#Writing Jobs From Home Without Investment

[vatelixx]

Ton 618,

S3-S4ish Spencer Reid x Reader (no mention of gender).

Fluff (no angst… surprisingly). Autistic Spencer (present in all of my one shots bcos it’s canon to me).

──── domesticated time inbetween cases & blind adoration.

Warnings: literally none (who am i???), brief mention of past trauma (Hankel).

w.c: 1.5k

— They’re both nerds who are a little too invested in space. Light biblical imagery & Greek mythology references. My writing has been sufficiently domesticated (dw i’ll be back to angst soon, war is not over.)

Loosely inspired by:

a/n: just giving him what he deserved to have.

────────────

For the first time, in a long time, there is little residing in Spencer’s mind. Beyond warm hands, and soft skin, and the pulse of someone else’s body. Obsessed is one word for it, a textbook definition that can’t truly articulate the ache he derives from the thought of you. Obsessed, fatefully ruined, if this is the work of divine intervention, then consider him, once obstinate in his atheism, entirely, profusely devout.

He’s still thinking about you. What’s new? The memory of your lips pressed against his, the tattooed promise of more, more because it will never be enough. He wants, god when has he ever wanted? Life before appears bleak now, black and white. Academia, pursuits of knowledge, lonely nights and the transient fear of forever being stuck in a cyclical cycle of loneliness.

You think he’s pretty. He smiles on the way home from work, Morgan pressing him, because ‘kid you can’t be that happy for no reason.’ There is a reason, a monumental, life-altering one that waits for him at the door. He likes that, the domesticity. He’s never asked for much, content in his mishaps of intimacy, always baring the weight because he wants needs to be good. For the people around him, for the home he’s carved into his skin, for anything that starves off the decades of isolation.

When he threads his arms around your waist, leaning all of his weight into the contact, you both go stumbling back.

He’s soft. Of course he’s endured more than anyone should, the sharp edge of addiction, the stifling weight of a morbid job that has him fixated, hook line and sinker, compass pointing South every time he’s thrown into the field. But for all of that, he still obtains naive, blinding light.

He burns. Or more so, he warms.

“Hi, hi. Sorry— that wasn’t very eloquent. Can I try again?” He’s halfway out of the door; you have to lean forward, grip his wrist, tug him closer, “Okay.” He laughs, “I’ll take that as a no?”

He’s certain your name is imprinted onto his heart. Carved just for you alone. There is no one else. There could never be anyone else.

That night he falls asleep on your shoulder. Hands interlocked, body splayed out across stressed leather, abandoning his book for the soft drab of safety. There’s a tangled wire of headphones draped between you, knotted further when you pull him, half conscious to bed. He follows mindlessly.

You spend his allocated time off as recluses, abandoning civilisation. No sunlight, his apartment is permanently drenched in molten light. Scattered lamps, balancing off stacked books and messy surfaces. Every morning he’ll wake you with butterfly kisses and the promise of a breakfast he will consistently burn. He’s content, over the moon, to forget the world around him. For it to just be, just the two of you.

Today, as usual, you eat his charred attempt at food. He’s trying, he’s definitely trying, even if the end result is… a health risk. Still, you eat it regardless, without complaint, you eat it.. and then he’s just… kissing you senseless in the middle of his kitchen. Cold tiled floor, and mismatched socks. Fuck, he loves you, he’s never loved someone the way he loves you.

“I’ve been dreaming about falling into black holes recently,” he says when you cradle his face. Pretty features besotted with the sight of you. “Weird. Kinda cool. Please don’t eat anymore of my food.”

“No promises,” you grin, and he has the audacity to pout.

Because that’s not fair, burnt food can cause carcinogens to form, to obstruct digestion and metabolism. “My cooking is going to kill you. Your death will be on my hands. The grief will be immeasurable. I’ll become a hermit, never leave my apartment again. Don’t do that to me.” hands wrapped around your wrists, he preserves the contact. “Please don’t do that to me.”

“Well only because you said please—“

He sighs, audibly, ”You just died, you’re dead, and the only thing you can focus on is a word. A word I very generously repeat, at any given moment.” — he’s polite, he will use his manners, and he will unceremoniously echo please please please to obtain even a fraction of you.

He’s senseless. Too far gone.

You take his hand, press it against your heart. “Still alive. I think?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “For now.”

“You’re dramatic—“

He cuts you off, “Did you know one of the largest black holes ever recorded is 66 billion times the mass of the sun? Ton 618.” Pausing to kiss you (a vital necessity), his hands play aimlessly with your hair, strands sliding through the crevices of his fingers. “Imagine falling into that—“ kiss, “You would die obviously,” kiss, “But it would be a pretty cool death.” Kiss. 

Time dilation, worm holes, cosmic demise, you. Sigh— you.

“It would take over 10 billion years for its light to reach earth.” you say, and yeah. Okay. Just casually recite facts to him. That’s okay. He won’t melt, because he’s a rational, dignified, highly-cerebral adult.

Lie. You always know when to talk, sometimes, sometimes, he gets so lost in thought-loops and spirals of intellectual confusion that you have to draw him back to the present. He disintegrates. Every. Single. Time. One intelligent word and the threads of him are woven tightly around your finger.

”You’re stealing my job. And—and you’re doing it better than me. I’m taking a vow of silence. No more words. I’m becoming a monk. Except, maybe without the celibacy?”

“Whore—“

“For you? Always.” he says, knocking his shoulder into yours, “You’re missing the important aspect to this. Don’t discard my threat.”

“Spence, if you ever stop reciting random facts to me at..” you scramble to check the time, early morning, it’s hard to differentiate the hours when they all bleed into one convoluted mess of intimacy. “At 9AM, we will have serious issues. I might get HR involved.“

He’ll ramble about the laws of thermodynamics. Dedicating hours to the philosophical differences between determinism and free-will. You’ll call him a nerd, and he’ll laugh, muffling your protests with his mouth. It’s routine. Something to fall back onto.

 “Hey! Don’t drag HR into our domestic affairs! That’s—“ he interrupts himself to kiss you, again. Just because he can.

Once he’s satisfied that his lips will ache for the next millennium, he continues. “Anyway. I think we should get old together, and then, when we’re losing our minds, and we can’t tell the days apart, we just.. take a casual trip to space, travel through Ton 618. I’d be scared, so I’d hold your hand when we fall. Getting sucked into eternal darkness would be an acceptable way to go.”

He laughs, “You know, as long as you’re by my side, or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” you repeat, before holding out your pinky. “Deal?”

He feeds his own through yours, “Deal.” 

Yeah, just promise eternal devotion to him. That wont have any lasting, fatal effects on his sanity. It’s not like he’ll cling to it for the remainder of his ephemeral existence.

Later that night, when you’re draped in limbs, skin pressed against skin, you sigh against the warm slope of his neck. “You’re reciting the periodic table in your sleep again..”

It’s a habit. A permanent, engrained idiosyncratic that he’s endured since adolescence. He stirs awake, turning to face you in the hazy light. Features swollen, sleep-soft and pretty. “Was I?” He murmurs, finding the audacity to ask, “What element was i on?”

Because that’s clearly essential.

“Osmium,” you say, tucking strands of tousled auburn behind his ear. “Gonna continue?”

“Mhm— yeah. Iridium. One of my favourites, thank god you woke me up before I got to it.”

You humour his tendencies; you’re nothing if not a condoner of his weird quirks. “Discovered by Smithson Tennat in 1803.” is your response, “The name comes from Greek Mythology, Iris. Two stable Isotopes, 191 and 193.”

There you go again. Fracturing his mind, and stealing his information before it can fall from bruised lips.

He thinks you might be cut from the same cloth. He thinks he was probably just made for you. “I like the way you say Isotopes.” He mutters, “Like the way you kiss. You always take my top lip.”

There’s no epiphany. No sharp blade, dragging, penetrating, skin, forcing you to confront stifled feelings. They’ve always been there. Red string of fate, Plato’s Symposium: Aristophanes’ account of the ‘other half.’ Hero and Leander. It doesn’t matter. There’s only the here and now.

He does this thing. Often. Where he’ll moan into your open-mouth. Fingers sunk deep into your hair, keeping you impossibly tethered to him. You’re not sure what planet he fell from, but you’re glad they deported him, if only for your selfish benefit of circuiting around him.

“I’m in love with you,” the admittance is easy. Maybe the words have always been waiting for you to verbalise, bated breath, inexorably interlinked. Maybe they’re long overdue. Something pleading to be let out. But, maybe, it matters more to wait until this, when everything is soft and untouchable. Fresh, untainted. He’d like to live in your skin.

Here’s the thing, Spencer always thought he would be the first one to say it. Reciprocation was always a fantastical hypothetical, something he could only blindly hope for. But, to have his illimitable feelings, in their extensive capacity, matched? That’s— more than he ever thought he deserved.

He presses his forehead to yours, “Saying ‘i’m in love with you’ doesn’t measure up, doesn’t articulate even a fraction of what I feel for you.”

He’s pretty sure he could die right here, in this one fragile moment, and be happy with everything he’s accomplished.

[rayanjohn]

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[inkedbybarnes]

none of it was fake

bucky barnes x avenger!fem!reader

summary: you've been undercover with bucky as husband and wife. upon returning, he seems to have forgotten that it was all pretend.

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: two idiots cluelessly pining for each other. fluff. usage of petnames such as sweetheart, doll, and baby. lowercase writing.

note: hi, babies. how's everyone? this is my first fic in ages, so sorry if it's not my best one. i just wanted something cute ++ this is unedited & not proofread, might fix it laterrr. still hope you'll enjoy this one! xo

dividers made by @firefly-graphics!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“i can't believe your first kiss happened during a mission. an undercover mission!

wanda huffed, still hung up on the mission you had with bucky weeks ago wherein you had to play pretend as a married couple. there had been a kiss or two during that time, and it felt impossible not to tell your best friend about it when you had been crushing over the soldier for ages.

wanda knew what you felt towards bucky. in fact, she was the only one who knew, or at least the one you shared th information with, and she made sure to ask everything about the mission, even if it took days for her to interrogate you.

“excuse me? that was not my first kiss,” you said defensively, reaching for a cup from the cupboard that you had just opened. “and why are we still talking about this? you and nat already squeezed out every information from me for an entire week.”

“i didn't mean your first first kiss!” she exclaimed, following you around the kitchen as you made yourself a cup of coffee. “you've had a crush on the guy for so long, and the first time you two kiss each other is when you're pretending. that's not how i pictured it at all!”

you had to admit, the mission was sort of a blessing in disguise and a curse at the same time. you were glad to be able to spend time with bucky in ways you've dreamt of, but there was also the horrible reminder that none of it was real. with how avoidant bucky was with you, it was impossible for any of it to happen outside of the mission.

“well, maybe you should stop picturing us doing that sort of stuff. you're way more invested in this than i am, wanda. don't you have your own relationship to think about?” you asked. although you knew she was in a happy relationship with vision, you just wanted her to take a break from all the bucky talk. “when is your man home anyway?”

“my relationship is doing great, so i'm good. i don't need to think of it as much since he gives me everything that i need, and i think of yours because you deserve happiness as well.” she smiled fondly, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “and i'm glad that you asked because this reminded me that vision's arriving with bucky soon.”

“already?” your eyes widened at her statement, completely forgetting that bucky, along with steve, clint, and vision, were coming home today from their mission. “why didn't you tell me sooner!?”

after finishing your mission with bucky two weeks ago, he was immediately sent into another mission which specifically needed him. so, today would technically be the first time you're seeing him again since you last called him your “husband,” which was more nerve-wracking than you expected.

“hey, i'm your best friend, not your alarm.” wanda raised her hands up, defending herself. “and why are you so worried? i can feel your anxiety without needing to be in your head.”

“well, we never talked after.. you know,” you replied, taking a big sip out of your cup. “i know none of it meant anything and that we were just doing our job, but it's the first time i'll be with him normally and not as a pretend married couple. it's kinda awkward, wands.”

“you were able to pretend you didn't like the guy for months, you can do it again for another day.” she answered. “unless you finally tell him what you feel?”

“oh, that? yeah, never happening. i'm not going to risk—”

“there you are, sweetheart.”

there was a collective shocked gasp from both you and wanda, recognizing that voice from behind. except the gasps had different reasons.

you were surprised with his arrival.

wanda was surprised that he casually called you sweetheart.

you turn to find bucky already walking towards you with a smile on his face.

this man never smiles unless he was tasked to do so!

“bucky! you're back!” you awkwardly greeted him.

“yeah, didn't they tell you? i was looking for you when we landed.” he said, pulling you close to him before bending to place a soft kiss on your lips like it was something he'd always done. “you okay, baby? you look pale. did you eat?”

i look pale because wanda is right here with us and you just kissed me while acting like we're dating!

“um, yeah, i'm fine. i'm fine,” you answered, gently pulling yourself away from his arms before he could wrap them around you completely. “can we talk? privately?”

he frowned, worry etched on his face, but he nodded and squeezed your arm softly. “of course. where do you wanna talk, doll?”

“anywhere where wanda isn't there.” you said lightheartedly, throwing a sharp glance at wanda who finally understood what you wanted her to do.

“oh! right, right. i'm sorry, you guys can stay here. i have um..” she paused, thinking of a reason to say. “i have to look for vision anyway. we're supposed to watch a movie together. bye!”

and just like that, wanda was gone and you were left alone with bucky in the kitchen.

before you could speak, bucky asked you first. “what's the matter, doll?”

“what's the matter?” you echoed in a higher tone. “what was that all about?”

“what are you talking about?” he asked, seemingly confused.

“you kissed me, bucky, like it was nothing. then you keep calling me these nicknames.” you reminded him. “we're back home, not in los angeles in our fake house that we used as a fake couple.”

bucky took a step back when he realised his actions, now finding it hard to look at you. “i.. i'm sorry. i completely forgot. i just.. i wasn't thinking. i got used to how we were before,” he mumbled, still finding the right words to say. “did i make you uncomfortable?”

“no, but you made me confused,” you replied. “i'm guessing you got used to how we acted as a fake married couple, but you were gone for another mission. how are you still stuck with the old routine we had?”

“because that's all i could think about,” he answered, now staring at you. “while you're back here in the tower, completely done with our mission, i was thrown back into another one, having only you in my head to pull me back up from the fatigue.”

“you're telling me that you kept thinking about us even when you were gone? why?”

“haven't you?”

“is this a trick question?”

“it's a question to find out whether you like me too or not.”

“you.. you like me?” you blinked. “that's impossible.”

“how on earth is that impossible?”

“because you're always so cold and grumpy around me,” you answered. “i think you're just confused with all the acting we've done, bucky. you don't like me.”

“i was supposed to go on that mission with sharon, not you.” he exhaled. “she volunteered to do it, so she was initially picked. i tried getting out of it, but i had advantages that they needed for the mission to go smoothly. so, i agreed, but in one condition.”

“what was it?” you whispered.

“that you should be my partner,” he answered quickly. “ask me why.”

your heart pounded. “why?”

“because i wanted an excuse to act the way i've always wanted to. i wasn't cold or grumpy because i didn't like you, i just didn't want to scare you.” bucky explained, his hand reaching out for yours. “god, doll. figuring out whether you like me or not has got to be the hardest mission i had to deal with. so do me a favour and get me out of this misery.”

once your lungs found a bit of oxygen again, you finally spoke. “what you said.. you mean it?”

bucky nodded. “every word.”

“well, i like you too.” you tried to bite back a huge smile. “for some time now, actually. wanda will eventually tell you all about my obsession with you. i can't believe we were both worrying for the wrong things.”

“your obsession with me, huh?” he asked cockily, a teasing grin plastered on his face.

“really? i said all that and that's what caught your attention?”

“can't help it. i've been obsessed with you for a long time now as well.” his eyes crinkled at the corners, a little smile gracing his lips while his arm slipped around your waist.

your eyes peeked up at him through your lashes. “does this make it real now?”

“do you want it to be?”

“you're really asking me that?” your chest rumbled. “of course i do.”

“then let's make it real.”

bucky watched you intensely for a few seconds as if he wanted to frame this exact moment before licking his lips and leaning down. you suck a breath, eyes closing as you felt his soft lips meet yours.

you never realised how much you've grown familiar with his touch and affection since your time together as a fake couple.

except this time, none of it was fake.

should we see their time in los angeles as an undercover married couple? 👀

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[priceinjection]

OlderBf!Simon x CollegeStudent!Reader

Kept writing this in my head, finally wrote it down. Could be something, could be nothing

Cw: mostly fluff and domestic goodness, reference to 18+ themes, allusions to Simon sharing Reader with tf141

Olderbf!Simon is quiet and observant. Yes that means he’s often an excellent listener for his chatty little Bird, and notices things about you that you don’t even notice about yourself. That also means he knows exactly when you don’t want to talk. Your brow furrows in that way that he secretly finds amusing,  your lips are pressed in an impossibly thin line. He doesn’t mind when you don’t want to talk, silence with you is just as good as listening to you talk for hours

Introducing him to your friends was…interesting to say the least. You knew the age gap alone would make them skeptical. So Simon did what any logical person would do. He took you and your friends out to a really nice restaurant and got all of you your own bouquets. 

Simon will ALWAYS walk you home from your evening classes, clubs that get out late, rehearsals, anything you got going on. If its dark out he’s waiting outside ever so patiently “not safe for a pretty thing like you to walk alone” (when he’s away on a mission he will arrange for an escort from someone he’s vetting and trusts) 

When he stays with you at your dorm he’s attached to you like velcro. He follows you down to the laundry room and of course sends an especially deadly look to the hockey player who dared to look at you for a moment too long in the hallway

Simon’s heart damn near jumped out of his chest when you played him one of your favorite playlists and it was full of songs he liked at your age (you didn’t have the heart to tell him that your dad introduced that music to you, he was just so happy!)

Simon doesn’t mind when you go out to college parties without him “m’too old for that young crowd anyway” he’d say. He loves watching you get ready and put on outfits are that are far too revealing, he’s not intimidated by college boys and trusts you. Besides, he’ll be there at the end of the night to make sure you and all of your friends get home safe. He takes you to his place though, you were just so cute and needy and he’d hate to keep your roommates up all night. 

He loooovvveeees seeing you wear his clothes, doesn’t matter your size he’s so large you’re swimming in his shirts no matter what. He loves it a little extra when you leave his place to go to classes sporting a shirt with his last name plastered in all caps on the back. 

He attends all of your events. Don’t try hiding them from him, he’ll find out and be there no matter what you say. You BEG him to stop coming after one of your professors asked if he was your father right before you unknowingly walked over and planted a big kiss on his lips, he does not comply with your wishes. He liked the shock and borderline horror on your professors face.

Simon spoils you, he buys your textbooks and if you need extra money for food or supplies it’s being transferred to you before you even get the chance to say no. It’s not just necessities though! He learns all of your interests and you get plenty of gifts related to them all of the time.

Once your friends got comfortable with Simon he was automatically invited to every girls night at the local collage bar. His presence alone kept the creeps away so you and your friends could have fun. Not to mention he always picks up the tab before any of you realize and drives everyone home safely. 

When he talks about you to his team they all get a little too invested a little too fast. Soap and Gaz constantly asking to see pictures of you “said she did something new with her hair” or some other excuse slipping past their lips. Price was more subtle about his attraction to you, quietly soaking up every story Simon cared to share. He’s the first to volunteer when Simon isn’t able to pick you and your friends up from a party, not that Simon would trust Soap or Gaz with the job.

It’s not lost on Simon when the boys start asking “how’s our Birdie” instead of “how’s your Birdie” He doesn’t mind, a small smirk always tugging on his lips. One day he surprises them with “She’s great, finally wants to meet you lot.”  Technically you hadn’t said that yet,  but Simon highly doubted you’d turn down the opportunity to have three additional men around his age fawning all over you.

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.✧༺♥༻∞.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・

A/N: Hello! first post! yay!! I promise these will get better as I find my groove and niche😭 for now please enjoy this stream of consciousness that wouldn't leave my brain

P.S: my lovely friend who pre-read this for me requested a part two immediately with more of the other boys and some more explicit thoughts and concept so keep your eyes peeled for that

[heartsfromia]

critical inquiry — l. jihoon

pairing: non-idol! jihoon x reader

word count: 6,018

genre: fluff, workplace romance, reader isnt tech-savvy, jihoon kinda gives loser (endearing) energy

warnings: valorant (jk), profanities, proofreader? i hardly know her

author's notes: get me an IT guy like jihoon y'all, also idk i struggle when writing in mainly the guy's pov bro i cannot think like a man, can they be pathetic, yearning beings? idk bro

Lee Jihoon loved one thing about his job—working from home. With enough people in his team to cover tasks both from the office and at home, they're given the option to work either and Jihoon always picks home, time after time.

Until today, when Jihoon had received a message that his Work-From-Office buddy would be taking time off work for the next week because his grandfather fell ill, and he was asked to go back home for the time being.

“Only a week, Jihoon, and I swear you can go back to your PC set and slippers,” Wonwoo had reassured him, but it still wasn’t enough, “I’ll even help you rank up to Ascendant 3.”

So, that was how Jihoon found himself waking up at seven and taking public transportation to the office because his car was at his parent’s, and honestly, he wasn’t close with anyone to the point where he’d ask for a lift.

During the entire trip on his first day back to the office, he cursed the corporate slave routine. To think that before social distancing, that we would wake up at the crack of dawn to beat traffic or the commuter rush, go to a job that we’re not even sure we enjoy (spoiler: we don’t), and then have to go through that same rush and traffic when going home, only to sleep and reset the routine for the next day. As an IT support member, being in the office was the most useless and time-consuming thing. The Wi-Fi at his office is crap, the computers are old and laggy because the company doesn’t want to invest in better quality technology, and the team leaders are always breathing down your neck—but, hey, at least they compensate those that choose to come to the office.

One thing that Jihoon was grateful from the pandemic was the normalization of working from home. Having the option to attend the 10AM meeting, waking up at exactly 9:50 AM—clocking in—then joining the Zoom meeting without having to shower, change out of your pajamas, or even get out of the bed was something that was too good to be true. Alas, it happened, and he had been thriving and taking advantage of his Work From Anywhere policy in his company. Granted, he is only able to continuously work from home as long as there were two team members working from office, and luckily enough, that condition was met for the past six months

“This is new,” Hansol quipped when he spotted Jihoon signing at the entrance of the office. “Ah, Wonwoo is taking time off, right?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon muttered, most of his face hidden under a mask and cap, with his eyes peeking through the lenses of his glasses. “Do you think there’s coffee in the kitchen?”

“Obviously,” Hansol chuckles, finding the question obsurd. Can you blame Jihoon? The ceiling in the entrance of the building is almost falling apart from mold forming because of rain, and their computer to clock in was an old ASUS model from 2014 that can only function on a LAN cable—which is why its only purpose in this marketing agency was for signing in.

Sometimes Jihoon even wonders how the company can last for the past decade with its cheap ways.

He made his way to the second floor where the pantry, and overall kitchen was placed, making himself a cup of coffee before climbing the next step of stairs to the IT room—the main base for programmers and the support team. Another thing he hated about working from the office was the fact that the AC in his office just never seems to function. It’s the middle of summer, the city is going through a massive heatwave, and here, in his company placed in the smack middle of the city, they have a policy to not let the AC go anywhere under 23°C.

At least, when he is in the comforts of his own home, he can have the AC go as low as it can get, all while still in his pajamas, and could even multitask with Valorant opened in another tab.

“Oh, Jihoon, you’re switching with Wonwoo, right?” Jeonghan asked, turning in his chair and pushing his glasses up above his head.

“Yeah, I am, where does he usually sit?” Jeonghan taps the desk on his left, and watched as Jihoon got settled, a glint in his eyes that the younger one spotted. “What?”

“Did Wonwoo tell you anything?”

“Other than keeping my Google chat opened, nothing really,” he responded.

“You’ll be handling his division, too, right?” Jihoon nodded. “The Marketing team.” Rather than a question, Jeonghan confirmed the division, and once again, Jihoon nodded. A crease formed between his eyebrows, unsure of what his senior was referring to, and the latter noticed, chuckling at his puzzled expression. “You’ll see.”

It’s too early to understand what he means. Usually, he’d still be asleep right now if he were at home, especially since there aren’t any meetings he needs to attend today, he could’ve slept until three minutes before he required to clock in. He wasn’t use to having to be on work-mode even with ten minutes before his shift officially starts.

God, I miss working from home.

The first few hours into the shift was tedious. Since the company is a small PR agency, as a member of the in-house IT team, he’s required to wear multiple hats and take on various tasks. Unfortunately, since he is replacing Wonwoo for the time being, he’ll be taking on the task of Website management and ensuring that the Marketing team didn’t have any issues, as well as any technical issues the team might face, which is inevitable as their equipment is, as mentioned, crap quality. Every day Jihoon wonders why he claims to resign from the place but never does.

“Let’s grab lunch across the street,” Jeonghan invited Jihoon once the clock had struck twelve, signaling lunch time for all employees. Jihoon was about to agree and turn his computer to sleep mode when a ding! notified a message had come in. He rose a hand, indicating for his senior to wait a moment as he checked the message. He hadn’t received any complaints during the first half of the day from the team he was in charge of so this was a bit unusually for him.

It was a message from you.

Y/N: Afternoon, Jihoon. This is Y/N, and I’m new from Saerom’s team. Y/N: I was told by Wonwoo that he’s currently on PTA, and to message you instead. I have an issue with my Google Analytics account, I’m currently logged out and usually Wonwoo helps me with that because I haven’t been given my password (it’s been two weeks I’ve started 😅). Y/N: Can you help me with this?

“Who’s that?” Jeonghan ducked down, looking over Jihoon’s shoulder as he read the message, then a chuckle left his lips. “Ah… it’s Y/N, she’s a new, and struggles with a lot of the tech things—you’ll be meeting with her a lot.”

“She’s bad with tech and chose to be a social media specialist?”

“Ironic, huh?” Jeonghan laughs. “But she means well, even though she sucks with tech, she has good ideas and already has a viral TikTok video for one of our clients.”

“And she says she hasn’t been given her passwords? Aren’t we supposed to give it to them when they start?”

“Yeah, but usually they don’t ever log out, only she has that case,” he explains, the corner of his mouth lifting before he pats his junior’s shoulder reassuringly. “Just head on over there and help her, it doesn’t take more than ten minutes.”

Jihoon heaved a sigh, reluctant to help because of how tedious and unnecessary and easily avoidable this problem would’ve been if she’d had her hands on her account passwords.

Jihoon: Lee Saerom’s team? Y/N: Yes Jihoon: Alright, wait a minute Jihoon: On my way

“Are you dining in or taking away?” Jihoon asked Jeonghan, while he wrote down the password for your account on a sticky note.

“Dining in.”

“I’ll meet you there then.” With that, Jihoon tossed his cap off and trudged down to the second floor where Saerom’s team should be located. Since it was lunch time, most of the office space was empty, with only the office boy who was busy sweeping the floors from the aftermath of earlier today. He found the main room for the Marketing team fairly quickly, and didn’t have to look far for you as you were the only one in the room, seated in front of your computer, shoulders stiff and hands placed on your lap as if you were starting your first day.

Immediately upon hearing the creaking of the door, your eyes met above the desks and monitors, and for a brief second, Jihoon paused—almost shell-shocked as to finding someone like you working in a rundown company such as this.

“Y/N?” Jihoon called out, just making sure despite the obvious newbie aura that wafted around you.

“Yes… Are you Jihoon? The one covering for Wonwoo?” He nodded, and you were almost sure he’d say something to follow up to prevent an air of awkward silence from appearing between the two of you. He did not. Instead, he barely uttered anything as he approached your desk. You didn’t hesitate to push away with your chair to let him take the reigns and input your account. How you were able to stay logged out of the account and not have said anything earlier was unbeknown to him. You had been finishing up last week’s reports, but had only moved on to Google Analytics just twenty minutes ago. You’d usually have your account still logged in, always clicking the Remember me, however, to your surprise, you were logged out.

“This is your password.” Jihoon handed you the sticky note. “If you need any more help, you can just message me—Wonwoo is on leave for the next week.”

“A-alright.” Maybe it was the way he carried himself that intimidated you. Or the fact that he never made any attempt at small talk, thus, a tense and awkward air floated in the space between you two. Maybe it was his tone, lacking the usually bounce you’d usually hear from Wonwoo as he explained the mechanics of Hootsuite.

It is definitely his aura, it’s ice cold, you couldn’t help but think and maybe when he wasn’t looking, you’d shiver. “Thank you,” you uttered, and with a stiff smile, he nodded and left the room without anything further, leaving you to finish the last half of your report alone.

If you need any more help, you can just message me.

And that’s how it started, a back and forth of at least twice a day since that first exchange between you and Jihoon. At first, you had to introduce yourself again, despite the fact you were using Google Chats and your name was clearly displayed. After a brief introduction, you explained the problem at hand, then after a minute or two came Jihoon’s go-to reply.

Alright, wait a minute.

On my way.

The first couple of times, you almost thought it was an automated response he had somehow coded every time someone messaged him. Maybe he had set it so that after a couple of messages from the sender, it would trigger the short response from his end, however, you learnt that it was just purely him when your own messages grew shorter and shorter.

So, short to the point that this was your most recent exchange:

Y/N: Jihoon :( Jihoon: On my way

Thus, it became almost a routine for the two of you. Jihoon didn’t have any complaints, despite Jeonghan’s claims that the junior would usually complain from having to go back and forth, ascending and descending the same set of stairs more times than he should be. “Aren’t you tired?” Jeonghan had asked on Thursday after Jihoon had returned from helping you with the extension cord for the presentation you had scheduled the afternoon.

Jihoon merely shrugged. “I barely get to exercise with coming in.” Of course, as Jeonghan has been working with Jihoon since he started, he could tell the guy was bluffing, hiding whatever his true intention was behind his nonchalant facade, but he never said anything. Sooner or later the truth will come to light.

Jeonghan wasn’t the only that could tell that was a different air hanging around the avid-WFH-over-WFO tech employee, and whatever gossip that surrounded him managed to reach the ears of the guy he was covering for as the two got into a game of Valorant Thursday evening. As the two waited for a match to be found, Wonwoo informed him that his grandfather was feeling better and could be released from the hospital by Saturday morning.

“Oh, that’s good to hear, glad he’s doing alright,” Jihoon offered, although a bit half-hearted as he was eating his dinner by his desk at the same time.

“Yeah, and by Monday you can return to your world of working from anywhere,” Wonwoo said, a deep chuckle echoing on his end. “And by anywhere, I mean, literally just your room.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I can come in to the office next week,” Jihoon replied without thinking twice, then realized what he said and added, “you can make sure your granddad’s fine.” He internally sighed, believing he made a good save. However, a dead silence hung in the Discord call, even after the loud ‘Match found’ reverberated, breaking the silence for a second.

“What did you say?”

“What?” Jihoon tried to play dumb, then added, “I’m playing Gekko,” to change the subject.

“Did you just say you’re willing to leave the comforts of your own home to work from office?” Wonwoo asked again, clearly twisting Jihoon’s words causing him to roll his eyes. His colleague then added, in a faux tone of panic, “The end of the world is nearing, isn’t it?”

“Shut up and pick your damn agent.”

“Are you even Jihoon right now?”

Jihoon defended himself, “I can want to work from office from time-to-time, you know?” Wonwoo was exaggerating, wanting to work from office is tiring, but nothing is more boring than working alone with only a dumb FPS game there to entertain you every time you’re free. Admittedly, he found working while being surrounded with other people was enjoyable—he wasn’t a social butterfly, didn’t make an effort to start a conversation by the coffee machine either, but it was… nice being around others every now and then. Humans are meant to be social creatures, after all.

“You have been working from home ever since probation had ended, which was literally two years ago, Jihoon,” Wonwoo reiterated, “you have been working from home since.”

“That’s not true.” He frowned, the comment caught him off guard and he almost started the round with buying any abilities. “I worked three days last October.”

“Which was, what? Nine month ago?” He couldn’t rebuttal that. It’s common knowledge among his peers that he despises working from office—Jihoon knows that, too. It’s just that this week has changed his mind. People can change their mind. “I have to bribe you with Valorant just so you come to company dinners, and now you want to willingly cover me for another week? For free?”

An irritated groan shook his chest as his character died on screen. “Damn it—” He pushed to talk, “90 on Reyna.” He fell back into his chair with a sigh, annoyed that Wonwoo was ruining his focus on the game—it was supposed to be his rank up to Ascendant 3. “Okay, and what’s your point?”

Jihoon swears he could hear the guy smirk. “I know.”

“You’re being annoying, you’re distracting me.”

Wonwoo paid no mind to his complaints, hitting clean headshots on the enemy but the spike detonated causing them to lose the round. Despite that, Wonwoo kept his cool as he continued to taunt his colleague. “Vernon told me about your round trips to and from the Marketing team.” He was definitely grinning now. "The problem is, I know Saerom’s team don’t usually need any help from IT support—at least, not to the point to where you need to go there twice a day.”

Jihoon cursed under his breath as he, once again, misses his utility and gets killed barely ten seconds into the round. This time he doesn’t even bother to communicate with his team, in fear of his voice shaking in anticipation of Wonwoo’s suspicions. “Except for one person,” his peer begins, letting the silence drag between the two as he focused on the game, getting three kills in a row, winning the round for them. Then Wonwoo asks, Jihoon picturing a shit-eating grin on his damned face. “Y/N’s cute, isn’t she?”

“I’m forfeiting.” Jihoon presses slash then F, to which it was denied, their teammates sending in question marks in response. Wonwoo’s burst out laughing at Jihoon’s ‘missclicked sorry’ reply. “Focus on the game—if I derank, it’s on you.”

Wonwoo’s laughter only grew louder, letting himself have the last word. “Jihoon enjoying working from office wasn’t on my 2024 bingo.”

Neither was it on Jihoon’s because he never enjoys working from office. Whatever friendly and social air that was present the previous week wasn’t present now as he finds himself at the wrath of the Operation’s team manager.

“I was on a call with Miyoung and she told me she couldn’t access their website, Jihoon,” Eunkwang scolded, his greying brows forming deep crevices disguised as wrinkles between his eyebrows and across the length of his forehead. “You’re supposed to be on top of this—she couldn’t access it the whole weekend, Jihoon, what happened? We’ve never faced this problem before.” Yes they have, Jihoon recalled, it happens when you run an agency that barely gathers clients and doesn’t really care enough to provide quality platform options, either, but of course Eunkwang says the same argument. Talk about selective amnesia.

“I don’t care how long it takes for you to fix it—” Might take half an hour, could’ve dealt with it within the time you’re yelling at me but I’ll shut up, Jihoon bitterly thought but kept his lips pressed in a tight line. “I want it done until Miyoung calls to confirm.”

Once he was sure the old man was done projecting his anger, Jihoon bowed his head, uttering, “Understood.” He turned his body to climb up the stairs to the third floor, grumbling to himself how this wouldn’t have happened if he worked at home because he wouldn’t be tired from commuting and socializing during the weekends and could monitor the websites every now and then. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case because he was tired, and he is still tired, he hates working in the office, he doesn’t even know why he agree to go for another week, he could’ve been at home and in a Valorant Swiftplay by now—

“Jihoon?” He turned to find you, standing by the door of your team’s room, a timid look on your face. Something had happened, he could see it written all over your soft features as you eyed him wordlessly. Without saying anything, he followed you towards your desk, where you idly by your computer with pursed lips and furrowed brows.

The dreaded blue screen. It had only reached 15% and didn’t seem to budge even after three minutes of watching it.

“For God’s sake,” Jihoon cursed under his breath, however, it was loud enough for you to hear it and the unusual sharpness in his tone caused you to jump slightly, your heart beginning to race in your chest as his face contorted into frustration. “How did you manage to get stuck like this?”

“I-I don’t know.” God, you hated it when you started stuttering. It always made you look stupid and helpless. You inhaled a quick breath, hoping it would help calm the nerves that seemed to climb the more you avoided his intense gaze. “I was coming back from my break and turned it on, and it did this… I didn’t do anything, I swear…” If your lack of technological capabilities looked pitiful to Jihoon, your inability of forming a coherent and sensible answer was the cherry on top. “I’m really sorry.”

Upon seeing her stricken face, Jihoon inhaled a deep breath, letting his tensed shoulders fall. “No, Y/N, I should be sorry. I’m taking my anger out on you, you just needed help.” He glances back at your monitor, heaving another sigh. “Just leave it, it should be able to restart on its own, but if it doesn’t, just tell me.”

“Alright…” Would it be even more pathetic to say you were fighting away tears? You had to turn your head a bit, angling away from Jihoon so your hair fell to cover your face enough for him to not notice your obvious internal battle with letting your emotions take over. “I’m really sorry I keep bothering you with not being tech-savvy.”

An ache thumped in his chest hearing your apology, sounding defeated. “It’s fine, Y/N,” he tried to reassure you, but he knew damn well the damaged was done and whatever unspoken agreement to two of you had, had gone. Jihoon knew he was terrible with people, but he really messed up with ruining it with you—the one person that made coming into work, commuting back and forth, and facing nagging higher-ups, the least bit bearable.

It didn’t seem to register in him how bad the damage was until he got through the day without any messages from you. Even Jeonghan was surprised as the day was coming to a close. “Y/N didn’t come in?”

“She did,” Jihoon mumbled.

“And she didn’t need any help?” He only shrugged, trying to hide his own bewilderment. Did his words strike you that much? He decided to message you, just in case you were reluctant to ask him for help.

Jihoon: Y/N Jihoon: Everything alright?

He waited on the edge of his seat, his heart skipping a beat when you began typing back.

Y/N: Yes, everything’s fine ^__^

Everything was, in fact, not fine.

Not only did your computer take almost an hour to restart after the dreaded blue screen, whatever the computer had gone through during said hour had your accounts logged out, and you, being clumsy, misplaced the sticky note that Jihoon gave you, forcing you to borrow someone else’s computer to pull up the Instagram analytics. Fortunately, most of your inputted data was still available from before your break, it was still a hassle to transfer the data from your colleague’s computer to your own, and because, once again, you are tech-savvy, you didn’t know any shortcut. You had to turn to Google, open up YouTube tutorials on Excel shortcuts, consuming almost an hour of your day trying to learn everything from scratch.

But you promised yourself you wouldn’t bother him with any measly problems if Google already had a solution.

Even it meant running into the risk of never seeing him again.

Two days had passed. It was Wednesday and Jihoon was ready to pack up and head back to his old life of working from the comforts of his bedroom. Two days without his favourite snacks. Two days without his functioning PC that he paid hundreds, probably thousands of dollars to build. Two days without his fast Wi-Fi that was optimal for a quick ranked game.

And two days without the usual ping of his Google Chat, the room with you now collecting dust as the last message exchanged was his check-in on Monday.

Now Wednesday’s work day comes to an end without your plea for technological aid. You’re genuinely the only thing in this bleak, rundown, cheap company that makes the work worthwhile, Jihoon couldn’t help but think to himself on the train back home.

Was it pathetic of him to think of you as a reason to wake up in the morning, fight the morning rush and sit through eight hours of blank staring at a computer screen if it means he can get a glimpse of you every now and then when he goes down to get another fix of shitty coffee? The two of you only officially met last week after all, and yet, he has grown drawn to you, attached even, finding the brief sight of you as you sat by your desk, an ever-so-present clueless look to your face as you try to remember how to VLOOKUP the third time. He finds endearing, so endearing that his heart aches and his days grow grey when he hasn’t seen you yet.

Has he always been one to fall so quick for someone?

Would it be even more pathetic for him to fear that feeling? Mind you, he has never left the house unless bribed to, social interactions were scarce aside from the call outs to teammates in his ranked games, and even then, he never bothered to make small talk with the people he’d temporarily need to rank up. Was he a bit too deprived of social interactions that meeting you overwhelmed him to the point of creating a false sense of falling in l—

“Wonwoo, when are you coming back?” This time the two weren’t in a game of Valorant. Thank God, Wonwoo had thought when Jihoon asked to get on a Discord call. The latter had dinner prepared and was watching Big Bang Theory while on the call, but his head wasn’t focused on neither the ramen nor the TV show. “Can we switch back soon?”

“What happened to your willingness to go to the office?” Again, that damned smirk was noticeable in the way he spoke, but Jihoon needed to keep his cool.

“Changed my mind.”

“How come?”

“Sick and tired of being in the direct line of shot for Eunkwang’s spit when he yells at me,” he half-lied. He had to wash his face after that meeting, to the point he used the strawberry-scented hand soap to make sure he couldn’t feel the droplets on his skin.

“Oh yeah, Jeonghan told me.” A pause. “Sorry that happened to you, but it’s just Eunkwang, his ammunition is making you work overtime every now and then.”

“I just don’t want to deal with him every now and then, much rather read him yell in the group chats than in real life.”

There was a longer pause now, Jihoon’s eyes glanced at his second monitor just to make sure his friend didn’t disconnect. Then, Wonwoo spoke up, tone matter-of-factly and the shit-eating grin heard clearly. “Vernon tells me you haven’t been to the Marketing room in a bit.”

“Vernon you piece of shit snitch,” Jihoon cursed under his breath, but obviously his microphone caught it, Wonwoo throwing his head back in laughter.

“I’m guessing the Tech-Illiterate hasn’t been asking for your help?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon corrected, not liking the term used—even if it did fit you.

“Hey, there are a lot of tech-illiterate people in our company,” Wonwoo pointed out, then added, “so I guess you admit it then, you’re thinking of her.”

His eyes roll far back, he gets a mild ache in his temples. “Fine yeah,” he admits with a defeated sigh, “she doesn’t need any more help from me so why should I even bother to go to the office?”

“For work, Jihoon,” he says casually. “I mean, you get compensation to come to work. Extra money.”

“I’m already rich enough,” he responds, clearly dodging.

“Then why work?”

“I’m bored.”

“You piss me off.” Wonwoo’s comment successfully makes Jihoon chuckle. “I hope Y/N becomes so tech-savvy that she doesn’t need your help anymore, and you will never see her again.”

“Asshole,” he hisses and disconnects from the call immediately, Wonwoo’s words pushed to the back of his head as he finished his ramen and closed the TV show, opening Valorant for a quick game to relieve the stress built up for the day.

Unfortunately, once he laid on his bed, eyes stuck on the ceiling, his peers’ words returned tenfold, echoing a sickening mantra in his head. What if you do end up learning how to do your job with little to no help, technology-wise? It’s hard for the guy to admit (and a tad bit dramatic), but he truly did feel like his entire being has lighten since meeting you.

Maybe he is deprived of social interaction, and you were the fix he needed, but didn’t want it to be temporary. He wanted to know everything about you, the reason why you struggle with technology and remembering passwords and working different Google suites. He wanted to know why you chose this line of work, why this shitty company, and why hadn’t he met you before.

He wanted to know more about you, and he doesn’t want to ruin the chances of being able to do so.

Although it might be pathetic of him to feel so strongly over someone he only met the previous week, he knew this would be a missed opportunity to not get to know you better, that it would become his biggest regret and he didn’t want his leaving the comforts of his WFA routine be for nothing.

So, he had a plan. A bit of a cheesy, cliché of a plan, but a plan and he lost sleep wondering if it’ll work or not.

As he entered the office, his mind kept replaying what he needed to do. It was simple, he just needed to wait for you to reach out to him, ask for help with an issue and it should be smooth-sailing from there, all depends on your answer, of course, but that was something he could worry about later.

Phase one starts with you and your uncooperative computer.

Jihoon waited, eyes glancing between tabs where his Google Chat was opened, looking at the bottom right corner of his computer at the time, watching the time tick by and still no ping from you. But that was okay, it was only two hours into this gloomy Thursday, there was still a whole seven hours before he could truly panic.

So he waited more.

And more.

And more.

He waited until he couldn’t wait, and time was running out. Eyes shifted towards the clock: 16.39.

Less than thirty minutes until the work day, and tomorrow is Friday, and he needed to get this done today because if he didn’t then, it’ll mess up his plan for tomorrow (which depends on your answer, too, if you say ‘yes’ then there’s another plan for that, but if you say ‘no’ then Wonwoo was already back in the city so he could cover for Jihoon while the latter wallows).

“Fuck it,” Jihoon mutters as he pushes himself up out of his chair, causing everyone else in the room jumps and turns to his desk, only to see him already out the door and rushing down the stairs.

“Go get her, man,” Jeonghan utters, loud enough for everyone to chime along with him.

With long strides and quick steps down to your floor, everyone Jihoon seemed to past knew he was a man on a mission—a man on a mission for you. He tries to ignore the mild chills that rose up his spine at that thought. He might be pathetic sometimes, but he likes to believe he can be quite the cheesy romantic, despite what his friends might say.

As expected, since it had been a slow day, a lot of staff had clocked out early, their jobs for the day done and all ready to end the work week. However, you were still by your desk, focused on the task at hand, only two of your coworkers in the room with you, but even they were mindlessly playing with their Excel sheets, waiting for the clock to strike five.

When he stood close enough to you, he saw that you weren’t focused on a task, instead on a game of Minesweepers. He watched you win a game, pursing his lips and nodding, visibly impressed. Sensing a present, you turned around and jumped slightly. “Jihoon… Hi.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he greets back with a stiff smile. “Is everything alright?”

A brief look of confusion passed your face, glancing between him and your computer, before nodding, “Yeah, everything’s fine.” And it was. You got through your day just fine, nothing needed to be troubleshooted, or restarted. You didn’t panic, other than when you forget to send a file to Saerom, but everything—technology-wise—was fine.

“Really? I got a notification on my computer that there was something wrong with yours,” Jihoon lied through his teeth. He didn’t, but he needed you away from your computer so he has ample time to put his plan in motion. His statement caused your brows to furrow together, genuinely confused because you didn’t receive any notification from your own computer, shouldn’t that be the case? Unless you did, and you didn’t noticed because you were too focused on your Minesweeper game.

“Oh…”

“Yeah…” Jihoon rubbed a nonexistent itch at the back of his neck. “Are you done with your work? It might take a bit for me to check it.”

“Oh yeah, I’m done for the day,” you said, then to the clock above the door. “I didn’t realize it was almost five.”

If you could hear anything right now, it would be the pounding beat of his heart against his chest as he tries to formulate an excuse to get you off the computer. “It won’t take more than ten minutes, though, Y/N.”

“Alright, I’m just going to fill my water bottle and clean up while you deal with it.” With a stern nod, Jihoon watched as you stood and walked out the room. Once outside, he took his spot and started his plan.

Recalling the steps he saw on Google, opening Notepad as he pulled out the sticky note where he wrote the code beforehand, typing it in and inserting the necessary message. Once he had saved it, he tested it once, and almost yelled out in triumph when it worked, displaying a fake error message.

“What’s the problem, Jihoon?” You approached him, bottle filled to the top with water. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, you just…” He stood from his chair, gesturing for you to sit. He leaned down, keeping one hand on the back of your chair as the other guided you. “You just need to click that, it’s to install a… an update… Yeah, an update.”

“This one? The ‘Critical Inquiry’ one?” Jihoon hummed in response and watched with sweaty hands and a racing heart as you clicked it, an error message popping up on your screen.

Is this how IT guys flirt? The blood in your face travelled the distance to your cheeks, a bright pink beneath the glow of your skin as you tried suppressing your smile, Jihoon’s way of asking you out so unconventional, so out of the blue, so unique, that you couldn’t help but mentally applaud him, this was a new way you’d been asked out.

“What’s your option?” Jihoon asked, his voice so clearly on edge as he anticipated your answer, for a second even worried you’d decline then he’d be forced to return to his hermit habits and hide his embarrassment.

All that tension, no matter how hard he tried to hide it behind a nonchalant façade, was visible to you and gosh, he is so cute.

You sent him a smile, turning back to your computer wordlessly, letting your choice speak. Your cursor hovered towards the options, for a second too long it hovered over ‘No’, Jihoon’s breath hitching in his throat before his heart skipped a beat as the cursor moved and you clicked your mouse right on ‘Yes’.

The two of you stared at each other, a warmth in your eyes, and brightness in his, sharing a knowing smile before he uttered with the confidence he mustered between the panic.

“I’ll pick up at eight then, Y/N.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google is (still) losing the spam wars to zombie news-brands

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT (May 3) in CALGARY, then TOMORROW (May 4) in VANCOUVER, then onto Tartu, Estonia, and beyond!

Even Google admits – grudgingly – that it is losing the spam wars. The explosive proliferation of botshit has supercharged the sleazy "search engine optimization" business, such that results to common queries are 50% Google ads to spam sites, and 50% links to spam sites that tricked Google into a high rank (without paying for an ad):

https://developers.google.com/search/blog/2024/03/core-update-spam-policies#site-reputation

It's nice that Google has finally stopped gaslighting the rest of us with claims that its search was still the same bedrock utility that so many of us relied upon as a key piece of internet infrastructure. This not only feels wildly wrong, it is empirically, provably false:

https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf

Not only that, but we know why Google search sucks. Memos released as part of the DOJ's antitrust case against Google reveal that the company deliberately chose to worsen search quality to increase the number of queries you'd have to make (and the number of ads you'd have to see) to find a decent result:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

Google's antitrust case turns on the idea that the company bought its way to dominance, spending the some of the billions it extracted from advertisers and publishers to buy the default position on every platform, so that no one ever tried another search engine, which meant that no one would invest in another search engine, either.

Google's tacit defense is that its monopoly billions only incidentally fund these kind of anticompetitive deals. Mostly, Google says, it uses its billions to build the greatest search engine, ad platform, mobile OS, etc that the public could dream of. Only a company as big as Google (says Google) can afford to fund the R&D and security to keep its platform useful for the rest of us.

That's the "monopolistic bargain" – let the monopolist become a dictator, and they will be a benevolent dictator. Shriven of "wasteful competition," the monopolist can split their profits with the public by funding public goods and the public interest.

Google has clearly reneged on that bargain. A company experiencing the dramatic security failures and declining quality should be pouring everything it has to righting the ship. Instead, Google repeatedly blew tens of billions of dollars on stock buybacks while doing mass layoffs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Those layoffs have now reached the company's "core" teams, even as its core services continue to decay:

https://qz.com/google-is-laying-off-hundreds-as-it-moves-core-jobs-abr-1851449528

(Google's antitrust trial was shrouded in secrecy, thanks to the judge's deference to the company's insistence on confidentiality. The case is moving along though, and warrants your continued attention:)

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/the-2-trillion-secret-trial-against

Google wormed its way into so many corners of our lives that its enshittification keeps erupting in odd places, like ordering takeout food:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Back in February, Housefresh – a rigorous review site for home air purifiers – published a viral, damning account of how Google had allowed itself to be overrun by spammers who purport to provide reviews of air purifiers, but who do little to no testing and often employ AI chatbots to write automated garbage:

https://housefresh.com/david-vs-digital-goliaths/

In the months since, Housefresh's Gisele Navarro has continued to fight for the survival of her high-quality air purifier review site, and has received many tips from insiders at the spam-farms and Google, all of which she recounts in a followup essay:

https://housefresh.com/how-google-decimated-housefresh/

One of the worst offenders in spam wars is Dotdash Meredith, a content-farm that "publishes" multiple websites that recycle parts of each others' content in order to climb to the top search slots for lucrative product review spots, which can be monetized via affiliate links.

A Dotdash Meredith insider told Navarro that the company uses a tactic called "keyword swarming" to push high-quality independent sites off the top of Google and replace them with its own garbage reviews. When Dotdash Meredith finds an independent site that occupies the top results for a lucrative Google result, they "swarm a smaller site’s foothold on one or two articles by essentially publishing 10 articles [on the topic] and beefing up [Dotdash Meredith sites’] authority."

Dotdash Meredith has keyword swarmed a large number of topics. from air purifiers to slow cookers to posture correctors for back-pain:

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/keyword-swarming-dotdash.jpg

The company isn't shy about this. Its own shareholder communications boast about it. What's more, it has competition.

Take Forbes, an actual news-site, which has a whole shadow-empire of web-pages reviewing products for puppies, dogs, kittens and cats, all of which link to high affiliate-fee-generating pet insurance products. These reviews are not good, but they are treasured by Google's algorithm, which views them as a part of Forbes's legitimate news-publishing operation and lets them draft on Forbes's authority.

This side-hustle for Forbes comes at a cost for the rest of us, though. The reviewers who actually put in the hard work to figure out which pet products are worth your money (and which ones are bad, defective or dangerous) are crowded off the front page of Google and eventually disappear, leaving behind nothing but semi-automated SEO garbage from Forbes:

https://twitter.com/ichbinGisele/status/1642481590524583936

There's a name for this: "site reputation abuse." That's when a site perverts its current – or past – practice of publishing high-quality materials to trick Google into giving the site a high ranking. Think of how Deadspin's private equity grifter owners turned it into a site full of casino affiliate spam:

https://www.404media.co/who-owns-deadspin-now-lineup-publishing/

The same thing happened to the venerable Money magazine:

https://moneygroup.pr/

Money is one of the many sites whose air purifier reviews Google gives preference to, despite the fact that they do no testing. According to Google, Money is also a reliable source of information on reprogramming your garage-door opener, buying a paint-sprayer, etc:

https://money.com/best-paint-sprayer/

All of this is made ten million times worse by AI, which can spray out superficially plausible botshit in superhuman quantities, letting spammers produce thousands of variations on their shitty reviews, flooding the zone with bullshit in classic Steve Bannon style:

https://escapecollective.com/commerce-content-is-breaking-product-reviews/

As Gizmodo, Sports Illustrated and USA Today have learned the hard way, AI can't write factual news pieces. But it can pump out bullshit written for the express purpose of drafting on the good work human journalists have done and tricking Google – the search engine 90% of us rely on – into upranking bullshit at the expense of high-quality information.

A variety of AI service bureaux have popped up to provide AI botshit as a service to news brands. While Navarro doesn't say so, I'm willing to bet that for news bosses, outsourcing your botshit scams to a third party is considered an excellent way of avoiding your journalists' wrath. The biggest botshit-as-a-service company is ASR Group (which also uses the alias Advon Commerce).

Advon claims that its botshit is, in fact, written by humans. But Advon's employees' Linkedin profiles tell a different story, boasting of their mastery of AI tools in the industrial-scale production of botshit:

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Advon-AI-LinkedIn.jpg

Now, none of this is particularly sophisticated. It doesn't take much discernment to spot when a site is engaged in "site reputation abuse." Presumably, the 12,000 googlers the company fired last year could have been employed to check the top review keyword results manually every couple of days and permaban any site caught cheating this way.

Instead, Google is has announced a change in policy: starting May 5, the company will downrank any site caught engaged in site reputation abuse. However, the company takes a very narrow view of site reputation abuse, limiting punishments to sites that employ third parties to generate or uprank their botshit. Companies that produce their botshit in-house are seemingly not covered by this policy.

As Navarro writes, some sites – like Forbes – have prepared for May 5 by blocking their botshit sections from Google's crawler. This can't be their permanent strategy, though – either they'll have to kill the section or bring it in-house to comply with Google's rules. Bringing things in house isn't that hard: US News and World Report is advertising for an SEO editor who will publish 70-80 posts per month, doubtless each one a masterpiece of high-quality, carefully researched material of great value to Google's users:

https://twitter.com/dannyashton/status/1777408051357585425

As Navarro points out, Google is palpably reluctant to target the largest, best-funded spammers. Its March 2024 update kicked many garbage AI sites out of the index – but only small bottom-feeders, not large, once-respected publications that have been colonized by private equity spam-farmers.

All of this comes at a price, and it's only incidentally paid by legitimate sites like Housefresh. The real price is borne by all of us, who are funneled by the 90%-market-share search engine into "review" sites that push low quality, high-price products. Housefresh's top budget air purifier costs $79. That's hundreds of dollars cheaper than the "budget" pick at other sites, who largely perform no original research.

Google search has a problem. AI botshit is dominating Google's search results, and it's not just in product reviews. Searches for infrastructure code samples are dominated by botshit code generated by Pulumi AI, whose chatbot hallucinates nonexistence AWS features:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/05/01/pulumi_ai_pollution_of_search/

This is hugely consequential: when these "hallucinations" slip through into production code, they create huge vulnerabilities for widespread malicious exploitation:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

We've put all our eggs in Google's basket, and Google's dropped the basket – but it doesn't matter because they can spend $20b/year bribing Apple to make sure no one ever tries a rival search engine on Ios or Safari:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/google-payments-apple-reached-20-220947331.html

Google's response – laying off core developers, outsourcing to low-waged territories with weak labor protections and spending billions on stock buybacks – presents a picture of a company that is too big to care:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

Google promised us a quid-pro-quo: let them be the single, authoritative portal ("organize the world’s information and make it universally accessible and useful"), and they will earn that spot by being the best search there is:

https://www.ft.com/content/b9eb3180-2a6e-41eb-91fe-2ab5942d4150

But – like the spammers at the top of its search result pages – Google didn't earn its spot at the center of our digital lives.

It cheated.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

Image: freezelight (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Spam_wall_-_Flickr_-_freezelight.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

[etheries1015]

I had sort of a crack idea of what would the non-human twst boys do if their crush or s/o was allergic to them? Savanaclaw and Octonivelle with like the fur allergy and seafood allergy. Maybe diasomnia’s s/o has some sort of fairy allergy? Sorry if this is too silly for you to write, it’s alright if you don’t 😭

I LOVE THIS BECAUSE I'VE HAD A SIMILAR THOUGHT i'm allergic to cats and i'm like...man what am I gonna do around Grim BUAHAHA...this is a great idea. Nothing is too silly to write my friend!

Non-human Twst boys reacting to a S/O who is allergic to them!

featuring: Savanaclaw and Octavinelle!

general warnings: gender neutral reader, not really proof read \

TW: None! just fluff. and allergies.

Leona

The first time you sneezed around him, they didn't know it was literally BECAUSE of him. This was until you two took a nap together for the first time, and when you woke up he saw your face...Oh, brother. Your eyes were puffy and red, congested, and your nose leaked like nobody's business. He genuinely felt bad about this, but wouldn't let you in on his true feelings/emotions. Without understanding the cause (though he had an inkling) he immediately took you to the doctor.

"They're allergic to me? What kind of shitty nonsense is that?!"

Leona invested in the most expensive of healthcare for you. Allergy pills and whatnot, because he wasn't about to sacrifice his lovely naps with his significant other. No amount of allergy is gonna stop him from getting what he wants, and that is your affection.

Ruggie

"Sooo...basically you're saying you're allergic to me? Cause' im part heyena?"

"It's a little more complicated than that. It's more like...animal dander? I guess?" You didn't seem to certain in your answer either, it was more or less a guess since...well, there wasn't half beast half human where you are from. You can only make an educated guess on why you're so allergic to him based off of the information you had back at home.

Ruggie is honestly so sad about this. He can't afford to get you any treatments or medical help with this, so you two just have to be careful. He does manage to get his hands on some special washing products (probably legally) and takes extra care of what he eats, and how clean he his. He's consistently brushing his hair and cleaning his ears.

"Man i'm such a simp. What's wrong with me?!" ...He isn't used to bending backward for people. But seeing you so sick around him, hurt him even more than his pride, so he of course would do anything to make sure you're as comfortable around him as possible. Ahh...the power of love <3

Jack

He gives me the "I must stay away from you for your own good," Type. Although this doesn't last very long. Jack is incredibly loyal, and he's far too attached to let you go. There's times where he would try and keep a distance (much to your annoyance), but when you began sneezing and itching your eyes you knew he was somewhere nearby. Jack is protective like that, but it pains his heart to see you so sick because of something he cannot control.

He does both a mix of what Ruggie and Leona does. He took up extra part-time jobs to afford good allergy medication for you, the entire works. Pills, eye drops, nasal sprays, breathing treatments...He also invests in high-quality shampoo and conditioner to help rid of his dander and hopefully reduce the amount of shedding he has.

With the amount of hair Jack has, he is CONSTANTLY brushing it and it is CONSTANTLY shedding. He does EVERYTHING under the sun to control this, all for you. Although... this is a partnership! You told him that a relationship goes two ways. You love him regardless of how itchy you may get, and you equally chip in to problem-solve.

You're both loyal to each other until the very end, no matter what trivial matters may get in your way <3

Azul

He knew before you two started dating that you had a severe allergy to seafood, so he made it a point to avoid you. But...that didn't stop YOU from coming to HIM. It was one of the things that drew him towards you, the way even though you were gaining a rash you would still wrap your arms around the back of him. Although it wasn't as bad in his human form, he was always terrified what would happen if he were to unleash his original form.

But worry not! We are talking about the literal king of potionology. He finds a remedy very quickly, and you trust him...a little too fast. He is astonished when he says;

"Take this...the second you drink this your allergies will be something of the past. But be warned-" You grabbed it out of his hand and chugged it. He stared at you with his jaw slacked open, his face turning a deep shade of hot red when you throw yourself onto Azul and place a big fat kiss against his cheek.

He imploded. But hey! his potion worked! He tried to get you to give him some sort of paypack, but you mentioned that your form of payment was in that kiss.

He now demands kisses every time he makes the potion for you <3 It's kind of a silent agreement. He just stares at you after you're done drinking it, and whenever you feign ignorance the point upon his lips is far too obvious.

Jade

The first time you broke out in hives, he remained completely calm. Jade is rather smart, and he understands your allergy must be because of his disposition as a mer-folk. Although in human form, he couldn't help but notice the way you would hide your rashes either behind makeup or by bulking clothing. He was amused by this for a moment, but when he saw it worsen he couldn't help but become worried.

"Why would you go so far for me? what do you gain by allowing yourself to become sick?" When you replied with a blush that you simply liked Jade, thus his shock soon turned into action. He excused himself for a few days to climb mountains and collect the most effective of flowers and medicinal remedies for allergies and put together a potion that you were able to take to alleviate your symptoms.

He isn't the vice house warden for nothing! His talents and magic prowess truly aided him, albeit in a way that was seemingly selfish. It was all worth it for you, though.

But he does use you as an example during a class project in potionology, having you stand up in front of the class while he compares your allergies before and after taking the potion.

He got a 100% in the project. And a Significant other. A win-win for everyone!

Floyd

Floyd is much smarter than he lets on. The moment he hugs you from behind and touches your arm, he notices the rash right away. He eyed it with a frown, and without saying anything he let go of you much to your dismay, leaving you to your lonesome for a few days on end.

You had to admit you missed Floyd, his silly jokes and way of talking, his unpredictable personality, and the attention he would often give y you. While sitting at the table during a free period, your head was propped up against your hand and a sad sigh escaping your lips.

"Ehhhh? Why is shrimpy sitting here all alone? Didya miss me?" A familiar voice teased as arms wrapped around you and something akin to a vegetable drink set in front of you. You gasped and smile up at the tall male, who wasn't wrapping his arms around you as you were used to, typically ignoring the itching of your rashes. He convinced you to drink what he sat in front of you, and although you eyed it with suspicion, you sighed and drank it in one gulp and tightly shut eyes.

Nothing happened. You turned to look over at Floyd, about to question the purpose of making you drink the (surprisingly tasty) smoothie-like liquid but were quickly interrupted by lips pressing against your own.

The kiss caught you off guard and you began to panic, talking about your allergy...before you realized that nothing was happening. No rash, no itchiness, nothing.

"Seeeee? It's a potion. I made Azul make it for me. Now I can touch you as much as I want," He smiled proudly. However he managed to convince Azul would forever be beyond you...

He forgets to give you the potion sometimes, only when you two are cuddling and a rash or itching pops up do the both of you realize it's time for a dose.

Ya'll are so silly for each other <3

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Muzan with a demon that constantly changes to suit their needs (like if evolution was simple and easy to do). if they needed to get away very fast, they'll sprout wings and fly home. If they need to get something in the water they'll become scaley & fishy and breath water.

Seeing as Muzan hates change and has stated so... What if their s/o was like that?

Shape shifter

Paring: Muzan x Demon!Gender neutral reader

Synopsis: Muzan hates your shape-shifting (to a certain extent because I wanna make it cute)

Content: reader is a shape-shifting demon, mean Muzan, some wholesome moments, soft muzan (a little), reader taking on/turning into animal like forms, my stupid humor, Muzan being a cat person.

Word count: 0.6♡

A/n: AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA OMG. I'm gonna write it in headcanons :3

Muzan. Who hates your shape-shifting at random times. Muzan, you and gyokko heard there was a magic lake that healed humans without any medicated water. You heard the rumors, so it was your job to take Muzan and Gokko there. Muzan was about to order Gyokko to do a search drive in the lake but you, decided to take it upon yourself to dive in with the appearance of a half fish half woman, almost like a mermaid to start the search. "They're good!" Gyokko said and looked at Muzan, who's now shaking his head in filtration.

They watched you emerge from out of the water and swim back to Muzan. "I didn't find anything- AHHH!!" You screamed as Muzan began to throw salt on you, knowing full well how sea creatures react to salt. "Change back! Now!" Muzan said, and gyokko tried to stop Muzan, but he also got hit with salt as well.

Muzan. Who will take advantage of your useful blood demon when nessacary. Nakime fell ill, and Muzan needed to get somewhere quickly due to his busy schedule. When you heard your boyfriend master Muzan, needed to get somewhere quickly, the frist thing you decided to do was shape-shift yourself into a harpy. You flew, holding Muzan's arms with your claws and you looked down to see his grumpy/annoyed expression.

"That bird version of hantengu taught you how to do this, didn't he?" Muzan asked, and you nodded happy. "Yes, his name is Urogi," you said to Muzan, but he scoffed. "Yeah. You smell like him, too. Fucking disgusting" he said. You weren't paying attention and ended up crashing into the tree.

Muzan. Who needed you to catch a really fast slayer with yellow hair. The reason? Muzan couldn't stand the bright color, and so you got down on all fours, shape shifting to have the appearance of a cheetah. "When I said get him, I didn't mean like that!" Muzan shouted as you ran off and already stressed out with how stupid you look.

You stopped running and sat down exactly like a big cat. "So... should I turn into a car? I don't think I can do that," you said, bringing your paw to your chin to think meanwhile the yellow haired slayer had run away further. "GO FUCKING GET HIM" Muzan screamed.

Muzan. Who arrived at the main spot in the infinitely castle where upper moon meetings are held. "Oh wow! You really did it! Look at that Akaza-dono," Douma said. They hadn't noticed Muzan's arrival yet, and he raised his brow, moving a bit closer to see what Douma and Akaza were so invested in. Muzan noticed you used your blood demon art to shape shifts into a small cat.

He didn't even know you could ever do that, especially at this tiny size. "Mm. I didn't think you could do it. Good job, I love cats." Akaza was about to pet you when he realized his own hand had fallen to the ground next to you after being severed. "Huh?" Akaza and Douma said, relaxing that you were also gone. They look behind them and froze in fear.

"How dare you touch my significant other," Muzan said, his voice rough as he glares at Akaza and Douma. Before they could explain themselves, they heared loud purring sounds. "...Master. I think you've taken alike to one of your significant other appearances" Kokushibo leaned down to Muzan's height, snapping him out of it to realize his thumb was rubbing your cheek. When muzan realized what he was doing, he just dropped you.

"Idiotic is what it is.." he said angrily and walked away with you still as a cat following him. However, the upper 3 could see Muzan actually found this form cute since they got a glimpse of the blush on his cheeks.

[thesimsresourceofficial]

Addressing the Recent Changes to TSR's Artist Program

Hi everyone,

I’m writing today to address the recent changes to TSR's Artist Program and the concerns that have been raised by members of our community. We understand that these changes have caused a lot of frustration, confusion, and disappointment. We want to provide full transparency about why these decisions were made, how they affect our current and future artists, and what this means for the TSR community moving forward.

Firstly, I want to apologise for the way the restructuring of the Artist Program was handled. I acknowledge that the communication our artists initially received could have been better. It was always our intention to follow up with support, feedback, and advice, which we are doing now. The communications for a loss of badge at TSR is structured, and I understand how this has created confusion and hurt. Please know that we are committed to maintaining an open line of communication with these former artists, we have been following up with all artists affected, and we will continue to support them in any way we can.

Why These Changes Were Necessary

TSR’s Artist Program, which has been home to nearly 200 talented paid artists, had not undergone a thorough evaluation in years. This lack of oversight led to a situation where the program became financially unstable and exposed to significant risk. Without proper management and planning in previous years, the program was not sustainable. If we hadn’t addressed these risks, it would have jeopardised the long-term viability of the program, threatening our ability to fairly compensate artists and sustain the community that depends on their creativity.

It’s also important to highlight that these financial constraints had prevented us from inviting new artists, promoting Select Artists or increasing pay for current artists, leaving over 100 talented creators waiting for up to 3 years for an opportunity to advance. 120 Artists have now finally been promoted, rewarded and acknowledged for their outstanding contribution to TSR, but unfortunately their achievements have been overshadowed by information spreading online.

Why This Was Done

The changes we implemented were not easy, nor were they taken lightly. The difficult decision to let some artists go was made to ensure that the program could continue to operate sustainably and support the 120+ artists who remain with us. Many of these artists rely on TSR for their livelihood, with some coming from countries where the additional support they receive from TSR is vital.

As part of our thorough evaluation process, we assessed the performance of each artist by analysing the value they brought to the platform relative to the investment made in their work. This included reviewing metrics such as engagement with their content per dollar spent. We deeply appreciate the work of our artists, but the financial outcomes unfortunately did not align with the investments that were being made, and we had to make difficult decisions based on these findings to ensure the overall sustainability of the program. In doing so, we were able to fairly compensate all remaining Artists.

Addressing Misinformation

We want to address the misinformation that has been spreading online. Some are claiming that more artists were let go than actually were. In reality, a number of the artists included in these rumors were not let go—they left on their own terms a few months ago. Furthermore, several of the artists who were let go had been inactive for longer than the agreed period and were fully aware of the terms they had agreed to. Some of the named Artists are actually still with us, and have been caught up in this for no reason at all other than by assumptions or a lack of research. It’s important to clarify that this is not a traditional job where someone is “fired.” TSR is a user-generated content platform that compensates artists generously based on their performance on our site.

Spreading incorrect information hurts the 120+ artists who are still part of our community. These creators have continued to pour their time, talent, and passion into their work, and they deserve your support too.

The communications with the former artists ensured they would still be paid for all remaining works they have done with us. It also included that if circumstances ever change, they would always be welcome back as an artist. We do not forget the hard work that has been done, and we do care.

Looking to the Future

Our evaluation process was thorough and took into account numerous factors, including each artist's contribution, consistency, quality of work, and the community's engagement with their creations. We are committed to maintaining a program that is fair, transparent, and supportive of our artists.

Moving forward, we will continue to refine the program to ensure it remains financially viable while fostering the incredible creativity of our artists, to prevent situations like this from happening again. We are also dedicated to providing a community where artists can thrive, receive the recognition they deserve, and be part of a vibrant, supportive environment.

Conclusion

This has been a challenging period for everyone involved, but we believe these changes were necessary to secure the future of TSR’s Artist Program. We remain committed to our artists, our community, and the values that TSR stands for. We hope you will continue to support our artists as we work to build a sustainable and thriving platform for creators.

Thank you for your understanding, your support, and your dedication to the TSR community.

Sincerely, Queenie, Creative Ops Manager, The Sims Resource

[octuscle]

Full investment

Martin had been very lucky in his life. He founded his first start-up at the right time, sold it at the right time and invested the proceeds wisely. Of course, it wasn't just luck; Martin was clever, hard-working and charismatic. And with this combination, he was bound to succeed. The fact that he was extremely good-looking didn't necessarily hinder him. Martin was at every party, Martin knew everyone and Martin was at least one of the first followers of a new trend. If he didn't set the trend himself. That's why he was very annoyed when he got talking to a cool, masculine and sporty-looking guy at a party at the Turkish Embassy. The young stallion turned out to be a rising star in the mixed martial arts world and ran a gym in one of Stockholm's hipster neighborhoods. And in the course of the conversation, Mete asked Martin why he wasn't investing in the fitness sector. Martin was fascinated by Mete's engaging manner. And they shook hands on Martin's entry into Mete's gym.

The press conference was a date to Martin's liking. He was in his element. Not that Mete was not photogenic, but Martin loved the camera. And the camera loved him. One of the reporters present asked if Martin would now train here too. Martin was taken aback for a moment. He hadn't expected that. Normally, he trained with his personal trainer at his gym at home. But this was the moment Mete had been waiting for. He threw a bag with a pair of sports trousers and a pair of gloves to Martin and said it was time for them to train together. Martin hesitated only briefly. He looked good in a suit. But he also knew that he looked at least as good with his shirt off. The pictures of the sparring session were amazing. The success for the gym was overwhelming. And Martin had to admit: this kind of training was something completely different from training at home.

Martin's daily routine changed soon after he joined Mete. Mete regularly picked him up in the morning to go jogging. Martin and Mete often had breakfast in a Turkish café near the gym, and Mete created Martin's new nutrition plan. Mete provided Martin with food supplements, the contents of which Martin did not question, especially since the green packaging only had Arabic writing on it. Mete created a training plan for Martin that required a lot of time in the gym… But Martin was happy to have a real physical balance to his otherwise very stressful job. And at the moment he was only active as an investor, he didn't have to run his own company. So why not give it everything you've got in sport? And he gave it everything. Running with a lead vest, weight training, sparring, technique training… At some point, Martin was practically living in the gym. And Mete and Martin also spent more and more time together. So much so that Martin moved into the apartment above the gym, which he had originally only intended to use as a second home. So much so that at some point he went with Mete to his Turkish barber. And so much so that, out of curiosity, he went to the mosque with Mete on a Friday for the midday prayer. Mete and the Imam spoke a lot and quickly with each other. The two of them smiled a lot. They said goodbye warmly. Martin hadn't understood a word. But for some reason it felt right to be here.

At the beginning, Martin's short hair was the most obvious sign of his change. His increasingly athletic body was also impossible to miss. Martin grew a beard. Martin started wearing a prayer cap. And more and more Turkish and Arabic words crept into his speech. And while he was only sporadically in the mosque at first, a Friday without the midday prayer and without an exchange with the imam soon became unimaginable for him.

Of course, his change did not go unnoticed. There was unrest in his network of companies. Mete advised him to withdraw from the public eye. His social media accounts were dormant. Martin withdrew from most of the supervisory boards of his holdings. This task was taken over by a few guys he had met at the gym, in cafes or in the mosque and whom he had come to trust. Martin enjoyed the freedom he gained as a result. He had more time to prepare for his next fight, more time to learn Turkish and Arabic, and more time to devote to his prayers. Even though Mete had to spend more and more time managing the prospering gym and the other businesses Martin had entrusted to him, he made sure that Martin, who he increasingly called Mehmet, continued to receive optimal training and nutrition plans. And, above all, with the right nutritional supplements. The side effects of the pills and injections were becoming increasingly obvious: a dark fur was growing on Martin's chest and his beard was getting darker and darker.

MMA shorts and thobes… At some point, there was nothing else left in his wardrobe. At most, when Mehmet helped out at the gym reception or when he was supervising at the gym or training customers, he wore a tracksuit. But basically, he no longer felt comfortable in it. Fortunately, Mete gave him quite a generous allowance after Martin had given him and Iman extensive powers of attorney. This allowed him to get through the month without having to work. However, Mehmet still had to work from time to time as a temp at the gym to pay for the expensive nutritional supplements. He didn't have to overcome any great obstacles to do this: he was at home at the gym and he was proud to be part of this gym. And as a trainer, he had close contact with the hottest guys in the gym. Even though Mete was the only one who was allowed to fuck Mehmet, there were enough holes that Mehmet's cock could fill after the wounds of the circumcision had healed.

Hardly anyone recognized Martin at Mehmet's new appearances on social media. If you looked closely, you could have seen Martin's blue eyes in the otherwise more masculine features of Mehmet's face. But hardly anyone looked at Mehmet's eyes. There were other body parts that attracted the public's attention.

Ole had been following Martin's latest investment closely. Martin's new CEO, Mete, was very active in the Swedish startup scene and Mete and Ole met regularly at various events. Mete needed more capital to finance the planned aggressive growth of the gym chain. And Ole was ready to get on board. The business figures were simply too tempting.

The press event to mark Ole's entry into the gym empire was a great success. It was accompanied by the opening of a new gym in Martin's former house. And by the victory of the Swedish MMA heavyweight title by the star of the gym, Mehmet. At the photo shoot, Ole was surprised at Mehmet's good Swedish. Actually, he would have expected less from such a monkey. But never mind, Mehmet wasn't there to speak. The photo shoot with Ole and Mehmet was followed by a training session in which the two men demonstrated their skills. Mehmet did everything he could to make Ole look good. But at the end of the session, he said that Ole could do a little more to improve his fitness. After all, he was now a figurehead for the gym. Mehmet had already prepared something: a training and nutrition plan. And Mete had also already procured a few dietary supplements.

[ceilidho]

you said you hc that the second someone slips past ghost's defences and worms their way onto his good side, he's all in. do you hc being possessive after that switch happens? 😳

oh absolutely, no question about it 🥰🥰

I feel like it's tied in to all the losses he's experienced in his life - when he's able to keep his distance, grief can flow over him. He doesn't have to lock onto it. Ghost is still human and any loss is going to have an affect on him (losing soldiers, people he might've been interested in in a better life, pets, etc), but he can skirt around the pain or avoid it altogether if he's not emotionally invested.

(some nsfw below; breeding kink)

But when someone's actually managed to work their way into his heart? It's game over. That's his person. I don't see him as someone who is overtly physical in his possessiveness (I see that for Soap for sure and maybe Price to an extent), but he'll stare down men that talk to you (or anyone he suspects is interested in you) and use his size as like a physical deterrent.

Also, I know a lot of people write Ghost as having commitment issues and I agree with that to an extent! I think pre him deciding that you're his person, he would be very commitment phobic. Would hardly tell you anything about himself, would turn tail and run if he thought you saw this thing as permanent, and would absolutely coldly put you in your place if you tried to ask more from him than he was willing to give.

But post deciding you're his person, I actually think he'd be very by the book. Obviously he can't get married, he doesn't 'exist' so to speak (ALTHOUGH...that's if the canon Ghost story is actually canon in this new 2022 universe...I don't 100% adhere to his comic book backstory because I feel like his 09 and 22 selves might actually have different histories, but that's besides the point), but he'd want other ways to lock you down while still ensuring your safety.

He'd be very reticent to have kids because it's precarious bringing a child into his world and he'd worry about putting them in danger, but he'd want to keep you somewhere safe and away from where you could be hurt. Like I absolutely see Ghost as wanting to be your provider - paying your rent, getting you whatever you need to be comfortable at home, maybe somehow convincing you to quit your job so you don't have to exert yourself as much. I don't think he'd like the idea of you being wholly self-sufficient/independent.

He'd at least be constantly thinking about getting you pregnant. It would be a deep desire of his for you to be swollen with his baby and a ring on your finger; a visual reminder for everyone to back off, without him having to say it or indulge in any public displays of affection.

He probably wouldn't mention it much at first, but deep into your relationship it's like 90% of his pillow/dirty talk lmao. He wouldn't be able to come without at least touching your belly at some point. Afterwards, he would just be tracing his finger around your bellybutton, staring wordlessly down at your stomach. Depending on if you're still using condoms or not, he wouldn't be able to resist pushing his spend back inside you :\\\\ maybe just the slightest bit regretful that he can't actually get you knocked up.

[angelltheninth]

Can you write WUWA men going undercover as a couple with a fem reader?

Love a good undercover mission. One of my favorite spy tropes. So juicy.

Pairing: Aalto, Calcharo, Geshu Lin, Jiyan, Mortefi, Rover, Scar, Xiangli Yao, Yuanwu x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, secret mission, undercover, fake relationship, real feelings, kisses, nervousness, pining, dressing up

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Catching feelings while undercover... a real issue.

Aalto is good at keeping his feelings to himself. After all he doesn't get to be an information broker without having a good grasp on his emotions. However he is still very protective of you while you're on a mission, as a husband should be of his wife. Even if it's fake, or at least fake for now.

Calcharo has his mind set on the mission and only the mission at first. While he keeps an eye on anyone who might be against him he can't help but keep an eye on you two. He really should have went on this mission alone. Because having you here, it's distracting, and you're making him feel so many things he never thought he would.

Geshu Lin doesn't mind having you there. Actually he really likes having some company again, after going on so many missions alone. Your pretty face can only be a boost on this mission, everyone will be busy looking at you. He didn't take into account that he would get jealous of the attention you were getting.

Jiyan flirts with you really heavily to sell the idea that you're his lover. There's no doubt that he enjoys it, he enjoys it when you blush when he whispers into your ear or pulls you close. When you blush and pull away from he he chuckles, commenting on how cute you are. You should go on more missions with him, you make them fun.

Mortefi wants to make sure you look the part, you need to be all dressed up. So of course he has you try on a bunch of different outfits before you go undercover. Deep down he likes them all but settles on one that leaves your back open. While helping you zip it up he kisses the small of your back, knowing it would be covered.

Rover is pretty flustered about the whole thing. When you hold his hand, or are wrapped around his arm he really has to focus on looking at something that isn't you. He stumbles over his words a few times too and you have to save him. The mission goes well but he can't look you in the eye for the rest of the night because of it.

Scar brags about how pretty you are. Not that it's not obvious to anyone who looks at you but he seems more invested in that than the actual mission you're on. You have to drag him away to complete it and accompanies that with a crude joke as you're leaving. It's not fun if he can't tease you while he has you all to himself.

Xiangli Yao needs to focus really hard on doing anything but staring at your lips. Oh he wants to kiss you so bad but he can't, not now. It would be wrong to do it under the guise of a lie, a mission, a job. No, he would much rather wait for it to be over, to walk you home, to thank you and then ask if he could thank you with a kiss.

Yuanwu remains a gentle man through the whole mission, even if you try to flirt with him a bit more. Naturally he does say good things about you, his wife. Hearing himself say these things makes him yearn to have that kind of relationship. One day he can try it with you, because there's no other woman he would rather marry.

[damiansgoodgirll]

can you please write an Damian Priest X Fem Reader Story where Reader was in a toxic relationship and Damian helps her with the trauma from the past?!

damian priest x reader

likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed!!

‼️ mention of past abusive relationship, damian being a softie , mention of verbal abuse and violence

behind closed doors

you’ve been in love before but you had no idea how it feels being loved.

you were in a happy relationship, or so you thought. but happy relationships aren’t made of lies, cheating, violence and hate.

you didn’t know what made him change his behaviour towards you. during the first months of relationship he was kind and loving, and suddenly he changed.

he blamed it on you being away for too long, he didn’t like that. he knew that you were doing an important job, working for wwe meant investing most of your time in your job but it was all you dreamed of.

you graduate in journalism just for that main reason and when you were offered the position of hosting some wwe programs after the main events you couldn’t say no.

you made so many friends that in all reality, were like a family to you.

but your ex didn’t like that, so he made you quit. when your colleagues noticed your sudden behaviour change, they started asking questions you didn’t want to answer. when they saw how you changed your wardrobe, they started investigating in your private life a little more and you hated that, and an escalated fight with your ex made you quit your dream job.

all because of him.

“let me know when you’ll stop whoring around” he said, with such a low voice that made you shiver.

“i’m not…”

“you’re not?” he laughed “yes you are!” he raised his voice at you, again “i see the shows you are hosting, i see all the wrestlers flirting with you and you, like the good whore you are, doing nothing to stop them!”

“it’s part of the job, i’m not flirting with anyone!” that was your first mistake, raising your voice back at him.

“so you’re saying i’m a liar” he went, gaslighting you.

“no - no, i’m not saying that…” your voice smaller “i’m just saying i’m doing my job, i’m a journalist and that’s what i’m doing…”

“now, hear me very well, you’re quitting that job and you’ll stay here at home, waiting for me when i come back from work, like the good wife you’re going to be one day” he smiled at you, making you shiver again.

“i’m not quitting my dream job!” you screamed back and before you could move, slap. a loud and strong slap to your face.

“scream at me again bitch! you’ll be six feet under ground next time” he screamed, before leaving the room and leaving you standing there, frozen on your spot.

so you did what he threatened you to do. you quit your job. without giving explanations.

all of your friends texted you, tried to reach you in some way but you never answered back.

he was controlling your phone, who you called, who you texted, what you posted on your socials. he became too invasive that at some point, you weren’t allowed outside without him.

rhea and damian, your best friends became worried about you, especially when they didn’t see you at the airport when you were all supposed to leave together for the european tour.

“what you mean she quit?” rhea asked jey.

“i don’t know man, she did. no one told me anything else. she simply quit without giving any explanation man…i’m worried for her, she wasn’t the same person anymore” jey said, making feel damian more insecure.

damian had a crush on you. he did from the first day he saw you, and he was heartbroken when he found out you had a boyfriend. but he didn’t want to ruin your relationship so he was okay with just being friend with you.

he was the first person to notice about your sudden change. the dress you wore were more covering - not that he minded what you were wearing, but he loved your coloured and crazy style that he was kinda shocked to see you wearing black long sleeve dresses everyday. he noticed the way you talked less and smiled less, he noticed how you stopped going to the gym with rhea, he noticed that you would eat less and less and alone.

he knew something was up, he just didn’t know what.

and now, the news that you quit.

he knew he had to reach out to you once he came back from the tour, even if it meant breaking your house down.

two weeks into the european tour and he finally was coming back home with all the crew. while being away he tried to call you many times but he was always sent to voicemail.

“i can’t do this anymore…something’s wrong, i can feel it” damian said to rhea once he was driving back to his home.

“you wanna go check on her?”

“not now…she’s probably asleep. i’m going tomorrow, when she’s home alone…” he said, gripping stronger at the wheel.

rhea just nodded, knowing that talking about you was hurtful for damian.

and so the first thing damian did was to wait until you were home alone. when he saw your boyfriend leaving was the moment he stepped out of his car and knocked on your front door.

his heart broke when he saw your face.

you had a purple bruise covering half of your left cheek and your eyes, they didn’t sparkle like they used to do.

“y/n…” he sadly smiled at you.

“dam - damian, what are you doing here?”

“i wanted to check on you…” he said and you softly smiled, letting him inside the house.

“i’m good damian, how are you by the way?” you tried to avoid the conversation that was coming.

“you’re not good y/n…what happened to your cheek?” he asked, a little too worried.

“oh i fell” you said causally but damian wasn’t having any of it.

“definitely not a bruise from a fall…y/n, can you please look at me?” he asked you softly stepping in front of you.

tears were already forming in your eyes.

“did he do this?” was all he asked before your eyes betrayed you and you let those tears fall “oh sweetie…” he whispered before wrapping his muscular arms around you.

it’s been a long time since someone hugged you like that and you didn’t want to let go. you felt safe in his arms but you knew it was coming to an end.

“is he the reason you quit your job?” he asked and you nodded, too scared to speak “look at me love…” he softly smiled, gently wiping your tears away “you’re coming with me…i’m not letting you stay here okay?”

“i-i can’t damian…”

“yes you can love, i’m not letting you stay here with that dick…he doesn’t fucking deserve you, not after this, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize what was going on before…”

“its not your fault dam” you said.

“so…are you coming with me?” he asked, hopeful.

“o-okay…”

“i’ll help you pack love…you’re staying with me for all the time you need okay?” he gently asked you and you nodded.

when your boyfriend came back home and saw that all of your clothes were missing, he went crazy. he knew he would have happened sometimes but he never thought that you would actually leave him.

he tried to call you and text you but you blocked his number. damian even turned your phone off so you could focus on your self a little more.

damian was so kind and patient with you. he firstly offered you his own bedroom but you couldn’t accept it, so he gave up and gave you the guest bedroom. the first few nights were completely nightmares, you couldn’t fall asleep and every time you did, you would wake up with a scream. but damian was always there for you, he helped you calm down after a bad dream, he held you if you wanted him to do so, he wiped your tears away everytime you woke up crying.

he was always there for you and you couldn’t be more grateful.

of course - if damian knew, rhea knew. you wanted to keep it a secret, the whole “violent boyfriend thing” - you didn’t want people to know about it.

eventually hunter found out and he was more than happy to give you your job back. he even suggested that you would be accompanied by guards from home to work and viceversa.

but somehow your ex found out too. he saw you were back working on tv, he saw you were enjoying more time with your friends again and he couldn’t accept it, so, after a failed attempt of breaking into damian’s home, you had to ask for a restraining order.

damian was always by your side, trying to give you your own space but keeping an eye on you.

you’ve spent two months now with him, and, even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself you were falling for him, more and more every day. you weren’t used to be treated with such love and care, and all damian did was natural for him.

but even if you were feeling better the nightmares never stopped.

“no, please don’t” you screamed but your boyfriend was just staring at you with a mischievous smile.

“don’t what uh?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“don’t hurt me please, i-i will do anything you want to but please…don’t hurt me again…” but no matter how you begged, he wasn’t listening and so his strong hand met your face once again.

you woke up with a loud scream and damian, being only two doors away from you, came running to your bedroom.

you were heavily breathing and your eyes were full of tears.

“hey hey it’s okay…” he whispered gently sitting next to you.

you involuntarily flinched when you heard him talking.

“it’s me amor…it’s me, it’s damian…” he softly talked to you “breath with me…let’s breath together okay?” and you did as he told you.

his hand softly reached your face and wiped away your tears. you melted into his touch and he felt that. he wanted to scream how much he loved you but he didn’t want to scare you away.

“i’m sorry for waking you up…go back to sleep” you apologised.

“i’m not leaving you here…don’t apologise for this”

“i don’t want to keep being a burden for you and-…”

“stop it right there…hermosa, you are not a burden for me, you’ll never be a burden for me, you’re…i care for you, so much…i-i” he wanted to say he loved you but couldn’t “you will never be alone okay? i’ll be here for all the time you need me to”

“can you please stay here with me until i fall asleep?” you shyly asked him, hating how vulnerable you sounded.

“absolutely love…come here” he laid down and let you lay in his arms, the place where you felt more protected.

“thank you damian…i mean it”

“there’s nothing to thank me for…”

“damian…”

“yes?”

“i care for you too…maybe more than a friend should” you confessed “but it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, i just wanted to let you know, nothing would change our friendship”

“i want to change our friendship though…i wish we could be more than friends” he confessed too, making your heart skip a beat.

“what?”

“you heard me right y/n…i like you, a lot. i’ve always liked you but i didn’t want to interfere with your relationship, if i only knew what was really going on behind closed doors…i won’t rush you to do anything…we’re going slow if you want to…”

“i want to damian, i want to have a relationship with you i just” you were scared honestly “i’ve never been loved before, i don’t know how to love again…”

“it’s okay y/n…it’s okay…we’ll take things slow love”

“thank you damian…” you thanked him “but…i would really like to kiss you now…”

“we can do that” he smirked making you smile. his soft hand caressing the cheek where once there was a huge bruise, he leaned over you and captured your lips over his big ones. the kiss was soft, full of warmth and love that a tear of happiness fell from your eyes.

he smiled into the kiss, making you smile too.

“i liked that…” you confessed making him chuckle.

“good night hermosa…sleep well” he said when he saw you yawning.

his hand scratched your head, making you fall asleep faster than ever, his arms around you making you feel safe.

[gorgeousgust]

JUST A HEALER. - K.B

Pairings: (Kaz Brekker x Reader) A/N: Hey Everyone! I hope you all are fine and feel good. May goodness be with you… So this is a new fiction of mine. About Kaz Brekker… Well, I was so stressed about my studies so I wanted to write something to keep my mind occupied. English isn’t my native language, as reminding it again, I might have mistakes. If you saw it feel free to correct it with kindness of course! I hope you’ll like it. There will be a part two. Warnings: Kidnapping, Pekka Rollins, mention of Kirigan. It is mostly based on the first season of the series but I changed things. Word Count: 1.997

You can read the last part here: More Than A Healer. - K.B

A soldier, a healer.

That was all you were to him. A soldier, a healer. Well, the story of you and his crossed in a different path. You escaped from the Little Palace and took a ticket from an unknown ship, with that you went overseas.

As the ship sailed to the shore of Ketterdam, the city where every young-blooded Ravkan wanted to see, you were finally there. Freshly dressed and eager to see a new world. Other than forced to work under king’s command. Well, the missing state you were in probably put a traitor stamp on your name but you didn’t care.

Your parents died, because of Ravka. Because of their policies about taking Grisha’s away from their parents. Your parents die because they never wanted you to be taken from them. They died, because you were a Grisha… You blamed yourself for it from such a long time. But in reality, the blame wasn’t on you, it was on them.

A week passed since you were in Ketterdam, hiding your powers and blending into public. Well, it was safe to say that you were expecting difficulties. You had nothing so it would obviously difficult.

However as the weeks passed, you were able to find a shelter to stay, foods to feed yourself and a job. Well, you were taking care of wounded people, they thought you were talented. Not a Grisha. They thought this woman, you, are just talented and hardworking about what you do. But inside of every touch of yours, you were slowly recovering them faster.

Of course, you bandaged them, cut them, stitch them, clean their wounds but without the people of Ketterdam’s knowledge, as every slight touch of your fingers did the magic.

However, as you were so good at what you do, people talked. Pekka Rollins, offered you a job which you declined smoothly a time. He was pissed but you told him you work openly. But you treated his wounds so that’s why you were still alive.

Even Pekka Rollins didn’t realize you were a Grisha but a certain man, who likes to stay in silence and sees everything in a different gaze, such as reading between the lines, he noticed it.

That night you were going to your home, you heard a sound. It terrified you, so you touched your gun. Then you understood the sound of the cane, was on purpose.

The alley was empty. It was just the two of you, you thought. “It is not a daily thing you see a Grisha in Barrel.” As hearing his words, you turned to him slowly.

“Who are you?” You said to him coldly. He looked at you ruthlessly. As you were looking at his eyes, it was harsh, you felt goosebumps. “The right question is… why a Grisha is doing in the Barrel, Miss L/N?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “I don’t know who you are, but you surely are mad.” He smiled to that. But the smile didn’t match his eyes. “I wouldn’t say that.”

He stepped firmly into your way, you didn’t back away. You wouldn’t show any weakness to him. You were a soldier.

“There’s no need for fighting, I present you an offer.” You looked at him with curiosity after hearing his crooked voice. “I’m listening.” You said firmly.

“You can work for me, and I’ll keep your secret.” You looked at him bitterly. “I don’t work for anyone.” You looked at his eyes. “Believe me, Miss L/N, in the Barrel, a woman like you would be a great investment.” He stopped briefly. “I have been watching you, and it wasn’t hard for me to understand of your little powers.” He looked at you so smoothly.

“Bold of you to assume, that I’ll work under you.” You said it confidently. He looked at his gloves for a moment. “If they finds out you are a Grisha, you won’t last long.” You squinted your eyes. “Is that a threat?” You said.

“No, it is just a warning.” His glances wasn’t disturbing it was frightening. “I give you a day, you can find me in the Crow Club.” Then he disappeared into shadows without even waiting for you to say anything.

After that night, you thought many things. You didn’t know the man, so you pulled strings and searched his name. The Dirtyhands. Bastard of the Barrel. The owner of the Crow Club. Kaz Brekker.

Kaz Brekker.

The Dirtyhands.

He had people work under him. The Wraith, The Sharpshooter… The Dregs. The informations you learned about the infamous Kaz Brekker, led you to his Club.

As you stepped into the Club, it was lighting with warm but sharp colors. You heard every laughter on gambling tables. Some smiling like devilishly, some whine in losing.

You stepped surely to inside. As your gaze fell upon to the upstairs, your eyes met in a brief moment. From the moment you stepped inside to the Club, he knew you arrived.

He made a small gesture, the way his face turned slightly to side, it was a gesture for you to come closer.

You walked slowly into his way, as he lead you to his office. Your gaze wandered the room. The walls were covered in a thick layer, the furnitures are covered in black as the way he dressed. The room looked tidy but his desk was filled with full of papers which looked pure chaotic.

The light of the room was dim. It was weirdly calming but as his body turned to you, your gaze met his. He looked like a wall. No emotion, not even a slight expression.

As you looked at his face, two days ago, looking at him briefly on the streets was not enough for you to look deeply into his features.

Now that you see him, well, he looked beautiful. In a disturbing way, he was looking good. Except for the fact that, he knows your secret and he is threatening you. Also, adding the fact that he is the Dirtyhands. You heard rumors about him before.

“So, you heard about me.” As he broke the silence, you nodded. “The Dirtyhands.” You said with a straight impression. “I heard about you.”

He leaned back on the edge of the table. “Then you heard all the things they said about me.” He replied.

“Look, Mr. Brekker, I don’t work for people. I don’t want to make enemies.” He almost laughed at that. “No, Miss L/N, the clear thing you don’t understand is…” He paused briefly. “Eventually, when people find out who you are, you are not gonna survive a day in here.” He looked at you sharply. “I won’t expose you, but, imagine if Pekka Rollins finds out?”

As he said it, you turned your gaze into one of painting on the wall. “Okay..” It was reasonable. You turned your gaze back to his. “I’ll work for you but under one condition.” You said. “I want a good check.” He looked at you.

“Then we have an agreement.”

-

Yeah, after that day a year passed as you worked under the Dirtyhands. Well, he didn’t trust you a bit and you weren’t trusting him too but you just had to trust the promise he made.

You were clearly a good asset to him. You treated Inej and Jesper’s wounds. Other members of his crew too. Also you were a great soldier so when a mission arrives, after some time of him trusting you about coming to his thefts, you were quick, strong and loyal.

He even gave you a new identity. Helped you to have a new identity in Ketterdam. So, you wouldn’t suspected to be a Grisha, a Ravkan.

But Pekka Rollins wasn’t happy about the idea of you working under the Bastard of the Barrel, which caused you some headaches. However, Kaz was cautious about everything.

A soldier, a healer.

You were all that to him. Well, you got along with Inej and Jesper. They had unique characteristics. You could feel the joy around Jesper while feeling safe around Inej. She was quiet but she made you feel comfortable.

You can’t say much things about Kaz. He was complicated. Never trusting you much, always prepared for everything and too cautious, too careful. As you observed him through the months, you saw how he deprived himself from touching. You saw the sour face of his after someone in the crowd bumped him with no intention. They thought it was just Kaz hated people. But to you, the way he looked with every little touch the furrowing brows of his tells a different tale.

Which you were curious about it. However, you never had the intentions of learning it. So you slipped the thought away and got along with your life.

You were walking around the corners of the Barrel, you wanted to be alone, as you blended in with the others, the crowds noise was silencing your thoughts. Well, under Kaz’s command, it wasn’t very easy but you felt safe and powerful. The threats of Rollins wasn’t new, but it didn’t scare you that much. Since you were a traitor in Ravka. You flied away from there and left the Army.

Of course, over the time passed Kaz learned why you were in Ketterdam as you told him the story of your life. You thought he would judge you but he was no better man. So he just didn’t mind it.

You earned his respect with how much you cared for his crows. How you treated their wounds after a fight very gently and how you were loyal to him and his team. It didn’t slip from his gazes.

As you turned around the corner, you felt a pair of hands grabbing your mouth harshly. You panicked just for a second. Then you tried to fight back to the man who held you tightly. You took a knife out of your pocket and hit him on his belly, as he whined in pain, you freed yourself from his prying hands. As you turned to look at the man, you heard a strong accent.

“I can say, I was very disappointed to hear you began to work under- Mr. Brekker, aye?” As you heard his voice, you turned to the owner of the voice. Pekka Rollins.

“What do you want?” You said sternly. He approached to you. “It is such a clever move, I say,” He looked terrific. As meeting his gaze, Pekka’s gaze didn’t seem to move away from you. “Hiring a healer? A Grisha.” He smiled. “A traitor…” You look at him disgustingly.

“Well, I don’t know what you are talking about.” You said it dumbfounded. He looked at you with range. “What should I do to you, Dame Blanche, huh? Or should I say… Miss L/N?”

You looked at him with anger. “I don’t care what you’ll do. I won’t back away from a fight.” You said it confidently. He looked at you with smug smile. “Oh, I won’t do you harm, The Black General, I think he is going to do.” You looked at him disbelief. As two of his guy grabbed your shoulders, you fought to get away from their grip but you couldn’t succeed.

Pekka approached to you and squeezed your cheeks in a hurtful manner. “After what would done to you, you are gonna regret to work under that bastard, lass.”

The next minute, you felt pain on your back as slowly, your vision blurred and your eyes went black.

As couple of hours passed and you opened your eyes, the sharp pain on your head was making you feel uncomfortable. You tried to open your eyes but your eyelids were too heavy and you feared.

What if Kaz couldn’t find you?

What if Kaz wouldn’t find you?

What if he doesn’t care about your sudden disappearance?

What if he,

if he thinks you betrayed him too?

[snoopyearss]

Hi dear ! I am so in love with your Nanami Kento writings that OMG I am crying (it's tears of joy no worries) I just love this man so much ! I was wondering if it's okay for you to write a request where Nanami dates or marries a fem! Shy reader ? How would he flirt ? As she also slowly gains confidence to initiate things with him cause his presence is so comfy for her.

It can be just all fluff or with tinges or spice/nsfw if you are okay with writing it.

Just wanted to thank you again for your stories and can't wait to read more Nanami posts. You're awesome! 🩶

Hi angel! I’m so happy you love my writing! This is such a cute concept and honestly, I see him with a shy partner. I hope I did it justice! 🖤

CW: some smut!

It was a rainy afternoon, you were cooking you and your boyfriend dinner and swaying your hips along to some smooth jazz he played on the stereo. You looked over to him, fully invested in the book he was reading. You smiled as you walked over to him and crawled into his lap.

“Hi honey,” he chuckled. “Hi,” you snuggled up against his chest. “Dinners’ almost ready, I just placed the roast in the oven.”

“It smells wonderful.” He kisses your nose, he knows it makes you weak every time. You both start at each other for a while, something you guys like to do.

“You’ve grown more comfortable around me,” he pointed out. “I have?” You sat up in his lap. “You have. Do you remember when we met?”

You pretend to look clueless since you loved it when he would tell the story. “I’m assuming you would like me to tell the story?” You nod your head in excitement as he chuckles and holds you tight in his arms.

Flashback

When Nanami Kento first met you, it was at a local coffee shop you would frequent. You would see him walk in around the same hour every time you went; 7:30am. The both of you didn’t know each other very well, he would give a “good morning” and you would smile in response. It wasn’t very often you saw a man that attractive so it made you nervous. Even if it was just a simple act of hello.

On this day however, you were running late to your job and didn’t have the time to make yourself a cup of coffee. You grabbed your keys and went straight over to the cafe, refusing to deal with your coworkers on an empty stomach and no caffeine.

“Hello, may I have a-”

“Can you speak up? I can’t hear you.” The cashier interrupted you.

“I’m sorry, um…May I have [your order] please?” You requested as the cashier heavily tapped on the screen. “Will you be paying cash or card today?”

“Card.” You opened your bag to look for your wallet.

It was nowhere to be found.

“Shit.” You mumbled to yourself. You fished around in your purse to find any loose change, but no luck. “No way, I forgot my wallet..”

“Ma’am, you’re holding up the line.”

“I’ll take care of it.” You heard a warm sultry voice speak from behind you. You turned around to find that same handsome man who comes in regularly. Your eyes shift to the left wall and stare at the clock. 7:30am. They then shift back to his big chest, causing your face to heat up.

“O-Oh! Um, you don’t have to! I’ll just come back later, no big deal.” You softly replied. You couldn’t look him in the eyes without stuttering. “I insist, I know what it’s like to not have your daily caffeine intake. I’ll take the green tea with a blueberry muffin as well please. Just combine our orders together, Thank you.”

You softly thanked him and looked down in slight embarrassment. The both of you went to the pick up line and waited for your orders. “Thank you again. I will pay you back every dime.” You promised.

“There’s no need. Any thing for a gorgeous woman like yourself.” His compliment made you eyes widen a bit and cause your face to heat up.

“My name is Kento,” he stuck out his hand to shake yours. “Y/n.” He smiled, he thought your name was beautiful. From that point on it changed the trajectory of your relationship with him.

You found yourself going to the coffee shop instead of making coffee at home, purposely going so you were just in time to see him. And he would be there to see you. He would pay for your coffee and pastry just so you both can talk about the most random things while you wait for your orders. He never made you pay for it, that wasn’t up for discussion.

It got to a point where you both would come in an hour early just to have time to sit and talk with each other. Nanami is a very organized well thought out person. Before making any big decisions, he thinks them through completely. But with you for some reason, you made him not question anything and just go for it. He knew you were a shy girl, based off of what he had seen. So he tried to make his advances as subtle as possible.

“You know Y/n, you’re such great company. I would love to take you on a date,” your eyes widened. “A date?”

“Yes. And as much as I love out coffee talks, I want to take you out. When we can have all the time in the world to get to know each other.” He told your free hand that was rest on the table and caressed it. Your body felt hot.

“I-I would love that.”

So here you are, getting ready for your date with Nanami. You truthfully never thought this would happen, but hell are you grateful it did. You smooth out your dress and apply more lip gloss before grabbing your purse and opening the door to the blonde staring back at you.

“Good evening, gorgeous.” He hands you a bouquet of flowers.

It was a few hours after your date and you invited him back to have a glass of wine. You both sat on the couch while jazz played on your tv.

One thing led to another and you two are getting touchy on your living room couch. The both of you finished two bottles of wine and it was flowing through you. He placed a big hand on your thigh and caressed it like he does with your hand. Your breath hitches at the feeling and you spread your legs lightly to invite him in.

“Dirty girl, do you want me to move my hand further up?” He cooed. You whimpered and nodded your head lazily. “When you’re with me, you use your words. Understand?” He takes he’s other hand to hold your jaw to face him.

“Y-Yes, I understand,” you whimpered. He chuckled. “Look at you baby, you can barely look at me in the eyes. Shy girl. Do I make you feel like this?” His face was so close to yours at this point.

“Yes,” you whimpered out.

He caressed your cheek and brought his face closer. His lips softly grazed yours as you both exchanged a passionate kiss.

Nanami found your shyness cute, especially in the bedroom. He couldn’t get enough of your cries of pleasure and the way you would drag your fingernails down his arms. The first time you both had sex, he noticed you holding back.

“I need to hear you, princess. I need to know how I’m making you feel. Don’t get quiet on me know” he would moan and he drags his dick im and out of you at a pace that has your mind going fuzzy.

“O-Oh my god, Kento! Fuck! Yes yes yes yes yes,” you chanted as your eyes rolled back. “There you go baby, let it out.”

Sex with Nanami could honestly change someone for the better. After that, you genuinely felt unstoppable. Your shy exterior was etched away with each moment you spent with him. You found yourself more talkative with people at your job, even taking bathroom breaks to send your boyfriend some risqué photos.

‘You’re such a tease pretty girl, I’m coming to get you on your lunch break.’

And he would fuck you senseless in the backseat of his car. And you wouldn’t give a fuck about who heard you, or how you looked when you clocked back in. That’s how he made you feel.

After a few more dates of going to various restaurants, museums, jazz bars, and your favorite, at home dates, you both came to an agreement to move in together. It was one of the best decisions both of you could’ve ever made.

End of Flashback

“You love when I tell that story, don’t you?”

“Who wouldn’t?” You grinned and got up to check on the food. Nanami placed his book back on the shelf and shoved is hand in his pocket.

“And I want to keep telling it forever,” He murmured as he pulled out a small black velvet box with a ring inside.

[stayevildarling]

Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Million Reasons

A/N: I‘m back with a little Wilhemina fic. I‘ve been intrigued to write about the character falling for reader and their perspective rather than what I usually write 💜 Title is inspired by the song but I haven‘t incorporated the actual lyrics into this. I proofread this and accidentally deleted the draft, there are some mistakes in this, pls ignore those as I‘m sick and not in the mood to do that again

tw/tags: female reader, mention of scoliosis, mention of unrequited love, some angst/hurt and comfort as always, very much descriptive and not a lot of conversation

word count: 5.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @stepintomyworld , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

The woman with red hair, captivating brown eyes had a million reasons to fall in love with you. Wilhemina Venable had a simple life, focused on her work which consisted of long days, getting up before the sun rises and often leaving the office building last. She had given her career to the company, practically building it from the back of a van many years ago. And despite her hating her two bosses with every fibre of her being, she had always taken her job seriously. It was her life and she dedicated all her time on it, investing in an extra room at her home, turning it into an office space in order to work from home on the weekends or in the middle of the nights when she couldn‘t find sleep and the files would pile up on her desk.

The redhead, stern woman had never really had much of a private life, barely a decent hobby other than the occasional knitting or watching something on the history channel. She had always loved books, often getting lost in it‘s pages, sometimes finishing a whole book over night as the content captivated her. Committing to anything other than her job felt impossible for the woman obsessed with control and order. It took her several years of doubting before she allowed herself to finally adopt a kitten, by now her truest and most loyal companion. She didn‘t like opening herself up to people, the past and life having hurt her too much to ever allow her to slip again and put trust in other people.

Thats why Wilhemina, also HR of Kineros Robotics hated the idea of her bosses hiring her an assistant. She had never got along with any of them, to the point where they stopped hiring that position many years ago. She didn‘t like their incompetence, that they didn‘t take this as seriously as her, that they only made her job a lot harder. And despite their idiotic traits, they had wanted to do her a favour, hiring someone to help her as the orders have been piling up and they genuinely wanted to help her out, knowing she had sacrificed a lot for this company. It was a rare moment of clarity as usually they are high and off their heads.

Many weeks ago when you had walked into her office the first time, she hated the idea, her nose scrunching in that all too familiar way when disapproving of something. But somehow, she couldn‘t even apply her usual amount of sarcasm and bitchiness as she saw you standing there, notebook neatly wrapped in your hand, a polite smile on your face and somehow the woman could feel you were different than those other assistants before. She almost too politely showed you to the small desk in the corner of her office, facing the wall as she hated having to share the office and not wanting to lay eyes upon this new assistant.

The first few weeks you had managed to prove her right though, never making a mistake, adressing your question to people below her in order not to bother her. You would fetch her coffee without her asking, doing your research beforehand on how she takes it. You would do your work quietly, tapping away on your computer, staring at the wall rather than the window or the woman on the opposite side of the room. You never complained about anything, always volunteering to go to the printers and without asking bringing her the files she had printed also. You didn‘t fall for the silly, yet disgusting jokes of the bosses, simply remaining silent. You didn‘t get yourself into any drama with the other coworkers, either taking your lunch by your desk when the redhead wasn‘t present in order not to bother her or even outside on a bench.

The redhead had never seen you on your private cellphone, never joining for the drinks with the other coworkers after shifts. You were completely and utterly different to her previous assistants and she secretly admired you for it. It took her a while to realize that you are somewhat like her, closed off about your private life, doing your work perfectly and simply going home at the end of your shift. She never approved her other assistants flirting and chatting with the bosses or the disgusting male coworkers from a few floors below, didn‘t appreciate the hangovers and the assistants calling out sick after seeing them going for drinks with the others. And you were different, almost like her and that was the first reason for Wilhemina.

Month one finished and the first challenge arose as both bosses had approved on a rather large order and customer, agreeing and signing the contracts before making sure the materials are available and the contributers on the same page. It meant endless long nights for Wilhemina and she really didn‘t feel like it that week, her back and condition especially rough in the past week. Her eyebrows furrowed when she watched you type away on your desk, long past your usual workday, everyone already having left for the night.

„Ms Y/LN“ she began, causing you to turn around and face her in an instant. „Yes Ms Venable?“ you asked, your voice as friendly as always. „What are you still doing here? you‘re aware we don‘t pay enough for overhours?“ she retorted, her mood particularly bad from her bosses actions and the physical toll of her condition. „Yes Ms. Venable, I‘m aware of that but I know the importance of this project and the deadlines“ you explained and she simply nodded before letting you carry on, astounded at your politeness and the fact you seemed to want to finish the work regardless of the hours and not caring about the pay either. In the end, by night two the two of you had figured it out completely, finishing everything and making sure the order is ready to go by the next morning. And that was Wilhemina‘s second reason, your selflessness, your sense of responsibility and how despite your younger age you care about this company and inevitably the woman you are working with. You had noticed how she never usually eats past lunch and for evening two you took your break and picked up some to go food, doing your research and picking her favorite place, getting her a salad and smoothie and placing it sublty on her desk, without making any comment. The two of you typed away in silence while eating but the woman couldn‘t fully focus, her mind clouded by you.

After that night, the next morning as you arrived, you found your desk in a different position, facing the window rather than the wall and you knew then that you must have done something right, smiling sublty, while enjoying the new view of your desk.

And so, the usual stoic woman found herself thinking about you outside of work, how you had something so effortless yet unique. She never saw you in the same outfit in a week, almost dressed professional but somehow still comfortable, you managed to make a comfortable sweater or cardigan look utterly professional. She liked your rings and how you would play with them a little whenever you are nervous or concentrating on your work. She loved that you occassionally mutter to yourself ever so quietly when reading something, which would usually drive her crazy and unleash her inner dragon but somehow it made her smile on the inside. She liked the stationary you kept hidden in your desk draw, the notebook with flowers on, the packet of teddy bear highlighters and bunny postits that you would only use when she isn't around, using the office standard whenever she is watching. But she had caught on, liking the little unique details about you and how sublty she noticed them over time.

Wilhemina started to grow curious about you, wishing you would share more about yourself, suddenly finding herself wondering what your favorite music is, whether you like to read, whether you have a pet. And some more months in she would ask herself what your life outside of work may be, having done some research on social media but unable to find much about your private life. She wondered whether you may have someone in your life, what you are interested in. But the redhead never finds herself to ever ask you, engage in any conversations without you that aren‘t about work. Sometimes, she would sit there, her hands ghosting over her keyboard, simply staring at you and wondering what she could say or how she could ever say the words on the tip of her tongue.

And then Wilhemina found herself turning back to writing, something she would very rarely do these days, finding herself lost in poetry, writing about the colour of your eyes, the colour of your hair and what those reminded you of. How she would like to know your favorite flower, wishing she could coat your desk with them, wondering what your hand would feel like and whether it could fit into her own. And before she knew it, the woman realized what this was turning into, the familiar longing in her heart, the sudden nerves when around you and the having to withdraw from staring at you too much during the day. She had felt this longing before, rarely ever so strong though and she knew she had to intervene before this could hurt her too much. She knew she wouldn‘t stand a chance, knowing no one could ever truly be interested in her and even by the slim chance that they are, they could never truly accept and love her when they found out about her physical condition.

Wilhemina had learnt the hard way that people would feel bad, either treat her like a child and doing everything for her or telling her its not that bad and other people suffer with worse and that she needs to keep it together. And neither she ever wanted to go through again, so all her life she had pushed any resemblance of a family, friends or a love interest away. And so as the rainy days came by, she turned quieter, more drawn to herself and losing herself in work, sometimes simply spending nights in her office and working, not wanting to go back to her lonely home and wonder what your company may be like there. She retreated from talking to you unless completely necessary, barely making any eye contact and sometimes her usual sarcasm would even slip out.

Now, over the past six months you had gotten to know your boss, knowing how strict and driven she was, seeing how she spoke to people over the phone that annoyed her, seeing how she would answer to the two bosses and throw the same rude comments right back at them, never taking their inappropriate jokes or sometimes even abuse. You heard the shatter by the coffee machines how she hasn‘t fired you yet, how you managed to tame the dragon, never giving in to those comments and simply brushing them off. But you enjoyed her presence, working beside her even through silence, her presence comforting and somehow keeping you calm during the rush of this job and working for the company. And you noticed her pulling away ever so slightly, assuming she may be struggling with some personal things but somehow you wanted to help her, having seen her cane of course, her posture and the medication vials, despite her doing her best to hide it from you. But of course the others chatted about her scoliosis, the occasional comment about the rain making it worse and whether her next outburst may come but you didn‘t care about what they said, wanting to make her life easier, having grown fond of the woman you are working for over these past few months.

„Ms Venable?“ you asked one rainy afternoon, the rain pattering quietly against the large windows as you stood in front of her after your break. She simply carried on typing before muttering some sort of reply that she was listening. „May I assist you with anything?“ you asked, knowing there was no point in asking her whether you can ask her something, knowing she disapproved of unnecessary etiquettes like that. „Have you checked whether those bills have been handed to finances?“ she asked, never once glancing at you. „Yes Ms Venable, all done“ you explained before she nodded, mumbling about you getting back to work. But you didn‘t back away, remaining there before you cleared your throat. „I was wondering if there is anything I can assist you with“ you clarified, causing her eyes to snap towards you, sensing the slight nervousness in your voice for the first time since working with you.

„Whatever do you mean?“ she asked, adjusting her glasses as they slightly moved down her nose from all the reading. „It‘s just I know how demanding this job is for you and after all I am hired as your assistant so I‘d be happy to fetch you whatever you may need, coffee, lunch or even some personal errands, knowing how much time you spend here“ you explained, your heart practically beating out of your chest by the end of it. And Wilhemina found herself torn, this being yet another reason but she had to fight it, keep her walls where they had always been, snapping some reply towards you, causing you to nod and return to your desk, fighting back the tears, wondering what you may had done wrong for her to change so much within the last few weeks. Yet you soldiered through, resuming your work and brushing it off as her having a rough time, knowing you at least did your best to offer it to her.

The next morning as you returned to work, your desk was gone and someone had informed you of you working in the hallway by a smaller desk, right between Ms Venable‘s office and the two bosses. You sighed, wondering what exactly you had done wrong and sad not to be working as closely with her as before. You never questioned that the desk was different, that yet you found your stationary in a draw neatly placed, never connecting the dots as to whom had placed them there in the first place. And momentarily the woman found peace for a few weeks, her mind not constantly clouded and driven by her emotions and reasons of falling in love with you, being able to focus on her work, going home in the evening and spent the night with her most truest and loyal companion. Weeks passed and she would only occasionally see you, the same coffee always there, the files always there waiting for her from the printer. Often she would communicate with you via email, telling you exactly what she needed and she found it easier to cope with her reality.

She had started seeing her therapist again, cancelling the last few sessions due to her demanding work but she managed to talk about you and despite the reassurance that she deserved this, should give this a shot, she couldn‘t believe it, couldn‘t trust the risks, despite having made major breakthroughs in the past while working on herself and slowly healing from some of live's traumas. Things however took a turn when she needed a document urgently, walking to the printers herself before finding you in the small room next door, your face tear stained as you stared at the coffee machine. She carried on but stopped herself in time, returning before finding you turning to her with a brave smile, acting as if nothing happened. She didn't question it, gathering from the two coffee cups you are holding that this may be her bosses doing and so she observed quietly and from a distance, seeing how many times you would walk away from your desk, constantly having to go into your bosses office either to serve or entertain them.

The redhead felt bad, this ultimately her doing for punishing you away for her own feelings. She watched quietly as you walked away yet again to fetch them something before stepping into their large office "I'm so glad Venny got sick of this one, she's perfect" one of them muttered, causing her blood to boil and her overprotectiveness to kick in, which was rare for the woman obsessed with lilac. Her cane banged on the floor twice as she put them in their place and you stood there frozen as she turned around and faced you. "Follow me" she instructed and you did as you are told before she pointed at your old desk in her office "You'll stay in our office again and we will never speak of this again, understood?" she questioned and you nodded eagerly before thanking her and fetching your belongings again. "Our office" the words kept repeating in her head, wanting to slap herself for ever saying that and judging herself for having gone so soft on you.

„Did they do anything to make you uncomfortable?“ she asked out of the blue a while later and you turned to her before answering „No Ms Venable“ and she left it at that, knowing you trusted her enough by now to voice if anything serious happend. Yet, her overprotectiveness caused her issue to return, the sleepless nights, the reasons overwhelming her. It wasn‘t until fate or rather your idiot bosses took matters into their own hands a few weeks later that things finally took a turn.

You arrived on time as always, which by your standards meant showing up fifteen minutes early as always. You knew Ms. Venable had a meeting scheduled this morning with finances due to a small mishap on their part. She had told you to take care of any incoming phone calls, which you didn‘t mind as you had done it plenty of times. You managed to work at your normal pace, only occasionally some calls with people who needed to speak with your boss directly and so you took notes, neatly leaving them on her desk. Before lunchtime, another call came in, this time your idiot bosses who demanded your attention in their office. You obliged of course, nevertheless not looking forward to whatever they would need from you as they also knew Ms Venable was out of reach and somehow you felt safe around the redhead woman, especially in the presence of those two.

„Ah good to see you“ one of them said before patting one of the chairs beside them. You politely declined, opting to stand before asking what you may assist them with. „You know.. we‘ve been thinking and we both know Venny a while“ they started and you knew they meant Ms Venable by this, only able to imagine what she would do if she heard them adress her like this. „And so it struck us as odd how off she‘s been lately“ he carries on explaining which causes your eyebrows to furrow. „Until we found this“ the other one began laughing hysterically as he held up a note on a lilac piece of paper. You stepped forward, trying to take the note but they wouldn‘t let you.

„I look at you, but words won't come, my heart beats loud, my tongue stays numb. Each smile you give, a fragile thread, I fear the truth is best unsaid“ one of them read while giggling and you took all your bravery, lunging forward and taking the note, wrapping it in your pocket before leaving them to it, giggling and cracking jokes as you leave their office and return to your desk. Now you weren‘t sure if it was really true, considering what pranksters they are but as you open the note again, you instantly recognize the womans handwriting and your heart skips as a beat as you slowly read over the words.

I look at you, but words won't come, my heart beats loud, my tongue stays numb. Each smile you give, a fragile thread, I fear the truth is best unsaid.

What if you see the cracks beneath, the tangled heart, the hidden grief? If all I am should break your gaze, and turn your warmth to colder days?

I wear this mask, too scared to show , the parts of me I hope don't grow. But love like this, it's sharp and real, too wild to hide, too raw to heal.

So here I stay, just out of reach, too scared to fall, too shy to speak. If you saw me as I am inside, would you still love me, or run and hide?

By the end of reaching the poem your eyes were swelling with tears, not for the fact that someone loved you enough to write poetry about you but how she viewed herself. You knew she seemed tough and cold on the outside, trying to protect what‘s hidden inside. You knew she cared about rules and structure only to protect the parts of her that needed those in order to get through her days. You knew she thinks her condition turned her into a monster, someone not worth loving. But you didn’t know she feared turning you cold and bitter and it strucks you then what the woman must have been through in her past to see herself like this, not to speak her truth and to hide her feelings. The sadness overwhelmed you as you tried focusing on your work again, only now understanding why she had sent you away before after you offered her help.

Wilhemina returned moments later, just missing the initial events as she entered the office again. As soon as she did, she could tell something wasn‘t right, you were too focused on your work, barely acknowledging her as she tried to speak to you, your usual warmth and openness replaced by something, she couldn‘t quite name. She brushed it off, assuming it was something personal before following up on the calls and emails she had missed. By the time the afternoon arrived, you still almost remained frozen and she began to worry then. She had asked you again but you still seemed frozen and so she opted to leave you be, walk to the printers herself rather than ordering you to. When she returns, she finds her two bosses lingering by the hallway, some smug smiles plastered on their faces.

„Now Ms Venable, want us to book you both a table tonight?“ one of them muttered with a smug smile on his face. Her eyes rolled as she listened to their rambling again and she simply began to walk away, not in the mood for their pranks and jokes. „Oh come on Venny, don‘t tell us Y/N didn‘t like your little poem“ the other one joked before they began giggling. She stopped in her tracks, her cane banging on the floor once as she realized what they had done. She knew she should have kept that draw locked but again she didn‘t expect those two to go through her personal things. She simply walked away, returning to her desk before calmly opening her bottom drawer, needing to check which poem they had taken and given to you. To her distaste they took the last, possibly most meaningful one. She remained silent as she began typing away on her computer, ignoring your presence as well as her actual work that had piled up on her desk by now.

By the time the evening arrives, everyone having left she still types away, having gone to the printers a few times. By around 10pm, you wrap up for the day, keeping your composure as you approach the woman. „Is there anything I can help you with Ms Venable?“ you ask, trying to keep your nerves at bay feeling horrible for what your bosses had done and how they exposed the vulnerable side of the woman sitting in front of you. „No you can leave“ she acknowledges before she passes you a slim folder. „What is this?“ you ask a little confused as you see some printed job offers from different firms, for similar positions than the one you are already working. „These are job offers from other companies, they pay more and they will certainly value your qualities.“ she begins, not meeting your eyes once as the confusion ripples through you. „I‘m sorry?“ you ask confused, taking a closer look at the contents of the folder.

„I have added a very good reference for you and once you make your decision, I‘ll be happy to assist, I have some connections with most of these companies“ she explains camly, ignoring how this is making you feel nervous by the shacking of your hands and voice. Was she firing you? You remain silent, trying to understand what happened when the poem crosses your mind again. „Are you firing me Ms Venable?“ you ask confused, knowing if she was firing you, she wouldn‘t be handing you a good reference and other, maybe even better job opportunities. She glances at you then, opening her mouth as if to speak but she remains silent as she collects her thoughts. And thats when you see the vulnerability in her eyes, matching the contents of her writing so perfectly and it again made your heart ache, knowing she was only doing this to protect you from herself and her now very obvious feelings for you.

„Ms Venable, if this is about the poem“ you begin but she cuts you off immediately. „They had no business going through my things and you had no business reading it“ she snaps, her walls suddenly back as she tries to fight for her last bit of dignity. „I know Ms Venable and I‘m so sorry but if thats why you want to get rid of me then there is no need“ you reassure. She stares at you almost a bit puzzled before sighing „And what makes you say that?“ her tone a bit snappy and much like the usual Ms Venable. „Because if those two were right and this is about me then I don‘t care Ms Venable, I like working here, I respect this company and I enjoy working with you.. I mean underneath you and… I.. I like you too Ms Venable“ you admit, a desperate attempt not to make her push you away, not in order to keep your job but in order to make her see that you cared about her too, maybe more than you had allowed her to see.

„Please…“ she sighs, rolling her eyes at the patheticness of your statement. „I mean it Ms Venable“ you argue, for the first time in a while meeting her brown eyes and she could see it too then, the honesty, how raw and vulnerable you seem in this moment and that every word seems to come from a place of truth. „I may not agree with all parts of your poem but I don‘t want to lose this job or working beside you“ you repeat and she simply stares at you as she listens to your every word. „I don‘t know you very well outside of work of course but the parts I have seen I have grown very fond of, I like the way you sass everyone and how you aren‘t afraid to deal with people like those two idiots, I like how maticuless and responsible you do this job, how this company would be lost without you. I adore how strict you are and how you care for rules and structure but how you can be soft underneath it, truly kind and caring about others.“ Her nose scrunched at the last statement but you can‘t help but carry on. „I don‘t care about the dark sides or the grief, I don‘t care about your condition or how it may affect you on bad days, I care about your wellbeing Ms Venable and you could never turn me cold or ruin me“ you lay out your feelings before suddenly stopping, realizing you may be oversharing and definitely overstepping.

„I would really like to get to know you better and if that means having to leave this job I will happily do that and if you want me to pretend that none of this ever happened then I will but please don‘t send me away“ you beg with a final statement before reaching for your bag and leaving her be, leaving the office for the night wanting to give her enough space to think this through and also calm down as you poured your entire heart and soul out right in front of her. Neither of you managed to sleep a wink that night, you too scared of the consequences of your confession and Wilhemina trying to fight her walls, knowing she actually had a shot at this but way too stubborn to allow herself to feel those feelings for you.

By the time you get into the office she is already there and you simply greet her before beginning on your work, knowing when the time was right, she would approach you. And it took the entirity of the day, the whole office having left again as you return from the printers and find her looking at you with an expression you are unable to read. „Did you mean what you said last night?“ she asks, her voice more vulnerable, lacking her usual strength and composure. „Every word“ you reassure before she nods and looks away „I know this may be a long shot but may I take you for coffee or dinner at some point?“ you ask, surprised as soon as the words left your mouth at this sudden confidence and apparently the redhead feels the same way as a small smirk appears on her face. „Bold attempt“ she smirks, causing your cheeks to blush slightly. „Is that a yes?“ you ask nervously before she nods, causing your smile to widen.

And so, Wilhemina‘s reasons kept going as she got to know you better, learnt about your love for animals, how enthusiastic you are about charity work, how your favourite colours are yellow and lilac, how you like going on walks and buying flowers and plants to decorate your place in, how you adore books and spent a lot of time at the library or local book stores. How you loved wine and how chatty you would get even after one glass. With each detail about you she found herself falling deeper, loving the way you talk and listening to it for hours on end, how you always included her in a conversation, how you always wanted to find out as much as you can about her. And then a few weeks later there was the time when you met her most loyal companion and that had been her last reason, the way you got so excited, how you crouched to his level, how he immediately warmed up to you, which he wouldn‘t usually do with strangers. She watched in awe as you spoke to him in the most adorable voice ever and as she glanced at you, she knew.

On your next „meeting“ which had been dates all along but the woman was still a little shy and awkward she decided to be brave and as your hands brushed, she took yours in hers and just like she had dreamed it fit perfectly together, almost like the missing puzzle piece. „Y/N?“ she halted and you turned towards her at the sudden seriousness of her voice. „Yes Wilhemina?“ you asked and she looked away before whispering „I think it‘s time you take one of those other jobs now“ she explained and your eyebrows furrowed for a moment before she held onto your hand tighter, closing the gap and using all of her confidence to put whatever she had been feeling into the kiss. You couldn‘t help but smile as you immediately kissed her back, so excited that you wanted to giggle and jump up and down. „I‘ll be sure to quit in the morning“ you smirked before adding „I don‘t know how my boss will feel about that though, she lowkey has a crush on me“ you joke which caused the redhead to chuckle lowly.

And so, ever so slowy and over time, Wilhemina didn‘t simply find many reasons to fall in love for the assistant she never wanted but she also learned to love herself again, to allow herself to be open for love and ignore the demons and voices in her head telling her how unworthy and undeserving she was of those. And you made sure to show her for the rest of your lifetime what the woman meant to you, always holding her hand when days got tough, never treating her like a child or a victim and simply being there for her with whatever she needed as you fell just as hard for the readhead, possibly for a million reasons more.