#also another coworker quit and my boss is like :^( why does this keep happening

[dinoswife]

౨ৎ Talk to me - Kim Gyuvin

Work is really stressful lately and you really need your boyfriend Gyuvin to spend some time with you and get your mind off of things. Although him working all day and feeling just as stressed as you if not even more is holding you back from talking to him..

- Genre: Fluff, Romance

- Pairings: KimGyuvin x fem!reader

- Warnings: mentions of food, crying

Authors Note : This is my first fic I post on tumblr and I’m quite nervous. Enjoy this small Gyuvin x Reader I wrote for now! I will be better in the future!!

These days work is really getting to you. You are at this point overworked,constantly anxious and can’t seem to sleep at all. Your boss is really pressuring not only you but all his employees so much this month and it seems like you have to work harder if u want to keep your job and be on track with your coworkers. Your boyfriend, Gyuvin , is also very busy right now. With his group’s comeback so soon he spends most of his time in the studio or at practice. You two always seem to talk to each other whenever you’re feeling down. You promised to him to always speak your feelings with one another but this time u didn’t want your stressed and also overworked boyfriend to get worried about you.

He was already tired when he came home, you couldn’t tell him about how awful your day has been. How u feel like every day is the same at work and to be honest you really miss him. You miss when you could plan dates with him or even watch a movie cuddling on the couch. U didn’t mean to break down in his arms when he hugged you. It seems like you really needed to feel his body on yours, so warm and cozy. Gyuvin wasn’t slow to notice your silent crying sounds and how u tried to silently calm down and breathe normally again. His brows furrowed at the moment not knowing why you’re crying. His first reaction was to stroke your hair slowly while still holding you close to him. Your arms around his lower body were holding him so tightly. «what happened love?» his tone showing how worried he was about you. U couldn’t get yourself to face him right now.An «I’m sorry» was all u could get out since you felt your throat closing up.

Gyuvin tried rubbing your back and pulling back just a little trying to face you. You finally let him face you and meet your puffy eyes. His gaze softened as he met your gaze looking at him so sad and tired. His hands never left your lower back rubbing circles trying to calm you down. «what’s wrong, love. We talk about everything» he finally spoke in a whiny but still concerned tone. «it’s really okay babe. I’m sorry for that,I know you’re also tired and stressed-» you said but quickly got cut off by your boyfriend holding both of your hands in his «love you should always come to me whenever you’re feeling stressed. I know my comeback is around the corner and I’m working hard but that is no reason for you to hide from me.» Looking up at him while he had that little cute comforting smile made you actually feel a lot better. He was right, you would also want for him to talk to you if he was feeling anxious. His hands never left yours and his smile never left his lips until u smiled back at him. You know that when you’re crying Gyuvin usually smiles softly at you until u smile back, just a little thing he does. «you’re right. I just didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to tire you out completely. But, next time I’ll know better, Thank you Gyuv» You said breaking the silence still smiling at him while as you were speaking Gyuvin started to wipe your tears away. You still sniffled your nose now and then but you have stopped crying. His arms welcomed you into a very warm and comfortable hug you knew u needed.

Your boyfriend was always there for you. Ever since the start of your relationship Gyuvin wanted to give you as much as possible. He wanted to protect you and provide you with everything u may need.

Even before you two started dating, he would keep an eye on you while he was around you making sure you’re okay and no one is bothering you.

«How about we order tonight? My treat» Gyuvin said breaking the silence and pulling away from your hug. His hands resting on your waist as he looks at you with that cute smile again. He knew how food can fix your mood and make you happy so he uses it as a solution for everything

«aren’t you tired though? U shouldn’t stay up for me» you answered back at him and cupped his face gently. Gyuvin’s hand met yours quickly as he giggled a little. «I am okay. I heard there is a new pizza place do you want to try it out?» This time grabbing his phone as he spoke and searched for the right number to call. You just nodded and smiled a bit as your boyfriend suggested you should go change into something more comfy and he’ll make the order.

Doing as he said, you changed to your sweatshirt and sweatpants for the night as your boyfriend made the order and set the living room ready for a cuddle session and your favorite movie ready to play. He really knows you. After that night, you knew you shouldn’t hide anything from him again especially if you’re having a bad day. He would always come into the rescue anytime of the day for you.

[autisticandroids]

15, 21, 23?

15. something you learned this year

i don't know if i can say i learned a new skill as such. but one thing is like... i really enjoyed making three card stud. and it really opened my eyes to like, how much of what i like about the practice of fanfiction is the meticulous remixing/reinterpretation of canon. there's a way in which the AMV is a more... analytical art form than the fanfic, because you are literally forced by the constraints of the medium to keep to the text. all you have are song lyrics and the kuleshov effect to convince your audience to take the new meaning you intend to convey from stuff already in the show. and i brought that ethos to three card stud even though i did add stuff. in a lot of ways three card stud was just me listing off things from canon i think a lot about and saying eh? eh? like. hoping the context would make it clear *why* this stuff makes me crazy. and i think that was a lot of the motivation behind the fic i'm currently working on, which is about dean and cas getting caught by the police. that fic at this point is mostly lists of things that have happened in spn episodes, placed in a new context by baffled feds and cops. which is the fun part. so like basically i learned that this is really fun, listing off canon facts in a new context

21. most memorable comment/review

so the most memorable traditional comment as such i got was probably this one, on i fold in half so easily (ifihse tends to generate the best comments because it's extremely dark without the ways in which it is dark being obviously flagged. so people are more shocked and more forced to think). "Cas: no officer i am very happy please dont tell dean im emotionally complex" is so funny and true that's literally what happens in that fic.

another top contender is this one, on getting serious, which generates good comments for the same reason ifihse does, though it's a lot less intense.

but in terms of my favorite *response to my work,* it was the breastfeeding anon saga (in chronological order here) which was a response to my fic smorgasbord.

and then i wrote a fic based on those anons, and then i got these very funny tags on my fic post:

23. fics you wanted to write but didn’t

when i tell you about the 120k deanvictor fic which is literally 90k of victor henriksen hunting down a serial killer dean winchester while becoming a little (sexually) obsessed with him and then 30k of victor knowing about the supernatural and moonlighting as a hunter while he and dean suck each others dicks so much.

and also it's about victor's relationship with his two ex wives and his former stepdaughter who he is still emotionally a parent to even though they have no legal relationship and the coworker he had an emotional affair with who he doesn't speak to anymore and how he feels trapped in his life and his job and dean represents this escape for him this total freedom. just living in his car on the road and not having to worry about what your boss thinks or needing to quit smoking. while for dean victor represents this stability and adulthood dean can never achieve. and dean leaves three spare pairs of underwear in victor's divorcé bachelor pad as a kind of little... fantasy. of what life could be like.

anyway the most compelling scene from that, IN MY MIND, is a scene where victor STILL thinks dean is a serial killer. and now he has him in custody. and against his will he's... charmed. by dean. because dean is charming and pathetic, shaking and sweating from mild alcohol withdrawal but still cracking jokes and being friendly and observant and extremely young-feeling, for 28. and earnest in a way he didn't expect. and they're forced to work together against a demon siege, a spin on jus in bello where victor still doesn't find out about the supernatural he's just protecting himself and a prisoner from a threat. and he has the uncomfortable realization that he's attracted to dean winchester (serial killer) (guy he is trying to take down) (has killed so so many people). and he's like well. we can table that for later. and then dean escapes.

so i've been trying to figure out a way to scoop out just that scene and turn it into its own fic because that's actually manageable for me.

the dean and cas pursued by the cops idea also comes a bit from frustration that i can't write this, though the feds in that one are ocs bc it's later.

from here

[quietblueriver]

wait you worked in a kitchen? how was that like? i've always been curios what it's like esp in fine dining

I did! I grew up in a small town in the rural South (US) but somehow two professionally trained/educated chefs ended up there and opened a very nice restaurant that did very well and is still open 15 years later. It was my first non-babysitting job, started bussing when I was 15 and then moved to back of house.

Anyway, it was really interesting and at the time I didn’t think through a lot of what was happening because I was young but later I was like oh, oh yeah probably that wasn’t great. Lots of yelling and anger (regularly took an extra few breaths in the walk-in to keep from crying and cried in my car on the way home), lots of inappropriate comments/touching (front of house had a game called smoosh the boobs and another one that involved slapping asses with order books, and they kept me included even when I moved back), brutal hours and expectations.

But I learned how to use a knife, how to navigate and clean a kitchen, why tread matters on a chef’s shoes, that I don’t do well with a lot of blood but can help with burns, how to prep veggies and brûlée and make dressings and de-vein shrimp and all kinds of other stuff.

I ate a shit ton of good food, a lot of which I had never had before because this was not the kind of restaurant my mom could afford and because it was the South. So I learned I loved Jerusalem artichokes and poached eggs and crème brûlée and currants and clotted cream and goat cheese and balsamic vinegar.

I also really liked many of my coworkers. Family meal was a real thing we did before service. Also ofc had a MASSIVE crush on one of the waitresses whose exacting standards for silverware placement I could never quite meet. Absolutely wanted to shut myself in the walk in after she gave me a talk about it one night. Our dishwasher had a raccoon trap just…permanently in the bed of her truck, sometimes covered and occupied, sometimes not? And I was lucky that there was actually a female sous chef for part of my time there. I spent a lot of time talking to my boss about his time in culinary school in NYC but I already knew it wasn’t for me long term.

I took another job because doing 40+ hours in that environment on top of high school and extracurriculars was too much for a baby gay trying to maintain a GPA and resume good enough to get up out of there, but I still remember a lot of what I learned and I love watching the Bear because, well, it’s excellent and also it does remind me of the best parts of that job.

That’s a novel of a response that’s probably more than what you were asking for 😬😬😬 but obviously they are years that have stuck with me in a real way. Thank you for the ask!! 💜🔪🍴👨‍🍳

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

Guess what friends, that day was today.

warnings: reader has chronic pain, allusions to financial abuse in reader's past

You sit in your car once you get home to depersonalize for a few minutes. Or fifteen. Whatever.

You eventually trudge into your house--and it's definetly a trudge, you're too tired and defeated to do anything as energetic as walk. You set the box of donuts you bought on the way home on the table and dump the rest of your shit next to it--bag, lunchbox, your emmotional support water bottle--

The beasts need to be fed. As you reach down to get a can of food for them, you realize you haven't taken your badge off since you clocked out. That's nice.

Beasts appeased, you drop down into a chair at the table. You can't even gather the energy to break into the donuts you got specifically for this moment because you deserve them, damnit. But no, you just sit there and doomscroll for a bit. And he doesn't mean to, never does, but John scares the shit out of you when he asks "how was work?" and drops a kiss to the top of your head.

You close your eyes, sifting through all the bullshit you went through today.

"It sucked. It was so bad. Like, it was busy, but also just awful?" John's hands close over yours to stop your anxious fidgeting as you sum up your day and how burned out you are, how unsupported you feel by your boss and coworkers.

You're exhausted, and you feel bad because your job isn't nearly as demanding as John's, but he cuts off that train of thought with--

"You should quit."

He says this every other week. You have a bad day, you don't feel well: he thinks you should quit. And he doesn't think you should quit to find another job; he thinks you should quit and let him support you. Most days, you brush the suggestion off. You'd feel weird, you'd feel bad, you'd get bored--but today the familiar exchange hits different.

"I can't quit."

"Of course you can."

"I have bills."

"I have money."

You sigh. "John, I can't live off of your money."

"Of course you can, sweetheart."

"What would I even do all day? We both know I'm terrible at keeping things organized and I can never figure out what to cook, I'd just spend all day doing nothing and feeling guilty that you have to come home and still do shit. I'm just--I'm useless, why would you keep me around?"

"Love--"

"I can't just--I have to have my own money."

"Sweetheart," he says, firmer. "I keep you around because I love you, not because of what you do. Not to be a bloody maid. And what would you do? Whatever you want. Write. Read. Start one of those video game channels, volunteer. Get back to doing physical therapy, you felt better when you did that regular. Go get a degree. Whatever sounds good."

Being able to do physical therapy again sounds nice, you admit. Even if it's just a little time every day, you have to admit you were in less pain when you actually did stuff like that a few times a week. Now, you're just too tired.

JOhn's large, tough hand comes up to cradle your cheek. "Love, there's no point in me doin' my job--blood and dust and months away from you--if the person I care about the most is miserable. When I think of what I'm fightin' for, I want to know it's to let you be happy. Not so that you can go to some shite job where they don't apprecuate you."

He lets that settle, lets you think about it.

"You're making some good points," you concede, chewing on your lower lip. "It's just--it's hard. Because--" you brace yourself to just say it. "What if you get tired of me? It happens, we're human. I'm not saying you don't love me or anything, but I can't just--I can't just let you be the only one with money." YOu dig your nails into your palms. "You know I can't--I can't do that."

John laces his fingers through yours so you're no longer clawing your own skin. "I'm not him."

"I know! I know. But I just--I can't. I need my own bank account."

"What if you went to part time? Gets you out of the house every week, gets you your own money, you can--" he looks physically pained as he gets the next part out "--pay a bill."

"Which bill?"

"Whichever one you want," he blindly concedes. You've never gotten this far in this discussion and you can see the gleam of victory in his eyes.

You think about which bill is the highest. "Electricity."

John frowns. "Except electricity."

"HOA?"

"Water."

"Water?"

"Water," he confirms. "And--" again with the pained expression, like you're shoving bamboo under his nails. "And you're in charge of filling the cars up."

You try to keep your shock contained. John always fills the cars up when he's home, he's gotten upset at you before for doing it yourself when he's home because he is a sweet, absurd man.

You stick your hand out. "Deal."

He grins at you, a full-faced victorious grin, and shakes on it. "Deal." He pulls you in for a kiss. "Now, want me to write your resignation letter?"

Price is just waiting for you to have a bad day at work so he can convince you to quit and live off of his money.

[bakugosbratx]

Sorry if I’m doing them wrong (new to requesting) But can I request a CEO!Bakugo x F!reader? Just some ruthless Bakugo spewing out insults and filth towards the reader left & right- 🤭

Warning: NSFW 18+ content. Sexual intercourse, cursing, degrading, bdsm, spanking, angry/hate unprotected sex, size kink, etc.

Click here to check out my other works

A/N: No worries, love! You did it fine. I hope you enjoyed and thank you so much for your request.

Part Two

Tags: @peachsenpie @awilddreamerwrites @milkthistletea @idfkwtfgof @quietlegends @miriobaby

Your back slammed against the wooden doors to your boss office as he held you by your throat. His crimson eyes screamed anger and lust as he towered over your cowardly body. You still remained tall, though, expecting this to happen.

“You really wanted to test your fuckin’ luck this week, huh?” Katsuki growls as his grip becomes tighter around your throat. The whore in you overtook your lips as a devious smirk appeared across them. You love the toxicity that is between you two. You knew you would be in this position when Monday afternoon rolled around. You and him both knew.

“What did I do wrong?” You squeak out, faux innocence coaxed your words. This infuriated the blonde. You know just how to get under his skin just like he does with yours.

“Don’t try to act stupid with me, slut. You know exactly what the fuck you were doing bringing him to the cooperate event.” Katsuki huffs, anger running through his grip. He lets go before you loose total circulation. Just looking at you is too much to bare. He wanted to devour and hurt you all at once. He will be sure you feel his wrath, but he wants you to be alive to feel it.

“We’re coworkers, remember?” You recall his exact words. He furrows his eyebrows.

“Yeah, but doesn’t mean you can go ‘round being a God damn whore. You brought my fuckin’ competitor of all damn people, Y/N. I should fire your ass.”

“Then do it.” You challenge, folding your arms across your chest. You already had your shirt unbuttoned so your cleavage can be viewed. It sure did catch Katsuki’s attention in the board meeting along with other lingering men’s eyes.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Katsuki scoffs, returning to face you. He begins unbuttoning what is left of your white shirt and discarding it to the floor. Hickeys covered your breast from the event you went to. Katsuki glared at you with disgust.

“Izuku leave these here, huh?” He scornfully chuckled. “That sick son of a bitch. Marking what he thinks is his, but he is mistaken. You’re my fucking assistant. You work for me.”

Katsuki grabs you by your hair and leads you to his dark wooden desk, bending you over it. This is not the first time you have been in this position nor will it be your last. Your black pencil skirt and panties is removed, leaving you in just your bra. Hickeys traced your thighs, something Izuku purposely left behind. You were not shy once a few drinks entered your system. Izuku knows what you and Katsuki do behind closed doors and he was more than happy to help you get under the man’s skin. They are rivals, after all. Why not use the event as a benefit?

Katsuki strolled over to the other side of his desk, unlocking it with a key. This drawer is specifically for you. He keeps all his toys and gadgets in there for when he needs them. Pulling out a hard wooden paddle with, your breath hitched slightly. You figured you would get some sort of punishment like this, but Katsuki is never gentle. Your ass is going to be sore for a few days once he is through with you.

“Yeah, you know what this is, don’t you?” Katsuki teased as guilt flooded your irises.

“I’m really sorry, sir. I’ll be good, I promise.” You whined. Katsuki snickered at your pleading, dragging the smooth blonde wood across your exposed ass. You only got the paddle when you really pushed your luck with Katsuki. This is one of those times.

“I’m sure you are. Count and thank me.” Katsuki instructs, lifting the paddle away from your ass. You brace yourself as the wood lands with great speed. You yelp in response.

“One. Thank you, sir.” You mumbled. Katsuki did not allow you time to prepare for the next one because another hard slap was delivered shortly after. “Two. Thank you, sir.”

The process continued. Your ass was sobbing from the multiple hard hits. Your knees began to buckle beneath you, but Katsuki used his free hand to hold you in place. Your whimpering is met with an extra hit. You are only halfway through and Katsuki is still not through with you.

“T-Twenty. T-Thank y-you, sir.” You cough, wondering how much more you can possibly take. Regardless, you are going to take it all. You are not supposed to enjoy it. Katsuki will make sure of that.

Another slap is delivered and you count as expected. You finally gave out at forty. Your tears and heavy breathing almost had Katsuki feeling bad. He doesn’t, though, as he noticed the slick drip down your thighs. His index and middle finger find refuge in your soaked hole.

“Tsk. Someone enjoyed themselves.” Katsuki grumbles, shaking his head. He removes his fingers to bring them to your mouth. You gladly suck on them. “Such a filthy little whore.”

Katsuki begins undoing his black suit-pants, his erected cock now out for your viewing. You have your mouth open, ready for him to fuck your face. He chuckles at your horniness.

“Cock hungry slut.” Katsuki degrades, grabbing you by your hair again and placing you on your knees. You did not even give him time to put the tip to your damp lips. Your tongue swipes his length and your kiss the tip before taking in every inch. Bobbing your head up and down, Katsuki uses his grip on your hair to control the speed.

“Yeah, like all my cock in your filthy fucking mouth?” Katsuki questions as he thrust his hips into your saliva filled mouth. You choke on his length as it slides in-and-out of your mouth. “Ha, is the whore struggling to take all of my cock? A dumb bitch like you should be able to take it all.”

You ignore his insults as you continue pleasing his erection. You hollow your cheeks and put more work into your tongue. Every vein in his girth is getting extra attention along with the head. You know how to please him like no other woman. Katsuki grumbling curse words under his breath and throwing his head back in pleasure is encouraging you to keep going.

Katsuki’s dick twitches and pre-cum leaks from the tip. You swallow every drop as is floods from him. That was your intent, but Katsuki has other ideas in mind. A string of saliva connected your lips and Katsuki’s cock.

“Whores don’t get to enjoy my cum,” he lets go of your hair and taps your cheek so you get up, “bend over my desk.”

You do as your told, bending over his desk. Katsuki arched your back more by pushing down on your spine. Aligning you with his cock, he enters deep into your tight walls. You are up every inch. Katsuki’s nails dig deep into your outer thighs as he thrust into you. His hips slap against your bruised skin. You cry out in pleasure and pain.

“Mmm Katsuki.” You sob as your knuckles turn pale from holding onto the desk for support. Katsuki pushed your head down into the stack of reports.

“Quit your bitchin’. You’re going to take all my fuckin’ cock and like it. Bet Izuku couldn’t even reach your fuckin’ cervix.”

You babbled nothings into the freshly printed papers below you. Drool sneered Katsuki’s ink signatures as he continues his rough rhythm. He was also sure to deliver slaps on your sore ass when he wanted to hear you cry for him. His ego needed the boost.

“Better not ruin my fuckin’ reports.” Katsuki hissed as he continued pounding you from the back. You attempted to apologize, but your lost of reality made it difficult too. “Look at you, I’m fuckin’ you so good you can’t even say a coherent sentence. Dumb bitch.” Katsuki snickered.

Your pussy stretched from his large girth, still never use to how big and long he is. You loved it. No one can make you feel as good as Katsuki can. He knows just how you like it. He knows how to get you soaked by a single glance. He knows just how to please you.

Katsuki could not contain himself anymore as cum released from his cock. Your tight pussy swallowed every single drop. Katsuki is not removing himself until you are filled with his sperm.

Once you are stuffed, he taps your outer thigh with heavy breathing. “Get dressed.” Katsuki commands, fixing himself also. You gather your act there’s clothes and straighten yourself out. Your makeup is sneered and your hair a mess. Everyone in Bakugo Industries has already speculated what goes on between you two. There is no need to hide it, but something you can’t seem to understand is that Katsuki came in you. He never comes in you. He does not want kids. At least, that is what he always said. There are no strings attached.

Just a couple of coworkers, right?

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[jade-parcels]

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The bunnies’ other jobs!

From my bunny cafe au

((I am so peeved :((( I had this all written out!! And I deleted it by accident!! Darnnnnn!!!))

Anon asked “You mentioned that some of the bunnies have day jobs so do they all have jobs outside the cafe or just a few?” (Something along these lines…again…I deleted it by accident 😔)

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Diluc/‘Angel’

After his father got bored with the wine industry, he passed the whole company off to Diluc on his 18th birthday in order to shift his focus to mining. Diluc found himself swamped with all kinds of business decisions while just barely being an adult. He expanded the company and hired some very trustworthy people to handle things for him so he could finish college

When the business was given to him, Diluc and Kaeya had an explosive fight over it. Kaeya felt like he deserved to have some say in what happens to the business, he’s still a part of the family! But Diluc refused to let him in on any decisions so Kaeya packed his bags and left (not before cussing him out in front of their father, staff and business partners). He was just in a silly, goofy mood. They’re fine now, not on the best terms but they do chat and meet up for lunch on occasion.

He is filthy rich, he couldn’t spend all of his all of his money if he tried, so he doesn’t really need the job at the cafe! Kaeya got him the job because he knew his brother was stuck in a weird, antisocial funk and needed some fun in his life

Diluc loves this job, he has a great time, but it isn’t his main job. His priority will always be the family business!! If he has to quit his job at the cafe, he would in a heartbeat

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Kaeya

Kaeya was going to go into the police academy but was scouted out by a modeling agency. They had seen him at Ragnvindr company events and thought ‘well damn’ so they gave him a pretty generous deal

Kaeya makes a good living off of modeling, the tips and paycheck from the cafe. He rakes in cash pretty quickly just cause he knows how to get it. That, and his dad sends him checks every other month as well. Kaeya thinks of it as ‘I’m sorry’ money. He isn’t wrong

He doesn’t travel much for modeling, which he doesn’t mind, so he kinda just hangs around the city with a lot of free time on his hands between photo shoots. That’s why he got this job at the cafe! It gives him something to do and it’s fun as hell ;)

Albedo

Bedo is one busy bunny. He finished college early and is getting his masters degree online. He works most days at the cafe and on the weekends, he tutors other college students in bio/chem/science related subjects

(He was actually Xiao’s tutor back when he was failing chemistry!! Xiao is very thankful for Albedo’s help!!)

His dream is to become a biochemist, he’s always been interested in cells and what makes up living beings. So having a career in that field would make him the happiest man alive

His mother and sister live outside the city in a more rural area so he spends a lot of time FaceTiming the two of them! Klee is always so excited to hear about Albedo’s experiments or the people he’s met while working in such a bustling, fun city :)

Zhongli

Zhongli is a simple man! He’s a bunny waiter and an artist

He creates intricate pieces based on folklore from different cultures, focusing mostly on dragons. His favorite medium is paint, he loves painting on glass and layering the panes in order to create a 3D piece

He sells his works to galleries, shops and anyone who wants them! As long as they appreciate the story behind the artwork. Sadly…He undersells his work. He could def be making more money but he just does not desire money or material goods the way others may

So he got his job at the cafe in order to help out his dear friend Ningguang, not for money, he only planned on working there for a month or two until she got more bunnies but…he ended up really loving the people he works with :’) he looks forward to working with them now and texts/calls them outside of work to meet up for lunch or bowling (such an old man thing to do omfg)

Dainsleif/‘Sweetie’

Dain was a bouncer at another bar before leaving to come to Celestia’s! He’s good friends with Beidou, they belong to the same motorcycle club so when she was talking to him about the lack of security at the cafe/bar, he stepped in to help out

Little did he know…he’d actually become a bunny…And like it

This is his full time job now, he doesn’t have another for the time being. While he is a bunny at the cafe, he still keeps an eye out for any threats to his coworkers and has access to the offices upstairs (Ningguang’s office and the security office)

When he isn’t waiting tables, he’s upstairs in a tank top and sweatpants keeping an eye on the security cameras and talking to the other security guards through their ear pieces

Ajax

Ajax is a student who doesn’t really have much time on his hands

He mows lawns in the summer and he’s quit his job as a cashier to come work at the cafe! He mostly works night shifts his cause he’s still going to school aaaaaand he’s on his college’s swim team! He’s about to graduate so he works close with his coach to help train the others on the team

He doesn’t really want his family knowing that he skips around in a skimpy bunny outfit and fucking customers most nights but I mean…They’re bound to find out if they see him in pictures people post

Xiao/‘Tofu’

Xiao is an art student!! He wants to be a tattoo artist :)

He’s already got one sleeve of tattoos, it’s unfinished but you can’t really tell just by looking. When he isn’t at the cafe, he’s either in class or shadowing Ganyu, his best friend and tattoo artist. Their art styles greatly differ, she focuses her craft on cutesy, colored tattoos, but she is skilled. And Xiao looks up to her

Xiao admires Zhongli too, they met at the cafe and when Zhongli found out Xiao wants to be a tattoo artist he told him that once he’s licensed, he wants to get a tattoo from him :’)

Baizhu/‘Honey’

Baizhu is a (mostly) full time pharmacist, hence why he isn’t usually at the cafe

He also has a niece, Qiqi, who he babysits often. He loves her very much so he has no problem watching her! Baizhu will even bring her to the pharmacy with him when he’s swamped with work. In the break room, he has a play kitchen, coloring books and a bunch of puzzles to keep Qiqi occupied while he works :)

When he’s not at work, he’s at home resting. He has chronic pain flare ups in his back and shoulders that can make life miserable :( he has plenty of good days that outweigh the bad! And as a pharmacist, he has access to any medicine he needs to make his life easier!

Dottore(Alain)/‘Doc’

Alain’s an oral surgeon who’s a little bit….too into his job

He isn’t phased by blood or gore so he’s easily able to conduct procedures that would make other squeamish. He’ll pull teeth, put in dental implants, remove rotten tissue, any of that without even flinching

Outside of that, he works at the cafe. He wears a mask in order to avoid being recognized even though at his job as a surgeon, he’s usually wearing a medical mask anyways. It’s just a precaution

This has nothing to do with his career but he used to be a tap dancer and actor so he’d join in on local theatre shows! He helped build sets when he wasn’t rehearsing. He doesn’t have time for that anymore (which kinda makes him sadddd) but he has all kinds of theatre playlists on his phone and in his car that he’ll sing along to

Scaramouche/‘Boss’

Scara’s job at the cafe is his main job! His side job is something you may not expect from such a grump

He works at an animal shelter! In fact, he brings cats home to train so they have an increased chance of being adopted. Someone is more likely to adopt a potty trained, socialized cat than a feral cat who doesn’t know what a litter box is. So Scara brings them to his apartment for some one-on-one socializing, training and cuddling

One time he offhandedly mentioned working at an animal shelter while he was working at the cafe and sure enough, three separate customers from the cafe came by to adopt!!! Only one actually took an animal home but he was still surprised that those people had listened to him and cared enough to come by

Scara is a jerk most of the time but when he’s at home…by himself…With a lil kitten sleeping in his lap while he plays games on his PC…Yeah, he softens up a bit

So as you can see, we have a very diverse group working at the cafe! They’ve all learned a lot from each other, come to appreciate each other’s friendship and come to help each other out when one of their coworkers is in need or upset.

[canwriteitbetterthanueverfeltit]

@msnova-scotia @gaymergal since you asked!

Basically my main boss took over scheduling a few months ago, a job that she was not trained for and has taken away from the employee who had been being trained for it for like 2 years and had already taken over that responsibility, and shes terrible at it because she refuses to understand why we need the desks staffed and constantly has us working skeleton crews without trying to fill holes. I was out sick, and she didn't look for anyone to cover me, so had to move someone who was doing their own job over to cover the desk. We had someone quit a bit ago, with more than 2 weeks notice, and it turns out she also hasn't covered /their/ shifts. So my coworker, T, gets a call asking if she or the person in the back (doing off desk work that she does every single week) could come cover that shift for the afternoon. T normally does not do desk shifts unless she's covering, because she has many other jobs to do, and now she's gonna be on desk /all day/, but she goes down anyway, once she gets relieved upstairs. Only to discover the single person on desk downstairs, who was going to be working alone before the boss suddenly decided to call T down, is crying her eyes out because her DAD JUST DIED.

T is, obviously, like GO HOME. And volunteers to work the desk alone without a break. Another coworker, K, also with no normal desk shifts, stops on her way to lunch, and offers to work the desk instead. The boss, instead of being relieved that there's now full coverage, is FURIOUS. She's been making getting your breaks into like a gigantic strict thing (before we could just take more time the next day or leave early or whatever, balance it out as it happened to work. She refuses to let us do this.) and starts yelling about how they have to take a break. T says she'll leave early if the boss will let her, so she's not over her allowed hours, which makes the boss angrier. She sends them both on break and says /she'll/ work the desk- which she almost never does. This woman doesn't even know how to open the main program we use on these computers. She doesn't know basically anything about our jobs. She has never made a library card.

T and K go, because they have to. When T comes back from her break, the boss decides to yell at her about how "inflexible" she's been that day, from her coming downstairs when called (literally mad at her for pointing out that the other person named was doing work in the back and for waiting a few minutes for relief) to trying to "get out of breaks". She is loudly going off AT THE DESK while T keeps saying she doesn't feel comfortable talking in front of patrons and could they please go talk in the back, and getting ignored the whole time. K comes over to see wtf is happening and finally the boss looks up, sees her, and leaves. Only to send her husband in (reoccurring thing) to sit as close to the desk as possible without being easily seen. Assumedly to listen and hear if they started complaining or whatever.

Then she comes back and casually pulls out a library card registration she did and asks if "anyone needs something to do", and wants them to fix it. It's not filled out right, and the actual record in the computer is like at least half empty. When they try to nicely show her that there's a cheat sheet for this, which she should know since a different employee is having a weird amount of problems making cards and we specifically said we'd put the cheat sheet there for /her/, she gets all mad about how she shouldn't be expected to know where anything is on the desk. Even though she keeps trying to cover holes by offering to work the desk herself.

Apparently she called upstairs and asked the person on desk questions, and that person was the coworker who is hard of hearing and has trouble even when you're face to face, so she really should've bit the bullet and grabbed T to ask.

Also, she's been here almost a year, why tf doesn't she know how anything works yet.

There's more but this was the main stuff while I was sick, mostly things are just piling more and more up because of her terrible decisions

So, I checked my work email while home sick today and saw TWO vague and troubling vent emails to our union and I have been like internally vibrating to know wtf went on during the 2 days I was out and what in the world am I gonna walk into tomorrow

[ptergwen]

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

-

peter parker taglist

@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12

-

if i forgot you please lmk!

[rainofaugustsith]

SWTOR: On "too easy"

I keep seeing posts elsewhere from "serious gamers" saying "waaah, they nerfed the game, IT'S TOO EASY NOW." I keep seeing posts from people who seem to think the only way to "save" SWTOR is to make it really difficult. And posts that cast judgment on those who prefer a more laid-back approach. 

I can't stand that. Truly, one of the worst things about gaming is some of the playerbase. 

I fully believe that where possible, content should have story/veteran/NiM modes available, the way KOTFE, KOTET and the non-story flashpoints do. If someone's idea of fun is to run every single thing with extreme difficulty, and that's what they get a charge from, let them at it...as long as it doesn't mean everyone else has to play that way too. That's where these discussions usually go off the rails, since these folks seem to think that everyone should play at an arbitrary high standard they deem acceptable. 

A lot of different types of players love SWTOR. Some really do want NiM all the time. Others want to decorate strongholds or dress their characters. Some are all about story. Some love the group aspect and always want to play with guildies or friends; others steer clear of all interaction with other players. Some do a mix of all of the above. Some avoid certain activities at all costs. 

I'm a solo story player. For me, extreme challenge isn't fun. It's usually enough to get me to quit. It's not fun for me to die over and over in a game or to struggle with complicated mechanics where one misstep means death. I hate things like the Onderon datacrons. I felt that Spirit of Vengeance was originally tuned way too high and had way too many mobs, even though I was fully able to finish it. 

I've gone in and done some more difficult things like Dread Seeds and veteran flashpoints solo because I wanted to see the content and complete those missions. If the entire game was tuned like the last Dread Seeds mission or those veteran flashpoints, I'd likely leave in about two seconds. In the longterm, it's not pleasant for me. It's physically painful, it's boring and I don't find it relaxing or fun.

No one playstyle is "correct" or "normal." They all are. What's abnormal is when someone insists everyone has to play a certain way. What would I say to those gatekeepers whining about content being too easy? 

The story content isn't getting people ready for endgame. 

So? 

You're assuming everyone wants to play endgame content. They don't. There's nothing Bioware could do, say or bribe me with that would get me into things like Ops, ranked PvP, PvP at all, PUGs or Master Mode flashpoints. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I am here for the story. Period. 

A training ground for endgame content exists in the form of flashpoints. The flashpoints in the game do get progressively tougher. If someone's truly interested in getting raid-worthy skills they're likely going to be doing solo flashpoints. And using groupfinder or joining a guild that works to help players progress. There are options, and those who are interested in raids will seek them out. 

But the story is so easy. It's a faceroll. Games are about challenge.  

Challenge means different things to different people.

Everyone has different abilities. You might roll through every flashpoint. The next player might die seven times just getting through the first tomb on Korriban. By the way, I'm "next player." I think my first toon may have kicked the bucket before even getting into Ajunta Pall's tomb. The word "easy" is very, very relative. 

Also, for some of us, easier content is relaxing and fun. The same way some people like a leisurely bicycle ride along the bike path and others train for the Tour de France. 

If challenge for you involves very difficult gameplay, it does exist. Go join a NiM guild for raids. Go play ranked PvP. Play another game. Why does everyone else need to play the way you play? 

People aren't grouping. They should be forced to group. 

Because you think they should? What gives you any right to dictate how other people play or who they play the game with? Are you the National Gaming Czar and nobody told us? 

This "grouping should be compulsory!" belief is bullshit. People who want to group WILL group. That's always been the case. Hell, I remember being a kid and playing single player console games with friends. We'd take turns, cheer each other on, and yell out advice to the person playing. We found a way to play in a group because we wanted to. 

Right now, the people in SWTOR there are guilds and healthy incentives to join them. Right now, the people in SWTOR who want to play with a friend or friends can do that. Even in things like class stories or KOTFE where it only progresses for one person, they can still come along and help. There are multiple opportunities in the game for players to meet each other. There are social media sites where they can do the same. There's group finder. There are people who look for groups on the fleet. There are PvP and GSF where they can play against others. 

Bottom line? Anyone who wants to group has multiple ways to accomplish that at this very moment. 

Those who aren't grouping likely do not want to group. They don't have to explain why. If you force them to group one of two things will probably happen: they will do it and hate every second of it and not want to be there, or they will stop playing. Which is more likely? Well, I'm sure we've all finished Oricon, Iokath and Macrobinoculars, right? Oh wait...

This is a game. It's not supposed to be like a job where you have coworkers you detest and still have to interact with them. It's not some life skill. It's. A. Game. Get over it if people don't want to play with you.   There should always be open world PvP. Sure, if you want a mass exodus from the game in about a day. The minute they make open world PvP non-optional or make PvP content compulsory is the day I stop playing. And I don't think I'm alone there. I feel like this comment usually comes from people who are frustrated that others don't accept their duel requests and that there isn't a huge pool of players for PVP matches. They can't get people to play with them voluntarily so they want to force it. And you should be able to tag a mob someone else is working on. I keep seeing this brought up as an ideal in other games. It seems to be a way to force people to group with you even if they've said no to an invite. You know what will happen with this? You'll have players hitting the mob once and getting credit/loot without any effort. Or you will have players following around other players to "share mobs" with them even when that other player wants to be left alone. I'm of the opinion that any type of group play should be consensual in all cases, not forced on players because they happen to be in open world.

*sigh* It's an MMO. 

And? MMO doesn't mean "group all the time" or even some of the time. It means a lot of players are co-existing in a shared online world. It means the ability to group should exist - and it does. 

People come into group content and don't know what to do. 

#1: Everyone starts somewhere. We all know that you were so miraculously gifted that you came out of the womb knowing advanced mechanisms for every boss fight, but most of us didn't. 

#2. If you want to play strictly with a team of veteran players, join a guild, make some friends in the game and have fun. That's a lot more realistic than expecting random players in a PUG or groupfinder to meet whatever your exacting specifications are. 

#3. Blame the devs for forcing players into Groupfinder to complete Galactic Seasons and other objectives. There are plenty of people who wouldn't be there if that weren't the case. 

People come into flashpoints and want to watch the cut scenes. 

Hang on. Let me process this. In a story based game, players want to watch the cut scenes? For real? That's completely unreasonable! /sarcasm

In the latest flashpoints, they've more or less removed all the cut scenes. You have your wish granted. For the older flashpoints, there are still many that don't have solo/story mode. The only way people can see those cut scenes is in veteran or master. If you have an issue with this, start advocating to the devs to make solo story versions of those flashpoints.  I feel like the bottom line is that everyone has the right to ask for the type of gaming experience they want, but they don't have the right to insist everyone else should share that experience.

[jjungkookislife]

Quarterly Fic Recs 2021 #2

Hello! I’m back with another rec list! Here are fics I’ve read, loved and thoroughly enjoyed in the second quarter of 2021! They are all very wonderful fics! Each story has its own genre, warnings (and are mostly 18+), so please take that into consideration before reading. If any authors would like me to untag them, please let me know. Enjoy!

Yoongi

before i leave you @hollyhomburg

summary: Yoongi Disappears- leaving behind a shattered pack. 8 months later, Jimin finds Yoongi in an H-mart of all places.

Hoseok

heart-on @junghelioseok

summary: my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick

Jungkook

charmolypi @njssi

summary: Work and pleasure should never be combined — or so the saying goes. But you were never really one to follow the rules in their entirety and neither were the ones around you. Love, lust, interest. Five people. In the workplace. What could go wrong? Everyone just wants to get something, after all.

when you least expect it @johobi

summary: You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

wherever there is you @jeonstudios

summary: you’ve been drinking, haven’t you?

instant gratification @dovechim

fuckboi@jungkook x cheerleader!reader

haze @yyooni

summary: So you’ve fucked the biggest fuck boy on campus. It’s a one and done. One night stand. A wham bam thank you ma’am. So why does it happen again?

OT7/Multiple Members

because i’m yours @minniepetals

summary: you should have known they’d never let you go after gathering the courage to ask for a kiss

blazed @ironicarmy

summary: Your friends try to cheer you up during Christmastime, but things go south once Hoseok appears with a mysterious brown bag.

Seokjin

one step @cutechim

summary:  attending an ex’s wedding is never easy, but you might just have the perfect remedy—if you can pluck up the courage to take it.

platonic @joheunsaram

summary: Finding a new method for stress relief, you rope in your bestfriend/fwb to try it out with you.

show me yours and i’ll show you mine @ktheist

summary: you’re a horny bunny yet kim seokjin always seems to manage to slide out of your grasps like a fox every time.

Yoongi

before i leave you pt. 7 @/hollyhomburg

summary: Pack omega kim Seokjin knows how to handle things when they go south (or alternatively you get triggered, Yoongi has a panic attack, and it’s a good thing the pack is there to help)

Hoseok

risky business @yoonjinkooked

summary: The person who invented smart glass office walls knew what they were doing. Your secretary fucks you stupid in the office.

snapshot @xjoonchildx

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

keep me warm @ppersonna

summary: camping is always a great time when you’re with your friends, but even better with your boyfriend, hoseok.

it’s you @jinpanman

summary: An accidental confession throws your years-long friendship with Hoseok into disarray.

Namjoon

love bytes @stutterfly

summary: It’s been a year since you first met Kim Namjoon, the passionate, talented English professor at the local campus. He’s always been clumsy and aloof, but he’s on a whole new level in terms of “technologically incapable.” One call to IT was all it took to pull you into his life, and with it a whole string of friendships full of flirtatious banter and undying support.

Your dating situation has been drier than the Sahara for years now, and you’ve wasted too many lonely nights drinking alone, so you try your hand at Tinder. But you’re not getting any bites. When the group finds out, they are more than willing to help–even Namjoon, though he finds it increasingly difficult to deny that he’s hopelessly smitten. You consider their opinions on potential Tinder dates while fighting off feelings you never knew were brewing for the caring soul who becomes the home you never had.

out of my league @/ppersona

summary: Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

so this is love @jinpanman

summary: “So this is the miracle that I’ve been dreaming of. So this is love.”

problem solved @sugasbabiie

summary: Namjoon helps you with more than math problems tonight.

love is @hxseok-honee

summary: they say that love is supposed to transcend time and space and that it knows no limits. but putting an ocean and thousands of miles between two people won’t make things any easier, will it? 

Jimin

potent pink @dntaewithluv

summary: The first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

Taehyung

hush, yeah? @kithtaehyung

summary: the innocent accident that started it all

unfinished business @/dntaewithluv

summary: Besides wanting to catch up with some old friends, there’s only one reason you found yourself agreeing to attend your 10 year high school reunion. The boy you were in love with back then is going to be there, and you’re determined to finally make your move. Except, unfortunately, it turns out that Kim Seokjin is very much happily married. Kim Taehyung, however, is very much single and feels like he has something to prove to you after you turned him down all those years ago. One night is all it takes to make you realize you made the biggest mistake of your life.

under the covers @jessikahathaway

spy!au

darling @bloomsuga

summary: “go to sleep, darling.”

as endless as the stars ^

summary: he waited 160 years to meet you again, and now that he has, he’s not letting go. or: “i love you as deep as the ocean and as endless as the stars”

dirty dishes @jaysdimples

summary: when your boyfriend can’t seem to keep his hands to himself so he stirs up a little trouble in the kitchen while everyone else is a few feet away in the next room

devotion @/sweetbunnykook

summary: You and Taehyung were inseparable once. When you come back to your hometown after three years, fate pulls you back to him. And this time, Taehyung won’t ever keep his eyes off of you.

Jungkook

commercial break; twelve @1kook

summary: Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.

tease @adonis-koo

summary:You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

jock!jk @angelguk

summary: going raw with jock jk

evolution of a lover’s heart @jeonstudios

summary: the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.

euphoria @btssavedmylifeblr

summary: At the end of your life, you are given one day to live again with the man you loved. A lifetime’s love story told in a single day.

idealizations concerning real life relations @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

relax @itsbuffsanta

summary: jk is antsy after the concert, so you help him relax.

employee of the month @/dntaewithluv

summary: Sometimes it truly amazes you how much of an idiot your boyfriend can be. But you also find it impossible to say no to him. Even when it involves letting him fuck you at his work on the same day that he gets awarded employee of the month…

ego 08 @suga-kookiemonster

summary: what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.

only you 10 @sweetbunnykook 

summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.  

lunchbox lovers @jiminrings

stem major!koo x cold senior!y/n

crunchyroll & rail @/1kook

summary: Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket.

only for you @jikookiekosmos

summary: It’s the night before your wedding and you should be happy…but a fight with your fiancé leaves you second guessing everything. A visit from the blue-haired boy of your dreams is just what you need to make it right.

lillies @dewykth

summary: “… white lines, pretty baby, tattoos, don’t know what they mean, they’re special just for you…”

bluekooberry @kimtaehyunq

summary: Your adoring boyfriend, Jungkook, surprises you with a brand new hairstyle before your trip to visit him for the weekend. He’s excited to see you, feed you, and give you exactly what you want.

bad reputation @noteguk

summary: in which you have to deal with some strange emotions for the first time.

not yet @bratkook

summary: jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship

incoming: elite chatboy @kookingtae

summary: welcome to Elite Chatroom, a sex chat company with a wide variety of services such as text messaging, phone call, and video chat. you signed up online for the most basic text service plan not knowing what to expect, but you certainly didn’t think you’d end up actually liking the man behind the screen.

ineffable @euphoria-vmin7

summary: your best friend Jeon Jeongguk has always been amazing and deserved the best, so you’ve hid your love for him. But unbeknowsnt to you, there may be feelings that could change everything between you two…

touch @gardentulips

summary: when you tease and please one another

Multiple Members

friendly fire @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The dynamic: Hoseok; your friend and previous fuck buddy. Jungkook; Hoseok’s roommate and subject of your massive crush. The scene: determined not to drunk-gush about your crush any more (to his face), you decide to seclude yourself from all campus parties. Until, of course, Hoseok guilts you into a favor. Things spiral from there.

the boys are back in town @/dntaewithluv

summary: Getting stood up by your date definitely hadn’t been on your agenda for the evening. Also definitely not on your agenda: bumping into Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Together. On the same exact night. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your two best friends, as well as lovers on multiple occasions, from your high school and college days. A chance meeting, some drinks, and a trip down memory lane is all it takes to reignite the attraction between the three of you. Old habits die hard, but these two? They just might be the death of you.

ruin you @taegularities

summary: “His eyes hold unfathomable darkness that lures you in, captures your very soul, steals any air you are trying to draw. And you know without a doubt that you’re on the path to utter and irrevocable ruination.”

ruin you (once more) ^

summary: Taehyung and Jungkook can’t keep their hands off you. Not even in the elevator.

Seokjin

kairos @luffles424

summary: When your financial aid falls through for your last year of school, you fear you’ll have to drop out and postpone your degree. Until Taehyung gives you a suggestion to make a lot of money, quick. His idea can’t possibly end well, can it?

appetence @luffles424

summary: appetence (n.) - an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bondIt’s time for Seokjin’s rut. Are either of you prepared for this step?

tiny lights, tiny lies @ggukcangetit

summary: you aren’t sure when exactly your best friend’s brother went from being an oddly annoying set of broad shoulders to the shoulders you frequently fell asleep against.

Yoongi

the little things @kimtaehyunq

summary: When the present isn’t exactly enough for you right now, Yoongi is here for you through it all. He makes sure you know you aren’t alone and that it’s ok to feel alone.

cyberslut @kimnjss

summary:  he has no idea who you are… up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

yoongi drabble @joonsgalore

life guard au

Hoseok

benefits @cutechim

summary: you and hoseok have taken the ‘friends’ out of friends with benefits, but exclusivity has its own perks.

Namjoon

namjoon drabble @lovetrivia

summary: You’re a hot girl on Twitch and Namjoon is an absolute simp.

Jimin

baby fever @writtenwhalien

summary: Jimin wants another baby, and much to your delight, he’s determined to give you one.

jimin drabble @/1kook

best friend au

small hands jimin drabble @lavishedinjimin

established relationship au

silk and lace @sunshyngal

summary: Min Nara is the newly dumped fiance to the Crown prince of Korea, Park Jimin. She’s not overtly upset , because at least now she can live her life without the pressure of the monarchy hanging over her head. Besides , Nara has a very dirty little secret. While she spends the day as the perfect high society girl with an impeccable pedigree , her nights are filled with lacy lingerie and webcams.  Ignored by the man she’s meant to marry, she revels in the greedy lust of strangers on the internet. It’s her way of saying ‘fuck you’ to a system that sees her as nothing but a toy, molded for the future King. Park Jimin doesn’t know the first thing about his supposed fiancee. And he has no intention of learning either. He knows just what debutante girls are like and he has no patience for the kind. Besides, his girlfriend of three years, the elegant and independent Irene is everything he would ever want in a wife . Or is she?Because in the secrecy of his office , after the day’s work is done , Park Jimin has a very scintillating vice that he likes to indulge in : the beautiful camgirl who calls herself the Temptress. Jimin can’t get enough of the girl’s lush thighs wrapped in silk, the pretty pink of her nipples in see through bralettes and the glittering temptation of the jeweled plugs she likes to stuff herself full with.Jimin thinks she embodies  everything he can never allow himself to have as a Prince : filth, sin and decadence , all wrapped up in Silk and Lace.

Taehyung

nip it in the bud @opaljm

summary: You’re not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother’s best friend you hadn’t seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.

taehyung drabble @joonsgalore

sugar daddy au

peanut @jungxk

summary: the making of peanut.

Jungkook

pretty kitty @venusiangguk

summary: you’re jk’s baby, his toy, and now his pretty little pet.

heavy metal @hisunshiine

summary: You come home from a trip to find your fuckbuddy has a… hole-y surprise.

devour @bloomsuga

summary: my sweet angel… i am going to devour you

grain of sand @jungkookiebus

summary: Blind since the age of 18 from a genetic disorder, Jungkook walked through life as if he never lost it, but on one fateful day seven years ago he literally almost runs into you. He fell in love nearly immediately. Fast forward to the present and it’s just another day in your quiet life with him by your side.

under the oak tree @mingoyeob

summary: as the eldest daughter of a duke, it’s your duty to marry at your father’s will. yet you didn’t expect to be marrying jeon jungkook, a knight of low status, especially when he departs for an expedition without another word after your first night. when he comes back three years later, this time as a renowned hero, how will you be able to face him and how will things change between you and your new husband?

jungkook drabble @1kook

dilf!jk

commercial break: thirteen ^

summary: Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.

sh. @wwilloww

summary: How could you say no to a month away in the mountains with your friends after six months of grueling quarantine?

jungkook drabble @lavishedinjimin

daddy!jk

OT7/Multiple Members

the end @jimlingss

summary: It’s been a habit of yours to vent in the form of love letters. There’s six in total. They’re kept secret, hidden in your closet. But on your 30th birthday, what you least expect is for each letter to become reality. All done by the whacky ghost of Christmas future trying to grant your birthday wish.

[greenninjagal-blog]

The Rumor Mill Game (pt4)

I swear I didn’t forget about this au. This chapter is just....long.

Welcome back to this mess of an au :) If you need a refresher, you can find Part Three [here!] Or if you’re new check out the first part [here!]

Summary: Logan is...dealing with the fallout of him and his coworker, Remus, having created a rumor about them being married and now apparently having a kid except not because Logan screamed at the top of his lungs that Virgil wasn’t his kid. His boss has a different definition for what “dealing” actually means. 

Words: 8292 (Holy shit remember when this au was 2k words)

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

When Logan had seen his boss after he made Virgil cry, he hadn’t expected it to end up like this.

Granted when he hadn’t exactly been expecting anything. He hadn’t been looking ahead, hadn’t been making plans, hadn’t been thinking at all. Which was most likely how he ended up outside the bar in the first place. 

Logan could, of course, count the number of times he had been drunk on one hand. College had been a time for experimenting, and of course for his twenty-first birthday his friends at the time had been insistent that he needed to imbibe an unholy amount of alcohol in one night. They had turned it into an experiment, where Logan documented exactly what he was feeling after each drink and he still had the notes in his desk at home, despite the fact that his handwriting had become illegible after the fifth drink and someone had spilled an orange soda based tonic on the third page. The notes themselves were worthless, but they served as a memoir to people who he no longer associated with and a younger version of himself who had still been learning.

And Logan did have a soft spot for that imbecile: Twenty-one-year-old Logan Ackroyd who still believed in the goodness of people and who wanted to change the world and who could fall in lov--

Logan pitied him-- that kid he used to be-- which he was certain that his younger self would be indignant about. Logan always did hate when people pitied him. Those emotions had rarely ever been genuine, rarely ever been helpful, rarely been productive. What was he to do about people feeling bad for him? About others being disappointed? About others making assumptions about him and how he felt?

He didn’t need pity, and he didn’t want it. Not when he got rejected to his first three colleges, not when flunked that English class and had to pay to retake it the next year, not when he had bought that ring and gotten down on one knee and made a whole carefully edited speech and--

And he’s not nearly drunk enough to deal with these types of thoughts. Or any thoughts for that matter. Wouldn’t it just be great to stop thinking? 

Then he wouldn’t have to remember the looks on his coworkers faces when he storming into the office less than fifteen minutes after initially leaving for lunch and demanded that Beatrice turn in her overdue spreadsheets in twenty minutes or he’d have her fired before slamming his office door hard enough to crack that frosted glass, or the look on Remus- fucking- Prince’s face when he tried to act like everything that had happened was not his fault and that Logan had taken the game to far by himself without any sort of prompting from Remus, or the look on Virgil’s face when Logan lost his self control.

Like an idiot. Like an asshole. Like someone who doesn’t think before he acts.

Like someone who should be alone for the rest of his life, because he can’t seem to get a hold of those useless emotions of his. 

And Logan wanted so very badly to blame Remus Prince for this whole endeavor, the whole production, the whole catastrophe. He wanted to say that without Remus he never would have gotten that angry, wouldn’t have had that conversation, wouldn’t have even gotten Thai today. 

Logan wanted to say that, but really it's his own fault. If he had just dismissed Remus’s rumor in the beginning, if he had just told Jen and Quin that his personal business was his own, if he had just ignored the urge to get coffee and finished the spreadsheets without getting up that last night.

His fourth finger itched around the base, the area where that little silver ring had been sitting for less than a day. It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, because Logan had never worn a ring before and now suddenly the absence of it caused his skin to crawl in a most unpleasant, unproductive way. 

Distantly Logan realized that by gifting Remus such a wonderful present, he had also thrown away four hundred dollars. And perhaps ironically Logan noted that he feels annoyed about it-- four hundred dollars had been sitting in a pocket of a dress jacket in the corner of his office for over nine months and he had tossed it aside in a fit of impulsive anger.

Logan had not been hurting for money recently, with how decently he was paid, and the amount of overtime he worked, and how little time he had taken off since that disastrous night.

But perhaps he might have been able to return it to the jewelers and weathered the terrible, awful pitying looks they would give him when he requested about their refund policy or a location where he might be able to sell it himself. It was a ring that was worth four hundred dollars and he had given it to Remus, and isn’t it funny that that’s farther than he got with the one for whom the ring had been originally intended?

And as Logan downed his next rum and coke of the night, he hoped that Remus found a better use for it. Newton knows it hadn't done any good for Logan. 

(Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the way that he had screeched “He’s not and never will be our son!” Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the way that Remus had hummed mischievously “I think I enjoy being fake-married to you, Logan." Its stupid, Logan knew, to blame a ring for the the way his last partner had said “We should see other people”. Its stupid, stupid, stupid--)

“Hmmm,” A voice behind him said, “I thought I would find you here!”

Logan didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he heard the voice and felt every atom in his body figuratively threaten to combust. He wasn’t drunk enough to be thinking about him, and he most certainly wasn’t drunk enough to turn and look at the incessantly, perky man that had decided to sit down next to him.

Logan waved at the bartender and ordered another rum and coke and watched his freshly emptied glass disappear like the handful of others he didn’t bother to keep count of.

“And I’ll have two waters, please!” Patton Hart added with one of his peppy, happy, insufferable laughs, before turning to face Logan. “Hiya, Lo! It's been so long since we’ve seen each other!”

“Not long enough,” Logan disagreed, with a rueful smile that should very clearly, very precisely detail how much he does not want company at the current moment. “Don’t you have things to be doing tonight, Mr. Hart?”

Patton hummed, pressing his lips together as he thought-- a monumental task for someone like him, surely. Logan was partially convinced that if he removed his glasses he might be able to see the squirrels beginning to run on that rusted wheel in the other man’s brain. If Logan was of a less logical mind he might even be brazen enough to call this the first time Patton had used his brain all week.

“Well,” Patton said, carefully settling himself on the stool next to Logan. “I was graciously informed by my son that he would be enjoying the perks of being a teenager with no bedtime tonight and along with where exactly I could shove my homemade lasagna.” He laughed lightly, “Kids, these days! He really does keep me on my toes!” 

Logan did his best not to roll his eyes. “I do not know the whereabouts of your son, Mr. Hart.”

“Patton,” He said easily, “And I’m not here for my son. I’m here for you, Logan.”

“If this is about the glass in my door, you are very capable of taking that out of my paycheck.” Logan told him.

The bartender placed Logan’s new rum and coke in front of him and he reached for it almost immediately, only stopping when Patton’s hand landed on his forearm.

“Mr. Hart--”

“Patton,” Patton corrected with that smile that Logan suspected was the worst thing in the world. Worse than Virgil’s blank expression when he told them to get out, worse than Remus’s smug one when he suggested that Logan did indeed enjoy the ability to manipulate his coworkers, worse than Beatrice faulty excel sheets, than broken glass of his door, than a ring he never wanted to see again and yet he still felt like it was missing from his finger.

“Mr. Hart,” Logan said again, “I am going to get horrifically drunk tonight, and I will be calling out sick tomorrow, regardless of what you say. So my advice to you is, say anything of importance now, before I am too incoherent to register and respond accordingly.”

“That doesn’t sound too smart there, kiddo!” Patton said, like he was any older than Logan was.

“I do not feel like being smart right now,” Logan said snippily. Because being smart involved thinking, and Logan had done quite enough thinking for the day. He was tired of thinking, tired of memories, tired of the lump in his chest that had formed during his lunch break and hadn’t dissolved in the eight hours since. He was tired.

“Would you like me to be smart for you?” Patton asked.

Ah.

Yes, Logan remembered suddenly with just a few words why he hated Patton Hart so much. Why he hated those too-wide brown eyes, those stupid freckles, that soft smile. Why he hated the way that Patton had tracked him down despite the fact that he had turned off his phone, the way that Patton had ordered two waters, the way that he hadn’t taken off his jacket. The way that he had taken out his keys and put them on the bar counter between them and Logan could pick out his own house key from the jumbled mess of bits and bobs.

“I heard something pretty interesting today,” Patton said, when Logan didn’t reply because he was too busy remembering why he hated Patton so much.

“Please don’t pretend like you didn’t know about my so-called affair before I did.” Logan snapped. “Honestly, Patton!” Logan dropped his arm from the glass and instead pressed his knuckles to his forehead. “Playing dumb about your own company is my least favroite thing about you.”

“I thought you hated my laugh the most.” Patton looked at him, letting the smile slip into something more serious.

“I hate everything about you.” 

“Pay for the drinks, Lo.” Patton told him, “And I’ll take you home. We can have some of my lasagna and watch a space documentary, like we’re twenty years old again.” 

Logan hated Patton and hated the way his chest ached at the offer. His knuckles bore into the side of his head, jabbing the frame of his own glasses into this temple. He hated the way that Patton was looking at him, soft and sweet and naive.

He hated the way his fingers itched to take Patton’s hand and go home.

“And after all that,” Patton continued so lightly, “You can tell me all about how Remus Prince got under your skin.”

 Logan’s hand slammed on the counter, so suddenly he surprised himself. Patton, however, didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink, didn’t react other than to hold that smile. 

“I am not drunk enough to be talking about Remus Prince,” Logan spat. “Especially not to you, Patton.”

Patton was quiet and at first, Logan really had thought that he had won something-- he thought that perhaps Patton would grant him mercy and let him drown his sorrows alone and miserable in a bar until he forgot his own name. But Patton was too good of a friend and Logan really should hate him less for that.

“You know,” Patton said with a cold type of humor that doused Logan with awareness. Bad awareness. The type of awareness that sunk it’s metaphorical claws into Logan’s chest and pierced straight through his heart before Patton finished what he was saying. “I think….yeah that does sound familiar. Do you remember the last time you said you weren’t drunk enough to tell me something?”

Logan did.

Logan couldn’t forget if he tried. 

And he had tried so very hard for so very long-- except that Remus Prince had waltzed into Logan’s life, had called him a Robot, had smirked at him and run their coworkers around like cattle with pretty little words. Except that Remus Prince had gotten bored and decided that the only logical next course of action was to mess with Logan’s personal life. 

Except that Remus Prince had played along with the rumor game, and smiled at him, and kissed him, and---

And Logan had started thinking---

And Logan’s mouth had started moving--

And Virgil face had--

Logan reached for the glass in front of him, reaching for the cool ice and the spritzy carbonation and the burn of the rum.  

Patton watched him, blinking in the long, slow, dumb way of his that had fooled just about every person that he had come in contact with. With the goofy smile and the habit of deliberately misunderstanding key phrases and making puns and jokes when things were tense, it was hard to see him as anything other than a rich son who became CEO via thinly veiled nepotism. 

Logan knocked back the drink, blinking back the burn behind his eyes that were from the alcohol and definitely not from the lump in his throat that had started dissolving.

He didn’t want to close his eyes, because he knew what he would see when he did: a nice suit, a fancy dinner, a walk to the bridge dotted with fairy lights of all things. He’d see that stupid ring, that stupid face, that stupid end of the night that everyone had told him would be nice, and perfect, and everything he would ever want! 

And he didn’t want to think about how it had not been nice or perfect or anything either of them had ever wanted!

He didn’t want to think about how years ago he had come to a bar just like this, and tried to get so drunk he could pretend that it hadn’t happened, and Patton had shown up then and offered him a job and--

“He wants to go by Janus now,” Patton said, picking up one of the waters and taking a sip.

Logan squinted at him and tried not to be happy about the distraction from his own thoughts, “Who?”

“My son,” Patton said, like it was obvious he had switched back to a neutral topic. “He told me earlier during our phone call he wants to go by Janus, now. He said he’s hated the name Dante for forever. Can you believe it, Lo?”

Logan couldn’t actually. Because he had known Patton since they themselves were teenagers, since before Patton had brought up how empty being a CEO was without anyone to come home too, since Patton had first invited him to Sunday brunch and introduced him to the child he called “son”. Logan had babysat Dante when Patton had business trips and Dante had always been proud of himself, of his better-than-the-status-quo lifestyle, of his name that held power and prestige and weight.

Dante had been practicing saying his name in the mirror since before his voice cracked. Dante Hart, future CEO. Dante Hart, son of Patton Hart. Dante Hart. 

“He’s a teenager,” Logan said, “He’s rebelling.”

“Maybe so!” Patton laughed, and it dwindled down to something that was easier felt in the air than definable in terms Logan was familiar with, “Gosh, I love him so much, Lo. My baby! He’s growing up so fast now! The other day he told me he had a boyfriend. He’s at that stage where he doesn’t want me to help him anymore!”

And despite the buffoon having not had a single drop of alcohol, Patton was tearing up. Logan gritted his teeth at the implications of a weepy, teary, so-full-of-emotions Patton. He had spent enough time in college trying to console him as he figured out the whole “Why does it always have to be about sex? Why can’t I just love hugging someone, Lo? Why does everyone make me feel so broken?” Logan hadn’t been any good back then, and he definitely hadn’t gotten better with time. 

After that disaster with the last guy, Logan had decided that feeling things, frivolous things, emotion-like things, were not something he was into anymore.

Logan learned from his mistakes, after all.

Even the mistakes that started with “R” and ended in a $400 ring being thrown away.

“Is that why you’re here, Mr. Hart?” Logan asked, in that way of his that told even Patton with his squirrel run brain that it wasn’t actually a question at all. “You can’t baby your son anymore so you’ve moved on to the next best thing?”

Patton stuck his tongue in his cheek and set his water back down. “Patton.” He stressed. “And I’m not here to baby you, Logan. I’m here to be your friend.”

He said “friend” like it was a word in the dictionary Logan didn’t know. It was infuriating: the insinuation that Logan had never cracked open a dictionary before, that he was so unknowledgeable about the concept of a friend that Patton was about to show him the online Oxford dictionary definition, like someone who played dumb all day and peppered his windows with sticky notes in the shape of a game of Frogger knew more about something than Logan who had clawed his way up from nothing and was constantly needing to prove how he earned his position.

Patton nudged the second water in Logan’s direction.

Logan stared at it, at the condensation on the glass, at the ice cubes, at the refraction of the low lights from the bar counter. He stared at it like it was a portal back through time that would allow him to slam some sense into poor, pitiful twenty-one-years-old Logan before he let himself fall in Love.

Before he bought a ring or stopped taking days off unless Patton tromped down to his office himself. Before Remus Prince borrowed his cup and before Logan got it in his head that he was serving revenge rather than idiocracy. Before he let himself think too little and say too much and hurt a kid that had never deserved to be upset before in his life.

“If my son wants to be called Janus, I’ll call him that,” Patton says softly. “Because even if it doesn’t make sense to me, it means something to him. And even if my friend is struggling with emotions that don’t make sense to me, I’m still gonna try to help him, Lo.”

Patton ducked his head just a little, just enough that he managed to catch Logan’s strategically averted gaze and make something out of it: a swell of guilt, a sense of hope, a pinch of safety and unadulterated kindness.

His throat was dry, but it was the type of dry that couldn’t be fixed with a glass of water.

“I made a kid cry,” Logan said, because self loathing is a coat he had thought he’d outgrown but he can still fit his arms in the sleeves.

Patton nodded. “Yeah, I heard about that.” He sipped his water. “I think we all have at one point or another.”

“See, the distinct difference that you are missing here, Patton, is that you are a father.” Logan snapped, “And your son will cry at the drop of a hat if he thinks he can get something out of it. And you would never harm a child! Not for any reason in the entire world!”

“And you would?”

“I did.” Logan felt himself sink into the chair, sink like an anchor in the ocean, sink like the floor below him had turned into a blackhole. “I did, I did it. What type of person does that make me?”

“I hate to break it to you, Lo,” Patton said, as kindly as he could, which Logan knew was truly, sickenly nice. He wanted to choke on the sentiment but he found that he couldn’t quite make his chest hurt the way he wanted it too when it came to Patton’s pity.

 “But that just means you’re a normal person.” Patton smiled dumbly, tilting his head and shrugging. “Everyone says things they don’t mean sometimes.”

“You don’t.”

“I do,” Patton countered gently, “Like when I hired Beatrice before realizing that she had lied about knowing how to use Excel.”

“Fuck, Beatrice,” Logan agreed, because if he closed his eyes too hard he thought he might still see grid patterns as much as he might see Virgil’s hurt expression and he hated it so much. So much. 

“I also told-- Janus once that I would get him anything he wanted for his birthday, and he asked for a snake.” Patton shuddered, almost comically, “And you saw how that turned out.”

“I’ve always been impressed with his ability to sneak things into the school buildings,” Logan sighed. “I doubt anyone has ever forgotten that Show-and-Tell.”

Patton chuckled quietly. It was almost lost in the buzz of the other patrons in the bar. He drew a smiley face in the condensation on his glass and Logan reached over to wipe it away, like he had done a hundred seventeen times since college.

“So….Lasagna?” Patton offered. “We can make some garlic bread too.”

“I regret ever meeting you,” Logan said, even as he picked up the keys on the counter between them. He wished that Patton didn’t look so self satisfied, so pleased, so smug when the words tumbled from his lips, but Patton had never been one to pertain to the wishes and whims of Logan like that.

Settling his tab was quick; a pile of bills from his wallet that he didn’t actually check, but decided the bartender deserved anyway and then Patton linked their elbows together so that Logan couldn’t walk off the way that he used to when he would agree with Patton just to get him to shut up. Logan snagged Patton’s glasses from his head and fogged them up with his breath, before taking on the tedious task of cleaning the fingerprints off the lens meticulously while walking in a wobbling straight line. 

Patton laughed like silver bells and it alone brightened the entire street with a type of magic that Logan had long since given up on trying to scientifically explain. The poet in him that Logan had buried under Calculus classes and Statistics courses and a Business degree and only let out when the alcohol out weighed the blood in his system, whispered that it was because it was Patton and his aloofness, and his kindness, and his generosity that never made any sense, and wasn’t that reason enough for the universe to lighten up?

It was drizzling outside, scattered raindrops and dark heavy clouds that whispered of a thunderstorm later. Patton skipped, Logan rolled his eyes and let himself be dragged towards the familiar pale blue punch buggy. It was the same exact car from their college time together, if one ignored the frankenstein replacements of just about every single component in it. Patton clung to the car the same way he had clung to the delusion of Logan being a good friend; sticking close through every breakdown, excusing every letdown, and spending far too much money on it when economically it would have been more beneficial to just let them go.

A wave of self loathing wrapped over Logan again when he pulled on the car door. Patton was genuinely a good person, a good friend. He was stupid at times and he made decisions that made Logan was to strangle him, but he cared so much more than other people. He offered fourth and fifth chances when Logan would have stone-walled his offender at one. 

Not to mention, he had come out in the rain to find Logan specifically, probably traversing through three other bars to find the one that Logan had chosen to be his misery echo chamber.

By some sort of lucky happenstance, Logan had originally walked far enough to hail a taxi  to get to this bar, leaving his car in the safety of the parking garage where Patton’s company paid a nice sum for security. Logan had tried to argue about that expense with him back in the day, but Patton had pulled out a picture of his toothy grinning son-- Janus-- and said “Lo!! What if my son comes to visit when he learns to drive?! I don’t want to worry about him getting attacked in the parking garage!” 

Logan had brutally pointed out that his son would never visit him during work, and so far he had been correct in that assessment, but that didn’t stop him from feeling the slightest bit guilty about his bluntness even so much time later.

Patton had always looked for the best in people, had more strength than most of humanity, had more hope in happy endings that Logan had trust in fact and numbers.

“Is your son okay with me calling him Janus? I’m unsure of etiquette on this. Should I wait until he tells me his preference or should I just make the switch and not bring it up to him?” Logan asked with a sigh as Patton pulled out of the parking spot and set them towards Patton’s house on the other side of town. Unobstructed and following the driving laws, it would only take them about fifteen minutes, and yet Logan wondered about the possibility of Patton having Advil in the car.

The back of his head was already aching from the days events: banging his head on the keyboard all morning leading up to his disastrous lunch date, Remus, Virgil, squinting at spreadsheets until he couldn’t make out the numbers anymore, and the of course stumbling his way to the bar and dealing with Patton.

Patton giggled. “Oh yeah! I asked him earlier if it was okay to tell you. He said he wanted you to call him Janus now. He also said to tell you, you can take a hike.”

Knowing Janus, it was probably something more volatile than “taking a hike”. Most likely it had been something that might have required him to put a full five dollars in the swear jar that they kept on the counter next to the cookie jar. Not that it would matter much. Logan had stayed over at their house dozens of times and every single time he had come across Janus taking that money back out of that swear jar.

As far as Logan was aware, the swear jar had never actually been full. Patton must have noticed at some point-- probably that very first time Janus had taken the money back out-- but he was irritating insistent that he play dumb about it. Thus, Janus continued to swear in excess, Patton continued to make him put money in a swear jar for no real reason, and Logan continued to never understand either of them.

The radio in Patton’s car had been broken fifteen times since Patton had gotten it, but Logan assumed from the silence of the drive that it was now sixteen. He rested his elbow on the window and watched the drizzle turn into a steady rain and the windshield wipers flutter across their vision to occasionally bring them clarity.

The night life was somewhat dreary. The driving pace was slow, and they hit every single stop light in the city because that was just Logan’s luck. There were a few people running around in the rain: a family with a small child who was jumping in every slowly forming puddle on the sidewalk, a couple sharing an umbrella walking so close together they appeared as if to be one misshapen form, a group of friends chatting outside a 24 hour dinner in raincoats, and a few smokers huddled under an alcove with embers burning just enough for Logan to make out their forms through the downpour. 

Logan realized almost immediately that the pit in his stomach was much more bearable if he instead focused on the raindrops on the window that are much easier to look at, much less representing something that Logan had always expected he might one day have, much less accusatory in wondering what is wrong with him that he can’t act like a normal human being, this isn’t working, who wants to marry a robot like you--

That was the reason why he wasn’t expecting the sudden jerk of the car coming to a hard stop at a yellow light that they absolutely could have made. 

“PATTON!” Logan yelled.

The car behind them blared it’s horn and Logan rubbed his neck and reset his glasses from the sudden movement, ready to question what exactly Patton thought he was doing, because truly of all the things Logan was not in the mood for, this was one of them. 

Except that before Logan could get any words out, Patton had put the car in park and whipped off his seatbelt to kick open his door. A wave of rain came pouring into the car as the man threw himself from the driver's seat like there was something wrong with the car, and for a second Logan entertained the absurd idea that they were going to blow up.

Which truly, would have just been a fitting end to his horrific day.

“Patton!” Logan hissed, grabbing after the other’s coat to pull him back inside before the rain soaked into the seats. “Get back in th--”

The other man ignored him, frantically waving to someone in the rain. “REMUS!! MR. PRINCE!! OVER HERE!!”

If Logan knew slightly less about human biology he might have been inclined to say that his heart jumped straight to his throat and climbed its way up his esophagus to strangle him. He wouldn’t have recognized the figure on the street corner on his own: Remus Prince was wearing a black leather jacket and jeans with holes in the knees. He was soaked to the bone, without an umbrella, and his usual bouncy brown curls were matted to his head, as if he had been walking out in the rain for much longer than the rain had been sweeping through the city.

He was standing with the smokers under their minimal tarp, although he, himself, was without a cigarette at all. When he turned at the call of his name, there was only confusion and exhaustion in his face. None of the smugness, or the ego, or the energy that he usually had.

Logan didn’t know why that bothered him. He was hurting from earlier; that was good. 

After all, it was Remus’s ridiculous game that he had dragged everyone else into. 

((Logan’s finger itched and he dug his nails into his skin so deeply he was afraid to glance down in case there was blood pouring off hands.))

Remus ventured out to meet them, dodging across the lanes of traffic without a care in the world, or perhaps with a death wish. Remus didn’t seem particularly like he would mind getting run over by the way that he opened the back door, climbed in, and shook the excess water out in the interior of the car like some type of undomesticated dog. 

“Is this a kidnapping?” He asked, rain dripping down his face. “A murder? Do I get to know your name before you dismember me, cutie?”

Patton laughed joyfully, even as Logan felt his face screw up at the sound of Remus calling their boss “cutie”. It was beyond unprofessional, even if Remus was apparently unaware that his career hinged entirely on not insulting Patton. It took a lot to make Patton angry enough to fire someone-- his patience was the best and worst thing about him, as Logan had been reminded every time they interacted-- but once Remus crossed that line, not even a cockroach like him would be able to drag himself out of the metaphorical wasteland Patton would make out of his life.

Cutie, honestly. Who calls anyone they’ve just met cutie. Logan could understand Remus having called him Lovebug and Lolo, but cutie? 

For Patton?

Patton climbed back into the car, snapping on his seatbelt and managed to get out of park at the very same moment as the light turned green. He wiped his sleeve along his glasses, and brightly said, “I’m Patton! And you already know Logie here!”

“Logie?” Remus repeated, sitting back against the seat taking in Logan for the first time. “Oh shi--”

“Do not call me that,” Logan said. “Patton, you can drop me off at the next corner. I will walk home.”

“Don’t be silly!” Patton said, in the same tone that he had used during their college days to coax Logan into driving him to the nearest grocery store after he had successfully managed to pull two all nighters in a row. Logan hated that tone, and Patton knew that well.

“If you do not stop the car, I will throw myself from it while it is still moving.”

“I can get out, actually!” Remus said far too loud for the small car. Logan resisted the urge to turn around and scowl at him. Surely, his pea-sized brain had managed to figure out that he was the point of contention here and that his best move would be to shut up, so why had he decided to open his mouth? “I need to get home anyway. Big day tomorrow and everything.”

“Oh?” Patton said delightedly because Logan would not ever play into subject changes willingly. “What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m getting fired,” Remus said with a nonchalant shrug.

Patton blinked for a moment-- his squirrel-run brain jamming at the sudden twist of the words because whatever he was expecting from his visitor it was not that. Logan resisted the urge to reach over and give him a shake at the shoulders: of course he wouldn’t be able to expect anything with Remus Prince. The man was insufferable and illogical and he wrought chaos for fun. 

With everything that had happened, did Patton really think that there was an exaggeration in there?

Remus wanted attention. And he said whatever he needed to in order to get it: a fake affair, a fake divorce, a fake child-- Of course he would say he was getting fired tomorrow if it got Patton to have to use all of his meager brain cells to figure out how serious he was.

“Is that something to celebrate, Mr. Prince?” Logan cut in coldly. “Getting fired?”

“And here I thought that you would be happy, Ackroyd,” Remus said. “Unless you think you’re going to miss me.”

“If only I would be so lucky,” Logan said, digging his phone from his pocket, and turning it back on. The screen was blindingly bright and Logan’s eyes ached just glancing at it in the corner of his vision. “Patton, pull over. I am not doing this tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever again.”

“I’m not going to let you walk home after however many rum and cokes you had, Logan.”

“Patton,” Logan snarled. “If you continue to treat me like you treat your son, I will tender my resignation tonight. Pull over now.”

Patton opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was swallowed up in Remus’s empty voice speaking. 

“You went drinking?”

“Do not talk to me, Mr. Prince.”

“You’re not even yelling.”

Logan wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, which may have irritated him more than the fact that he was so insistent about continuing to talk when Logan was liable to push the car to crash and kill all three of them. Remus was already staring at him, his expression dark and serious in the passing car lights and somehow Logan thought that he looked vulnerable. 

Logan gritted his teeth as his headache pulsed behind his eyes. 

“Shut up,” he said. “And put on your seat belt.”

“Or what? You’ll divorce me?” Remus pushed forward between the seats until he was just a few inches from Logan’s own face, grinning with all his teeth. It was at once the same smile that Logan had catalogued through every week of working with him and also something completely foreign.

Remus had pulled him into a kiss earlier that morning, and Logan remembered the taste of pickles on his lips just as well as the smirk he kept as Logan walked away. But this expression is somehow inverted, somehow shifted, somehow a weapon more than a challenge.

“Boys,” Patton said. “Please don’t fight in my car!”

“If you did not want us to fight, why did you invite him in this car?” Logan asked. “You, of all people, know my opinions on--”

“Logan, you’re drunk.”

“What does that have to do with this?!” Logan bit out. He glared at his phone: there were three missed calls from Patton and a handful of text messages from him that Logan couldn’t actually read in the combination of the bright phone light and darkness around them. His eyes were blurry even with his glasses on and the frustration of not being able to read only heightened as he made out the notification for his email which meant that Beatrice had managed to finish her work (allowing Logan to be able to go fix it) or that news of him yelling at a child made it around the office and now he was going to harassed by them as well.

All because of Remus Prince’s inability to shut up. 

 Patton threw a hand out and grabbed Logan’s phone from his hand and carelessly tossed it over both their shoulders to Remus.

“Patton!” Logan hissed, rubbing the irritated tears from his eyes. “Remus, give it back!”

Remus, however, was just staring at the phone in his lap like it was some type of bomb. Logan’s phone locked itself and the screen went dark, and still Remus sat inhumanely still in the seat, staring at it, with a type of blank expression that Logan oftentimes related to their coworkers when Logan asked them to perform any sort of math without a calculator.

“Remus,” Logan said again.

Remus jerked at the sound of his voice, snapping out of whatever fit the phone had put him in almost meekly-- if Logan could describe anything Remus did as meekly without it being a blatant falsehood. “Meekly” itself had never seemed to be a word in Remus’s vocabulary which was another irritating fact about him that made Logan break out in figurative hives.

Logan knew how Remus was.

He knew Remus.

It didn’t matter that he had never talked to Remus before today, that his thinly veiled contempt for his coworkers kept him from being willing to stand in their presence more than he was being paid to, that this fake affair was the first stupid relationship of any kind he had gotten outside of Patton and his son since his last boyfriend had dumped him on the night he was going to propose and hadn’t he thought he’d known him too? Isn’t that what led to all this? 

It didn’t matter. 

Logan was smarter, now. Logan was better now. Logan was--

“I don’t…” Remus said, trailing off as he stared at the messages popping up on Logan’s phone and Logan wondered why it felt like his lungs had shrunk right in his chest. “I don’t think you should be reading these right now.”

“He definitely should not!” Patton said, with a very convincing amount of forced happiness. “Hold that for him will you, Remus? Oh and why do you think you’re going to get fired tomorrow?”

Remus looked up at Logan and then at Patton and then back at Logan, like Logan was supposed to know what that meant in addition to every other stupid look he’d given Logan all evening. Logan shoved his glasses up to his hairline and rubbed his aching eyes, and yet somehow that still didn’t fix the pounding in his head or the exhaustion hollowing out his bones. It also didn’t make Remus disappear from the backseat, which was equally annoying, even though Logan hadn’t truly thought he was a shared apparition for him and Patton.

“You didn’t mention anything about today to your… what are you a fuck buddy?” Remus said.

And Patton laughed. 

Logan grabbed the door handle and yanked on it, but of course the ridiculous safety locks were engaged, and Logan had spent far too many sober years getting locked in this car to try to puzzle out the broken locking system in order to drunkenly throw himself out of the car. He was not in the habit of wishing for miracles, or even believing in deities, but he imagined that some powerful entity was finding ruining Logan’s life to be semi enjoyable.

“See this is why I can’t fire him!” Patton said through giggles and Logan thought maybe he was being addressed for this. Patton met Remus’s gaze through the rearview mirror and shook the last bit of water from his damp hair. “You make everything so entertaining!”

“What?”

Logan grit his teeth and yanked on the door handle again. “Remus, meet Mr. Hart, the CEO and your boss. Also put on your seatbelt.”

Remus blinked at them both, leaning between the seats and definitely not putting on his seatbelt. Logan counted backward from ten, reminding himself that one of the hiring requirements for Patton’s company has always been must be the stupid beyond belief. He’d known for a while that his coworkers were idiots on a good day, hazards to his health on bad ones, and yet somehow in the whirlwind of the day he’s had, Logan had forgotten that Remus counted as a coworker still.

“I’m not… getting fired?” Remus said, acting much like a computer after being turned on. “Why do you know my name then?”

Patton shrugged, flicking on his blinker to change lanes before the next light. “You have interesting ideas for your advertising strategy! Of course I would know your name! I’m sorry about vetoing that last one. I know Logan liked it, but I wanted to stick to the family-as-a-whole angle.”

“Patton,” Logan warned with an edge.

“Logan liked…?” Remus echoed, before turning towards Logan with a look of bewilderment that annoyed Logan far more than it had any right to. “You actually look at my shit?”

“Put on your seatbelt, Remus,” he said, because wasn’t it obvious that Logan looked at his things? Before the whole Robot incident Logan hadn’t had a problem with Remus at all: he was effective and efficient and the rumors were irritating but below him to indulge in. Before Remus had dragged him figuratively kicking and screaming into this mess, Logan approved the budgets that came with the projects Remus created.

He still did that, just with more anger than before. Petty feelings for Remus himself aside, his work was objectively good. 

Logan knew that about him.

“So!” Patton said over both of them, with his signature grin that Logan suspected he would still be wearing even if Logan decided to kill him right now. It must be the by-product of being controlled by rodents running on a wheel. “How was your volunteer work Remus?”

Remus froze in the back seat, going unnaturally still again. “Are you some kind of stalker-- uh sir?”

“Will you knock that off?” Logan snapped, which only made Remus’s shoulders jump straight to his ears. “And put on your seatbelt.”

“Just curious!” Patton said, ignoring Logan entirely. “Darlene is a good friend of mine! I make sure to send monthly donations to the organization since I don’t have a lot of free time to jump over and help.”

Remus didn’t say anything to that. He swallowed audibly and leaned back against the seat, dragging fingers through his wet hair and then tucked his arms in his own armpits. Logan pressed a palm to his forehead watching the street lights bend from behind his eyelids because that was easier than staring at Remus act like Patton was trying to pull his teeth out.

“You actually do volunteer work?” Logan said. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“Ha,” Remus said without any inflection. Logan thought that was the quietest that he had ever been. Where was that stupid ass smirk? Where was the stubbornness that pushed back against everything? Where was that loud voice and that confidence?

“Put on your seatbelt,” Logan said again.

“Why do you care if I wear the belt or not?”

“Remus put on your seatbelt or, so help me Newton, I will climb back there and put it on for you, myself!”

The air simmered from the acid in his tone, making the silence figurative chafe against his ribs. Remus stared at him, blinking slowly, with the street lights casting roving shadows on his face. His dark eyes were just so-- so--

Logan dug his nails into his palm. Why was it Remus Prince could make him feel like this? What gave him the right?

“It’s okay!” Patton said, setting the car to park. “We’re here anyway!”

Logan reached up and pulled his glasses back onto his face properly, but it still took him a moment to realize that they were near a bunch of townhouses, double parked outside one that Logan had considered moving into all those years ago when he had first been looking for an apartment for after college.

Remus too, apparently needed a moment to recognize the area. “We… are at my apartment? Holy shit, you are a stalker.”

Patton giggled, flashing Remus with his blinding smile and reached back to pick up Logan’s phone from his hands. “Thank you so much, kiddo! We’ll wait until you get inside all safe and sound, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“You will not,” Logan said. “Tomorrow you have a business deal two hours away to complete and if you miss it--”

Patton stretched back in his seat and let out a hugely exaggerated yawn. “But they’re so boring! Maybe I should bring Janus with me. He always makes my business deals entertaining. I love when he sets his snake on people. He looks so happy and he laughs and--”

Logan squeezed his eyes closed and recited the first twenty digits of pi in his head to keep from grabbing Patton’s squirrel run brain and slamming it into the steering wheel.

“Homicide is wrong,” Logan said.

“I’ll help you vouch for insanity,” Remus said. “I mean, tied together through a murder, and possibly hiding a body is much more juicy than a fake marriage that’s falling apart. We’d be the talk of the office.”

“They would not find any body that I hid,” Logan said. “Nobody would.”

Remus opened his mouth to say something more, but whatever it is he decided against it. Instead he slid over the seats and kicked open the door right behind Logan and stepped out into the night air.

“Thanks for the ride, Mr. Hart, sir,” he said, strangely formal, then squinted and added, “Daddy?” 

“I’m not firing you, Remus,” Patton said. “No matter what you call me!”

Logan ran his tongue over his teeth counting each and every one. Remus looked at him but ultimately finally adhered to that whole shutting up thing. He closed the door to Patton’s blue punch buggy and started towards the door to the apartments.

“Oh,” Remus said, and turned back at the last second. He knocked his knuckles on Logan’s window a few inches from where Logan’s gaze fixed itself on a light. Patton apparently knew more about what to do than Logan because he pressed the window lowering button and Remus reached his entire arm into the window to drop a small object right into Logan’s lap.

Logan caught it mainly due to reaction rather than skill and his skin tingled at the familiar item. Even in the dark, Logan’s fingers roll over the shape of the ring that had always reminded him of the worst day of his life. It was still warm from being in Remus’s pocket.

“I think that should stay with you,” Remus said, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. “You know… for the next boytoy you take to your sex dungeon or whatever nerds like you do on weekends.”

And then he turned around and fled towards the apartment building. Patton turned off the hazard lights and slipped back into traffic and Logan wondered if he would be polite enough to not comment if Logan started crying right then and there.

His throat felt swollen, his tongue too big for his mouth, and the headache thrummmmmmed painfully. 

Logan knew Remus Prince.

“You know that Remus Prince isn’t gonna be like him,” Patton said to fill the silence.

“Remus Prince isn’t like anyone.” Logan didn’t whine. To whine would be unbecoming. And childish. And embarrassing.

So Logan didn’t whine and Patton mercifully didn't call him out on his not-whining.

And neither of them mention the choked tone that Logan had for the rest of the night.

When Logan had seen his boss after he made Virgil cry, he hadn’t expected it to end up with him clutching that ring like a lifeline, but as he ran his fingers around the rim, he wondered if it had fit on Remus’s finger at all.

(Part Five)

[gryffindordaughterofathena]

Hi fellow Gryffindor! Hope you're read for:

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ahh my favorite time of the week again. Also on a side note these questions are brilliant.

I am sorry for being late, my school thinks it's okay to torture seventeen year olds, smh

(Ignore if there are any typos, I am sleep deprived)

Previous Interviews

The setting for these answers is: Two days before they leave for Miami. Diana already knows about Naveen and as an extra context, they now spend time together at his apartment or at Derry Roasters to discuss Naveen's case and both of them (grudgingly in Ethan's case) call each other ahem...."friends"

-----------------

[Two people make their way towards the busy little coffee shop down the street from the hospital, the man furtively looking over his shoulder, as if scared of being spotted, the woman, sensing her companion's distress, puts a tentative hand on his arm, which visibly seems to calm him somewhat. He sends a grateful smile her way.]

ETHAN : We are both busy doctors rookie, why are we supposed to do this—interview?

DIANA : It won't take long, plus we are already waiting for the test results for Doct- umm our patient.

ETHAN : Well if it will stop you from talking my ear off.

DIANA : (Says nothing just smiles)

(FOR BOTH)

When I first saw them, I thought ________

Diana : Actually the first time we met it was kinda in the midst of an emergency, so I didn't get much time to form an impression but once he left I thought he was a (glances towards Ethan, then says in a rush) handsome asshole.

Ethan : Excuse me, what?

Diana : Well after I helped save the woman you told me that it was incredible I didn't kill her, forgive me if I can't think that you were an asshole.

Ethan : (a little flustered) That's not what I said excuse me fo- never mind, I thought she wasn't completely incompetent for an intern and also that she's quite bold.

Di : "Bold" ?

E : Yes, you tried to flirt with me.

Di : Oh that was before I knew who you were.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Ethan : She alternates between Shit and Fuck

Diana : Goddamnit and Fuck

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Diana : Blue, a bright clear blue.... umm it's quite noticeable when someone chews you out every other day.

Ethan : Dark brown that appears almost black at times.

Diana : (mutters)I am surprised he can see my eyes from his giraffe height

Ethan : glares at her

Diana : What? Oh did I say that out loud? Umm well it's true (shrugs)

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Diana : (giggling) I think it's easier to tell you about three people he doesn't hate, he hates everyone except Dr. Banerjee, Dr. Emery both of whom he respects and well me.

Ethan : (a rare smile playing in his lips) who said anything about not hating you Rookie?

Diana : Because you are my partner in crime and I think we are friends.

Ethan : "partner in crime"?

Diana : Yes we go to burning buildings together and anyways deny as much as you want, you don't hate me.

Ethan : (softly) I don't. (composing himself) In case of Dr. Ramirez, I don't think she can ever hate anyone, she herself says "I love everyone" I don't know how that's possible but she doesn't hate anyone at this place.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Diana : Definitely pinching the bridge of his nose thing, I once tried counting how many times he did it while morning rounds, it was exactly 17 times in two hours.

Ethan : Not my fault most interns are utterly hopeless. In Diana's case it's forgetting a hair tie every day and using a pen or a pencil to keep her hair up.

Di : This irritates him so much that he keeps a spare tie in his office now.

Ethan : I don't know why I put up with these habits (pinches the bridge of his nose)

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Diana : (in an uncanny imitation of Ethan's gruff voice) It's beyond me to have juvenile emotions such as a crush, it's mostly a result of continued exposure to the person for a long time anyways.

Ethan : What- I don't sound like that

Diana : You do!

Ethan : For her it might be one of her friends, they seem quite enamored by her.

Di : My friends....nah! It's someone else

E : Who else do you spend time with to have a crush on?

Di : A girl's gotta have some secrets. (muttering so softly that Ethan doesn't hear it) how much more oblivious can a man be?

(NEVER HAVE I EVER ROUND)

Ethan : What is that?

Di : You drink if you have done said thing before, it's a classic drinking game.

E : I am not playing any such game.

Di : Come on we are already doing this.

E : *Grumbles in agreement*

come into work hungover

The iced coffee lies untouched before both of them.

Diana : We are responsible doctors.

had a fistfight

Both take a sip of their respective beverages.

Diana : Okay I'll go first, I once punched a guy in seventh grade because he was being obnoxious and then his other friends taunted him on being punched by a girl which hurt his male ego and he tried to fight back but some of our teachers spotted me dodging it and I escaped punishment because of my pristine record.

Ethan : Well, in our field there are many power hungry morons who deserve being punched.

been kicked out of a bar

Ethan takes another sip, Diana doesn't.

Diana : Okay dish

E : We all do regrettable things in our youth.

Di : Really, you won't tell us?

E : (grins) I am going for an air of mystery.

Di : Well it's working

(Both smile at each other, forgetting their surroundings for some time)

gotten a tattoo.

None of them drink.

Di : It hurts like hell so I am never getting one.

broken someone’s heart.

Di : Nah! I haven't. But Ethan you drink this time.

Ethan : Why?

Di : Honestly have you ever seen the way the nurses look at you?

Ethan : If you say so (takes a sip)

been in love

Ethan : Doesn't drink but all of a sudden he fixes his gaze at her almost involuntarily.

Di : (Drinks) I like to think I have been in love before.

Ethan : (trying to look as uninterested as possible) What changed?

Di : Well we broke up after around two yearsof dating.

Ethan : (doesn't say anything but looks visibly less tense)

Di : Oh we are out of coffee...

E : You sit here I'll place our orders.

Di : Thanks

(DIANA)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Di : Professionally he'll most definitely contribute even more to the medical world, lead the Diagnostic Team like the best doctor he is. Personally, I dunno maybe he'll find someone, I hope he does, he needs someone to help and support him through his problem of shouldering every little thing.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Diana : His passion for medicine obviously, you should see when he talks about medicine, it's so evident how much he loves what he does and also how much he cares despite the gruff exterior he puts on in front of everyone.

Last thing he texted you?

Diana : He hates texting, so I think his last text was, let me see (scrolls through her phone)

"We need to put ciprofloxacin in our list, can you do me a favor by adding it?"

It's uh about a case.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Diana : It's never going to happen, he's Ethan Ramsey and I am, well me, but if uh hypothetically he asked me out, I'd say yes immediately, hypothetically obviously.

(Ethan returns with the coffee, then looks at Di's flustered face)

Ethan : What were you talking about?

Diana : Uh nothing I was just - (her pager goes off) We have the test results, I'll go and bring those back in a few minutes.

(ETHAN)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Ethan : She'll be an amazing doctor obviously, maybe even with a spot on the diagnostic team. I suppose she won't hear this?

Interviewer : No, she won't.

Ethan : Personally, with someone who values her contribution to our sphere of work, I suppose.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan : I really shouldn't be talking about this.

Interviewer : Don't worry, no one's hearing about this, it's just some extra information so that we know you better.

Ethan : She's an attractive woman obviously, but I think her smile, it's difficult to ignore and her eyes.

Last thing she texted you?

Ethan : "I AM DONE WITH MY PATIENTS🤩🥳"

"IT'S LIKE EVERYONE DECIDED TO BE SICK TODAY"

followed by a series of emoticons

"😣😖😫😩"

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan : I would have to turn her down, I am her boss.

(gazing wistfully at the street, eyes glued at Diana's approaching figure)

But perhaps in a different life I would have said yes.

Ethan : I think that's enough questions, she's here now and we have important matters at hand which require our attention.

-------------------

Taglist : @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @drariellevalentine @rookie-ramsey @aleynareads @miss-smrxtiee @terrm9 @aestheticartsx @fireycookie @maurine07 @starrystarrytrouble @schnitzelbutterfingers @tsrookie @anntoldstories @iemcpbchoices @stygianflood @sophxwithers @actuallybored @iloveethanramsey @natureblooms24 @chemist-ana @mercury84choices @casey-v @uneravine @mm2305 @mrsethanfreakingramsey @smilex1104 @missmiimiie @shanzay44 @sweetheartdetectivex @potionsprefect @headoverheelsforramsey @jerzwriter @mainstreetreader @coffeeheartaddict @adiehardfan @mia143

-----------------------

[theodora3022]

Crown Jewel

(noun): a particularly valuable or prized possession or asset.

Pairing: Francis Scott Fitzgerald X fem! former assassin reader

Summary: Having betrayed the Order of the Clock Tower and fled to Japan, you hid your ability and worked at the ADA as a secretary for protection. Life was not as good, but you knew what Lady Christie would do if she discovered a traitor’s whereabouts. You knew someone would dig up your old dirt sooner or later, but why does it have to be this arrogant, awful man? 

Notes: This is really self-indulgent (to satiate my cravings and daddy issues), so read it at your own risk. I am not comfortable with cheating, so Francis is single in this one and never went bankrupt.(But he is still a family man, his wife Zelda passed away before the events in the show) He is an arrogant bastard in canon so you might find his behaviour offensive but that is just how he is. Excuse my pathetic Canadian English, as I cannot write in British English at all. This fic took me too many hours to write, thankfully it is finally done...

Special thanks to my friends for beta reading this long thing, your encouragement and praises are what kept my fragile sanity intact in the process!

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: Mild bimbofication, mild objectification, coercion, implied dub-con(We all know what happens in marriages right?), Yandere themes

She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines.

She was beautiful for the way she thought.

She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved.

She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad.

No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks.

She was beautiful, deep down to her soul.

-F.Scott Fitzgerald

The entire Fitzgerald Estate is finely, thoughtfully decorated, lavish even. Like photographs right out of a luxurious architecture magazine, with marble floors, persian carpets and high raised ceilings. A manor that sits on the top of a little hill, surrounded by trees and flowerbeds. But no matter how beautiful it may be, no one can never feel quite at home in prison. You thought as you lean back on the living room sofa near the patio, slowly dozing off in the afternoon sunlight with a half-read novel on your lap. Maybe you would go for a swim later, you could use a soak before he returns.

It’s easy to forget how much blood is on your hands in peaceful times like these. Ever since he made you dispose of your count book, you can barely remember how many people you had slaughtered.

Your hands were once covered with callouses from hours of training, but now they are as smooth as the velvet curtains. The glow from the big diamond ring on your ring finger irritates you so very often, but he had warned you not to take it off.

“Lady Fitzgerald? Mrs. Smith is here for your fitting session.” It is one of the maids. Ah, is the tailor here already? You put up a smile for the guest and got up, silently cursing your “husband” in the process. Good thing he is at work most of the time, so you can at least enjoy this glamorous life every once in a while without wanting to bury yourself in a bottomless pit.

Another week, another one of those frivolous social events. But you have no choice but to accompany him to every single one of them. While acting as the leader of the Guild, Francis is also the head of the Fitzgerald cooperation, therefore this high society life has always been the norm for him. You, on the other hand, prefer lurking in the shades. All these shimmering lights, noisy parties, fancy dresses and high heels leave you either dazzled or vulnerable. You feel more like his nice accessory, a Christmas bauble than a wife. However, you know your obligations. Be his arm candy, smile, be obedient and not to speak unless spoken to. The alternative of obeying these absurdities is simply unthinkable. Merely the thought can make you feel chills on this warm summer afternoon.

It’s either this or absolute hell. No, that is not an exaggeration.

As an experienced assassin, you had prepared for death since you first signed up for the position. However, no one can bear the Order’s punishments. You know that too well, having witnessed it first-hand countless times.

At least you can live a carefree life with this option. With infuriating restrictions or not, you are still alive and maintain a certain degree of freedom. You should take this compared to an excruciating death any day. Plus you also get to live in extravagance, you cannot hate that for one bit. This rich man has spoiled you to no end, willing to fulfill even your most absurd requests as long as you are his darling wife. Let it be cars, clothes or jewelries, whatever you wish for, Francis would always make sure you got the finest of them.  Not that is ever possible, but you could...get used to this.

However, you utterly despise this title, Lady Fitzgerald? No matter how much he pampers you or showers you with gifts, it would never make up for the fact that you only signed that marriage license under certain conditions. There are those sleepless nights, while you lay under silk quilts in his embrace in some exquisite mansion, you wish you were back in your humble Yokohama flat alone.

---a few months ago

Almost spilling your morning beverage due to running into one of your coworkers at the door, is surely a bad omen, but at the time you did not give it much thought. “Sorry, (y/n)-san. But there is an emergency.” Kirako Haruno?

Work has only just begun, and to your knowledge, there are no major events scheduled for today. Why is she in such a hurry?

Haruno is as terrified as if she just saw a bear in the middle of the street. Strange, since she is usually calm and collected. 

“What has happened? Are you okay?”

“There are foreigners here, they are demanding an audience with the president. (y/n)-san, you can handle them, right? Please, keep them occupied while I notify the president.” Looks like this is your problem now since you speak better English compared to any other in the ADA.

She said it quickly without any pause. Also walked away before you had a chance to refuse, so Haruno missed how the colours suddenly drained from your visage and your horrid expression. 

Oh, dear. Please do not let the foreigners be them… Although not many members of the Order recognizes you as you always don masks even at meetings, you still feel the world may have ended for you, as you wobble out of the office to the reception area with cold sweat. If Haruno had not hurried off, you would have found some excuse to get away from this troublesome situation. You should have called in sick today...

Are they speaking with American accents? Good gracious, you almost had a heart attack over this. You dealt with the Guild before, back when you were still in the Order when you still viewed Lady Christie as your older sister. She used to take you to negotiations meetings. You know how they are, so it should be a cakewalk to keep them occupied for at least a while. But...what if they identify you and report your whereabouts to the Order?! Would they be willing to do Christie this “favour”? The last time you checked, the two organizations were not on exactly friendly terms. So you should be fine as long as you act accordingly. Besides, the agency would not allow foreigners to harm one of their office clerks, precisely why you applied for a job ADA a year-and-a-half ago.

Get your act together, (y/n). Being this panicked is beneath you, everything will be alright as long as you conceal your fears. 

Finishing on your diplomatic front preparation, you greet them with a professional attitude. “Welcome to the Armed Detective Agency, ladies and gentlemen of the Guild.” You try to talk in the calmest tone possible, without stutters. “Now if you would follow me, I shall prepare you some tea. The President will be ready for you shortly.” Now that you have a chance to observe them up close, you had to dig your nails into your palms, pressuring yourself to maintain composure. Why is the leader of the Guild here?! You had seen him before, there is no way you could mistake that arrogant blonde for anyone else. Even though you are pretty confident he would scarcely recognize you without a mask, that tiny possibility feels like a sharp blade pressing against your throat, ready to strike anytime. 

Fitzgerald was not expecting someone who speaks flawless English to receive them. Not someone this cute, too. And here he thought this is just going to be like any other boring business discussion. But he cannot shake off this feeling of how he had seen your enchanting smile somewhere before. It was not easy to leave even a vague impression on the great Francis Scotts Fitzgerald, you must have been someone important. A business partner? A Government Official? Or perhaps a Socialite? You are someone with a high position, that he can be sure. But why would you Oh how he hates having blurry memories of something. As soon as he returns to the Guild base, Francis needs to look into their Database immediately. 

“Earl Grey, imported from England. Would you like some refreshments as well?” Taking out a can of cream biscuits from your desk drawer, you are glad to see the redhead young girl nodding excitedly. You return a genuine smile to her before bending down to fetch the plate. You were not sure if you were just being oversensitive, but you felt a burning gaze on your back when you turned. Your assassin instincts were almost always accurate, could it be that Fitzgerald had remembered something?

“Is there something wrong, Miss? You are sweating so much.” You do appreciate the ginger girl’s kind words, but could she not say it out loud for her boss to hear? You were planning on keeping your panics to yourself. Moving unnoticeable further away from the Guild leader, you gulped nervously. 

“My apologies. I am not feeling well this morning. Now, here’s your biscuits.”

“Aren’t they called cookies? They are truly delicious, thank you so much, Miss. I’m Lucy by the way.”

“In England, we call them biscuits. Would you like some more, Lucy? I have more if you’ll like it.” Her cheerful nature reminds you of a little sister, how could you say no to her pleading eyes. Unfortunately, this also made you forget how you are trying to remain incognito, and you let your hidden past out unintentionally. 

England? That certainly rings a bell for the bright mind of Francis Fitzgerald. And no, he was not eavesdropping. You are talking to his employee, after all. Francis even forgot to scold Lucy about being a demanding guest on cookies because he was so deep in thought, searching for any clue of who you might be. He was about to recall something when you received the president’s notice about the meeting. “The President is ready now, this way please.”

After they entered the office, you realized how you had accidentally exposed yourself while explaining about biscuits. No, now all you can do is pray Fitzgerald was not listening in to that whimsical tea-time conversation. Your stomach suddenly feels queasy, a sign that maybe you should request to go home early. You surely do not want to face those calculating blue eyes again. Heck, you never trembled this badly, not even before the toughest missions. 

He was planning on asking you some questions after that unsuccessful negotiation, but it would seem like you had taken a sick leave early. 

You seem to be rather nervous around him. Suspicious. 

Yet Francis cannot stop thinking about how you cared for Lucy. That consideration, if his little daughter is still around, she is bound to love you… It could just be professional kindness, but Francis had seen enough people to tell what is a facade or not. Zelda was like this too, in fact, it’s this admirable quality that had drawn him in the first place.

The great Fitzgerald had seen so many beautiful women, but your unparalleled warmth and grace outshine all appearances. 

Wait, Francis had finally cleared the fog now. Aren’t you that girl with Agatha Christie, the head knight of the Order of the Clock Tower? No wonder you speak of England. He was so shocked when Christie introduced you as one of her finest knights. You were so friendly and lighthearted, how can you be that notorious master Assassin? It does not matter whether you had a mask on or not, he remembers those lovely (colour) eyes too well. He had found you to be alluring back then, but at that time he was too busy to concern himself with amorous feelings. Going through the guild files, he found that statement from Christie about how you had defected from the Order and a bounty for your whereabouts.

So, you are hiding from your former Organization? That is unfortunate. Francis had heard a word or two about how the Order is feared for its gruesome torture methods, how they still implement the old ways without mercy. You would rather work as a low-wage secretary then continue being one of their most esteemed Knights, something must have gone terribly wrong. 

This is the perfect wager to let you, a kind, independent strong woman, bend to his will. 

Now that he had thought about it, coming back home to a loving wife once again sounds more than wonderful. Having someone by his side forever, to love, to spoil, to have a family with had always been what he wanted. But fate has been cruel to Francis on this matter and had taken them away way too soon. 

This time, he would make sure to do it right. Francis is determined not to let the tragedy repeat itself.

You were surprised by that clearly expensive gift box on your desk the next day you arrived at work. There is a letter attached to it? Your heart dropped when you saw the Guild's emblem embedded on the wax seal. What could they possibly want from you apart from...that?

“Dear Ms(y/n), Sir Francis S FitzGerald would like you to join him for dinner at (location). Please put on the dress in the box attached and be at (location) at seven p.m sharp.” 

What a condescending letter. Not even a polite invitation, just saying he wants you there? You knew how this Fitzgerald is, that arrogant and greedy type, who would value money above conscience. Well, you still got some savings left, if that could shut him up you would not mind emptying your pockets.

You can never let her find you. Suicide before she did is a possible option, but you decided to save that as the last resort.

That is why you decided to put on that dress and go to meet him at this high-end western restaurant. 

The hem of the dress is too short for your likings, but its sublime texture made you presume it costs a fortune. You cannot even recall when was the last time you had don such fine material. Life as a Knight major feels nothing more than a fever dream when Agatha was still your friend, your dear Commander.

What is Fitzgerlad’s intention of giving you such a scandalous dress? Is this some peculiar way to humiliate you? This is why you are better off acting as the blade, never as the tactician. Mind games were never your forte. 

You are wearing that dress as Francis asked, good. He knew you would look gorgeous in it. It’s such a shame you always covered yourself up. Why wear those cheap, conservative trash when you can wear this?

Someone like you needs to be cherished, to be coddled. You do not belong in the shades or some little office.

“Mr. Fitzgerald. How may I help you today?” God, you feel almost naked in this piece of cloth, but you know you had to grin and bear it as he has the upper hand for now. “If this is about that business permit, I am not the one to make decisions.”

“Why, you are not going to thank me for the dress? You look absolutely breathtaking if you are wondering.” Crap, he is wearing a suit of a matching colour. Has he done this on purpose?

You blush a bit at Francis’s generous compliment, but you did not foreget why you are here.

“Please, do sit. And call me Francis, Miss.” Pulling the chair out for you, Francis smiled politely before signalling the waiters to bring out the appetizers. He is acting way too nice if all he wants is blackmailing you. You were expecting a simple, cold business trade, not...whatever this can be called.

“So, how is Lady Christie doing?” You put down the wine glass, sensing his malicious intent and narrowing your eyes. Of course, he knows, you should have expected this much from the leader of the Guild and an accomplished businessman. Lady Christie must have sent out wanted advertisements, too. 

“If you know this much then you must know I am not a part of the Order anymore.” Just name the price already, then you can both go back to your respective businesses and forget your paths ever crossed.

Clever one, although Francis would expect anything less from someone like you. Not just anyone could be the Knight major of that Order after all. You sighed with frustration, clearly wanting to get this over with. “How much do you need? I still have a decent sum in my bank account.” It would probably be a large price, coming from this greedy man, but you are willing to pay for it as long as he stays silent.

You, trying to bribe him? How adorable. You must have been incredibly oblivious to not notice his intentions. Yes, normally a good check would silence Francis, but can’t you see he is not after your money here?

Instead of taking the pen, Francis shoved his smartphone in front of your face. 

You turn paler when you figure out the contents. It was an email draft, a draft intended for your former Commander. It tells how the Guild is doing her a big favour by returning her astray Knight major to her proper place. Did he type out an email already? You can already feel those cold dungeon bars on your skin. 

“Is money not enough? What exactly do you need?” Calm down, (y/n). If Francis did not send that email, it means negotiation is still possible. Just give him what he needs and be done with it. 

To your shock, the blonde smiled smugly and said: “I want you to join the Guild.”

Join the Guild? “As an assassin?” Of course, he is after your ability. It was what made you a high ranking knight, no wonder he would want that for his organization. 

“Not exactly. You see, I’m looking for a...personal bodyguard.” Hm, Francis is fond of the word “personal” in this context, it makes him feel like you are one of his possessions already.

“If you have any knowledge about my ability at all, you should know I am no good for frontal combat. With your status, fitting individuals would come running.” Is he toying with you? How despicable. Only a dastard would toy with someone’s mind, especially someone desperate.

Carefully taking your hand into his, feeling your soft skin and those light calluses on your fingers, Francis knows he has to do this the blunt way. You are such a fool when it comes to romantic relationships. 

“Be my wife, you don’t need to worry about being discovered ever again. Christie cannot touch you as long as you are by my side. You can have whatever you want, just say the word. ”

This has to be a hallucination. Be his...wife? “Mr. Fitzgerald, have you got hit on the head earlier?” Feeling his forehead with the back of your hand: “You do not seem to have a fever. Are you feeling unwell?” Is he out of his mind? You, his wife? You are a dangerous assassin with a high headcount, not exactly wife material. No one sane wishes to be involved with you romantically, or so you thought.

He was not expecting such an eccentric reaction. Most women would be over the moon with the mere thought of becoming his mistress, not to mention an actual wife. Francis knows you are different, but this is out of his wildest predictions. 

You are even harder to predict than the stock market of New York.

“This is a serious offer, love. Do you take my words as some jester’s joke?” He is not joking? Oh dear, you don’t want to marry this man. He did not even properly court you? And it is not like he is giving you a real choice either.

“What, are you going to refuse? That is fine, surely this email could bring a smile to Christie's face.” “No, please don’t send that email!”The way your pupils shrink suddenly gives him heartaches, but this is the necessary measure to make sure you are compliant. Francis had promised to spoil you, but sadly this is not a matter he can compromise with. He could make it up with gifts and attention later right? This life in exile is not fitting for a lady like you, so why don’t you let him take care of you? Don’t you understand what could happen to you had he not intervened?

That trembling little nod is all Francis needs for confirmation. As he brings your hand to his lips for a gentle kiss, he swore silently to himself how he would never repeat his previous mistakes.

“Now, let us go ring shopping. Pick the biggest diamond one if you like, but make sure to select it out with a matching one.”

----Back to present

After the fitting appointment, you decided to spend the rest of the afternoon with some confectionary practices. You remember well how Francis’s face would lit up like a Christmas tree if he comes home to the smell of your bakings. It disgusts you how much he loves your docile mask, how you are his perfect housewife, his Mrs. Fitzgerald. This bastard do take pleasure in others pain.

Still, you must keep your “husband” happy. Humming your favourite melody in a pink apron, you try to imagine you are just doing this for only your own amusement, in your own house to make this more bearable. 

Baking is one of the many hobbies you picked up after becoming Lady Fitzgerald. You could not work, neither as an assassin nor a secretary, as he is concerned about your “safety”: “Why should my lovely wife trouble herself with those headaches? You should spend your day doing whatever interests you, like painting or knitting! Tell me anytime if you need tutors.” Then Francis gave your head a few pats as if you are some cute puppy? You can never count how many screws he got loose.

What interests you? Well, stabbing Francis in his sleep could hardly count as a suitable hobby. Guess you’ll have to think of other ways to utilize those kitchen knives.  Since he forbids you to train with weapons, you are stuck with those pathetic feminine leisure activities. 

Placing the tray onto the preheated oven rack, you were cleaning up the mess from the process when two strong arms abruptly wrapped around your waist from behind. You knew exactly who it is since you had sensed his presence when he first set a foot into this ridiculously large kitchen. You also had to take deep breaths, reminding yourself why you shouldn’t just aim your fists at Francis’s nose then and there. These past few months with him had raised your resilience to an incredible level, you could tolerate his demanding physical affections without the urge to jump off a cliff now. 

Curling your lips upwards, you push yourself to leave a light peck on the tall blonde man’s left cheek. That is mandatory, you had learned that on the first day here. “You’re home early.” The way you say those words is so sweet, even sweeter than those sugary treats in the oven. Even though you have to be careful, not letting the venom underneath slip out.

This is what Francis S. Fitzgerald longs to come home to, the love of his life after a day of gruelling meetings and other work. Once a renowned assassin, a second-in-command Knight in a Prestigious Royal Order, but now you are just his little housewife. He could never find a shinier trophy to demonstrate his power and influence. The haughty Blonde knows you have not entirely given up on the idea of escaping, still holding a grudge towards him, time will tell whether you accept your place or not. But that does not matter now, right now the Guild leader just wants to watch some brainless tv show on the sofa, with you on his lap to unwind, some Bordeaux would be nice too. He could handle all those business meetings if that means holding you to sleep every night. The sight of your smile makes it all worth it. 

You belong to him now, his most prized possession, the crown jewel of Francis Fitzgerald’s collection.

And you have no say in the matter as long as you wish to stay in the land of the living.

It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving,

But like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living.

-F.Scott Fitzgerald

(Hey! Thank you for reading! Commetns and reblogs would be greately appreciated!)

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi, I have questions about T types.

1)If all thinker (T) types and Ti/Te are objective and logical, then why do they arrive at different conclusions or have different opinions [and often call their own view logical and others as emotional, even if they are thinkers as well]? Shouldn’t they arrive at the same objective conclusions?

((For example, why is one T type religious and the other one atheist? Why is one thinker pro-life and the other one pro-choice? Why is One T type conservative and the other one liberal? Or one pro LGBT and one against them? Or one into one theory and one against it?))

Because we are not robots programmed to think the same, and every TiFe user uses subjective logic (what seems rational to them) and every TeFi user uses individual values (what they care about the most and prioritize). So they won’t agree on everything, see everything the same way, etc. But most of them would agree on a baseline logical framework (Ti) or proven facts (Te).

2) Who defines what is logical (and how)? I mean most of the times, when two people argue and have different opinions, viewers view the arguments/points of charismatic people, older people, more famous/influential people or more confident people to be valid, rightful and logical. (Or they might view the viewpoints of the person already on their side and with similar views to be logical).

Logic is determined either by the facts and evidence to prove it (Te) or the internal logical soundness of the argument itself (Ti). Believing older people over younger people shows a Si preference (the old ways work the best, because they are proven by time); believing people who are convincing and charismatic is often Fe (everyone is agreeing with this, so it must be right!).

Even in movies, one character does one thing, and some people (viewers) call it logical and some others call it emotional. 

*For example, in Harry Potter, Prof. Dumbledore used Harry in order to sacrifice him and kill Voldemort. Some people defined this as logical, because the end justifies the means and sacrificing one person, to reach something big is justifiable. Others believed what he did was not logical and he could have thought about other ways to kill Voldemort instead of using another person.

It’s not ‘logical’ so much as it is a Fe value judgment: one person SHOULD sacrifice himself for the greater good of humanity, because we are all a cog in the wheels of the world and owe each other our lives. Putting aside the point that Harry was a Horcrux and Dumbledore knew it, there was literally no other way to defeat Voldemort in a permanent manner, so it was the only solution. Harry had to die. (Snape also makes a Fi value judgment against Dumbledore -- that it’s sick that he would keep the boy alive ‘to die at the PROPER moment.’)

People are judging Dumbledore based on their own value judgments (what they think is rational or not) rather than being objective about the situation and Dumbledore’s role in it. The point is the value judgments they are making and why, and the system Dumbledore is using to process information -- his Fe bias.

*Or, two people work for a company and their boss is unfair to them or is about to do something wrong. One coworker confronts the boss and fights for themselves because they need to stand their ground and earn respect, the other one stays quiet because their boss might take it personally, hold a grudge and do something bad to or against them in the future. Some people might say the former is logical and some others may say the latter is logical.

It is either logical or irrational depending on the person involved and their boss, the likelihood of push-back and consequences. The former person shows a gut-driven boundary assertive style (1 or 8) and the latter shows a 6ish fearful style. A thinker or a feeler might reach that reaction, based on whether they challenge authority or bow to it.

*Things/people/bosses are unfair to two workers (e.g., they face favoritism at work). One stays because they have to work anyways and it shouldn’t affect them. The other one quits and goes to work for another company because working for people who are unfair to them ruins their chances for improvement, promotions or their mental state.

In this case, look at their motives. What makes them stay? Is it because they have a bill to pay at the end of the month? Their family is relying on them? People’s reasons for their actions often tell you who they are.

*A parent raises kids by (physically and verbally) punishing them. He thinks he is being logical because raising kids could be difficult otherwise and the kids have to learn to be obedient and submissive. Then another person says that there are better and more logical ways for raising kids too, and their method is not logical.

Again, that’s likely an Enneagram distinction. Anyway, by now you get my point.

So, what I mean and my question is, when trying to type ourselves, or other people, how do we define what’s logical and what’s not? Who is a thinker type and who is a feeler type?

How can we not mistake T “stereotypes” such as strictness, rudeness, ruthlessness, aggressiveness, confidence, charisma, directness, etc. with real T charactristics?

How can we not mistake kindness, tolerance, shyness, factfulness, caution, depression, anxiety, etc. as F?

Thank You

Feelers prioritize their own feelings or other people’s feelings into their decisions and the only time this doesn’t happen is when they are unhealthy and behaving abnormally. Thinkers put objective decisions first and devalue people’s emotions in the process, which means they are clumsy with handling their own and other people’s feelings.

You need to learn to see Feeler as “ethical judgments” and Thinker as “rational judgments” instead of focusing purely on behaviors. What is the judgment? Where is it coming from? What does it lean toward? Inclusiveness in a Fe way or the facts in a Te way? How does each type feel about something? Te types believe enough hard work and elbow grease will get you places, especially strong Te types. Fe types believe one should contribute to the greater whole, because one is an extension of a human race that have things in common even despite their differences.

It’s not easy to learn to think this way. I’ve been doing it for over a decade and I’m still tempted to type by behaviors rather than motivations, but you have to look at what is being said, what the thought process is behind it, and what the person/character is ‘telling you’ about how they think/feel in order to type properly. You need to see Te and Fe as JUDGMENTS based on criteria, not as being logical or irrational.

Being strict, rude, ruthless, aggressive, confident, charismatic, direct, isn’t T.

Being kind, tolerant, shy, fanciful, cautious, depressed, or anxious is not F.

T: rational judgments based on objective evidence or logic.

F: ethical judgments based on people and their needs.

[aspenflower17]

Alright. I need to scream into the void because it is 5 AM and the anxiety is eating me alive.

So, in the tradition that is going on now, I am not happy at my job. My boss has done a lot of really messed up stuff, even before her staff all left. Here's some of them. Note: I am the assistant manager, with no manager above me.

1. When I started, we had monthly morning meetings to make sure everyone was on the same page (I started November 2019). Because of the pandemic, I understand why we stopped. So, 2021 rolls around and I was extremely excited to start those back up. Everytime I would tell her to schedule one (because I'm not in charge of the schedule), she would find some excuse not to do it. It is now September 2021, and we have had 1 (one) meeting, which she wouldn't really let me direct.

2. She won't come into her own store unless something huge is happening. She has told me on multiple occasions that she has to have employees to run the store because she can't always be there. Note, this is a small business. I can't tell you how many times I've been asked if I'm the owner because she. Does. Not. Come. In. She (hopefully) comes in once a week to bring us money and then bails.

3. Because of that, I have basically been running the store. I have had former co-workers tell people that stayed past them, "There's only so much responsibility [the owner] can put on [AspenFlower17] without just handing her the keys to the store." I have essentially gone gray enough at this point that people have suggested I just dye my hair gray. I'm going to be 26 next month... That's messed up.

4. I almost hit my breaking point a LONG time ago. After having a shift with her that left me in tears, I was ready to turn in my two weeks but then I found CBD for my anxiety. I stuck it out. When it got bad again, we hired a lovey, lovey girl who has turned into a friend for me. Because of her, I stayed a whole other year because I didn't hate work anymore. CBD doesn't help me anymore at work I'm so stressed. I no longer get to work with this coworker.

She also promoted me to assistant manager while we already had one and told me not to say anything to the current assistant manager because she would talk to her. A month or two later, we all had a meeting together, and THAT'S WHEN SHE TOLD HER!!! So, she left shortly thereafter because she felt like we were sneaking around behind her back, and I honestly don't blame her.

She also did not come in and work during covid even though we were open the whole time.

5. She has just, straight up lied about me to my staff. So, we had a lengthy discussion about what we could go for the staff to help combat burnout. I suggested we do a breakfast that wasn't a meeting just so everyone had time to hang out together. She agreed and when I mentioned going to a local restaurant, she then countered by essentially saying that we need to keep it cheap and to get stuff from the grocery store. So, I told her what day I was going to do it and then that we would have a meeting the next week. She said, "Okay. Well, mornings don't work well for me, so you just do it, and the store will just pay you back for it." Because she has a communication issue I had run into before, I verified the date and that I was okay to do it. She said yes, do it.

So day of the breakfast rolls around. It... Didn't go like I thought it would (partially because I was SUPER tired) but it happened. Whatever. The owner then spoke with one of the employees about how she was thinking about doing a breakfast for all of us. Said employee (who quit fairly soon there after) tells her we had already done it. The onelwer then tells her, "No... We had talked about it, but we never set anything up," and then proceeds to ask for details about it, and tells the employee we were all going to go to a restaurant and blah, blah, blah.

The staff then tells me, to which I obviously told them what actually happened, but it really kind of broke their trust with me and her because it wasn't a very good breakfast (we never had that nice one she told us about btw). I caught her in a point blank our again to me about another staff member later on, so I know they weren't lying (plus she seemed upset with me afterward for awhile). We did have the meeting though (the one we've had that I mentioned above, so... Obviously we decided on something... 👀

6. The back room is out of control and it's not my fault. So, we had a meeting with a higher up in the company (it's a franchise company, so no corporate but there is oversight) and he ran the numbers for us and told us that we need to buy more product to make our store a success (won't go into details, bit we buy products from people and then resale them). So I did. I pushed the staff to buy more stuff and low and behold, we had one of the best years we've EVER had, since the owner opened.

But, with more product comes more back stocking. And when I tell you our back room absolutely EXPLODED. It became a stressful place to be and I told the owner we needed more bins (which is what we put back stock in) when it started getting bad. She told me, "No. You need to make sure the bins we have are full and you need to stock more."

Well, about this time, we physically were not able to stock more because she didn't tell me it was clearance time and we were out if hangers, which I also communicated to her, and she brought us like 2 boxes (which doesn't do much). But I did everything I could to make that happen. I spent a ton of time combining bins and just trying to make it work in general and it wasn't working.

So, she comes into the back one day and just... Panics and reads me the right act for not telling her sooner that we needed bins... So I tell her, "But I did, back before it got this bad. You told me to just combine bins and put stuff out, but I can't do that because I can't because I'm out of hangers," and she says, "But I didn't know it was this bad..." But then later redacted that to say I never told her. So, she brings bins (BECAUSE SHE HAD SONE THE ENTIRE TIME), we... Kind of get the backroom manageable, and she tells me, "Now, if it ever gets bad again, you have to let me know. This is why communication is so important."

So, we use all the bins and are BARELY able to keep that okay. So, fast forward a couple months. The backroom is still messy and we've had... 4 people leave at this point (many because of the backroom). I have my lovely coworker come out of the back and tell me point blank, "[AspenFlower17], that backroom is stressing me out. I don't care if I have to buy them. We HAVE to get bins," so I go, "Cool. Let me text [the owner]," and so I text and tell her, "We need more bins. The staff is getting stressed out," and she texts back, "Well, I need a list if everything you have back there first," ... So I do. She then comes in and instead of working in the back, she's upfront BUYING MORE PRODUCT (she always buys a TON). Then, when I get there, she pulls me around the store, tells me everything that's wrong (note I haven't left behind the counter in we weeks because of buys), and then pulls me to the back, brings out a ton of bins for everyone to stock, and then leaves... That was the ultimate breaking point. I started enacting the exit plan I had come up with since I was already planning on leaving. We still don't have new bins btw.

7. Okay. So. I hired 3 new people. I knew one of them wasn't going to be great, bit figured the other two would be a good fit (this is around the time that everyone was leaving their jobs).

One girl, my favorite actually of the three, completely no showed on me and sent me a text quitting about it 40 mins before her shift though I didn't get it until 5 mins after she was supposed to show up because I DON'T CHECK MY PHONE AT WORK? I told the owner and said I could stay the extra two hours. She says, "Glad you're there."

Next day, I was able to spend some time in the back because, well, I needed to, and didn't get super far, but got some stuff done. I offered to stay longer but was told it was fine, even though one of my coworkers have herself dry socket and was in pain. We were short staffed because that girl quit.

So I go to my friend's house, glad the weeks over because I had the next day off. I then get a text from the coworker with dry socket asking was I actually did in the back. I tell her, getting really pissed at this point, and then she tells me something is leaking back there. So, I head BACK over after a 7 hour shift. She's freaking out and crying. My other coworker is trying to figure out the leak. In the meantime, product is getting wet. So, I stay back there and organize. We send the one with dry socket home and the other coworker is pretty pissed, says she's not staying past 8 and that I shouldn't either; the owner needs to if she wants the store to stay open. So, she texts the owner asking what to do, and doesn't get a reply. I text her, and get a reply 20 minutes later saying the earliest she can come in is 8...

So, this coworker tells me I need to leave because she's taking advantage of me and everything. I ended up staying another 4 hours. The owner was not there right at 8 (did I mention she's also late to almost EVERYTHING?) and seems put out because she had to scramble to find a baby sitter... Ummm... This is your store? And we could have closed early?

8. She's given me tons of shifts with BRAND new people and expected the store to run just fine. She won't even come into help with that.

9. So, I finally put in my two weeks on September 3rd. Work was so bad, I was starting to have suicidal thoughts. Everyone had just reached their breaking point and I was just done. I did not get a reply from her about it (I texted because of my anxiety). The next Tuesday she talked to me about it. I told her I was having suicidal thoughts and I wasn't happy. The next day we talk again, she and convinced me to stay if she made me the backstock manager, so I would only really deal with the back room and the stuff I actually enjoy (and no customers). She also told me she would handle staffing and front end stuff. I figured that would be a good thing, since that's what I've wanted since I started and it would be a full time position. The first week went fine. The second week I had time off, WHICH I REQUESTED BACK IN APRIL, and things just fell apart (partially because if another no show) and she did try to guikt trip me into coming in, which I refused.

It is the 22nd and I am not backstock manager. She has scheduled me 6 days this week and has scheduled it so she is only on the schedule twice. I still have to do staffing things. I'm still doing front end stuff, and she actually got snippy with me on Monday because she left for two hours and a new girl was whining about breaks and asking if she was coming back WHILE I WAS BUSY, so she asked if she could text the owner when she was coming back and I told her sure, whatever. The owner then calls me asking all these questions about why she had texted her and that she shouldn't have her phone on her and blah blah blah WHILE I AM LITERALLY TRYING TO HELP A CUSTOMER WHO DOESN'T SPEAK VERY GOOD ENGLISH!!! and then said, "Well, technically, I'm not on the schedule. I just came in to help you guys, so you're going to have to figure out breaks."

... What happened to you being in charge of the front?

She says I'll be in my new position in a matter of WEEKS, but won't show me anything new with it and with how this is going, I'm pretty sure, even if I do get in this new position, she's going to make me do shift leader stuff when she's short staffed again. She has had she entire staff quit on her before, so it's not like this is a new thing with her.

She doesn't complete all the tasks she's supposed to during the day and just leaves it for night crew, or if she's closing, for the next morning (because she does often open) but then doesn't get it done, again pushing it onto night crew. If we don't get done though, she'll reprimand us.

The problem is, I would just leave, but I feel really guilty about it. We are extremely short staffed and I feel like if I leave now, the store will fail and I've put so much into it, it just feels like a waste.

Everyone is telling me to get out and just leave... But... Anxiety... Plus I feel bad because I told her I'd stay.

Honestly, at this point I'm just looking for some validation that I should leave.

Oh, I also get paid $14... For an assistant manager position. Minimum wage in my state is $7.25 for reference. I also have a seasonal job that ends in October that doesn't pay well, but I enjoy.

Please... Thoughts?

[spring-days-at-dusk]

Beast Translation Update!

Hey! Me again. Something’s come up so my typesetter won’t be free until the 22nd of December. I’m sorry for the delay and would like to thank everyone for your patience. In the meantime, under the cut are chapter summaries I wrote for those that really want to find out what happened! Sorry they’re pretty long for summaries since I suck at being concise, hope you enjoy!

Beast Chapter 8 Summary [Title: The Beast Called Myself]

Oda asked Akutagawa to babysit the kids he looks after for three days while Oda is away on a business trip. Akutagawa is very upset at this, even more so when Oda refers to him as the eldest of the kids he looks after. 

On the first day of babysitting, Akutagawa uses his ability to play with the kids. The second day, he visits Sakura’s class and helps motivate her to answer the teacher’s question. 

On the third day, Kousuke cooks a meal for Akutagawa and asks him to give him combat training. Kousuke explains that he wants to get stronger to join the detective agency like Oda, who he says is like an older brother to him. He pulls out a gun that he bought himself and Akutagawa is surprised that a criminal would sell a gun to a child. 

The combat training begins and Akutagawa is very clearly winning the fight. Akutagawa then puts a gun up to his own head but Rashomon blocks all the bullets. He says that he hates guns, explaining that they cause people to grow ignorant, which he says is the reason his friends were killed. He uses his ability to destroy the gun and tells Kousuke that if he ever steps foot in front of Akutagawa with a gun again, he’ll kill him.

Oda returns from his business trip and apologizes for ‘leaving the dirty work’ to Akutagawa (i.e. fighting Kosuke), since Oda says that if he were to fight Kosuke, it would only ‘fuel his admiration’. Akutagawa says that Kosuke isn’t cut out for fighting and would be better off becoming a chef. He says that Kosuke is too willing to sacrifice himself for his younger siblings to survive in a heartless world. Oda then gives Akutagawa some of his wisdom, telling him not to chase ‘the beast of yourself’.

Akutagawa asks if this was all set up just for Oda to try to convince him to control himself when fighting ‘the man in black’. Oda denies that though. Akutagawa finished the conversation by saying he was wrong about Kosuke. Oda responds with ‘I hope so’.

Back in the cafe under the ADA, Akutagawa calls Kunikida to try to get out of doing any paperwork when the door swings open and Atsushi enters.

Beast Chapter 9 Summary [Title: Encounter, Part 1]

Atsushi tells Akutagawa that he was asked to deliver a letter to the president of the ADA. However, he got lost on the way and it started raining so he had to take shelter in the cafe. To Atsushi’s relief, Akutagawa tells him that the ADA is on the fourth floor of the building they are in. 

Atsushi puts three sugar cubes into his coffee and says that his coworkers always tell him it’s too much. He says he can’t help it due to the place he grew up. ‘An orphanage’ says Akutagawa. Atsushi asks how he knew that. Akutagawa explains that he grew up in a similar environment. Atsushi seems distraught as he says that the natural instinct to use a lot of sugar is probably something that he’ll have for the rest of his life. Much to Atsushi’s surprise, Akutagawa replies by saying he uses four cubes of sugar in his tea.

Atsushi asks if Akutagawa knows about how everyone was always fighting to get their hands on pencils and notebooks. Akutagawa says ‘of course’. He then asks if Atsushi knows about chocolate bars. Atsushi responds with “Of course, it’s a type of currency, isn’t it? There’s relatively a lot, but everyone always wants it, so its value remains constant. Therefore it naturally became used as currency.”

Akutagawa says that at one point, for a while he ate nothing but chocolate bars and then collapsed due to malnutrition. Atsushi bursts out laughing at this.

Atsushi tells him that this is the first time he talked about this. He then asks Akutagawa to deliver the letter for him and asks what his name is. They exchange names.

Akutagawa then asks who sent the letter and Atsushi says it’ll be clear who sent it when the letter is opened. Akutagawa says to be safe, he has to check what’s in the letter in case it’s something dangerous. 

Inside the letter, Akutagawa finds a photo of Gin. He asks Atsushi if he knows the person in the photo, Atsushi says he does but is confused as to why the boss put a photo of her in the letter. Akutagawa’s rage is building as he asks Atsushi to tell him where Gin is. Atsushi says he can’t tell Akutagawa where she is, since there is a rule in his organization stating that if you ever find someone searching for Gin, you must kill them. Akutagawa then announces that Gin is his little sister. Atsushi doesn’t believe him, saying she doesn’t have any family. The two begin fighting. They’re pretty evenly matched and eventually Atsushi decides to leave. He says he has to report this to his boss and ask him why there was a photo of Gin in the letter.

Akutagawa tries to stop him from leaving but some mysterious attack renders him unconscious. 

Beast Chapter 9.5 (Title: Encounter, Part 2)

Akutagawa thinks about his past, when Dazai told him that he would keep his sister until he figured out what his weakness is. The words of Oda also echo in his mind: “Don’t chase the beast of yourself.” He also tells Akutagawa that he ‘will surely be given a chance for redemption’. 

Akutagawa then wakes up and notices his wound is gone. Yosano tells him to follow her and the two head to a room with some of the other ADA members and a projector. 

A video is played on the projector of a meeting between Chief Taneda and Dazai Osamu. Kunikida says that Ranpo found out that this video was taken by the government and Tanizaki then says that Oda snuck in and got the video, saying the dangerous mission took Ranpo and Oda three days. Kunikida explains the science behind how the video was secretly obtained using luminous flux waves. 

Kunikida then plays the video, in which Chief Taneda says that he heard that Dazai assassinated Mori, Dazai responds with “That’s quite the troublesome information network you have”. 

Akutagawa says that he recognized Dazai to be ‘the man in black’. He asks Kunikida to tell him where Dazai is. Kunikida says that he’s on the top floor of the Port Mafia headquarters but explains to Akutagawa that getting to him is impossible. He tells Akutagawa that if he goes, he’ll die. Akutagawa says that it doesn’t matter. He tells Kunikida about the photo of Gin in the letter Atsushi gave him. He says that since Atsushi is reporting to Dazai that Akutagawa is looking for Gin, then Dazai will know he’s coming, causing him to reinforce security and disappear. Alternatively, Akutagawa thinks Dazai might threaten to kill Gin. Tanizaki tells Akutagawa to wait, saying if he goes alone he’ll be killed. Akutagawa shoves him and leaves anyway. 

A group of armed men spot Akutagawa approaching and are ordered to kill him.

Beast Chapter 10 (Title: Scheme)

Akutagawa begins infiltrating the port mafia headquarters. He remembers his first meeting with Dazai, who called him ‘an unintelligent, dangerous animal’ and he thinks about his friends calling out to him for help. He demands to be told where Dazai is. Kyouka then makes an appearance. Akutagawa tells her to get out of the way and that even if she’s a little girl, he’ll kill her if needed. Kyouka says no matter what she’ll silence Akutagawa to protect ‘that person’ (Atsushi). 

Dazai asks if Atsushi knows who the intruder is, he tells him about their encounter in the cafe. Atsushi requests permission to ask Dazai a question. He asks if it is true that Akutagawa is Gin’s older brother. Dazai says it is true. Atsushi then says “You wanted the Mafia headquarters to be attacked, didn’t you?”. Dazai says he did and then begins a monologue about how the smallest things can lead to large natural disasters, implying that this is all a part of a much larger picture.

Akutagawa and Kyouka continue fighting, Kyouka talks about a time when she tried to leave the port mafia, a person was sent after her to kill her and she says that person was much stronger than Akutagawa. Akutagawa remembers when Oda told him that “when it comes to physical combat, your body’s frailty comes to light” so Akutagawa decides to ‘turn this fight into a battle of abilities’. Akutagawa seems to think he’s about to win when Atsushi comes to kyouka’s rescue. Kyouka tells atsushi that she felt if she didn’t fight Akutagawa, he’d go up against Atsushi and one of them would die. Atsushi reassures her that he won’t die, that he’ll never let her be alone in the darkness. Akutagawa remarks that “there are kind hearted murderers

huddled together in this organization of darkness”. He says the thought could move him to tears, however he did research about Kyouka and Atsushi, calling them ‘the murderer of 35 people’ and ‘the white reaper of the port mafia’. He says that “ No matter how much you grasp onto each other with your bloodied hands, you will never be able to feel one another’s warmth”. Atsushi then responds by saying “That might be true. But even if that’s the case, then you and Gin san will never be able to feel one another’s warmth either”

-

Thank you for reading the summaries! Hope you like them <3 Sorry they’re so wordy and once again, thank you all so much for your patience.