#also I'm realizing why employment is good

[paprikamahomes]

Yeah I'm ok just violently sobbing and crying because I remembered we don't have Ezekiel anymore and Dak will have to play without his SOULMATE 💔💔💔💔💔💔 EZEKIEL IS HIS SOUL MATE 💔💔💔

[runnning-outof-time]

My Favorite Story | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @peakyswritings

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy finds himself spending time in his office for other reasons once he finds out (Y/N)'s interest in the room.

Warnings: smoking

Word Count: 4024

A/N: sorry if this one got a little corny at the end…thanks Reb, for allowing me to put my love of books into a story. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"Come out, come out wherever you are, Charlie!" (Y/N) called as she wandered the halls of Arrow House, looking for the small boy whom she was a nanny to. They were currently playing hide-and-seek, and it was the four year old's turn to hide.

She went from room to room, giving each only a quick glance because her opponent was only four after all...he wasn't going to be hiding in any advanced places. She continued on, checking each of the rooms on the first floor (because that's where their playing field was) until she got to the only hallway left. This one held a more formal sitting room, and her employer, Thomas Shelby's, office. She had hoped that Charlie wouldn't have gone down this hall because she knew that her boss was particular about the people he let into his personal office. But with all of the other rooms and hallways checked, she was quickly running out of options.

She checked in the sitting room and found it empty, which left her with one final choice of where to look. The door was also cracked, so there was a good chance that he was hiding in there. Out of all of the rooms in the house...you just want me to get into trouble, don't you? she thought to herself as she approached the door. "Charlie?!" she called out while slowly opening the door, treating it like there was tripwire on the other side and it would set off if she moved too quickly.

Giggles sounded out the second she stepped into the room. They were, of course, coming from the far corner, where the floor-to-ceiling windows were. She took a moment to take in her surroundings. This clearly wasn't one of the rooms she'd been in very much, so it all seemed foreign to her.

Something that jumped out right away was the expansive book collection that lined the walls of the room. Not a single shelf seemed to be empty, and all of the books were organized into neat rows; their spines just begging for her to run her fingers across. She would have thought that she'd died and gone to heaven if she didn't know any better. But she did...and right now she needed to find the child she'd been searching for and get out before it became a personal hell.

"Where are you, Charlie?" she called out as she walked even further into the room. She wanted to smile at his adorable giggles, but the worry of getting caught, and reprimanded kept her strict to her mission of ‘find the kid and get out��.

"You can't see me, Miss (Y/N)," he said in between his giggles, which she now realized were coming from behind the curtains.

"I think I'm getting closer," she told him, only a few steps from his hiding spot now, "hmm...why could there be shoes coming out from under the curtains?" she wondered aloud as she reached out to take hold of the curtains. The giggles quieted down as the child prepared to be found. "There you are!" (Y/N) exclaimed as she pulled the curtain slightly to the side, coming face to face with the beaming boy.

"You found me!" Charlie exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

"You had a good hiding spot," (Y/N) told him, a smile on her face, "although you should know better than to hide in your father's office," she added, her voice holding a more stern tone.

"It's your turn!" he cheered, unphased by her statement.

The sound of the front door closing rang out through the halls before anything else could be said. (Y/N) stiffened in her spot, knowing that that sound could only mean one thing...

"Daddy!" Charlie yelled as loud as he could before he took off running out of the room.

(Y/N) was still frozen. She wanted to run like hell out of the room and try to make it seem as though she wasn't just in a room that was supposed to be off-limits, but instead her feet stayed glued to the hardwood. The voice of Tommy Shelby came clearly from the foyer, greeting his son and asking him what he'd been doing while he was away.

Hearing him speak made her kick into gear, and she was able to walk the length of the room and reach the door just as she heard footsteps starting to come her way.

"I was playing hide-and-seek with Miss (Y/N)!" Charlie excitedly told his father as he led him down the hall he'd left his nanny in, "and I had a really good spot."

"Did you?" Tommy asked, intrigue present in his voice as he wondered where his son was taking him. When he looked up, he noticed (Y/N) in the process of shutting the door to his office. His eyebrows furrowed at this, trying to remember if he'd locked the door or not when he was leaving this morning.

His office was the one room in the house that he didn't want Charlie roaming about freely in. There were too many bad things held in there for a child to be going through it unattended.

"Where was this hiding spot, eh?" Tommy asked his son when they stopped a few steps away from where (Y/N) was standing.

"I hid behind the curtains!" the boy wasted no time in exclaiming, not seeing any problem in where he'd chosen to hide. (Y/N), on the other hand, felt like she was about to faint as she waited on baited breath for Tommy's reaction to Charlie's answer.

Instead of quickly deciding (Y/N)'s fate, Tommy did one of the things he does best: look to each of the people standing in front of him as he dragged his statement out until it felt like (Y/N) was going to explode from the tension.

"He was...we were in your office, Mr. Shelby, I'm so sorry," she admitted, the words rushing out of her mouth before she had much time to process them. She hoped they made sense.

Tommy stayed quiet for a few more moments after she spoke, blinking a few times as he thought her words over. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of anger as he thought of the rule that had been broken. Of all people, (Y/N) should have known that Charlie wasn't allowed in his office unattended.

"I've already told him that he shouldn't be going into your personal rooms, but he..."

"Stop," his voice finally broke through her second round of explanations. She closed her mouth as soon as she heard him, holding her breath as she hoped that she'd still have a job after this conversation was over. "There's no need to explain yourself any further," he told her, his voice flat, giving her no indication of what he was thinking.

(Y/N) continued to hold her breath as she watched Tommy turn to look at Charlie. "You should know better than to go into my office when I'm not home, Charles. Next time you listen to what (Y/N) is telling you, alright?" he asked with raised eyebrows, his voice stern.

"Yes, sir," Charlie answered like he knew he was supposed to, nodding his head once.

"Good lad. Go on now...go play in your room," Tommy instructed him once he deemed the boy to have understood the message he was trying to get across.

Charlie turned to (Y/N) before going anywhere. (Y/N) immediately knew that he was waiting for her to join him, but a quick glance at Tommy to see his eyes trained on her made her realize that maybe she should stick around for a few moments longer. "I'll be up shortly, Charlie," she told the boy, who nodded before running past his father to go to his room.

(Y/N) swallowed thickly as she focused on Tommy again, waiting to see if he'd be the first to say something. The anticipation was, once again, killing her.

"He didn't touch anything, did he?" Tommy finally asked; his question being one of the last that (Y/N) expected to come out of his mouth.

"No, Mr. Shelby. Everything was in its rightful place when I entered the room," she assured him.

"Good," he nodded, happy with her answer. "You're able to go with him," he said to her then, stepping out of the way so that she'd have room to pass him.

"That's all?" she asked, the words coming out before she could stop them.

Tommy's brows furrowed in confusion upon hearing her statement. "What do you mean?"

"You're not angry at me? I'm not in trouble for entering your office?" she rattled off some of the questions that were circling through her brain.

"I'm not, no," he shook his head, "let's not make a habit of it though, eh?"

"Of course, Mr. Shelby," she nodded, still surprised by how the situation had gone. She was still expecting him to blow his lid on her...it wouldn't be the first time he'd done it to one of his employees. She wasn't about to give him a reason to do so though. "Thank you," she said then, ducking her head before she walked past him so that she could go and be with Charlie again.

Tommy took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly as he moved to open his office door. He knew for certain that he would have just had a completely different conversation if (Y/N) hadn't been the one who was closing the door. He'd felt something different towards her from the moment she was hired on as Charlie's live-in nanny a little over a year ago. His son adored her, and he was happy that Charlie would grow up with someone who genuinely cared for him, and who would be able to be with him when his father was away. (Y/N) provided a much needed sense of security for a boy who'd been through so much in his short life so far.

(Y/N) brought something into the house that had been missing. Tommy often wondered if he'd grown a soft spot for her because of how she was with Charlie, or if there was maybe a little more behind the reason.

He sunk into his office chair with a sigh, looking at the picture of his late wife and son as they stared back at him. If only it had been that easy, he thought to himself before grabbing the cigarette tin so that he could take one out and roll it along his lips, but things happen for a reason, right?.

——

(Y/N) knocked on the door to her employer's office, waiting to hear if he was in before entering. His muffled voice calling for her to 'come' came through the mahogany moments later, making her turn the knob and open the door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Shelby," she greeted him as she found him sitting behind his desk.

"Hello, Miss (Y/L/N)," he returned the greeting, "is there something I can do for you?"

"I have Charlie's quarterly report. I figured you'd want it as soon as I was finished with it," she told him, holding the papers up into view.

Tommy nodded at her words. "Let's have a look then," he said, beckoning her over to his desk with a wave of his hand. (Y/N) nodded and walked across the room, stopping in front of his desk so that she could hand him the papers. He sat his glasses on the bridge of his nose before he began looking through them, reading the detailed report of how his son was progressing. "You think he'll be ready to start schooling?" he asked her after a few, quiet moments had passed, glancing up at her.

"I think so, sir. He's a very bright boy," she answered with a nod and a slight smile.

"And everything else seems to be in order...as far as developments go?" he asked another question.

"Yes," she nodded again, "there's even some things he's excelling at," she added, a proud smile forming on her face. Even though she knew she shouldn't, she'd come to love Charlie like he was her own. Spending nearly every day with him had created such a beautiful relationship between the two. She wouldn't know what she'd do without him.

"That's good to hear," Tommy nodded, continuing to look through the papers.

"He should be ready to start school in the fall," she shared the information that had been weighing on her mind, her smile faltering slightly, "and I'll promptly begin work on finding another placement for myself. I'll place adds in the papers, I'll..."

"No," Tommy cut her off abruptly with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head, "I want you to stay here with Charlie."

"He won't need me anymore, Mr. Shelby," she told him, a bit surprised by his interjection.

"Yes he will," he nodded, his eyes locked onto hers, "he's quite fond of you, (Y/N), and I don't want to separate that." We're all quite fond of you, he thought to himself as he studied her face. "I'll continue to pay you, and you'll continue to live here."

"You're serious?" (Y/N) checked, a slight gasp leaving her lips as a smile played on them.

"I am," he nodded again, clasping his hands together as he rested his elbows on the desk.

"That's so very kind of you...I will tell Charlie of this as soon as he is back from his riding lesson. He will be so thrilled. Thank you, Mr. Shelby," she expressed her gratitude, allowing the smile to take over her features.

"Thank you, Miss (Y/L/N)," he returned the sentiment, "you're free to go," he said then, signaling the end of the conversation.

(Y/N) nodded and turned to exit the room. She walked a few steps before stopping, the shelves of books catching her eye again. She folded her hands together in front of her skirt as she glanced around the room.

"Is there something else you need?" Tommy's voice broke the silence in the room, making her snap from her trance to turn and face him again.

"No, Mr. Shelby, I..." she trailed off, feeling slightly bashful for being caught admiring the books, "I'm just amazed by the amount of books that you have in here," she decided to tell him why she'd stuck around, a soft smile forming on her face after the admission.

"You read?" he asked her, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

"I do," she nodded, "I'm slowly running out of material though, and the workers' library that you've so graciously given us only has so many books, so to see these books in here made me..." she trailed off as she realized she was sharing too much information, her face heating up as she looked down at the ground.

Tommy let the silence hang in the air for a few moments as he thought about what she'd said. "Would you want to read in here?" he asked her then, his question making her eyes shoot up to his.

"You'd let me?" she asked, her words coming out in a surprised gasp.

"Yeah," he nodded, his simple response making excitement bubble up inside of (Y/N).

"I'd really like that, thank you, Mr. Shelby," she said to him, expressing her gratitude once more. She swore that she saw the ghost of a smile flash across his lips as he nodded his head again. "I'm going to go be with Charlie now, sir...he should be returning from his lesson any moment." Tommy nodded again at her words, and she finally exited the room, her excitement boiling over as a giddy smile spread across her face. There was nothing she loved more than books.

——

It became a routine for (Y/N) to go into Tommy's study so that she could read every day after that. Tommy would be in the room sometimes, working on whatever it was that he needed to get done. She quickly came to love the peaceful silence that filled the room as they cohabitated in it. Being with him felt comfortable to her...almost as comfortable as it felt when she was spending time with Charlie.

"Do you have a favorite book?" Tommy asked out of the blue one day, his words making (Y/N) look up from the page she was reading.

"I do, yes," she responded, a smile quickly forming on her face at the thought of discussing something she liked, "it's called Walden and it's by an American author named Henry David Thoreau. He writes about being alone and immersed in the wilderness in it...it's always such a mind clearing read," she informed him of her favorite book and explained why it held that title.

"Do I have it?" he asked her, his brows furrowed in curiosity.

"I've not found it on the shelves...it's been a while since I've read it, actually," she answered, remembering clearly one of her first days spent in the room. She was rather bummed when she came up empty in her search.

"Noted," he nodded, picking up his pen and focusing his attention back on the paper in front of him. (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows at the conversation she'd just had, confused as to why he'd just asked her that out of nowhere. Silence persisted in the room again, so she went back to reading.

——

"You're late today," Tommy commented as he watched (Y/N) enter the room.

"Charles wouldn't settle," she answered him, a slight smile on her face as she tried to push her feelings of nervousness down. She knew it wasn't the case, but she couldn't help but feel like a child who had just been called into the headmaster's office.

"Is he fine now?" he asked her, watching as she skimmed the shelves, looking for the book she'd indulge in that evening.

"He is...he had a burst of energy before bed," she answered, her eyes still focused on the books. Nothing was jumping out at her. She'd just finished a book and was now in that weird in between where she couldn't get interested in something else.

After searching for a few more minutes, (Y/N) gave up with a sigh. She moved over to the couch and sat down, resting her head back against the cushion. "All these books and yet there's nothing to read," she mumbled to herself, staring at the fire.

"Something wrong?" Tommy questioned as he watched her carefully.

"I've got nothing to read," she answered, fully aware of how dramatic she sounded, but yet not caring.

Tommy chuckled at her statement before he stood from his chair. (Y/N) turned her head and watched him as he opened one of the desk's drawers and took something from it before he made his way over to where she was sitting. Her brows furrowed together when she noticed that what he had in his hand looked like a book. Without a word, he sat down next to her and extended his arm with the book in her direction.

"What's this?" she questioned, accepting the book from his hand.

"It came in yesterday...I figured you might want to read it," he answered, giving no explicit clues to her.

(Y/N) sent him a look of confusion, to which he responded with a slight nod, silently telling her to open the book. She listened, and she just about gasped when she opened the cover and read the title page. "You found me Walden?" she asked him, surprise was present in her features when she looked up at him once more.

"I did," he nodded, the corner of his lips tugging upwards as he noticed how happy this gesture had made her.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Shelby!" she couldn't hold her excitement back, a wide smile breaking onto her face as she clutched the book close to her.

"You're welcome, (Y/N)," he said, happy that he'd made her happy. "You can call me Tommy when we're in here...you're not working," he told her then and she nodded, feeling the butterflies react to the advancement.

She eagerly opened the book then, more than ready to dive into Thoreau's words and experience his adventures again. Tommy stayed sitting on the couch, fishing the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could stick one between his lips and strike it with a lighter. He rested his head back against the couch and watched (Y/N) as she quickly became immersed in the world her book's pages held. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt as content as he did now; the last time he rather sit and do nothing instead of continuing on with his work.

"Do you have a favorite story?" (Y/N)'s question broke him from his thoughts, and when he glanced in her direction, he saw that she'd lowered her book and was looking at him.

"My favorite story?" he replied with a question. (Y/N) nodded. Tommy paused for a moment, looking at the fire as he thought it over. He then chuckled slightly before responding, "perhaps it's one that hasn't been written yet."

(Y/N) couldn't believe his reply. She bit on her lip to try and contain the smile that was threatening to form the second after she heard it as Tommy watched her intently for her reaction to his words.

"That sounded a bit soppy, didn't it?" he questioned her after a few moments had passed, taking one last drag from his cigarette before he stamped it out in the ashtray on the coffee table.

"Not at all," she answered, biting on the knuckle of her index finger to stifle the giggles that were threatening to escape as she spoke.

Tommy looked at her once he was sitting properly again, admiring her face as she did the same with him. Nothing was said as he then reached over and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. (Y/N) froze slightly at the action, her eyes locked onto his as he gently ran the back of his hand down the line from her cheek to her jaw. His touch made her skin feel like it had been set alight.

"I'm sorry my hair isn't properly done up," she apologized, her voice much softer now.

"Don't apologize," he brushed her off, his voice's tone matching hers. He kept his hand resting on her jaw, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb as he savored the feeling of her soft skin.

(Y/N) hoped she looked calm on the outside, because all of her systems were firing in her brain. She'd be lying if she said that she didn't want something like this to occur between her and Tommy. Her feelings for him seemed to grow with each hour she spent in his study; reading books while he worked. In a way she felt like she had already been with him; like they were a couple who had already settled into a peaceful married life and liked to come together in the evenings and just spent time in the other's presence. She had to keep reminding herself that she was only Charlie's nanny.

But with the way he was acting, she may not only be that for long...

"Would you come to dinner with me?" he asked her after some time had passed.

"You'd want me to?" she shyly asked him, her eyes slightly widening at his offer.

"I would," he nodded, "maybe then I could tell you a bit more about an idea for my favorite story."

"I'd like that," (Y/N) nodded, a smile forming on her face as her butterflies went swarming again, "I'd like to hear more about your favorite story."

Little did she know that his favorite story was the one they were about to write.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife

MASTERLIST

[balkanradfem]

So my roommate flopped. She moved her things in, and then I haven't seen her for a week. She didn't contact me either. I figured something went wrong, and that she's probably not going to live here, and then she called me, telling me she's moving out. Turns out that day after she moved in, she got fired, because she was an extra to the company, and she has to move back home with her parents.

I wasn't too upset because I did not enjoy her company at all, but, I did have to go back to searching for a roommate. The plant lady helped me this time, and she found a woman who needed to house an immigrant worker who worked for her – a woman from Nepal. I immediately said yes to this, because that is too cool, I would get to talk to her in english! And I would learn something about a foreign culture, I love that. Her employer came to see the place, and did not give me a good vibe. She asked if heating could be turned off to save on bills. I shut that down quickly, our heating is charged by the square meter. She told me very sternly to save as much as possible on utilities, which I already do, but then to also tell her employee to save up too. I didn't like that.

She came to move in the next day, and I was nervous. But then I saw her and she is so sweet! She struggles to speak english, but could understand what I was saying very well. So while she knew exactly what I was saying, I had to ask her to repeat things to me multiple times, sometimes missing the meaning because I couldn't grasp her accent. She asked me if I could teach her Croatian, and I said yes.

I took her to her workplace to show her the quickest route, and she told me that she has a working husband and two children, so she's working in here and sending her salary back home. Her mother is taking care of the kids because they're both working. She kept asking me if I'm married, or have a boyfriend, or children, and why not, and I could not put any nuance in my explanations, so I just said I liked freedom.

Then she asked me what age I was, and I already knew that we're the same age, because her employer told me she's 34 as well, but she didn't know my age, and was shocked when I said 34! She thought... she thought I was 17 T_T. It must be cultural differences because I do not look like a teen, I swear. I was wearing a silly hat, I think that must have done it.

I was showing her how to use everything in the kitchen and bathroom, and realized it's almost time for winter decorations; so I asked her what winter holidays she celebrated. She didn't know how to answer that, so I asked her if she celebrated hindu holidays, because I had read that 80% of Nepali people practiced hinduism. And she goes 'No, I'm Christian', and I'm like WHAT. What were the odds of that? So then I had to explain to her that I am the one out of two of us who doesn't celebrate Christmas, which is so funny, and ironic, but it's where we are. I'll put up a little tree anyway, I'll just say it's for the Winter Solstice.

I'm pleased with my new roommate. I made sure to learn to say her real name – she uses a simple made-up name because most Croats struggle to pronounce the real one. I'm constantly worrying she doesn't have all she needs so I am giving her gloves and clothing and letting her use my stuff until she has her own, but it's also fun for me to be able to interact with someone who came from so far away. All my experiences with foreign women are so nice! 

[miss-musings]

"Can't You See They're Using You?": The Parallels Between Cid and The Empire as Exploitative Employers in "The Bad Batch"

In rewatching "Star Wars: The Bad Batch" after the series finale, I've realized just how many similarities there are between Cid and the Empire as employers for the Bad Batch and Crosshair, respectively.

I know I'm not the first person to point out how badly Cid used and abused the Batch, even from their very first meeting in 1.05 "Rampage." In fact, @xylionet has a great post summarizing just how much Cid took advantage of the Batch's -- mostly Hunter's -- desperation and inexperience dealing with the galaxy's shadier people.

But, beyond that, the show ultimately drew a lot of parallels between Cid and the Empire as employers, from their attitude toward clones to their manipulative personalities. Even the timelines for the Batch's and Crosshair's employment align very well, down to the conditions at which they start working for them and why they ultimately reach their breaking points.

Before we dive in, a few clarifications:

I'll mostly be focusing on Cid in this analysis, as I think the Empire's faults are pretty clear.

And, when I say "the Empire," I mean the Imperial officials Crosshair interacts with and/or takes orders from -- mostly Rampart and Nolan, but to a lesser degree, Hemlock and Tarkin as well.

SHARED TRAITS

Manipulative personalities

From the beginning, Cid did whatever it took to leverage the Batch into working for her.

Once she realizes that they're 1) desperate for information/money and 2) inexperienced/gullible/etc., she very quickly works to get them on her side.

She offers an exchange of information and money if the Batch bring in Muchi, but she neglects to tell them Muchi is a Rancor, probably because she figured they wouldn't have accepted the job if they knew.

As she gives Hunter the information and 30% of the cut, she says that with a bounty hunter after the Batch, they'll need "friends and money -- mostly money." It's objectively not an incorrect assessment, and she offers them more work. Hunter says he'll think about it, and that's when she pulls out the blackmail card. She knows how valuable they are and knows people are after them. If they cross her, she can turn them in.

Cid ultimately uses whatever tactics she has to get the Batch to do what she needs, whether that's sweet-talking or strong-arming or leveraging them (either financially or via blackmail).

Likewise, Rampart especially gets on Crosshair's good side by initially praising him as an experienced clone and elevating him to commander of an elite non-clone squad. He also seems to give Crosshair plenty of clone troopers as well when needed. However, once we get to the Ryloth arc, we see that Rampart is more than willing to threaten Crosshair when he feels like he's underperforming.

Even in Season 2, Rampart continues to play this game with Crosshair by praising him just enough that he still feels valued, while also demoting him and then insinuating that Crosshair needs to continue proving his worth or risk losing his position.

Assigning morally questionable jobs/missions

While this is obvious for the Empire, it's something I don't see talked about much regarding Cid.

Her clients are shady people, and she either doesn't ask her clients a lot of questions or doesn't provide that information to the Batch.

After she strong-arms them into working for her in 1.06 "Decommissioned," she sends them after a tactical droid. The information it has could be useful against the Empire, but it could also lead to the deaths of thousands of clone troopers -- the Batch's reg brothers.

This is something the Martez sisters point out to the Batch, and Hunter says they're "being paid to acquire and deliver," admitting that who the client is or why they want the information isn't a priority. The Martez sisters argue that it should be.

Granted, a lot of the jobs we actually see the Batch doing for Cid are later hand-waved as being a good thing. They deliver arms to freedom fighters on Ryloth, they reunite Ruby with her owner, they free Muchi from slavery, etc. But, there are plenty of jobs we partially see them do or hear about them doing, which could easily have been "bad" things, especially given how shady Cid's clients are.

Arguably, if Cid ever gave them information or the Batch guessed that a given job was a "bad" thing, they could just not do it for her. But, again, she has leverage over them, so I don't know whether they have much of an option.

Dislike of clones

Basically all the Imperials we meet in the show don't like clones.

Rampart pretended well enough in Season 1, but we know from later episodes that he hates them. Nolan is very brazen in telling Crosshair how much he abhors working with clone troopers, saying he "doesn't like used equipment" and that the clones are ultimately expendable. And, obviously we know of Tarkin and Hemlock's hatred for clones.

But, Cid inexplicably hates them as well.

I think she was willing to bring the Batch on because she felt she could use them, but she's very rude Rex in 1.07 "Battle Scars" and apparently didn't like hosting Gregor in 1.15 "Return to Kamino."

She tells Rex and the Batch that she's "done taking in strays," that she's not running a charity, and that her parlor "isn't a clone clubhouse."

She could feasibly have concerns that, if enough clones start hanging out at her parlor, they'd get on the Empire's radar. But, if that was her concern, there were 100 better ways to say that.

We don't get to see her interactions with Gregor, but I don't understand why she was immediately so hostile to Rex. For all she knew, he could've been there to pay her for information or hire the Batch for a job -- something where she would've gotten paid. Shouldn't she have been trying to get on his good side and at least see what he wanted first? But, instead, she immediately and very rudely dismisses him.

Also, Cid has a clone trooper helmet on the wall in her office. (It's on the lefthand side as you look at her desk.) Considering she used to be an informant for the Jedi, I wonder how she got that helmet. Was it a gift? Why would a clone trooper give her a helmet? It seems more likely that it was a trophy of some kind. She seems to have a lot of strange items around her office, but a clone trooper helmet should've been a red flag for the Batch.

Asking a lot & giving little in return

Cid ultimately had the Batch risking their lives for her and her clients, and was apparently only giving them 30% of the payout.

By 1.07 "Battle Scars," they're also in debt to her despite doing at least 10-12 jobs for her. In 1.10, Cid tells them that the Batch needs "a big score for us to be square," and Omega ultimately pays off the debt by hustling people at the strategy game.

So, even if after 1.10, the Batch renegotiated off-screen so that Cid started covering their expenses and that their standard 30% is pure profit, that still seems incredibly low to me. I would think 40-40-20, with the 20% going to cover expenses would be a decent starting point.

But, apparently, they're still doing jobs for her in Season 2 and still only getting 30% -- their standard rate. We're not sure what their success rate is, but they've been able to complete some big jobs for her. They definitely should've renegotiated up to at least 50% or something, especially considering how frequently they were endangering themselves and Omega on these jobs.

With Crosshair and the Empire, he doesn't really have much in the way of benefits, because the Empire ultimately considers all the clones their property.

They were never given a choice on whether they wanted to serve the Empire once it replaced the Republic. They're assigned these dangerous and morally questionable/reprehensible missions. If they question their orders or refuse, they're labeled traitors and arrested; and if they leave, they're branded deserters.

Crosshair at least gets room and board, but he probably isn't getting paid much or at all. Once Senator Chuchi's bill passes in 2.08 "Truth and Consequences," he might be eligible for a retirement/severance package like we see the clones talking about in 2.12 "The Outpost," but he likely wouldn't have a say on when he gets to retire/leave.

Meanwhile, Crosshair and the other clones are risking their lives for the Empire. We see in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone," that the clone troopers are sent in to complete the most dangerous work -- securing Desix and freeing the Imperial governor. But, once it comes to actually occupying the planet, the Empire assigns stormtroopers.

I also always found it interesting that the clone troopers bothered to get Crosshair medical attention in 1.08 "Reunion," but Nolan doesn't in 2.12 "The Outpost." I feel like the clones, at minimum, cared about each other even under Imperial command. But as more non-clones started taking command, they basically said, "Why bother? Clone troopers are a relic of the past, and we have millions of TK troopers who can take their place."

Lack of intel/resources to complete missions

Speaking of 2.12 "The Outpost," we hear about Mayday's predicament: The Empire doesn't provide enough men to defend the oh-so-valuable cargo at the Outpost and doesn't provide the equipment needed to keep their troopers safe. They have to wrap their armor to stay warm; the conditions degrade the sensors; they don't have the tools needed to disarm mines; and so on.

Similarly, the Batch bring up several times in Seasons 1 and 2 that Cid withholds information about their jobs.

Wrecker in 2.11 "Metamorphosis": Limited intel. Huh. There's a surprise.

Maybe sometimes her clients or sources don't give her information as we see in 2.11 "Metamorphosis," but there are plenty of times where she purposely withholds information, like Muchi being a Rancor in 1.05 "Rampage."

Cid was either accepting jobs without much intel because she was getting overconfident in the Batch's abilities, or -- more likely -- she was getting greedy and sending them on as many jobs as possible regardless of the conditions.

The latter seems more likely, especially with how it aligns with how the Empire treats the clones. They're more than ready to put money into the TK trooper program -- and we know from the Original Trilogy that TK troopers are also essentially treated as expendable -- but the Empire clearly doesn't give a crap about the clones, especially after 2.08 "Truth and Consequences."

Ultimately, both the Batch and Crosshair and the other Imperial clone troopers have to make do with the little they’re given, despite putting so much on the line for their employers.

“All you’ll ever be to them is a number”

Something I haven't talked about much yet is how Hunter is so prescient about Crosshair being used by the Empire, but doesn't see how Cid is using him and his family to a similar degree.

This is something @xylionet pointed out too:

It’s rather ironic that Crosshair and Hunter are both able to see each other’s situations for what they are, but not their own.

One of the things that hit me during my rewatch of 1.15/16 was Hunter telling Crosshair: "All you'll ever be to them is a number" referring to the Empire.

Admittedly, Hunter isn't wrong. As we see, all the Imperial officials Crosshair interacts with only call him by his CT number, never by his name. (The only exceptions are fellow clones like Cody, Mayday and Emerie.)

And, in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone," when Crosshair asks Rampart about Commander Cody, Rampart acts like he's never heard the name Cody before in his life. He ONLY knows Cody -- one of the most famous commanders in the entire Galactic Army of the Republic -- by his number. Hell, even EMPEROR PALPATINE knew Commander Cody's name in "Revenge of the Sith."

But, while the Empire being a bunch of assholes makes sense, what gets me is that Cid is the exact same way:

She ONLY ever called the Bad Batch members by her little nicknames.

Cid absolutely knew their names. She would have to if she was ever planning to turn them in, as she eventually does. Maybe she didn't know their clone numbers, but she definitely knew what they called each other.

Yet, even in those moments where they came through for her like in 1.13 "Infested" and 2.04 "Faster," she never uses their names as a sign of respect or gratitude. Hell, even after Tech dies, she still only called him "Goggles."

Now, I'm not saying that nicknames are inherently bad. I have plenty of nicknames for people, and vice versa. But, I think there has to be an established relationship first, and then the nickname should be a sign of affection rather than a way to demean someone.

Cid calls the Batch mostly by their outward appearances or accessories -- Tiny, Muscles, Goggles, Bandana, Dark & Broody. (Note: she uses "Dark and Broody" for both Echo and Hunter on different occasions.) It just indicates how she sees them -- not as people but as objects. She's only looking on the surface because that's all she cares about.

“Blind allegiance makes you a pawn”

It's obvious to see that Crosshair's misplaced loyalty to the Empire ultimately made him one of its pawns, to be used and abused.

But, as I've outlined, the Batch was in a similar position with Cid.

Hunter definitely sees that their "mutually beneficial arrangement" with Cid isn't great, but he doesn't really have much choice. They're on their own; they're deserters/traitors; and now they're in charge of a kid and being pursued by bounty hunters.

However, as I'll talk about more in a second, the Batch had several opportunities to walk away from her and try to find some other ways of "making a living." Yet, they continue to work for her despite all the red flags that they definitely see but choose to ignore. This is partly why Echo eventually leaves, because he disagrees with Hunter's decision to maintain this lifestyle rather than fighting for their fellow clones.

While Hunter is arguably the most at fault for letting Cid use and abuse them as long as she does, Cid takes advantage of Omega's loyalty the most.

Even as Omega is trying to convince Hunter and the others to -- and I can't believe I'm about to say this -- pit two crime syndicates against each other just to get Cid's parlor back ... all Cid can say is, "You tell 'em, tiny!"

Twice she asks/convinces her family to stick their necks out for Cid despite all the risks involved, and yet they get little to nothing in return -- including respect.

Despite all the risks they take for her and all the money they bring in, Cid doesn't give a crap when the Marauder gets stolen and the Batch are stranded on the mining planet in 2.09 "The Crossing." That's when the Batch -- particularly Omega -- finally reach their breaking point.

By 2.11 "Metamorphosis," Tech suggests that they only do this last job for her to ensure they leave her on good terms, because she knows so much about them. But, it's clear Omega and Hunter are fed up with how badly Cid used them, which happens to coincide nicely with Crosshair coming to the same realization about the Empire.

Which segues into the timeline analysis:

THE SIMILAR TIMELINES BETWEEN THE BAD BATCH/CID, CROSSHAIR/THE EMPIRE

Reluctant employees (early S1)

As mentioned, the Batch and Crosshair start working for their respective employers because they don’t have a lot of other options.

Crosshair is, of course, practically abducted by the Empire and forced to do its bidding under the effects of the inhibitor chip. This starts in 1.01 "Aftermath."

Meanwhile, the Batch do the initial job for Cid in 1.05 "Rampage." They do a one-off job to get intel on the bounty hunter(s) after Omega, as well as earn some much-needed cash. The Batch didn't really have much of a choice in either finding or working for Cid, because Cid was the only Jedi informant Echo knew how to find, and they were desperate for the intel.

Then, as mentioned, she subsequently uses strong-arming and blackmailing as needed to get them to work for her in 1.06 and beyond.

Falling into a routine (mid-S1)

By 1.07 "Battle Scars," we can see the Batch has fallen into a routine of doing jobs for Cid. As she said, they need friends and money with bounty hunters after them, and they don't really have any other ready sources of income (as demonstrated in 1.04 "Cornered').

Yet, despite all the jobs they've done for her, they're also in debt to her. Meaning, they can't easily walk away without giving her even MORE reason to turn them in, so they have to continue doing jobs for her in hopes of paying off the debt.

Meanwhile, Crosshair and his ES troopers have been continuing to operate under Rampart, presumably carrying out missions under his command. Granted, we don't see any of these except the Onderon mission in 1.03 "The Replacements," but based on how effective they seemed to be in 1.08 "Reunion," I imagine they were doing missions together off-screen.

The first possible turnaround point (late S1)

If we accept the fan theory that Crosshair's chip was removed or deactivated/damaged around 1.08 "Reunion," then Crosshair has regained his free will by the next time we see him in 1.11 "Devil's Deal."

Yet, despite the Empire hijacking his mind and body and forcing him to do all sorts of terrible things, he continues to work for them of his own free will. He has an opportunity to walk away, but he doesn't.

Likewise, the Batch have an opportunity in 1.13 "Infested," after Cid's parlor gets taken over by Roland Durand.

But, thanks to Omega's misplaced loyalty, Cid's blackmailing and other factors, Hunter decides to pit two crime syndicates against each other to get Cid's parlor back and continue working for her. (I cannot emphasize how stupid of a decision this was!!)

Even after Cid's schemes get the Batch in trouble with the Pykes to the point that Omega is taken hostage, the Batch continue to work for Cid. They're lucky this was a "family show," or the Pykes would've definitely killed them or injured Omega or something else just as bad.

If ever there was a time for the Batch to walk away from Cid, this would've been it -- either before the job or after. But, like Crosshair, they don't take the opportunity to walk away.

The second possible turnaround point (S1 finale)

Crosshair had another opportunity to leave the Empire and rejoin his brothers at the end of 1.16 "Kamino Lost." But, instead he decides once again to double-down and stay with the Empire for a myriad of reasons that might have to be its own meta some day. (I touched on it a bit in my S1 Crosshair/loyalty meta.)

But what might be overlooked is that the fall of Kamino was another opportunity for the Batch to leave Cid.

Again, the reason they sought her out and one of the reasons they started/kept working for her was because bounty hunters were after Omega. The bounty was active through 1.09 "Bounty Lost.” At that point, the Batch learn that Lama Su put the bounty on Omega because she's crucial to their cloning operation.

But, as the Batch see for themselves, Tipoca City is decommissioned and destroyed. The Kaminoan cloning facilities are gone. The Kaminoans aren't in a place where they need Omega anymore, because the Empire has effectively ended cloning (at least for military purposes).

So, they could've left Cid after the events of Season 1. Maybe they could've even left her on good terms after saving her ass in 1.13 "Infested." But, they don't.

Starting to second-guess (early S2)

Admittedly, Hunter was never super-comfortable about their arrangement with Cid, but he persisted because he didn't see a lot of alternatives.

But, Omega (and Tech and Wrecker) clearly start to have doubts about working for Cid during 2.04 "Faster." They once again stick their necks out for Cid by offering to clear her debt with Millegi. And, while Cid is grateful at the time, we see later that her gratitude is short-lived.

Based on what Millegi tells them, especially at the end of the episode, it's clear Omega (and the others) are beginning to doubt whether Cid is someone worthy of their loyalty.

Likewise, Crosshair's experiences in 2.03 "The Solitary Clone" start to plant doubts in his mind. He was stranded on Kamino for a month and comes back only to get demoted and sent on a dangerous and morally questionable mission. And while Crosshair and his squad complete the mission, and Rampart even praises Crosshair for it, we also see that Rampart really doubts Crosshair and the other clones' loyalty.

Ultimately, after his experiences with Cody and their mission on Desix, it's clear that Crosshair is beginning to doubt whether the Empire is worthy of his loyalty.

The breaking point (mid/late S2)

As I've pointed out in another post:

Both the Batch and Crosshair fell into a routine that provided them security and stability in an otherwise chaotic time in the galaxy; and both only reached their breaking points when their employers left them for dead.

For the Batch, this is a combination of 2.09-2.11. The Marauder gets stolen while they're on a job for Cid. They ask for her help, and she doesn't readily or easily commit any kind of assistance. They get the Marauder back on their own, and Cid is more than happy to give them another job, framing it as: "Do you wanna make money?"

It's become clear to them that she views them as tools -- only useful to her, not the other way around.

Meanwhile, at the start of 2.12 "The Outpost," Crosshair sees that the Empire has started to retire clones, but at least he's still getting missions.

But, Barton IV ultimately becomes his breaking point when he sees just how expendable he and all clones are. Based on what he said in 1.15 "Return to Kamino," he thought he was "superior" to the other clones, but as Nolan proves, the Empire didn't care either way.

As Mayday points out, the clones sacrificed everything for the Empire while getting nothing in return. Crosshair and Mayday are essentially left for dead, and when they come back looking like absolute hell, Nolan first yells at them for not retrieving the cargo and then tells them to get to work.

As Nolan blatantly tells Crosshair, he and all the other clones are expendable -- only worth keeping around as long as they're useful.

Not out quite yet (late S2)

By 2.13 "Pabu," we can see the Batch has completely cut ties with Cid and are working with Phee instead. Cid leaves them a message, saying that their absence has cost her a lot of money and she once again threatens to turn them in.

Despite emotionally cutting ties with her, they're still physically at her mercy to a degree. Plus, even once they made it clear they didn't want to work for her anymore, she still wants something from them and she's willing to hurt them if they don't cooperate.

Thankfully, Phee comes through for the Batch and introduces them to Pabu -- their future forever home.

Crosshair, meanwhile, is imprisoned at Tantiss. Despite emotionally cutting ties with the Empire, he's still physically at its mercy.

Hemlock offers him a deal: his freedom in exchange for helping him find Clone Force 99. Crosshair refuses to give up his family, even under torture.

Just like the Batch, despite Crosshair's attempt to "walk away" from the Empire, they still want something from him and they're willing to hurt him if he doesn't cooperate.

The fallout (S2 finale and beyond)

Of course, everything falls together in 2.16 "Plan 99," as Cid sells out the Batch to the Empire. The Batch's and Crosshair's former employers temporarily join forces to screw everyone over in the worst ways possible.

Although it was clear to us from the get-go that Crosshair was wrong to trust the Empire, 2.16 confirms to us the audience just how wrong the Batch was to trust Cid. They came to her in a moment of need, and she betrayed them.

Granted, I think this was mostly Hunter's failing, as they never should've gone back to Ord Mantell. I understand they were hurt and desperate to have AZI heal Omega, but Cid told them multiple times she was willing to turn them in. Plus, they just showed on her doorstep after striking a high-level Imperial compound. They knew -- or at least suspected -- that they were already being targeted based on Crosshair's message, but after hitting Eriadu, they would've been on the Empire's "most wanted list."

Jumping to Season 3, Cid's nature is made even clearer as she gives up the Batch a second time.

It's unclear whether CX-2 bribed or tortured Cid -- probably the latter -- but Cid also sold out Phee. And Cid told the Batch she considered Phee a friend. (Although based on Phee's comments in 2.13 "Pabu," that feeling wasn't mutual.)

For all Cid knew, CX-2 could've tortured or killed Phee to find the Batch, and she still gave up the information.

Once again, the Batch's and Crosshair's former employers work together to screw them over.

One last thing I'll add is how the show gave us glimpses of Crosshair and Cid's true colors around the same time. Crosshair is first bribed and then tortured for information about his family, but he doesn't give them up; meanwhile, Cid sells them out after everything they did for her. And, if CX-2 really tortured Cid in Season 3, it just proves how little she cared about the Batch (or even Phee) compared to how much Crosshair cared about them despite everything that happened in S1.

IN CONCLUSION

I want to state for the record that, as frustrating as it is to see our favorite characters allow themselves to be used and abused by their employers, I don't hate any of them.

These characters are human. They're not perfect, and hindsight is 20/20.

I know several people who were hoping that Cid would come through for the Batch, that she would be a true ally even if she was grumpy and rude (and that's putting it mildly).

If anything, I think this all shows just how similar Hunter, Crosshair and Omega are. They share a lot of the same strengths and weaknesses. Hunter and Crosshair see just how terrible the other's situation is, but not their own; and Crosshair and Omega are loyal to a fault.

They all just wanted some security and stability in what was a very chaotic time for the galaxy and their family. I can understand, to an extent, why they made the decisions they did even if I find them frustrating.

If you want to take any of this meta and apply it to your own lives, by all means. Despite what some folks might think, Star Wars has always been political, and I don't want any of you to end up like our favorite Bad Batch characters.

At the end of the day, "The Bad Batch" is a family show with a lot of morals and lessons about the importance of love, hope and family -- whether blood relatives, adopted or 'found.'

But, it's also a show about the evils of political systems and corporate greed, and how the forces around us will profit off our blood, sweat and tears while giving us little to nothing in return.

[its-time-to-write]

Omg I'm loving your response to my prompts!! thank you

I have a few ideas (You don't have to do them all) just throwing them out there to see what sparks ideas!!

I love secret admirer stories (I know its no where close to valentines day but still) maybe Reader is Rebecca's assistant and keeps getting gifts leading up to valentines day but she is pretty sure its like Sam or Isaac and tells friend Jaime (even though its really him) then the day of the grand finale and she comes to the lovely surprise of it being Jaime!

also if you could include Scarlett red roses in it for me (They are my favorite flower and the only flower I'm not allergic to)

So. I liked this one. Maybe too much? It might be the longest one I’ve written so far, so, uh, sorry about that. But I liked it a lot. It might be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. Hope you enjoy. also the gif isn’t Jamie Tartt but it is Phil Dunster so hopefully that’s ok

honey, i’ll give you all my time

Good god, it’s February all ready. You have a love-hate relationship with the month; love, because Galentine’s Day and hate because Valentine’s Day. You and your friends would go out on February 15th to get discount chocolate from the shops, then return home for an ungodly amount of takeout and a movie. On the whole, you all preferred action movies with a good romance. 

You’re dreading Valentine’s Day because it’s when your boyfriend of two years held your hands in his, and told you he wanted to break up. 

That was a year ago. You’re mostly angry that he’s a dark stain on one of your favorite holidays. You’re absolutely determined not to let him ruin your enjoyment. 

This is also the first year you’re not with your friends. You moved away last March because you realized your ex had been holding you back in far too many ways. 

So. To recap. 

You’re alone. You love Valentine’s Day, despite it forever being the day of your breakup. Your friends aren’t here. You have new friends. There is no one to go to the shops with on the 15th. But discount chocolate is still discount chocolate. 

Your current job is as a personal assistant, something you excel at. You basically anticipate needs, meet them, and just generally make your employer’s life a whole lot easier. The application said the job required a lot of travel, but all expenses (minus some food) were covered. 

You were shocked when you got an interview, then a second, then a third, then were hired. 

Your boss is a woman named Rebecca Welton, and you’re half in love with her, but who isn’t, really?

You swear you’ve never been in such a healthy work environment. You mention it one day, early on, and she says it’s all thanks to their head coach, someone named Ted. 

You meet him for the first time later that day, and you understand. 

It’s impossible not to love him, because he has vision. He knows what he wants from his team, and he knows how to get it. 

He believes the team extends far beyond the players. 

He believes it extends to you, too. 

Ted and Coach Beard steal you from Rebecca as often as they can, claiming emergencies such as “a toxic amount of testosterone from all these boys,” “life-threatening boredom,” and last but not least, “there’s a new pun Ted absolutely needs to test right now and he won’t take no for an answer.”

(You like to give Ted honest feedback on his puns.) 

You also find yourself in their office when Rebecca is out for lunch, eating your respective sandwiches and swapping life stories. 

They remind you a lot of your parents.

It’s mid-June when you mention the Valentine’s Day story. 

It doesn’t hurt as much when it’s punctuated by Ted’s “he didn’ts” and Beard’s perfectly-timed gasps. 

You find yourself laughing halfway through, unable to stop. 

“And anyway,” you finish, cheeks painful from smiling so hard, “that’s why romantic love is a joke and I am drowning myself in platonic love forever.”

Ted and Beard share a look. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Beard says. 

You shoot him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Well sweetheart,” Ted says, “between the two of us collectively,” here points between him and Beard, “we know of at least three of the boys on the team who are madly in love with you.”

“What?” you gasp, “How did you- where did you- who??”

Ted zips his lips and Beard tips a finger to him. “We know of five if we count Rebecca’s intel.”

You’re sitting cross-legged on the edge of Beard’s desk, in shock. “Rebecca knows about this??”

Ted and Beard shrug in unison. “We all have our opinions on which one should shoot their shot, but that’s neither here nor there,” Ted says. 

“Coincidentally, it’s the one thing we unanimously agree on,” Beard nods. 

You’re cut off from saying anything by the door opening. One of the players stands in the doorway. 

“Excuse me, coach,” he says, accent thick. 

Ted motions in a you have the floor type of way, and the footballer turns to address you of all people. “We’re all goin’ out tonight, and Keeley sent me to invite the new girl. None of the lads have really met you yet, just seen you ‘round. Thought it might be good for team bonding, or something. I’m Jamie, by the way.”

“Oh,” you say, taken aback. “I guess- yeah, I guess I haven’t really met them. I mean, I see you guys around and stuff and I’m at your games, but I don’t really know you. Are you sure you want me to come?”

Jamie shrugs. “Coach is always on us about bein’ a team or some shit. And, havin’ a girl around makes the lads look good.”

You think that makes sense, and then find yourself agreeing to go out that night with a group of footballers you don’t know, and (thank god) Keeley Jones. 

You’re going to figure out which five before the summer’s over. 

—

You have nice time out with the lads. They go to a bar and cram into separate booths. You’re wedged in between two who have introduced themselves as Isaac and Dani, and across from Sam, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas. Roy, Richard, and a few others you don’t know are milling about, and you see Jamie and Keeley at a table, surrounding by giggling girls. The sight is so absurd that you catch yourself smiling and turning back to whatever conspiracy Bumbercatch is telling you about now. 

—

You put Sam at the top of your list as soon as you get home. The man wears his heart on his sleeve, or maybe in his eyes, but you’re positive that he’s one of the five Ted and Beard referred to. One down, four to go. 

— 

It’s the end of July, and you begin to become friends with the team. You know for an absolute fact who is not interested in you, Jamie being one of them. Coincidentally, he’s the one you become closest to. You think it’s because you’re not worrying about sending mixed signals or leading him on. You dropped public hints about not really looking for anything romantic, just to be sure you wouldn’t hurt anyone. 

As it is, Jan Maas and Dani have made the list. Jan Maas, because he stifled his Dutch bluntness for you and Dani, because he openly declared he was madly in love with you in front of the whole team. 

—

Isaac makes the list in December. It had been in between him and Bumbercatch, but Isaac was the one who walked you to your car every night and the first one to say hello to you every morning. 

You’re not gonna lie, it was cute. 

You shared some of this with Ted and Beard, who remained impressively stone-faced. Rebecca proved to be equally impervious.

You shared all of it with your lunch-buddy-turned-work-bestie, Jamie. 

You ate with him because Rebecca was constantly in lunch meetings these days, and Ted, Beard, and Roy were always revamping their football strategies.

Jamie would plop down at your table and say, “What’s the news, Amy Hughes?” in his perfect Mancunian accent, and then listen/add commentary to whatever you had to say. 

You explained to him that the reason you wanted to know who liked you was so that you could be extra careful with their hearts. You knew what it was like to be led on, and you did NOT want to do that to someone else. 

Jamie nodded thoughtfully at that and then said, “We’re all footballers though, ain’t we? We get the shit end of the stick all the time, hearts broke by models and whatever. Even ends up in the fucking press. Everyone here’s has their heart broken before, and we all know you aren’t doing it on purpose.”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s short end of the stick, Jamie.”

And thus begins your lunch hour of bickering. 

—

No one has made a move on you yet, and you don’t have a read on number five. You still think it may be Bumbercatch, but in reality, it slips from your mind. Sam’s moved on, Jan Maas has accepted defeat, Dani swears he will love you until the day he dies, and Isaac stays, well, Isaac. Still sweet. Still walking you to your car, coming round extra early in the morning with a coffee or a water, depending on which “looked less like shit.”

Really though, you don’t think about it until February first, when you walk into your office to a small box on your desk. 

At first, you think it’s a box of Ted’s biscuits. 

Then, you notice a small, scarlet-red rose taped to the top. There’s no note, and all that’s inside is a tiny paper heart. 

It’s folded with extreme care, and you place it on your shelf, smelling the rose. It smells amazing and you make a mental note to figure out where the heck it came from. But for now, it’s time to work. 

—

You don’t mention the gifts until February third, because now there’s been one a day. Each one with a scarlet red rose, and a different gift. Yesterday was an incredibly expensive bar of chocolate (it was life-changing) and today is a tiny gold bracelet.

It’s a simple enough chain, but it is absolutely breathtaking. There is no mistaking the fact that it is not cheap, so you take it and march straight to Rebecca’s office.  

“Rebecca,” you say, hands outstretched, “look.”

She does, smiles, then says, “It appears you have a secret admirer.”

“But I don’t want that!” you cry. “I don’t even have time for that! I don’t even like anybody right now!”

She peers at you over her glasses. “Don’t you?”

The sheer weight of those words is enough to physically knock you back two steps. 

You don’t, you swear you don’t, you’re absolutely sure. 

What about Vienna? a voice in the very back of your head nags.

You reply, out loud, “We don’t talk about Vienna,” and Rebecca just shrugs. 

“Have it your way,” she replies in a tone that means this conversation is over, but you’re the one ending it.

You turn on your heel and find yourself taking the route to Ted and Beard. 

You burst into their office in such a flurry that the entire room turns to look at you. “Close the door,” you say with such urgency, that Trent hurries to comply. Beard even shuts the blinds. 

“What’s on your mind, Ollie Cline?” Ted asks. 

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. You point to Roy. “Do you want to be here? It involves feelings.”

“Fuck no,” says Roy, “thanks for being fucking considerate.” He follows it up with a pointed glare at Ted, then goes into his office and firmly shuts the door. 

“Can he be here?” Ted asks, tilting his head toward Trent. 

“I don’t care, he’s probably a good one to have around for this because look!” You present the three collected roses and the bracelet. 

“Someone’s started leaving me gifts, and I’m pretty sure it’s a Valentine’s thing because of the roses, and it was fine for the first two days but this is expensive, and I can’t accept this!”

Ted and Beard share a look. You hate it when they do that and leave you out. 

Ted sighs. “Listen, do you think this about Vienna?”

You fix him with a glare. “No. We are not talking about Vienna ever again.”

Trent pipes up, “What’s Vienna?” and you wheel around on him, taking your glare with you. 

“Vienna," you spit, like it’s poisonous, “is a terrible, awful place where people think terrible, awful things. I never want to talk about it again and I never will.”

Trent nods. “Noted.” 

You turn back to Ted and Beard, pleadingly. “What do I do? Tell me what to do.”

Beard gets up and puts his hand on your shoulder. “Kid, if you want my advice, take the damn roses and wear the damn bracelet. These boys make more money than they know how to spend, so just let it go. They all know how you feel about dating, so if someone’s shooting their shot, they know the stakes.”

You shake your head. “Fine. Fine. I’ll let it go.” 

—

You decide to tell Jamie on day five, because it’s a Friday and you’re dying to get his take. You tell him everything, show him the roses in your office (hanging upside down to dry), and then hand him the notebook that was in today’s box. 

“Jamie,” you say, “this is an expensive notebook. There was a typed note inside that said, ‘for your drawings.’ How did this person even know I like drawing? I never talk about it!”

Jamie looks at you and laughs a little. You’re very flustered for something most people would enjoy. “Dunno, love, but we’ve all seen the sticky notes you leave Coach. That might be it.”

You groan and flop down into your chair. 

“At least tomorrow’s the weekend,” you say.

—

Jamie’s phone dings at 9:00am on Saturday with a text from you that says, what the actual heck and a picture of a brown bag at your doorstep. Inside is a plastic box of your favorite lemon muffin from a local bakery. He emphasized the image, then waits for your response. 

It was still warm, you write. It was someone who knows where I live and knows what time I leave to get breakfast.

Jamie grins and sends you a shrugging emoji, and you respond with an eye roll and a you’re no fun.

Jamie reads that and privately disagrees. He thinks he’s lots of fun

—

You’re pretty sure it’s Isaac. After all, he’s the only likely candidate. He’s one of the few who knows where you live and knows your routine. Not in a creepy way, in a we’re-good-friends type of way. You bring this up to Jamie, after personally banning all talk of this with Ted, Beard, and Rebecca. Stupid Vienna. You should never have told them. 

Jamie shrugs for the millionth, infuriating time. He’s been noncommittal this whole time. You’re over here pouring out your heart and soul, considering whether you like Isaac romantically or not, and all he can say is, “I dunno?” 

This is not the Jamie Tartt you’ve become best friends with. 

That Jamie would be down to hunt this secret admirer with you. That Jamie would be helping you figure out if Isaac had a chance with you. That Jamie would be way more engaged than the one sitting in front of you right now. 

But, you suppose maybe that Jamie died in Vienna, so you stop bringing it up.

—

It’s day ten. Valentine’s Day is in four day, and you’re nervous. 

You’ve decided you don’t like Isaac like that, mainly because it shouldn’t take you that long to decide if you like anyone. There has to be an initial spark, and you shouldn’t try to manufacture it. 

Still, you’re not sure it is Isaac, so you’re not going to say anything about it. The scarlet red roses hang on your office wall, permeating the room with their scent. 

You feel like you’re dying. 

This is a cruel joke and you’re dying. 

The building is basically empty right now. Rebecca and Higgins have some meeting, the team is on the pitch (including Will) and various other staff are somewhere far away from you. So, you jump a little when Trent Crimm comes tripping into your office. 

“Vienna,” he says, no greeting. “If you didn’t want to talk about it, you wouldn’t have told anyone. I’m assuming you do want to talk about it, but you don’t want judgement from the people you love. I’m here to offer my services as a neutral party.”

You look at him. “Trent. You are a journalist. Your whole job is writing down people’s secrets. Why on earth would I talk to you about the worst day of my life?”

Trent shrugs. “I’m good at keeping secrets. This would be off the record. I’ve never lied to people about off the record, also. I consider it bad journalism.”

You consider this for a moment, then sigh. 

“Alright,” you concede. “At least if this gets out, I know whose head I’m shaving in retaliation.”

Trent looks at you in surprise, seeing you in a whole new, slightly threatening light.

“It happened two months ago. It was around Christmas, and I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

—

Your family all had their own separate plans that Christmas. Plans that didn’t really involve you. Same with your friends. You said something casually to Rebecca, and the next day she told you she had booked you a trip to Vienna. Call it an early Christmas present, she said. It was at the Aumaris Vienna, and it was gorgeous and ridiculously out of your budget, but she said you worked hard and gave her peace-of-mind, and you can’t really put a price on that, can you?

So you went. 

But here’s the thing. 

Someone else didn’t have Christmas plans. 

So when you brought up your trip at your daily lunch, said someone else casually asked, can I come? 

You almost choked on your sandwich. 

Because here’s the other thing.

You were, maybe, kind of, possibly just a little bit head over heels in love with this someone else.

You’re not sure when it happened, really, just that it was probably in August and that it was soul-crushing because you knew for an absolute fact that he did not, and never would, feel the same way. 

You didn’t tell anyone except Keeley, but under the condition that she just let you say it and that she never, ever give you a response to it. Just listen. 

She did, but you were pretty sure she almost combusted. 

But who are you to say no when Jamie Tartt invited himself on your luxurious Christmas vacation saying, I’ll pay extra to get a plane ticket next to you? 

You were doomed from the start. 

To make matters totally and impossibly worse, he couldn’t find another room. 

He had his tickets, but the hotels, he said, were packed. 

It was Christmas, after all. 

So that’s how you ended up in a luxury hotel with Jamie Tartt for a week and a half, one day of which was Christmas. 

You know the, “there was only one bed” trope that everyone thinks is so cute?

It was that, but only if you add deep, shattering heartbreak to it. 

Because every night, you had to listen to Jamie say, “goodnight, love,” and then get into that giant, soft bed as far away from him as you could manage. 

Every morning you woke up to the pillow barricade long gone, one of his arms thrown around you. Or one of your legs on top of his. Or a million different scenarios where you end up literally asleep together, some weird gravity pulling you to each other. 

You were falling so hard and so fast, that you felt like the air was knocked from your lungs when Jamie started talking about the girl he liked. 

“She’s just so fucking beautiful,” he’d say, staring at an Alpine mountain. Or, “Swear she’s the smartest fucking person I’ve ever met,” while traipsing through the city. Or, “Pretty sure she’s ruined me for everyone else,” while getting facials at the hotel spa. 

To be fair, you were the one who teased him into admitting he liked someone. 

You just didn’t expect it to hurt so much. 

The entire trip felt like heaven and hell had simultaneously converged on you, and you never wanted to leave but also desperately counted the days till it was over. 

You came back and broke down in Rebecca’s office. Ted and Beard were there. The whole thing came spilling out, about how you loved the trip so much it felt like your heart would explode but that Jamie loved someone else. 

They all exchanged looks amongst themselves and did their best to comfort you. 

You pulled yourself together and they promised never to say anything to anyone. 

—

“So that’s Vienna,” you finish. 

Trent is just staring at you, mouth slightly agape. 

He finally says, “My god, that’s fucked,” with such emotion that you decide right then and there that you like Trent Crimm and his rainbow mug. 

Now, you just shrug. “I did it to myself, honestly. That’s why I’m tripping out about this secret admirer thing. And god, Trent, the roses. They’re so beautiful and it’s so romantic, and whoever it is obviously knows me well so there’s a part of me that wants to like this person, but…” you trail off. 

“But there’s a part of you that’s hoping against hope that Jamie’s behind it all,” Trent finishes. 

You let out a little laugh. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

Trent looks at the roses, then at you. “Maybe you should talk to Jamie,” he says, gently. 

You reply with a forceful, “No,” and then follow up with a small, “That’s what Ted and Rebecca say, too.” 

Trent stands up, shrugs, says with a small smile, “Just a thought,” then he’s out the way he came. 

—

It is Valentine’s Day. And it’s a Sunday, which means you are legally required to stay in bed until 10, at which point you will get out only to make yourself decent enough to go buy a good cup of coffee and maybe (definitely) something to eat. 

You’ve just finished putting on your shoes, when there’s a knock at the door. 

You take a breath, and get ready to let down your secret admirer as gently as possible. 

You swing open the door to reveal- 

“Jamie! What are you doing here?”

Jamie Tartt is on your doorstep, hands behind his back, looking shyer than the day you first met. 

He opens his mouth and says the last thing you’d ever expect:

“D’you remember Vienna?”

Your heart, which had already been going fast because his dumb floppy hair was all dumb and floppy in his stupid, cute headband, is now working double time. You manage a nod. 

Jamie takes this as permission to continue. “D’you remember how I couldn’t get another room, no matter how hard I tried? That wasn’t true. I could’ve.” He pauses, and you wait for him to continue. 

“And d’you remember when we met, when I told you Keeley told me to invite you out? That was a lie too.”

You tilt your head, confused. He keeps going. 

“Look- I fucked it. I fucked it a million times and I told Ted and I told Beard, but they kept helping me un-fuck it and giving me chances, and then Rebecca bought two tickets to Vienna and slipped me the other one, and they all told me I had a perfect shot.” 

You’re still not understanding what he’s saying. He might as well be speaking another language. Jamie sees the confusion in your eyes, takes a breath, and tries again. 

“Keeley told me to invite you out, but only because I’d seen you around and thought you were fit. Then Isaac and all the lads thought the same thing, so I didn’t even get to fuckin’ sit with you. And then you started sayin’ things about not bein’ ready for a relationship, so I tried to let it go. I really fucking tried. But I just couldn’t. Your eyes are too sparkly and your laugh is too fucking cute and I couldn’t let it go, so I started eating lunch with you and you fucking let me. I knew the moment I said anything about liking you, it was over.”

Comprehension has started to dawn, but you push down hope until Jamie’s done speaking. 

“Everyone told me to shoot my shot in Vienna. We shared a bed, for fuck’s sake.” Here, Jamie looks bewildered. “But I dunno, I didn’t want to make shit weird. So when you asked if I liked anyone I said yeah, and started fuckin describing you, but you never fucking picked up on it. That’s when I got the idea to try one more time. All by meself, no help from anyone else. So…yeah.”

Jamie Tartt is standing on your porch confessing his love for you on Valentine’s Day and it is not a dream, because if it were your teeth would be falling out and his hair would probably be neon pink. 

“I’m an idiot,” you breathe. “You like me? Like, like-like me?”

Jamie quirks a smile at that. “Not quite, darling. Pretty fucking sure I love you.” He pulls his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of scarlet red roses. The same from each gift. 

“Got these for you,” he says. “D’you know how hard it is to get red roses in February?”

You don’t answer him because you’re leaping into his arms, kissing him like you’ve thought about doing every day for what feels like forever. He’s kissing you back, hand with the flowers pressed against your back, other hand in your hair. 

“I love you too, Jamie,” you whisper against his mouth. He smiles and pulls you in again. 

[silverryuan]

Daniel Park with Baoqing reader

I'm back!

• I'm not going to include the fox head or the giant nine-tailed fox transformation. I will also going to make you younger (ex. 17, 18, 19). You will have a smoking pipe as a form of weapon and Kiserujutsu as a form of martial arts. I'll just name you Baoqing here.

• You are actually a young CEO of a company that sells high quality tobacco in China for generations. But that's all layers from the public of what you really sell. You came here in Korea to establish new workshops... One workshop that sells antique artifacts with your company brand, and an underground workshop that sells illegal weapons to gangs. You earned a name from all the gangs that you've made deals with, so as an underground alias, your name is Jade Fox.

• Your meeting with Daniel takes place during his Jaewon High School days and his part-time convenience store job. He still has his ugly and fat body working the nightly hours away.

• His employer came in the store one night to check on how he's working since there's been a drop of customers due to his unsightly appearance. Before the manager could even scold him about Daniel not welcoming the customers properly, the sound of the door opening made the manager fall silent as to not bother you, so he bowed his head to greet you. The manager kept his mouth shut until you ring up to the counter and left the store.

• Daniel was confused as to why the manager suddenly crossed his arms and scowl after you left...

The Manager: "Hmm..."

Small Daniel: "... U-um, is everything okay, sir?"

The Manager: "Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. It's... It's nothing."

Small Daniel: "I-i couldn't help but see that you seem... at unease?"

The Manager: "Well... It's that kid right there... Looks a lot like a gumiho."

Small Daniel: "G-gumiho?"

• Daniel has heard of the myth of the gumiho, or the nine-tailed fox, from his mother. But he only remembers the part of the myth that gumihos are dangerous and bloodthirsty spirits.

Small Daniel: "A-aren't gumihos mythical evil creatures that older people tell to kids?"

The Manager: "What? You forgot the part where gumihos can disguise themselves into humans. The only give-away is their face resembling a fox. That kid that was here a minute ago looks a lot like it..."

Small Daniel: "Oh..."

The Manager: "Ahem! But enough about the creepy stuff! Now where was I?... Right, your performance during work hours."

Small Daniel: "I-i promise, sir! I'll keep improving!"

• As Big Daniel walks to school early in the morning, he couldn't help but let his mind wonder. He couldn't get you off his mind, he could've swore that you looked familiar... His thoughts were interrupted by a rustle from a nearby tree...

Big Daniel: "Wah!"

???????: "Good morning~ you seem to have dropped this. You need to be more careful next time."

• Daniel is shocked, not because you have his phone, but because you're casually hanging upside down with your legs clinging to the tree branch.

Big Daniel: "Uhh, good morning. Wait a second... Why do you have-"

???????: "Like I said, you dropped it. It'd be a shame if someone else other than me took notice of a lost item and decide to steal it~"

• You dropped down from the branch, landed on your feet, and give Daniel his phone. Daniel saw your uniform and realized that you go to the same school as him. Then all the pieces of the puzzle joined.

Big Daniel: "Uh, Thank you. I don't know how can I repay you."

???????: "Well... That might have to wait for another time. As a fellow student, I must make a good impression~"

Big Daniel, bowing: "I'm sorry, I'm Daniel Park. I go to Jaewon High as well."

Baoqing: "Why, it's a pleasure~ Call me... Baoqing. I'm afraid our little introduction will have to wait. As you can see, we're going to be late."

• Daniel asked Zoe Park about you before class started and she said that you're a new student from the Beauty Department. You are quite popular with men but you didn't date any of them. However, two boys who became way too desperate for your attention offered to assist you with anything and everyone was surprised that you accepted the offer, but also confused by how much you kick them whenever they get too close to you.

• Daniel also has learned that you are one of the most powerful students in school. Despite lacking strength, you made your way to the ranks using your high intellect and several dealings. He respects how you don't cower in fear when confronted by an annoying Vin Jin began to threaten and flirt with you. You kicked him in the face for that and the bruise took a month to heal. Daniel made a mental note to never upset you.

• You two grew unexpectedly closer during all those years. When he found out you brought a smoking pipe with you to smoke on the school rooftop, he became disappointed and scolded you to stop the habit. You brushed him off, saying that it's relaxing for you and that it's a part of your Kiserujutsu.

Big Daniel: "Kiserujutsu?"

Baoqing: "Yes, it's a fighting style on how you use a smoking pipe as a weapon."

Big Daniel: "So it's like Jay's Kali Arnis?"

Baoqing: "Hmm, you could say that~"

Big Daniel: "Wow, I've never seen a smoking pipe up close before. Is it heavy? It looks pretty old."

Baoqing: "Heavy? No. I've been trained to hold and harness it. After all, it's a family heirloom and a fighting style passed down for generations."

Big Daniel: "An heirloom?! Then why would you bring that to school?!"

Baoqing: "😊"

• Timeskip to the part where Daniel wanted to talk to Crystal at the Festival but was interrupted by Gun. You and Vasco were actually getting some snacks at a nearby store when you witness the fight. Gun was about to kick Daniel while the boy was in a defensive stance.

Gun: "You heard the lady, boy. Now beat it!"

Big Daniel: "I just want to talk-"

Vasco: "HEY!"

Gun: "Huh?"

Big Daniel: "What? Vasco?"

Vasco: "Why don't you fight someone your own size?"

Gun: "Dammit. Why does a rando always have to ruin a good fight?"

Baoqing, clapping: "Ahahahaha! My, that was amusing!"

Daniel: "B-Baoqing?"

Gun: "Oh... It's you."

Baoqing: "Long time, no see, Gun~"

Gun: "....."

Crystal: "G-Gun, let's just go!"

Gun: "...Fine."

• Crystal got in the car with Gun and drove off school campus with an apology to Daniel and Vasco... But why does she look at you with such an intense glare? Before the competition begins, Daniel kept staring at you with confusion. You sensed his restlessness and it annoyed you.

Baoqing: "Judging by how upset you look. Is something bothering you?"

Big Daniel: "... Baoqing. Do you happen know that man?"

Baoqing: "What man are referring to? 😊"

Big Daniel: "You know, the man with sunglasses with the girl."

Baoqing: "I do not know how Vin Jin and Mary Kim have caught your interest, but it's best to leave me out of it-"

Big Daniel: "Not them!"

Baoqing: "Hahaha! I'm joking~ That man, Gun Park. You could say that he's... A client of mine."

Big Daniel: "A-and the girl?.."

Baoqing: "If you want to learn more information about them, you're going to have to offer me something in return~"

Big Daniel: "Right. Forget I asked..."

Baoqing: "Buuut~ since you seem interested of the girl, I'll only give you her name. Crystal Choi."

Big Daniel: "Why are you giving me her name?"

Baoqing: "For my amusement, of course~"

[copperbadge]

I went to the library this afternoon, intending to get a study room and do some work on the novel, but I got distracted and ended up spending the two hours working on a short story instead.

Georgie has said that Michaelis hired her after she rescued his friend's child from a kidnapping, and it was suggested to me recently that the friend could be Oliver McAllister, Michaelis's old school mate from Pirates of the Riviera. I was skeptical because the timing didn't quite work out, but I couldn't stop thinking about the idea, so I decided to try making it work.

And let me tell you, these messy bitches.

In 2015, Michaelis is deep in his Kingbot 3000 phase so he doesn't have to Have Feelings, and Gregory has coerced him into taking a vacation by threatening a coup. Meanwhile, Olly is fresh from his second divorce, from a woman who just tried to kidnap their child. Georgie is the most together person in the room and she's an unemployed twentysomething who just beat three men unconscious to prevent said kidnapping.

And the most amusing part to me is that because of how I set it up, Michaelis is just trying to be friendly but inadvertently keeps coming across like he's trying to seduce Georgie. Which also makes Georgie joking about trying to marry him for his money in Royals/Ramblers even funnier.

"Ma'am, the police would like to take a statement," Lael said to Georgie.

"I can have Lael find you a lawyer if you want," Michaelis added. She gave him a sardonic look. 

"All right, let's get it over with," she sighed. "There goes my visit to the Musee D'Orsay."

"We'll give you the room. Olly, why don't you go in with your boy, so the police can speak with you if needed. Lael and I will be at the cafe next door when you've finished."

Georgie nodded, but he stopped as he passed her and put a hand on her arm.

"Come see us when you're done," he said quietly, ducking his head so the police at the doorway couldn't see their faces. "And cancel your job interview in London."

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"Stay in Paris. You can see the museum this weekend. The palace will cover your lodging and food."

"I...don't want to offend," she said slowly, "but I'm not -- " 

"I'm not flirting with you," he said, realizing belatedly how it might seem to her, and taking his hand from her arm. She looked faintly relieved. "I'm going to spend the time you're giving a statement assembling a job offer for you with my security office. Any young woman who can spot a kidnapping before it happens and soundly beat three grown men should not be leaving Askazer-Shivadlakia to do a job she hates in London. Now, regardless of that, and I say this as a concerned friend, not as king or employer: be honest and helpful with the police, but...economical."

"Just the facts?" she asked. 

"Exactly." He gave her an approving nod and followed Lael out. They were silent in the hallway and lobby, until they stepped out into the street and Lael exhaled.

"That was impressive," he said. "Young lady has a great right hook."

"She's certainly very alert," Michaelis agreed.

"It's been a long time since I've seen someone throw a punch like that."

"Say it and you're fired," Michaelis said good-naturedly. He'd known Lael since the head of security had been a young palace aide during Michaelis's first days as king -- if still years older than the king himself -- and he knew what was coming. 

"Not since our last trip to Galia," Lael said, voice full of relish. "That time a young hothead punched Duke Tomas in the face."

"Utterly fired. I've found your replacement. I'm putting you out to pasture with no pension." 

"You think she'd make a good successor to me?" Lael asked. He was joking but, simultaneously, he was not -- they were both getting older, and Lael was as aware as Michaelis that when a new king was elected in a few years, whoever it was, they would need someone younger, someone who could more easily keep up with them. 

"You tell me," Michaelis said. "You're the expert." 

"Oh, I've been fired, clearly my opinion isn't wanted," Lael said, as they settled into a table at the cafe, Lael with his back to the wall, eyes always scanning behind Michaelis. There had never, at least as far as Michaelis knew, been an attempt on his life, but he'd become used to never getting direct eye contact in public from the man whose job it was, after all, to watch his back. 

"Fine, I withdraw your firing. I suspect purely on her ability to sass me, she is your equal if not your better," he added, as the waitress approached. He ordered coffee and pastries briskly, then turned back to Lael. 

"Well, it's difficult to tell on two minutes' acquaintance," Lael replied, "but actions do speak louder than words." 

"Agreed. Perhaps a contingent offer? She has a law degree; she could likely earn more than we could offer her for a job like yours, but I think she's looking for the right job, not the right pay. Say three months of probation with guaranteed six months of pay to ensure she takes it, and a firm permanent offer at the end if you approve? Conditions non-negotiable but a bit of wiggle room in the salary, I think." 

Lael considered it, then nodded. "I suppose it's paranoia to imagine she might have arranged all this to get into the Palace employ."

"As what, a spy? I love a thriller novel, Lael, but they are fiction," Michaelis replied, amused.

[thebibliosphere]

so uh

uh

thanks for that impostor syndrome post because, uh, me ... me too ... I wonder if this is a an observable trend in high-masking NDs

I'm also realizing that it exists because I know I can be Very Good at Being Normal for relatively long periods of time (sometimes a couple of years depending on the context - aka employment) but will usually eventually collapse and leave people asking what happened, why did I stop caring about my job performance, why did I stop being a Responsible Adult, why did I become Lazy - and my reviews turn from glowing to sour and -- and that's. When Writing is a Job and ...

well, fuck, Joy.

We're just gonna have to sit and have abyss ice cream about it I think.

Pictured: us, sitting on the abyss, eating our ice cream.

I am honestly so fucking angry, though. Fucking WEEKS of this shit, MONTHS. And not once was my neurodivergency factored into it. Not once.

"Oh, everyone feels that way sometimes."

DO THEY, DO THEY FEEL IT THE SAME WAY?!?

I'm going to be so hopping mad when I actually get to talk to my proper therapist next week and tell her about it. Not at her, I didn't know how to explain it before. I will, however be mad that neurodivergency wasn't considered with this imposter syndrome program thing.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Light-blue Shy Guy

Debut: Mario Kart DS

I love light blue, and I love Shy Guys! But I don't think I can talk all that much about just a light blue Shy Guy, or at least, it wouldn't be very interesting. Computer, let's get more specific!

Name: Walker Guy

Debut: Mario & Luigi: Dream Team

Now this is more like it! On his own, simply a light blue Shy Guy, but this one has a specific job that gives him a lot of character! This is cool. I wonder if we could get even MORE specific!

Name: Shysaac Guysfield

Occupation: Part-Time Dog Walker

Employer: Koopa Troop

Address: 19-87 Shell Street, Toad Harbor

Social Security Number:

AAAHHHH stop specifying stop specifying! I am so incredibly sorry to this poor Shy Guy I just accidentally doxxed in this live post performance. Please forget you saw that. Let's just go back to Walker Guy!

Have you ever wondered about Chain Chomps in terms of being Bowser's minions? They're not exactly sapient like most of the commonly antagonistic species. They're just dogs! I'm going to assume that like real big dogs, they just don't realize their own strength, and that's where the danger comes from. The danger is amplified when the dog is enormous, metal, and mostly mouth.

Looking at Walker Guy, I think we can safely say that Chain Chomps under Bowser's command are well taken care of! A whole specialized troop of Shy Guys exists to take them on walks, and ensure they are as happy and healthy as can be! These Shy Guys are all light blue, so maybe that is the Walker Guy Uniform. Maybe EVERY Shy Guy who wears light blue is primarily a Walker Guy, and you just often see them assigned to other, temporary jobs, or just out leisurely! There is no evidence to suggest the Light-Blue Shy Guy in Mario Kart is not a Walker Guy. Awesome! RPG characters playable in Mario Kart! This is what everyone has been wanting, right?

It seems that normally, Walker Guys will actually just let their assigned Chomps roam around freely, as they just sit on top, along for the ride. Hey! Keep your dog leashed at all times for the safety of it and those around it! I assume, though, that a Chain Chomp would not normally allow anyone to ride on top of it, and that this is a sign of immense trust between walker and Chomp. That's nice.

Walker Guys DO at least grab on to the leash when a battle begins. But that's dangerous, too! You should not bring your dog into a Turn-Based Battle! What, are you going to give your dog action commands? Gonna tell it to Sit and Give Me Your Paw?

It is really the Chomp who takes initiative in battle, and poor Walker Guy is dragged and flung around in all sorts of wacky ways. He takes no damage from these shenanigans, so we can all have a good laugh about it! Ha ha hee! What is less funny is that the Chain Chomp can be defeated individually, prompting the Walker Guy to frantically search for another one. What a horrible situation! You just killed his dog, and now, with no time to mourn, he has to immediately hope he can find another one so he doesn't lose his job. He is under so much stress! He also needs to pay off his mortgage! Toad Harbor isn't cheap!

So, if there are Shy Guys available to take Chain Chomps for walks, why are they so often seen bound to blocks and posts? There is a very simply explanation for that. Their respective Walker Guy just had to go to the bathroom! Every time you see a Chain Chomp tied to something, there is no need to assume it is being neglected. There is a light blue Shy Guy doing his business in the nearest restroom, and he will be back shortly! I promise. Don't wait for him, it makes him self-conscious and he'll take longer.

[goldfades]

✮ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐢 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞. 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | prologue jump then fall au

au masterlist! masterlist!

♡ ─ word count | 1.7k

♡ ─ summary | adam was resisting the idea of hiring a nanny despite luca's insistence that paloma needed one. they met with a potential nanny who had good credentials and reviews. they decided that cece may be the right person to care for paloma, even if it would take time for adam to fully trust her.

♡ ─ warnings | mention of a troubled past, the hard time opening up, nothing else really!

♡ ─ taglist | TBD! let me know if you want to be in the JUMP THEN FALL AU!

♡ ─ ev's notes | oh my gosh, i haven't been this excited for an AU in a while. i have been so de-motivated for so long and i'm so happy that i'm finally back on my grind LMAO!! but on another note, thank you v @drysdalesv for helping me with this au, i love you and you're so amazing and creative HEHHEHEH. anyway, enjoy!!!

"Adam, come on." Luca sighed as he leaned his head back in annoyance. "She's two, she can't survive on her own and you can't take her to every practice, or game."

Adam sat on the couch of his brand-new apartment as he listened to his brother trying to convince him to get him a nanny. He's been trying ever since the move and he understood why but he wasn't sure he was ready. "People are weird these days, Luca, I'm not gonna just hire someone off the street-"

"Adam, there are websites, background checks and so much more. You're not gonna hire some random person to take of her, I get it, but what do you expect?"

Adam, torn between his protective instincts and the practicality of the situation, sighed. "I know, Luca, I just… I've never been comfortable with the idea of strangers around Paloma. She's my everything."

Luca leaned forward, his voice gentle but firm. "Look, I get it, man. But we can't do this alone. You've got a career to focus on, and I've got my own life to manage, I can't be driving up here everyday and mom and dad have their work. We both love her, but we can't be with her 24/7."

Adam ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders. He knew Luca was right, Paloma was his top priority, and his hockey career demanded a lot of his time. It was his dream but he had to make sacrifices sometimes.

"I know, I know. It's just… What if something happens? What if the nanny isn't right for her?" He's heard the stories of those crazy nannies who abuse their power and doesn't even know what he'd do if anything like that happened to Paloma.

Luca put a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "We'll find someone who's perfect for her, someone we can trust. And we'll be there to oversee everything. Paloma deserves a chance to socialize, learn, and grow."

Adam nodded, the corners of his lips lifting slightly as he scoffed playfully. "You always know how to talk me into things, Luca."

Luca grinned happily. "That's what brothers are for, right?"

Adam glanced at his draft photo on the wall, picture of him holding Paloma in his arms, both of them wearing matching smiles on the second best day of his life. It was a simple reminder that Paloma's happiness and well-being were his top priorities. And the more he thought about it he realized that maybe, just maybe, he could find someone who would fit perfectly into their little family.

"Alright, Luca. Let's start looking for a nanny."

──

The air was warm and the scent of flowers filled the outside area of the Cafe Adam had chosen to meet with the new nanny one of his new teammates had told him about. She was around his age, maybe a bit younger, and was currently a student at Ohio State. She seemed like an ideal fit, with a schedule that matched Adam's needs—available Monday through Saturday from 9 am to 2 pm, perfect for morning practices. She also had many positive reviews from previous employers.

Seated outside, Luca observed his brother, who repeatedly checked his phone. Luca couldn't help but let out a soft sigh. "What?"

"She's late," Adam replied, his anxiety evident. He was usually laid back but right now, Luca could tell he was nervous.

"Since when do you care about punctuality? And it's rush hour, she's probably stuck in traffic." Luca replied as he tried to calm the boy down. She was the fifth nanny they'd met with in the span of a few weeks and he still hasn't found a match. Practice was going to start next week and this girl just had to be the right fit or he wouldn't know what else to do.

Adam tried to calm his nerves, playing with his keychain to try and calm his nerves. "Yeah, you're probably right. I just want this to work out, you know? Paloma deserves the best."

With an encouraging smile, Luca affirmed, "And she'll get it, Adam. We'll find the perfect fit for her, someone who'll love her like we do."

Adam nodded, appreciating his brother's reassuring words. He knew Luca was right; they would eventually find the perfect caregiver for Paloma, someone who would care for her as if she were their own.

Just as Adam was about to voice his concerns about the potential nanny's tardiness again, the cafe's entrance door chimed, and a young woman stepped inside. She scanned the outdoor seating area, her gaze locking onto the table where Adam and Luca sat. With a friendly smile, she approached them, her demeanor friendly and sweet.

She was pretty; that was the first thing Adam thought as he looked at her. She had a backpack on and it was obvious she had just come from a lecture, she looked the tiniest bit of tired but Adam thought that made her somewhat more attractive.

"Adam, Luca?" she inquired, her voice warm and welcoming. "I'm so sorry for being a little late, I got stuck in traffic on the way here."

Adam couldn't deny that Cece had a certain charm about her, and he appreciated her honesty. "No worries, Cece," he replied, offering her a warm smile. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Adam, and this is my brother, Luca."

Luca also greeted her with a friendly nod and smile. "Good to meet you, Cece."

Cece settled into the chair across from them, her backpack placed beside her. She seemed at ease, and her friendly demeanor put Adam's initial concerns to rest. It was important that the person they chose to care for Paloma was not only qualified but also someone she could feel comfortable around. The fact that Cece had come straight from a lecture also signaled to Adam that she was hardworking, which he appreciated.

"So, you go to Ohio State?" Luca mumbled playfully as he looked down at his Michigan sweatshirt. Cece let out a soft laugh at that and nodded.

"Yup, buckeye through and through." Cece faked a southern accent which made them both let out a soft chuckle, "Well not really. My entire family has went to Michigan, I'm the first to break the tradition."

As the conversation flowed, Adam couldn't help but steer it towards the topic that mattered most to him—Paloma. He had to know if Cece could connect with his daughter. With a warm smile, he began, "So, Cece, have you worked with toddlers before?"

Cece nodded, "Yeah I have. I worked with a toddler last year but they moved. I also have a little brother and some nieces and nephews.” A smile engulfed her face as she mentioned her family and Adam couldn’t help but be drawn to her genuine warmth. 

"That's wonderful," Adam replied, his own smile growing. "Family means everything to us, and Paloma is like our little princess." 

Luca chimed in, "She's a sweet kid, but she's been through a lot. We want to make sure she's comfortable with whoever takes care of her." Adam couldn’t help but stiffen at the mention of their hardships. He looked down at the table.

Cece sensed the change in the atmosphere as soon as Luca mentioned Paloma's hardships. She couldn’t help but wonder exactly what those were but she wasn’t going to ask anytime soon, it was obvious the wound was still fresh.

"I understand," she said softly, her voice filled with empathy. "Paloma's comfort and happiness will be my top priorities. I'll do my best to create a safe and loving environment for her, so she can heal and thrive."

Adam, still struggling with the memories of the past year, nodded slowly. It was difficult for him to open up about their challenging journey and even Luca still didn’t know the entire story with him and his ex. 

Luca placed a reassuring hand on Adam's shoulder, silently letting him know that they were in this together, and that Cece might just be the right person to help them move forward as a family. 

Adam leaned forward, "That's what we want, someone who can give her love and security. She's the most important thing in my life." Cece could tell how much Adam loves Paloma and she admired that. Her gaze softened as he spoke, it was so heartwarming seeing a father so involved with his daughter. 

Cece met Adam's gaze with sincerity. "I promise you, Adam, Luca, I'll put my heart into making sure Paloma feels loved and safe."

In that moment, as they discussed their shared commitment to Paloma's well-being, Adam felt a sense of hope he hadn't felt in a long time. Cece's warm and genuine personality made him believe that they might have found the perfect person to care for his daughter. Sure, it’d take a while for her to fully gain his trust, (if ever), but he had hope for them.

As their conversation came to a close, Cece, still smiling warmly, glanced at her phone. "I hate to cut it short, but I have to head to my next class soon. Is there anything else you'd like to ask or talk about before I have to leave?"

Adam exchanged a quick look with Luca, silently before nodding. With a smile, he replied, "No, Cece, I think we're good. Thank you for coming to meet with us, and for your willingness to be a part of Paloma's life."

Cece's smile widened, and she stood up, picking up her backpack. "It was my pleasure, Adam. I'm really looking forward to getting to know her better.”

As Cece left the cafe, Luca turned to Adam with a grin. "I think we found our nanny, Adam."

Adam chuckled, a weight lifted off his shoulders. "Yeah, I think so too. She’s good.”

“That’s all you’re gonna say? She’s perfect, Adam.” He chuckled as he picked up the water and took a sip. “And she’s just your type.”

Adam rolled his eyes and groaned at Luca’s insinuation as he laughed. He wasn’t wrong, she is exactly his type and not just on paper, she was sweet and caring and- Adam stopped himself before he got too ahead of himself. “Remember what we both said not even two weeks ago?”

“No girls,” they said in unison and Luca let out a dramatic sigh. They had to focus on family and hockey, their main priorities before getting into any serious relationships. It was mostly Adam, though - after what happened with his ex he felt as if he couldn’t even think about relationships. Hockey and his family, more importantly Paloma, were his top priorities and love was simply a distraction. Right now, at least.  

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[gowns]

i have made a very funny journey w/ autism which is like...

growing up, mom always tells me she thinks i'm autistic or (90s euphemism pop psychology thing) that i have "einstein syndrome"

and yet she never gets me tested

various accommodations are made for me in school - i am clearly "smart" but also kinda just "doing my own thing" and the teachers are either annoyed but give in to my mom browbeating them, or give me good grades for thinking outside of the box

(various cycles of hyperfixations and limerence and burn out later)

one of my best friends realizes they are autistic and we see the world the same way so we both go "hmm" about that for a while

i maintain i couldn't possibly be autistic because i have worked with high-needs autistic people* *i also tend to be very adept at working with autistic people

i notice that my older child (whose personality is identical to mine as a kid) seems to show signs of high functioning autism

eventually read devon price and other books and take the tests and etc and i'm like hmm ok i guess i have autism

by this point i am so keenly Aware that i am Neurodivergent and maybe that's why i seem to operate in a different reality than a lot of other people, that it seems hard to remember a time when i thought i was "normal" and trying hard to be "normal"

like now i'm just owning being an odd duck and needing my funny little ways of recharging and having fun

and now i find i'm actually a bit annoyed at various influencers who talk about discovering that they have autism because sometimes they don't want to go to parties or w/e and i'm like. "hmm. but is this the same flavor as the thing i have? idk what kind you have but i'm clearly on another level of it."

(very silly, i went to gatekeeping one side of the gate to gatekeeping on the other side of the gate. hahaha.)

anyway, i try not to be judgmental, it's just interesting that autism and adhd are en vogue right now. #relateable.

i still maintain that the bigger problem is Society. like, having tiny computers in our pockets combined w/ unreasonable employers who want you to be Focused on a Task for 8 hours are definitely doing things to our brains and making us feel deficient if we can't do Productive things. and then the pings. ping. ping. ping. check this. do that. ping. ping. ping.

and then it's like -- when people figure they must be neurodivergent because they take a moment to pause and dip out of the constant noise and they're like whoa i feel better for a moment -- well of course, taking a nap in the middle of the day feels good. it feels good to spend some time alone and in solitude when most of your day is responding to PINGS. and guess what, microdosing meth feels good, weed feels good, looking at wikipedia or reddit instead of doing work feels good, etc etc. the fact that adderall feels good =/= your brain works "different" or is "defective" in some way.

ok. you're probably different. sure.

it's like the same basic question of literature, theatre, art, of the last 400-odd-years, what is a human, what makes me tick, why do i feel a separation between me and others, what is that other person even thinking, why are we both looking at each other like "you're insane"? why are the motivations and inner workings of this other person so inscrutable, and mine are so comfortable and infinitely knowable?

--

however. all that being said. i think it may eventually come to a point where more people are considered neurodivergent than neurotypical, and hopefully, you would think, that would mean more accommodations, which would mean society as a whole would be more accommodating towards disability.

but i fear that on the other end, it may end up in situation where otherwise-typical people with an immense amount of privilege (e.g. average white americans) figure out how to weaponize incompetence (so to speak) and automate more labor away from them and giving the global lower classes more grunt work to shoulder. all while not acknowledging the true source of that "i don't belong" feeling ... and creating more alienation ... hmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMM

--

all that being said, it's fun to share autistic memes with friends

[wellgoslowly]

fic idea: Lockwood comes back early from a job, George and Lucy are out doing whatever so the reader takes this as an opportunity to dance in their underwear (called pants in England) and an oversized button up (which looks shockingly similar to one that disappeared from lockwood’s laundry a while back) while blasting music and singing along. But when she finally notices Lockwood standing at the kitchen door, she goes over and grabs his hands and pulls him into the kitchen to dance with her.

NEARLY WITCHES (EVER SINCE WE MET)

a/n: I am so sorry this took so long to get out- it's been a hectic couple of weeks. however!! for some reason I listened to vices and virtues last night and decided to write and I've been in a frenzy ever since. I hope you enjoy!! also this is my first ×reader so if it's not great, that's why. however, I'm personally really proud of it :))

pairing: anthony lockwood × fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none :)

tags: @ettadear (ty for the request!!) @givemea-dam-break @slag-for-the-fetch @ikeasupremacy @oblivious-idiot (yall seemed interested hehe)

“here I am, composing a burlesque, out of where they rest their necks…”

It was a quiet day at 35 Portland Row. Lockwood, Lucy and George were all out on a case (you had gotten injured the week before so Lockwood was putting you on time out for the time being while you healed), so you took the opportunity to tidy up the kitchen, which was growing messier and increasingly in need of care as the days went on. it wasn't as if the four of you were unaware of how dirty the house had been getting- you simply just didn't have enough time to address it. You rather liked Lucy's idea if getting an assistant.

“sunken in their splintered cradles, and ramshackle heads, they asked for it…"

Surprisingly, you didn't hate being on the Lockwood equivalent for house arrest. Ok, yes, you itched to get your rapier back into your hand and go back out on cases, but it was also really nice to just have a break once in a while. At a small agency like Lockwood and Co, as much as you loved it, breaks didn't come very often.

Besides, you knew that the second that the trio came home and saw your work in the kitchen, they would be beyond grateful. You didn't do it for the praise, but you knew precisely the type of exhaustion they were feeling and wanted to do something to lessen their stress, even if it was something as simple as washing the dishes.

“You have set your heart on haunting me forever from the start, it's never silent…”

You found you did your best cleaning while you were listening to music, resulting in you singing along to the music blasting out of your speaker, deciding not to worry about any possible noise complaints.

“ever since we met, I only shoot up with your perfume… it's the only thing that makes me feel as good as you do…”

it was because of your loud music that you didn't realize that Anthony Lockwood, your employer and one of your best friends, had returned earlier than expected and was now standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at you with wide eyes and slightly parted lips.

You turned around as you danced to the music, songs from an album that you knew Lockwood loved filling the air. It was then that you noticed Lockwood standing behind you, the shock on his face mixing with another emotion you couldn't name.

You greet him with a smile and a soft “Hey, Lockwood”, but he doesn't respond- he just stares at you. It takes you a second to realize why- but when you finally understand, you feel your body warming in embarrassment.

You were wearing nothing but undergarments and a shirt- one of Lockwood's button-ups that you had stolen a while ago.

Thankfully, the shirt fell down to your mid- thigh, covering anything that might’ve made your situation worse had it been a little shorter. Still, you couldn't prevent the warmth that filled you as Lockwood took in your choice of outfit, eyes darker and more intense than usual.

“Hi.” He spoke in a whisper, as if he needed to save his energy to survey you. You suppressed a shiver at his tone, and his eyes flitted up to meet yours.

You were burning. You were on fire and Lockwood was the one who had lit the match. You had known your feelings for Lockwood for a while- you had been attracted to him ever since he had practically begged you to quit your business as a freelancer and join his scrappy little agency. You had convinced yourself that there was no way he could feel the same- that his lingering glances and flirting were just characteristics of his charming personality. But now, as he stared at you with something in his eyes that made your hands shake, you weren't so sure.

Either way, you needed to break this trance. It was dangerous, and you could feel yourself slipping away into the “what ifs” that always seemed to fill your mind whenever Lockwood was around.

“Dance with me?” You whispered, giving him your best “I Am Totally Not Attracted To You And I Am Totally Not Wearing Your Shirt” smile. You prayed that it worked.

“What?” Lockwood asked, breaking out of his trance. You held out your right hand as the song finished its second verse. “I know you love this album. Dance with me?” And then Lockwood was smiling and damn, if that didn't do something to your resolve. “If you insist.”

You don't know what you were expecting, but you certainly weren't expecting for Lockwood to grab your outstretched hand and pull you into his embrace.

You very obviously had never danced in this context before. Lockwood smiled, deciding to be the one to teach you. “Here. You put your hands,” He spoke, grabbing your wrists and gently guiding them to wrap around his neck. “… here.” Your breathing became more shallow as you felt the warm solidity of his body beneath your arms. “And I put my hands here.” He whispered. Your breath hitched as you felt his hands find their places holding your hips.

It was too much and not enough at the same time. You turn your head away from him, trying to allow yourself a moment to collect yourself and get your shit together. Lockwood didn't need to know that this was something you had imagined many times- getting to be this close to him, finding comfort on his arms after a long case or feeling his arms wrap around your waist from behind as you cooked breakfast.

“Is this ok?” Lockwood whispered, lessening his hold on your hips before taking his hands away entirely. Your head snapped back to look at him, willing him to please put his hands back. “Yeah, it's ok.” You whispered. You see the side of his mouth quirk up as he returns his hands back to where they were. And then the song was changing and he was pulling you in so your head rested on his chest and you were slow dancing.

“When the world gets too heavy, put it on my back, I'll be your levvy.”

You instantly recognized the song that began playing, and your face heated up even more, thinking about how many times you had thought about being this close to Lockwood while listening to this song.

“Where are Lucy and George?” You ask, trying to keep your voice calm despite the mass amounts of emotions that were plaguing your heart. “Took the source down to the furnaces and then to bring back food. They won't be back for a while.” Lockwood spoke softly, and you hummed in understanding.

“It was always you, falling for me. Now there's always time, calling for me.”

You stayed like this for a little while- his hands on your waist, your head against his chest, swaying softly to the song playing from your light green speaker. You found yourself wishing that you could stay like this forever, happily dancing with your best friend.

And then the song ended and Lockwood broke the spell. “Are you wearing my shirt?” Lockwood asked, his voice huskier than usual. You flushed bright red as you extracted your hands from around his neck, moving to back away but not being able to go far as Lockwood didn't realize your intentions and kept his hands on your hips.

“Uh, yeah.” You admitted, looking away from him out of embarrassment. “I forgot to do the wash and I realized this had gotten thrown into mine a while ago, so it was all I had to wear. I can return it as soon as I finish my laundry-” You were about to profusely apologize for taking his shirt, but within seconds you weren't able to say anything as Lockwood surged forward and pressed his lips to yours.

It was quick, chaste- fleeting and burning and gone far too soon for your liking. Lockwood was the one to end it, his eyes wide once more, but now filled with something like fear.

“I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me-” It was your turn to interrupt him, you decided, as you wrapped a hand around his tie and pulled him back down to kiss him again

His hands went back to your hips as you moved your right hand up to hold his jaw momentarily before slipping into his hair. He let out a low sound, something that sent your brain into a frenzy as he kissed you with increasing fervor, pressing you up against the kitchen counter.

You couldn't tell how long you stayed like that, limbs tangled together as you kissed like it was the last kiss you would ever have, but eventually you had to separate to breathe. You smiled as you took in the sight in front of you: Lockwood was standing there, staring at you, swollen lips and flushed cheeks and messed hair all indications of what you had just been doing. It was the most beautiful you had ever seen him look.

He smiled back at you. “You don't have to give me my shirt back.” was the first thing he said, his voice raspy and way too attractive for his own good. “Do you like me wearing your shirt?” You asked, smiling. “Way too much.” He admitted before kissing you once more.

You lost time again- you practically melted into his arms. You were too caught up in kissing Lockwood- finally- to realize that Lucy and George had returned home until they appeared in the kitchen.

“Finally!!” George yelled, startling you and Lockwood.

“Wait- why aren't you wearing trousers?? Please don't tell me you're having sex on the counter!” You laughed into Lockwood's chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Much later, after you all had said goodnight to one another, you found yourself creeping downstairs and into Lockwood's room and asking him if he wanted to dance some more, a smile lighting up your face as he said “yes, of course.”

ty for reading!!! I will be writing more requests now that I have time and motivation lol. also in case u were wondering, the two songs referenced in here are nearly witches (ever since we met) and always by panic! at the disco!!! I hate brendan urie but vices and virtues is such a good album.

anywho I hope yall enjoyed!!!

[dozing-composing]

Hello! Can You do headcanons of brock with an female s/o that is the Definition of handy like

Do you need a haircut? She can do it

Cook? She can

Treat an infection or wound? She got You covered

That her moto is "Graduated in nothing, expert in everything" as a joke

This Is Going To Sound Weird, But That's Kind Of How I Am, Haha! Well, I Can't Cook That Well. I Can Bake Though! I'm Typically The Handy Person My Family Calls On When Things Need Fixed. So These Might Be A Little Self-Indulgent, Lol.

ᴇxᴘᴇʀᴛ ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ…

✦ Another handyperson? A handyMA'AM no less? At first, he didn't know how to function. He thought he was being replaced. But no, "it's always good to have extra hands around here," his employer nonchalantly says. But getting to know you, he realizes how you're able to handle the same stuff he does. Which surprises him because in his line of work, you can't be squeamish. ✦ I can imagine him watching as you give the boys a haircut. He leans against the doorframe as you trim one of the boys' hair. And as you finish, they look in the mirror all proud-like. You ask Brock if he'd like a haircut, but he'll shake his head and walk off To which you shrug and put away your supplies. ✦ Seeing you cook is like watching a magic show. Every night, you ask the boys what they want for dinner. And every night, you make that meal. Of course, you cater to everyone also, but you always ask the boys first. "They're growing boys, they need all the strength they can get!" You say with a kindhearted smile. ✦ There is never a dull moment in the Venture family. The boys are constantly getting hurt in one way or another. And thankfully, you know how to clean and treat injuries. Brock once busted his knuckles while knocking down a door to reach the boys. Later, you had a little intimate moment where you bandaged them up and planted a little kiss on them. He's not the only one to get this treatment, but he's the only one you actually mean it for in that way. (; ✦ And if there's ever a fix that needs to be done, you best believe you're on it before Brock can even see what's going on. It lowkey weirds him out because he's usually the first one to get down to it. But you beat him every time, darn it! ✦ If you ever just wanted to hang out with him, you'll just make your way to the garage where he'll most likely be working on his car. Not only does he enjoy your company, but you understand what tool to give when he asks for it. ✦ One time while doing this, he takes a break to just talk to you. He asks how and why you're able to do what you do. Turns out, he already knew the answer. You're just like him, except for being a deadly O.S.I agent and lethal bodyguard. He should've already known. But hearing your story and background is something to truly behold. ⤷"So...College just didn't work out for you?" He takes a quick puff on his cigarette, the smoke exhaling from his nostrils as he breathed. "Oh, no. Couldn't ever afford it. I guess it was one of the many reasons why I started taking so many jobs. I still wanted to learn things. But I wanted skills I could never achieve in school." You spoke with such passion. Each word dripping with emotion as you reflect back on your younger years. "But...That's okay." Suddenly, your bright demeanor came back. You felt pride bubble in your chest. "Because while I'm graduated in nothing..." You turn to him, beaming. "I'm an expert in everything."

[ghelgheli]

i love your thoughtful posts and your patience in answering questions, was wondering if you had read transgender marxism and if so what did you think of it? ty!

thank you 💖💖

i put off answering this ask specifically to read transgender marxism. i hadn't realized, going in, that it was an anthology of essays rather than a book with a single thesis and thread. having worked through them all i have to say... i was underwhelmed.

a few of the essays (e.g. queer workerism against work and seizing the means) read as restatements, using assorted theoretical widgets, of the rote fact that aspiration toward class consciousness and proletarian revolution demands that we organize with a consciousness of transness. true! moving on.

a few others (trans work employment trajectories, notes from brazil, dialogue on deleuze) felt like re-presentations of known knowns and (sorry!) kind of pedestrian to work thru.

several of the later essays (and especially the afterword, which as far as i could tell misrepresented at least JGP in histories of the transgender child and possibly even metabolic rift) bored me near to tears and were difficult to distinguish from the wordplay of theorizing purely in the realm of ideas. i'm pretty sure i think "‘Why Are We Like This?’: The Primacy of Transsexuality" by xandra metcalfe is just wrong and plays into racialist constructions of the plasticity of the subject while trying to construct an image of liberation.

that said, I had some favourites that i would recommend:

Encounters in Lancaster by JN Hoad. i posted an excerpt of this one recently. the analogies to atomism, the conception of the aleatrix, the image of heterosexuality as the swerving stream that sweeps us up in its currents—i thought it was beautiful and sharp.

The Bridge Between Gender and Organising by Farah Thompson. also posted an excerpt of this one. just a good autobiographical account with clear upshots of one subjectivity of organizing for a Black trans woman

A Queer Marxist Transfeminism: Queer and Trans Social Reproduction by Nat Raha. this is a critical recommendation (i think there is a classic overuse/misapplication of "femme" thru the text) but the concept of "gender labour" (not gendered labour!) and of the transfeminine subject as being relegated to the lowest, informal and unwaged rung of performing this labour in service of gender maintenance is something that will stay with me

i also enjoyed Transgender and Disabled Bodies: Between Pain and the Imaginary by Zoe Belinsky. don't have too much to say about this one. here's an excerpt tho: "The organism creates her own foundation: she continually creates the being of her own species – the condition for creating the ‘I can’. She continually creates her capacity to create that species-being and the ‘I can’. She does this through the collective labour of organisms labouring in common, in order to coordinate themselves as sensory parts in a higher organism. The labourers must move from particularity to generality in order to establish the general horizon of transformative possibilities: the inorganic body – institutions, tools of culture – that support the creative capacity of the human body."

[drdemonprince]

genuine question, I get why blaming people who have just caught covid for it is some fucked up victim blaming bullshit, and highly analogous to shaming ppl who've gotten an STI, but is it okay to assign blame/responsibility to people who *give* others covid? it seems to me that just like with STIs (particularly HIV and HSV bc they're not curable) its your responsibility as like, a person who has sex and isn't a total asshole, to do a reasonably good job of knowing whether you have these things, and then either give people who might catch it from you the ability to consent knowing that, or only interact with people in such a way that transmission is highly unlikely. In other words, having or getting an infection is morally neutral, but failing to break the chain of transmission isn't, especially when that failure results from complete inaction/ignoring the problem, as opposed to *attempting* to break it and failing due to factors outside your control. I've seen people saying that beleiving this is the same as slut shaming people who get STIs, and tbh that seems ridiculous to me, but what do you think? is "if you have covid and pass it on to someone, especially by going around in public without a mask, you are morally responsible for the harm the disease causes them" incorrect/going to backfire in some way I'm not seeing? I do get how the same statement about HIV is not good, but also you can't give someone HIV by eating in the same restaurant, so it seems like there are some important differences.

The passage on moralizing HIV transmission in Sarah Schulman's book Conflict is Not Abuse is a real stand-out passage in an otherwise (to me) highly underwhelming tome -- because Schulman has been involved in AIDS activism since its early days and is very conversant in the laws that have been used to incarcerate gay men and others for having the virus, and for supposedly passing it along to other people.

We can philosophize all we want about how wrong it would be for a person to knowingly go about infecting other people, but when we're actually dealing with how such matters go in the real world, it's not a useful moral or practical question. How do we know that someone knows they have the virus? Do we consider a person morally culpable if they have the sniffles but brush it off, not realizing it's something more serious? What about an Autistic person or trauma survivor with alexithymia, who is not closely attuned with their body states? If I can walk around with a bleeding gash on my leg for hours or a bloody UTI and not know it, I can have a mild cold and not know it. Am I too blame for spreading the virus then? What about someone who does know they have COVID but has no legal protections in their workplace and no financial support and determines they have no choice but to do a shift at the grocery store, because otherwise they'll be fired and at risk of homelessness?

These might sound like extreme examples, but we're talking about collectively millions of people's everyday experiences here. If a person is at fault for any disease that they spread, what then? What logically follows from that declaration? Should we make knowing transmission illegal? We've already seen in history how such a policy is used to terrorize and oppress gay men. It's an impossible thing to enforce, because someone's knowledge state is impossible to fully know or surveil, especially when we're not, you know, providing tests to anyone in any kind of systematic way, and in fact our government and most of our employers are actively discouraging us from testing or knowing too much.

Of course, I doubt that you actually want any kind of legal policy like that very much. I'm certain what you are really asking about is what responsibilities we should reasonably expect individual people to hold. And the answer is, well, look at how they are holding them now! Clearly people do not have adequate support at the moment to even be cognizant of their status. It's not a useful question. It just isn't. If we were providing free tests every day at major public access points and legally protecting people's rights to call off sick whenever they did test positive, and paying them lost wages, then we could talk about people being irresponsible and knowingly spreading a disease out of malice or laziness. but we don't have any of that, so we can't.

The solution to a population failing to take the "right" actions is always to look at the external factors that makes taking the right action hard. And right now? Being responsible surrounding covid is very, very hard. We can condemn every person who spreads COVID (or HIV) to another person morally all we like, but it's not going to save lives, and it's going to harm a lot of vulnerable people in the process, so why do it? Why not instead ask ourselves what we can do as a society to help make it easier for a person to behave in pro-social ways?

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Day 9: Scar reveal / Interrogation / Presumed Dead Characters: Sheegor, Truman Warnings: References to abusive relationships, depictions of anxiety Summary: Sasha, it turns out, was not strictly allowed to hire people on the spot, and Sheegor realizes her employment must be cleared with the Grand Head of the Psychonauts. Which is... fine. She's not worried or anything. Or missing Mr. Pokeylope. It's fine.

Sheegor wished Mr. Pokeylope were here.

She also wished she could have done her hair better.

She hadn't exactly had the luxury of being able to do anything with her hair in a long while—it wasn't like they had a lot of usable hair products in the asylum, and it was a miracle she managed to keep it clean at all. Miss Vodello had offered to style her hair for her, but she'd refused—Miss Vodello had been more than kind enough to take her out shopping before they'd arrived (much too kind, and she didn't want to wear out that kindness so quickly), so she could get a nice, clean outfit and new gloves. (The gloves felt so nice—she loved her mittens, but she could move her hands more freely in these, and they felt so comfortable.)

Suddenly realizing she had been wiggling her fingers in her gloves again, she put her hands down firmly in her lap, sitting up as straight as she was able.

Meanwhile, Mr. Zanotto took a seat on the other side of the table, and straightened up some papers. "Soooo Miss... Delucca, is it?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, only to cover he mouth when Mr. Zanotto leaned back in surprise. "I-I mean, yes, Mr. Zanotto! Um..." She wrung her hands anxiously, her gloves squeaking in the process. "Um... you can call me Penelope if you want, or... or Sheegor."

"Sheegor?" he repeated, brow knitting.

Feeling her stomach beginning to tie into knots, she shook her head. "I mean! You don't have to call me that! I mean—c-call me whatever you want!"

Mr. Zanotto frowned at her, and she winced. But he went on: "Well, Miss Delucca, as you know, Agent Nein is not technically supposed to hire people on the spot."

Sheegor shivered, nodding. Oh yes, Sasha had admitted such to her before they'd left, and she hadn't stopped thinking about it since.

"We're fortunate that I have to be the one conducting this interview rather than Hollis." The man chuckled, and Sheegor wasn't sure what that meant. "I'm sure she'd love this situation if she heard about it first."

"U-um..." Sheegor swallowed. "Wh... what did you need to know?"

Mr. Zanotto chuckled again, shaking his head. "Of course, I'm sure you don't want to waste too much time with this."

Wait—did she hear that right? Did he... think this was a waste of time? That she was a waste of time?

"So, let's get right into it!" Settling back into his chair, Mr. Zanotto held up the short stack of papers in front of him. "Let's see... So you're applying—or, well, Sasha offered you the job—for lab assistant." He looked up at her with a raised brow. "Why do you think you're qualified for this job?"

Sheegor gave a start—was that an interview question, or was he really questioning her? (Why couldn't Mr. Pokeylope be here...?! He would know what to do!) "I-I... I am qualified, sir! I really am!" she replied, gripping the edge of the table. "I can work really, really hard!"

"I'm... certain you can," Mr. Zanotto said, leaning back. "But could you give me some specifics?"

"Um—I—uh... I-I did a lot of work before! I'm really, really good with brains!" She tried to smile at the man, but quickly took note of his shocked look. "I-I mean—I don't have to do anything with brains! I'm not going to steal any! Oh—I mean, not that I've stolen brains before, that was just Dr. Loboto, but I don't work for him anymore, and um—I mean—!" The blood drained from her face, and she clamped her mouth shut.

"It's all right, Miss Delucca.” Though Mr. Zanotto's expression seemed to be very clear that it was not all right. "Perhaps you can tell me about some of your other previous work history?"

"Um... uh..." She wrung her hands, looking left and right as she tried to remember. Work history—she worked for Loboto for so long, but before that she'd worked... at the Asylum? But should she say that? Maybe he wouldn't want to know she'd worked at Thorney Towers—there was a reason it had closed down, after all. And before that she'd... been a patient there, and before that... she... she didn't remember, but she'd worked somewhere, probably, right?

It took her a moment to realize she was staring down at the floor, her hands gripping her head. Frantically she sat back up in her seat, looking Mr. Zanotto in the eyes, but he looked so horrified—of course he was, she couldn't even tell him her work history. This was a disaster—

"...Miss Delucca," Mr. Zanotto said slowly. "You should know that this is just a formality."

Sheegor took a shaky breath, trying to fight back the sobs that choked her throat. "Y-yes..." she squeaked with a little nod. "I understand..."

"There's no need to be—"

"I know, I know!" she cried. "There's no need for this..." Sniffling, she backed away from the table. "I'll tell Mr. Nein that I wasn't hired."

To her surprise, Mr. Zanotto stepped out from around the table, holding up a hand to stop her. "Wait," he said, and she stepped back. "Miss Delucca—or, would you prefer I call you a different name?"

Looking away, Sheegor wrung her hands. "I... um... you can call me whatever you like."

"But is there one you would like to be called?"

She couldn't wrap her head around why he was asking this, and the question itself made her head hurt. "I-I don't know. I think... I like..." Her voice went quiet. "...Sheegor?"

"Then that's what I'll call you." Mr. Zanotto went on: "Sheegor, when I say that this is just a formality, I mean you've already got the job. I trust Sasha's judgment—most of the time, anyway—and I just wanted to make sure we have all the paperwork, and that I can tell Hollis that we've conducted an interview so she'll be happy."

Sheegor blinked, looking back at Mr. Zanotto, who was staring at her with a look that was still definitely not happy—a look of... concern?

He sighed, glancing out the window and down at the atrium. "Sasha told me that you've been working for Dr. Loboto—"

"Not anymore!" she cried, shaking her head. "I never want to work for him ever again! I-I can't, anyway... now that—"

Mr. Zanotto held up his hands. "I know, I know. He told me about the hostage situation and that you'd had... a rough time under his employment."

"Y-yeah..." Sheegor admitted, looking down, only to stomp her foot. "He was so mean to Mr. Pokeylope! And to the patients, and to the brains, and—"

"And to you," Mr. Zanotto finished.

The rage Sheegor felt quickly drained, and she looked down at the floor. "I... um..."

"This will take some getting used to, I know, but here, you won't be treated the same way you were under his employment. We want you to be happy, as well as safe."

She looked at him again, and he looked so... serious. Like he really meant what he was saying. It was like... Mr. Pokeylope.

Were there really that many other people... like that?

Sheegor stared at Mr. Zanotto for another long moment before slowly nodding. "...Okay, Mr. Zanotto. I hope you're right."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "Welcome to the Psychonauts, Sheegor."