothed core. I leaned back onto my elbows, his eyes never leaving mine.

Nikki’s hand traveled up my sternum before wrapping around my throat, using his weight to force me down on the paper covered desk. My lips parted when he squeezed my neck, a toothy grin breaking out across my face. I sighed when I felt his hot breath against me, his tongue slowly licking a stripe before twirling it around my clit.

“Can’t wait for dinner baby?” I smirked, wincing when he nipped the inside of my thigh before going back to work.

A laugh mixed with a moan tumbled out when Nikki spat on my pussy, his fingers rubbing it in before spreading my legs more. Hazel hues stared up at me as his tongue found its way inside before they closed and he hummed against my skin.

I pushed black strands of hair out of his face before resting my hand on the back of his head. “Right there, Nikki.” I encouraged in a breathy moan. His hand slipped under my shirt and bra, cupping my breast as he pinched and rolled my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

I pushed his head closer to my body feeling his smile, “I think our guests will be here soon.” Nikki paused before continuing. He placed a gentle kiss against my clit before sliding two fingers inside of me, my back arching off his desk as his tongue figure eighted over my clit before sucking on it “Come on babygirl.”

I focused on his movements, feeling my interior walls tighten around his fingers repeatedly. I heard the clink of his belt buckle being undone as I hit my peak, tugging raven strands at the root and biting back moans.

Nikki’s hands quickly grasped around my upper arms, pulling me up to a sitting position. I reached out for his pants, pulling apart the laces as he hollowed out my cheeks and gave me a seering kiss. His tongue drenched with my cum and his teeth pulling at my bottom lip.

I pushed his pants off his hips as he took a hold of his cock and I pushed my panties to the side for him. He let out a groan and my head fell back when he pushed himself inside of me brutally slow.

“Hey guys everyones- oh my god!” Nikki quickly pulled out of me and turned around to stuff himself back into his pants when Clementine came through the office door.

“Get the fuck out! Get out of my office!” Nikki yelled at her as I couldn’t control my laughter.

“Fuck! I’m so-“ She slammed his office door “-Sorry!! But everyone’s here!” Clem yelled from the hallway as I got off his desk and adjusted my thong and fixed my skirt.

“Thanks Clem!” I yelled back, attempting not to laugh and failing “Oh relax.” I stepped towards Nikki and wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling his hard on pinned against me, begging for release.

Nikki looked at me and started laughing before he fell back into the chair and rubbed his face, “To bad your back was turned towards her, you shoulda seen the look she had. It was pure disgust and horror.” He groaned and rubbed himself through his pants, “Aren’t you gonna help me? It hurts.”

“Well I feel good...” I mumbled “Put it away. The band is here and we gotta go downstairs.” I chuckled before I turned away from him and started walking to the door.

“Vanity, if you leave me like this I swear to god you aren’t going to walk right for a week.” He threatened as he quickly followed behind me before he wrapped me up in his arms.

“After dinner- Ah Sixx.” I winced, pulling away from him when he sharply nipped the side of my neck, “After dinner, I promise.” I reached behind and patted his cock to make him jump.

“Dick tease.”

Everyone was already sitting around the table when Nikki sat down at the head of it and I sat down at the other side, “Sorry guys, had to take care of business upstairs.” I glanced at Nikki before taking the bottle of wine Clementine handed to me and poured it straight to the top.

“Like what you saw?” I teased, seeing her cheeks go red as she pretended to gag.

“I’m scarred for life now.” She mumbled before taking a long sip out of her wine glass.

“Ari, baby. Tell auntie we should always knock on doors.”

“Auntie, mommy says you need to knock.” Arianna giggled as she was barely able to see over the dinner table.

“Thanks for that pumpkin. I’ll remember next time.”

“You got a beautiful house, Nikki.” John continued to kiss his ass from earlier as I rolled my eyes.

“Thank you. Vanity is the one that picked it out for us.” Nikki smiled at me as I watched him pop open a beer bottle.

“And he refused to let me decorate it. Said he didn’t want to live like it’s Easter.” I pointed out, arching an eyebrow as I looked at me.

“Because you didn’t want to live in the land of dramatic and dreadful.” Nikki matched my expression as I blew him a kiss.

I looked towards the front door when the doorbell went off, “I’ll get it.” I excused myself, “Start eating without me, Clementine has worked hard all afternoon.” I smiled at the boys, patting Micks shoulder gently as I walked past him.

Nikki reached out and grabbed my hand before pulling me to him and giving me a kiss. The doorbell rang again, “Okay, okay. I love you too.” I laughed, pulling away from his grip.

I walked out of the dining room and to the entry way, seeing a shadow beyond the glass of the door. I opened up, a light gasp falling past my lips when I saw who was standing on my doorstep.

“Deanna?”

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speaknowslut13 · 3 years ago

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Lovely Lauren! ✨ (I’ll do some alliteration too hehe so no I don’t think it’s weird 🤪)

No worries at all, I’m just glad tumblr didn’t eat it 😅 congratulations on cleaning your room, that can sometimes feel like such a monumental task!!

And thank you!! 🥰 I didn’t even have too many bad side effects, other than some slight pain in my arm and being incredibly tired for a few days (but then again I’m always tired so is it fair to blame that on the vaccine lol 🤔)

You’re very welcome! And it is so important for the younger generations, I always try to model inclusivity for my students and I hope that I’m succeeding but at the very least I’m trying.

I think with a lot of arts and humanities subjects, but especially with writing, people tend to underestimate the effort that actually goes into the craft until they actually try it. I also love reading sonnets but I’m not a huge fan of writing them because they are so hard 🥲

to narrow down the categories a bit, do you have a favorite sonnet? What is the poem you would want read at your funeral?

I totally agree, there’s a difference between getting dark and using humor as a coping mechanism for difficult things versus using it to be mean and malicious but writing it off as “haha just a joke!” 🙄

I also despise economics haha would prefer if the made up little numbers did NOT control our lives but alas! If you were to someday own your own business, what kind of business would it be??

I don’t think I’ve asked before, so what kind of work does your husband do? That’s really unfortunate about the state of the records, I’m sorry that’s the situation and hope it all works out for the best should either of you decide to go back!!

Ohhh I also have a hidden objects game that I like to play! It’s called Manor Matters, and I like that one and Gardenscapes because there’s a storyline to them so it feels more engaging than just playing the game part. I mostly like to play on the train or the bus haha.

Totally fair, being in somebody’s wedding can be very stressful. Is your sister older or younger? I have several close friends getting married this summer but I’m not able to attend because of travel restrictions which kind of bums me out. I think lacy dresses are so gorgeous!! I truly hope that you’ll be able to have that someday 🥰

Your chair sounds fabulous, it’s so nice to have a good non bed lounging spot!! I’m thinking of rearranging the furniture in my room because I’m kind of bored with the layout and maybe even getting a few new items of furniture (I’m in desperate need of a bookshelf rn) so I’ll keep you updated on how that goes.

Sunflowers are one of my favorite flowers! And I love seeing dandelions first pop up in the spring, such a nice burst of color after winter. Pink is such a fun color, I loved the “dusty pastel” color trend a few years ago and had so many dusty rose clothes hahah.

Ohhh I haven’t watched H2O in forever!! When I was in high school I babysat for this family pretty consistently and the daughter loved it so we watched it a lot together. Might be fun to watch again! What’s your favorite marvel movie? I’ve never really been able to get into it but my students love it so I promised them if we went into another lockdown I would make it my quarantine project to watch the whole franchise lol.

I’m so glad you were able to see your friend!! Are your kids close in age?

I did get my insurance sorted out thankfully and I even got in my chill walk! AND I went to the pool with a friend this week, so that was excellent. If I’m feeling up to it this weekend I’m planning on taking a hike up to a lake to go swimming and read! The weather has finally warmed up here after a month straight of rain 🌞

Sending you hugs! Xoxo 💖 Drew

Drew, my love! I love how your weekend turned out for you! Send some rain to Az for me, eh? Specifically the Phoenix area. A couple of nights ago we had something called a heat burst happen over my house. I didn’t know that was a thing until last night. But basically the temp skyrocketed suddenly at nine pm to triple digits. Plus, since it’s fire season, we’ve got all this lovely smoke trapping in the pollution. We’re under heat advisory too right now, so we have been stuck inside all week. No swimming. And definitely no going out of it can be helped. I live in hell.

The kids are close in age. Her son is about two and half years older than mine. They love each other. It’s pretty cute. We are just happy they get along.

I haven’t watched all the marvel movies, but they’re all pretty good. Honestly, Black Panther is pretty good. Iron man is one of my favorites but I’m kinda hooked on RDJ. He’s around my parents age but damn does he make it look good. The best marvel universe show I’ve seen yet has been Wanda Vision. Spider-Man is also a must see. They nailed the character. And Deadpool is good too.

I need a new bookshelf too. But I don’t have anyplace to put one right now. I think I need a bigger house. Some people would tell me to downsize my books. I would say that’s blasphemy.

It’s my younger sister who’s getting married. But I also have an older sister! We are all pretty close. Which is nice. In fact, I mentioned wanting to move out of country to my little sister the other day and she just about murdered me. 😂

Husband does data and reporting analysis. However, his degree is in Game Art and Design. He wanted to get his masters in something tech related. But he likes to code too. He and I talk about business ideas all the time! I always thought about owning a coffee shop/ book store. And recently I had this crazy good idea about a resin pour business. I do also have a clothing design I put together for school but also wanted to pursue in actuality.

The poem is by Thomas Gray and it’s called Ode on the Death of a Favorite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes. It’s macabre. And sad. And just a little funny. I should be ashamed of myself. I really should.

Honestly the bard does it for me always. Sonnet 116 is always a classic. It’s been my favorite for a long time. But sonnet 130 is a close second. The first is traditionally romantic but there’s something to be said about Shakespeare’s realistic depiction of his love in 130. It’s honest and kinda sweet.

How do you feel about satire? It can be another difficult form to master but when it’s done well I find it incredibly enjoyable. I had the joy of reading A Modest Proposal to my husband once. He was only really familiar with Swift’s Guliver’s Travels. So I introduced him to that. The shock on his face was priceless. But he enjoyed it overall.

As I was pulling out the book I needed to get the proper name and author of the poem, I came across a book I bought awhile back. It’s called the Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. That was an excellent book, and if you haven’t already read it, I thought I’d recommend it. I like to recommend that one to people a lot. It was addicting.

I’m glad your side effects were tame! Here are some sunflowers 🌻 🌻 🌻 to brighten up your day!

Out of curiosity, what do you teach???

#inthaf anon #themodrenreplies

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porsche911dealers-blog · 4 years ago

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2021‌ ‌Porsche‌ ‌911‌ ‌Review‌

2021 Porsche 911 Review

Is the 2021 Porsche 911 a great car?

It is a really good car. We give it a Total Cycle Care (TCC) Rating of 7.3 from Ten, a top rating for what's a two seater, one with a high price as well as the acceleration and grip to choose it.

What is new for the 2021 Porsche 911?

The Latest Turbo models and a few additional features improve the eighth generation 911, launched as a 2020 model. For more about https://www.champion-porsche.com/new-porsche-911-pompano-beach-fl

The newest 911 does absolutely nothing to change the classic teardrop-shape, although every 911 usually grows at the haunches. The vintage look continues within the cabin. In spite of the on-slaught of digital display screens, the 911 is also a practical paragon, with physical regulates such as paddle-shifters where they are essential, and digital ones where they are better left from hand.

With an inflexible aluminum intensive body and twin turbo six-cylinder piston engine across the line-up, every 911 has the heavenly performance that eludes some weighty eight-cylinder piston engine competition. It hammers-out, at least 380 horse power and a Zero To Sixty miles per hour time of 3.9 secs.

At the high-end and in its high state of tune, the 911 Turbo-S lasers to Sixty miles-per-hour in 2.7 secs and nails a 206 miles-per-hour high speed in spite of lugging an Eight speed dual clutch automatic and all-wheel-drive (AWD) (of all versions; rear drive models and Seven speed manuals are provided). Acceleration and grip set high standards, despite the present number of electronic-controls for damping, change rates of speed, ride height, torque distribution, and steering heft.

Overall performance

"The Porsche-911 flashes to pass through every thing on the highway."

Points might be gained or lost according to power train performance: handling and ride performance. Extremely fast (Zero To Sixty miles-per-hour in just Five secs) or extremely slow (Zero To Sixty miles per hour in over Ten seconds) can gain or lose one more point. Another point might be given (or lost) for outstanding conditions, i.e., off road ability or super car credentials.

It's considered the best car that is liked by many people and somersaults all around the track with all the telepathic thrill of a Porsche-911. This makes any driver a much better driver. It is a ten here.

How fast is the Porsche-911?

How fast would you like it to be? All versions sport a turbo charged flat-six engine and have at least 380 horse power and 332 pound-feet of torque. Porsche extracts from the 3.0 liter twin turbo flat Six in the 911-Carrera and Carrera 4.

With the trade-mark sonorous whirr, the flat engine kicks out pavement incinerating force with an Eight speed dual clutch automatic, which provides smooth changes in Normal mode and sharp and quick changes in its Sport-modes, by itself or through steering-wheel paddles. Checking out at 3,355 pounds in the base specification, this 911 might hit Sixty miles-per-hour in 3.9 secs because of launch control, as the high speed clicks in at 183 miles-per-hour.

After that, performance-up grades work like some unreal screws being stiffened around the 911 line-up Cabriolet, Coupe, or Targa. The Carrera 4S and S versions occupy the center band of 911 Porsche performance by having an up-rated flat-Six with 444 horsepower and 391 pound-feet of torque. Collectionistas might enjoy this 911's available 7 speed-manual, a joy to change and extremely rare (and fixed with a routinely locking differential as well).

Quality and Comfort

"Small spaces get fine finishes in the 911 Porsche."

Factors might be gained or lost according to comfort and ease in the front-seats, rear seats, or third row seats (when applicable); bad or good interior storage space as well as luggage capacity; and good finish.

The 911 Porsche has "The Automotive Hall of Fame" front seats and fee boxes in the back to fit its small front trunk. However, it is finished with a good eye for fine detail; therefore, we provide a five here, with most of those factors off-setting each other.

The 911 Porsche sits 177.8 inches long on a 96.6-inch wheel-base by numbers.

Low-slung, form fitting seats greet front travelers in the 911-Porsche. Very close to the ground, they provide a great look at the road ahead, with a heavy steering-wheel to frame large analog gauges and partially block the digital display screens that provide a global positioning system as well as other semi critical features. The seats adjust in several ways, so even 6 footers can fit properly.

Storage space is a bug-bear, starting with more people. Two are meant to fit in the rear easily; however, the back nacelles are very small; they are compressed for storage space for big back packs. The front trunk area's 4.8 cu ft of space under scores the 911 mission: work and gun get priority, although undershorts get delivered ahead.

The 911 Porsche's interior talks about wealth without glopping on glitz. The base vehicle's plastic trim below the dashboard might be forgiven; the highly colored leather-based and carbon-trim on the options sheet should not be overlooked.

Safety Features

"Safety technical's here by the ream; however, the 911 Porsche has not been crash tested."

Is the Porsche-911 a safe and secure car?

The expensive, semi exotic Porsche 911 has not been crash tested by the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration or by the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS) and most likely won't be. We do not give it a safety-rating without that information.

The 911 Porsche has a lot of common safety tech, including an automatic emergency braking system with walking accident sensors. The 911 might be fixed with blind spot screens, active lane-control, night vision camera systems, adaptable cruise control with stop and go ability, and surround view up the price-ladder. The 911's balance control system is also designed to drive conditions; it provides a Wet mode that manages car systems to help with grip in poor weather, snowfall, or ice.

Which Porsche-911 can I buy?

We prefer more spicy, so that we would choose a 911-S with a limited slip back differential with torque-vectoring, flexible/adaptable dampers, 305/30ZR21 rear and 245/35ZR20 front Pirelli P Zero summer wheels on metal tires, and large 13.9 inch braking system with 6 piston front and 4-piston back calipers. We like the 930 Leather-package, with quilting just like that on Porsche's initial 930-Turbo, too.

How much is a fully packed Porsche 911?

Huge spenders might show-off with the 217,650 $ Turbo-S convertible or cabriolet and include all of the options. The 911 increases close to the $-300,000 mark, and that is before the unique GT-3 can get a price or before customized paint colours and trim.

Gas Mileage

"Germany's icon will get affordable gas-mileage."

Is the Porsche 911 suitable for gas?

It isn't bad, thinking about its outstanding performance. The very best of the line up may be the 911 Carrera-S with the Seven-speed manual and Environmental protection agency rankings of Eighteen miles per gallon city, Twenty-five highway, Twenty one combined. At the bottom, not by much, are all Turbo-models that gather scores of 15/20/17 miles per gallon.

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