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tlbodine · 13 days ago

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So, Things Are Terrible and You Want to DO SOMETHING

The election is over and, ah...did not go well. While a lot of folks are doing a post mortem of the campaigns and trying to understand what happened with the vote and fighting over who shoulders the blame, we've gotta turn an eye toward the future and figure out, okay fam, where the fuck do we go from here.

I don't have all the answers on this, and I'm not an authority by any means, I'm just a horror author with a blog. But I've been thinking a lot about it and I wanted to share my thought process with others who might want to DO SOMETHING but feel they're spinning their wheels.

Buckle in. This will be a long one.

Step One: Understand the actual risks and stakes.

I think it is very easy to start panicking now about the worst possible case scenario -- jackbooted military busting into the door to disappear everyone who ever said something mean about Trump or bought a banned book or something -- and let fear turn into inaction.

I'm not saying things can't get that bad, and I'm not saying that it won't be absolutely terrifying right out the gate for some particularly at-risk groups -- but the distance between "now" and "V for Vendetta" is long and filled with a lot of intermediary steps. There will be so many opportunities to prevent the worst case scenario.

I say this because, if your mental image of "Bad Things Happening" is The Purge, it will be easy to wake up on inauguration day, look outside to see that the world is not on fire, think, hey, maybe things will be okay after all, and then completely disengage. Alternatively, you might feel so frozen with terror at the possibility of persecution that you do nothing. This is why people are saying: don't obey in advance.

It is essential for those of us with more privilege to use it to take care of those who are more vulnerable.

So. Who is most vulnerable? What does that vulnerability actually mean? What are the most likely risks of Trump's presidency? Here's a Guardian article that I think does a good job of summarizing some of the main issues. Go read that, then come back here.

Step Two: Take steps to protect yourself

You've gotta put your oxygen mask on first, right? So before you start getting involved in other causes, figure out what risks YOU are at, immediately, and do as much as you can to secure yourself. Some potential action steps depending on your circumstance may include:

Renewing your passport (helpful for leaving the country, but also for gender/name change purposes)

Getting vaccines / boosters

Securing birth control

Ensuring your necessary papers (birth certificates etc.) are where you have access to them.

Drawing up legal paperwork for spouses/partners (always a good idea, a helpful safety measure in case you lose marriage rights)

Bolstering your data privacy and online security. Here's a step-by-step guide I found that could help with that.

The specific steps you need to take here depend on what risks you, personally, face. You'll want to do some more research into this for your particular scenario.

No matter who you are, though, it's probably a good idea to start saving money and being a little more conservative with your spending and/or pay down debts to free up some cash. You don't know what kind of emergency may befall you, and having spare money for an emergency is never a bad idea.

There is a possibility that the cost of many things you rely on might go up, if Trump goes through with his tariffs plan. You will want to plan for that.

Food costs may also rise due to tariffs (we import a lot of food from Mexico and Latin America for example) as well as a loss of immigrant labor. There is also a possibility that food safety standards could fall due to overturning regulations. Now would be a good time to look into local food resources like farm share/CSA, community farms, etc., and to stock up on a few key staples like rice and beans.

Okay. Now that YOU are reasonably safe...what can you do to protect your community?

Step Three: Get Involved

Here is your mission: You need to stay engaged enough to know what's going on, without burning yourself out or exhausting yourself, and to take actual decisive actions instead of wasting your energy arguing on the internet.

Got that? Okay. Good. Here are some action steps:

Support independent journalism. Subscribe to local papers, donate to and watch public broadcast programming. I signed up for news from ProPublica, for example, as well as the news-roundup service What The Fuck Just Happened Today. The goal is to stay informed without falling down an endless rabbit hole of upsetting information.

Share news and resources with others in your circle. This can be a good use of social media. It's what I am doing right now!

If it is safe for you to do so, challenge and educate your friends/family members/neighbors/coworkers. Only if it is safe for you to do so. Do not put yourself at risk doing this. And do not waste your time arguing with people who are unlikely to change. But if you have well-meaning people in your life who you think could be won over, look for opportunities to do this - the right way. I've had some success with this, I will probably write a guide about it in the future. In the meantime, here's a good article that can help.

Join local grassroots activism groups. You'll have to do some work to decide what groups to join and which causes you want to support, because you cannot do everything. But there are tons of organizations taking direct action in all kinds of causes. Search "grassroots [cause] activists in [where you live]" to start finding things. Once you get involved in one group, you might meet people who can introduce you to other groups and causes. Yes, this means you will have to go outside and meet people. I'm sorry.

Join direct action groups. Same concept as above. You'll have to search in your area but once you know people it'll be easier to find more opportunities. Some of these groups may overlap. You might find direct action opportunities by engaging politically and vice versa. GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THINGS TO HELP.

Get involved in local politics. Here are some quick tips. A lot of things are affected at the city level - stuff like book bans and bathroom bills are often battled first at local libraries and schools, and you can be part of those conversations! Sheriffs are elected and can have a big influence on local policing. Local elections affect how tax dollars are spent, how homeless populations are treated, and lots more. Don't snooze on local elections. Get involved and stay involved.

Look up your representatives. Get in the habit of calling, emailing, and writing letters. Figure out what legislature is being passed and then call your reps and harangue them about it - both to support bills you approve of and shoot down ones you don't. Sign petitions. Join email campaigns. Here's one you can go sign right now from the ACLU. See? Not that scary.

I think a lot of people figure that getting involved in politics doesn't matter or that it's all small potatoes but...man. The president is not god, no matter what he thinks. The sitting administration is not the sole power in the universe. There is an entire machine of government we can lean upon and act upon.

Finally, some general safety notes:

Some forms of direct action are not legal. Take steps to be safe if you choose to partake. Follow the lead of more seasoned activists for what forms of communication to use and so forth.

If you're not willing or able to put yourself at legal risk to act, you can help others by donating to bail funds and legal defense funds.

We've already seen this in some areas, and it will only get uglier - some bad actors are feeling emboldened by the change in regime and will misbehave. It's a good idea to learn some self-defense skills, in whatever way is comfortable to you, and brush up on some tenets of victimology that can help you stay safe. I'll write more about that in the future.

All right. That's all for now. It's by no means comprehensive...but should hopefully help you get started taking the next step. Stay safe out there.

#uspol #politics #direct action #grassroots activism #get involved #election 2024 #us politics #us elections

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doumadono · 6 months ago

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[Sinful Sunday] I loved how you write Wriothesley, so I was wondering if you could write something with him and the reader spending time together after hours?

Warnings: smut with plot, rough smut, pussy fingering, cunnilingus, semi-public, creampie, fem!reader, established relationship, possessive Wrio, Neuvilette being Neuvilette ^^

A/N: this request got the most votes during the second Sinful Sunday poll I held. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY GENSHIN IMPACT

You had met Wriothesley on a day like any other. The fortress was bustling with activity, guards patrolling, prisoners shuffling through their routines, and you, an administrator tasked with managing the endless paperwork that came with overseeing such a complex institution. Wriothesley, the Duke of Meropide, had always been a figure of authority and mystery, his presence commanding respect and admiration. His icy demeanor was formidable, yet there was a warmth that lurked beneath the surface, a warmth you had been fortunate enough to uncover.

It had started innocently enough.

The fortress was not a place for personal connections, after all. But there was something about the way his eyes lingered on you, the way your breath caught whenever he was near.

Late nights in the office, poring over documents and case files, had led to shared cups of tea and quiet conversations. Wriothesley’s wit and intelligence had drawn you in, and before long, the lines between professional and personal had begun to blur. Tall, imposing, with piercing blue eyes and a demeanor as cold as the Cryo Vision he wielded, Wriothesley was a figure of both admiration and intimidation. Many women in the fortress — and beyond — would have given anything for a chance to be close to him, to break through the icy exterior and find the man beneath.

It was during one such evening, months ago, that the tension had finally snapped.

You had been in the middle of reviewing a particularly convoluted case file when Wriothesley appeared in your office doorway.

He stood there, his presence commanding even in the subdued light, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Working late again?" he asked, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from him. "There's just so much to do. These new cases —"

"Can wait," he interrupted, stepping into the room. "You've been pushing yourself too hard lately."

He moved closer, his gaze never wavering, and you felt a flutter of nervous anticipation. Wriothesley had always been distant, maintaining a strict professionalism that left little room for personal interaction. Yet tonight, there was something different in his eyes, something that hinted at a deeper, more complex emotion. "You should take a break," he repeated, his voice softer now, almost gentle.

You managed a small smile, though your pulse quickened at his proximity. "Easier said than done."

He was close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the subtle scent of his cologne wrapping around you. The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken tension.

"Wriothesley," you began, unsure of what you were about to say, but he silenced you with a look.

"Do you ever stop to think about yourself?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "You're always taking care of everyone else, always working. When was the last time you did something for you?"

His words struck a chord, and you realized how little you had allowed yourself to relax, to simply be. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words died in your throat as he reached out, his rough hand cupping your cheek. "You deserve more," he whispered, his thumb brushing gently over your skin.

The touch was electric.

Without thinking, you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your lips met in a kiss that was both unexpected and utterly consuming. It was a kiss filled with months of pent-up desire, a kiss that spoke of all the things you had left unsaid.

He lifted you effortlessly, setting you on the edge of your desk, his body pressing against yours. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent, more desperate. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

"Wriothesley," you gasped when he finally broke the kiss, his lips trailing down the column of your neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses in their wake.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and teasing. "Tell me you don't want this."

But you couldn't. You didn't want him to stop. You wanted more — needed more. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair, pulling him closer, your body arching against his in a silent plea.

"Don't stop," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "Please, don’t stop."

And this is how the affair began.

The moon hung high over the vast expanse of Fontaine, casting its silvery light over the pristine streets and ancient structures of the city.

The dim, ethereal glow of the moonlight filtered through the frost-laden windows of the Fortress of Meropide, casting long shadows that danced and shifted across the cold stone floors. The fortress, cold and imposing by day, seemed almost intimate under the moon’s silver glow.

The evening was quiet, save for the occasional distant clanking of chains or the muffled murmurs of guards on patrol. Deep within the labyrinthine corridors of the Meropide Fortress, the air was thick with an intensity that was palpable, even in the dead of night. This fortress, both a prison and a sanctuary, hummed with the quiet activities of its inhabitants. Among them, two souls found solace in the shadows, bound by a secret that thrummed like a heartbeat.

It wasn’t an unusual hour for some people to be working, but then again, the fortress itself was an unusual place.

Wriothesley sat at his desk, the flickering light of the lantern illuminating his rugged features. His eyes, sharp and intense, scanned over the documents spread out before him. The Duke of Meropide was a man of duty and resolve, his dedication to maintaining order within the prison unyielding. Yet tonight, his thoughts were not solely on the responsibilities that weighed heavily on his shoulders.

You sat across the room, engrossed in your own work.

The reason for the extended hours was legitimate enough — a particularly troublesome inmate required constant monitoring, and both of you had taken it upon yourselves to ensure the situation remained under control. No one questioned why you, an administrator with a keen eye for detail, would stay late into the night. And no one questioned why Wriothesley himself would remain long after most had retired to their quarters.

It had been months since the two of you first met.

As the clock ticked past midnight, you pushed back from your desk and stretched, the movement drawing Wriothesley's attention. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze dark and smoldering as it roamed over you. "Tired?" he asked, his voice oh so low.

"A little," you admitted, getting up from your desk, and crossing the room to stand before him. "But I don't mind. It's nice to have some quiet time to get things done."

“Need a break?” Wriothesley asked, his voice nothing but a soft rumble.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “I think we both do.”

With a swift movement, his hand reached out, capturing your wrist and pulling you gently towards him, and onto his lap, his arms encircling your waist. The heat of his body against yours was intoxicating, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver of anticipation that ran through you. Wriothesley’s hands roamed over your back, his touch firm and possessive. He tilted your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

"We shouldn't..." you began, but your words trailed off as his lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, pressing a kiss that made you melt against him.

"We should," he countered, his voice a husky whisper against your skin. “I can’t help it. I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

His hands roamed over your body, deftly unfastening the buttons of your crisp white shirt. With a practiced touch, he pushed the fabric off your shoulders, revealing your soft skin to his hungry eyes. You could feel the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes filled with desire as he cupped your breasts, still cradled in your lacy white bra, fondling them with his rough, impatient hands.

"I missed you too," you chuckled softly, your fingers weaving through his dark locks as you drew him nearer. "But we've spent the whole day together already," you pointed out.

A wry grin crept across his lips. "True, but I couldn't touch you the way I wanted."

The kiss that followed was anything but gentle. It was a desperate, hungry clash of lips and tongues, a collision of need and longing that had been building for hours.

You rose from his lap, hoisting the hems of your skirt up to provide yourself with more comfortable movements. Then, slowly, deliberately, you straddled his lap, your movements purposeful as you seated yourself comfortably. You ground your clothed pussy against the growing bulge in his pants.

"Fuuuuck," he growled, his voice low and guttural. His hands slid further under your skirt, finding the bare skin of your thighs and gripping them possessively.

With a deft movement, he lifted you onto the desk, the documents scattering to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment. His mouth never left yours as he positioned himself between your legs, dry humping against your pussy, his hands pulling you closer, anchoring you to him as his mouth trailed open mouthed kisses up your exposed neck.

You could feel his dick hardening within his dark gray pants, hard and insistent against you. "Wrio," you gasped, your head falling back as his lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

He silenced you with another kiss, his mouth trailing down your neck soon after, leaving a trail of burning kisses in its wake. His hands found the clasp of your bra, deftly undoing it and slipping the stripes down your shoulders, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Someone might hear..."

"Let them," he growled, his voice a mixture of command and need. "I don't fucking care."

His hands were everywhere, caressing, teasing, igniting fires wherever they touched. You arched against him, your body aching for more, for everything.

Wriothesley leaned in, his eager mouth enveloping one of your hardened nipples, drawing it into the heat of his mouth.

The sensation made you instinctively arch your back, a loud moan escaping your lips. “Oh, for the glory of Hydro Archon! Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you begged.

His tongue flicked around your hardened bud, sending jolts of pleasure through your body as he sucked on it hungrily. Meanwhile, his free hand fondled your other breast, teasing and caressing it with skilled precision. At the same time, his other hand, unoccupied but not idle, pushed against your left knee, urging you to part your legs wider for him.

You complied eagerly, granting him the access he craved.

As you spread your legs wider, he pressed the heel of his rough hand against your clothed pussy, rubbing you through your panties. The Duke pressed the heel of his rough hand against your clothed pussy, rubbing you through your panties. To his delight, he discovered a damp spot forming in the middle of the fabric, a clear indication of your heightened arousal. “Look at you, little one,” he mused, "You're already so wet for me. Mmmm, I can already smell your sweet scent. Look at what you're doing to me, Y/N," he exclaimed, gesturing toward his tented pants as he released your nipple from his mouth with a loud pop sound.

Finally, Wriothesley took a step back, lowering himself to kneel on the cool marble floor between your legs. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wider as he settled himself between them, his broad shoulders keeping your legs firmly in place, preventing them from closing. He pushed the material of your panties aside, exposing your pretty pussy to his hungry eyes, your folds glistening with arousal. Leaning in, he inhaled your scent deeply, like a predator savoring its prey, and let out a low growl. "Mmmmm, fuuuuck, that's what I've been craving all day long."

With a slow, deliberate motion, he leaned in and pressed his mouth against your glistening folds. His tongue darted out, and Wriothesley began with a teasing flick of his tongue, running it lightly along your folds, just enough to make you shiver with anticipation. He lingered at your entrance, tracing slow, deliberate circles around it with the tip of his tongue, savoring the way your body responded to his touch. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he delved deeper, his tongue pressing against your clit in a firm, tantalizing stroke.

He alternated between long, languid licks and quick, teasing flicks, his mouth exploring every inch of your cunny with a hunger that left you breathless. He sucked gently on your clit, rolling it between his lips, then released it with a soft pop, only to dive back in, his tongue moving with an expert precision that had you writhing beneath him.

As his mouth worked its magic, his fingers joined in the fray, sliding one, then two digits inside you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot that made stars burst behind your closed eyelids. He pumped his fingers in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue, his movements growing more urgent as he felt you tightening around him.

"You taste so good," he murmured between licks, his voice thick with desire. "I could do this all night."

He sucked harder on your clit, his tongue lapping at you with increasing fervor. He nipped at your folds, the slight edge of pain only heightening your pleasure, making you gasp and arch your back as you lay your upper body flat on his desk. His growls of satisfaction sent vibrations through your core, adding to the mounting pleasure building inside you.

Your hands clung to him, fingers tangling in his hair as you rode the waves of sensation. He seemed to know exactly what you needed, adjusting his pace and pressure, his tongue darting and swirling with a skill that left you trembling.

Wriothesley reveled in the power he had over you, the way your body responded so eagerly to his touch.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub as he applied just the right amount of pressure.

You moaned loudly, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to continue as you slowly ground your pussy against his face, even though your legs were shaking at the moment as pleasure became unbearable.

His hands roamed up your body, one of them moving up your body to knead your breast while the other stayed firm on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him. He moved his tongue lower, dipping it into your entrance, tasting you deeply before returning to your clit. “My mother taught me to always finish my goddamn food, so forgive me, doll, but respectfully I don’t give a shit if your legs are shaking. And don’t try to crawl away.”

You could feel the tension building within you, the coil tightening with every flick of his tongue, every suck, every nip, every thrust of his fingers.

Wriothesley's fingers moved with relentless intensity, plunging in and out of your drenched pussy, each thrust creating wet, lewd sounds that echoed throughout the room. His mouth was equally fervent, his tongue lapping at your folds, his hums of satisfaction blending with the obscene noises. The combination of his skilled fingers and eager tongue drove you wild.

When you finally came, it was with a cry of his name, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you.

He didn't stop, his tongue continuing its relentless assault, drawing out your orgasm until you were left breathless and spent. Only then he looked up at you after, his lips glistening with your arousal, a satisfied smirk on his face. "That's my good, good girl," he praised.

Finally, after he had drunk in every last drop of your cum, Wriothesley moved up, his mouth leaving your throbbing core.

He stood and began unbuttoning his dark shirt, revealing the hard lines of his muscular chest and well-defined abs. His fingers moved deftly to his leather belt, unbuckling it and then opening his fly with deliberate slowness. He pushed his uniform pants low enough to free his rock-hard cock, which twitched at the sight of your messy, disheveled state laid out before him.

Taking hold of his cock, he stroked it slowly a few times, making sure to coat it with your wetness that was previously coating his fingers, spreading the slickness from the tip to the base of his throbbing member.

The sight of it only made you more desperate for him.

"Look at you," he murmured, his voice a rough whisper filled with desire. "So ready for me." He positioned himself between your legs, his eyes dark with desire.

He pulled you by your legs, positioning you at the edge of the desk, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. His hands gripped your hips, his touch firm and possessive as he lined himself with you.

You could feel the hard head of his cock, sticky with precum, pressing against your entrance, a promise of what was to come.

With one swift, powerful motion, he entered you, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that left you gasping for breath. He set a steady, intense rhythm, his hips driving into you with a force that made your whole body shudder.

Wriothesley's grip on your hips was firm, his eyes locked onto yours as he fucked you, the connection between you deep and primal. The wet sounds, the slap of skin against skin, and his low, guttural moans filled the room, a symphony of raw, unrestrained passion. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body responding eagerly to his, the pleasure building until it was almost too much to bear.

"You're mine," he growled, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Only mine."

"Yes," you moaned, your fingers digging into his broad shoulders. "Only yours, Wrio!"

He moved faster, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding, driving you to the brink of madness. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix with each of his thrusts.

You cried out his name, your body trembling with the force of your pleasure, your mind lost in a haze of sensation.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your ear. “So perfect for me.”

“Wrio,” you gasped, your voice a plea and a promise. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your bodies moving in perfect harmony.

The world outside ceased to exist; it was just you and him, lost in a moment of pure ecstasy.

He thrust harder, his movements becoming frantic, his need for you overwhelming. “My little cockslut. My personal fucking whore,” he snarled through clenched teeth. A bead of sweat formed on his temple and rolled down his perfectly shaped cheek.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you matched his thrusts, lifting and lowering your hips, moaning like a bitch in heat.

Wriothesley was the first to reach his peak, his thrusts growing more urgent and sloppy as he neared his release. With a deep, guttural growl, he spilled his thick seed deep inside you, the hot flood filling you completely. His body shuddered with the force of his climax, his grip on your hips tightening as he emptied himself into you. “Oh, fuuuuuuck yeah, fuck yeah,” the dark-haired man growled, gently spanking your clit with his hand a few times.

The sensation of his cum filling you and his continuous assault on your pussy pushed you over the edge. You came moments later, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around his dick, massaging his shaft as if trying to milk it dry of every last drop of his precious cum. The intensity of your orgasm made you cry out, your body trembling and your nails digging into his shoulders as waves of pleasure crashed over you. The rhythmic contractions of your pussy around his cock sent aftershocks through both of you, prolonging the ecstasy of the moment.

He held you close, his breath ragged, his body covered in sweat.

For a moment, you stayed like that, his cock still buried in your hot, drenched pussy.

Then, slowly, he pulled away, a grin spreading across his lips as he marveled at how his cum dripped out of you, forming a small puddle on the floor right under his desk. "Perfect," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You’re absolutely fucking perfect. Fuck. I'll never get enough of this," he murmured, running a hand through his messy bangs in an attempt to make himself presentable again.

He wiped his cock with a paper towel he pulled from his desk drawer, then adjusted his trousers and buttoned his shirt, leaving the last three buttons open to cool down himself faster.

Suddenly, you both heard footsteps approaching, growing louder with each step.

Panic set in as you jumped off the desk, hastily helping Wriothesley gather the scattered documents. You quickly began buttoning your shirt, realizing too late that your bra was missing. Glancing at Wriothesley, you saw it in his hands. He gave you a mischievous look and tucked your bra into his pants pocket, flashing you a devilish grin. “You need to work for it.”

"You're unbelievable, you bastard," you whispered, shaking your head as you hurriedly pulled your skirt back into place and adjusted your panties.

Just as you managed to sit back at your desk, there was a brief knock to the door.

Before Wriothesley could respond, the door opened to reveal none other than Neuvillette, the Iudex of Fontaine himself. He gave you a polite nod, which you returned with a slight bow, struggling to maintain a composed expression. Your thoughts were consumed by the cold, damp sensation of your panties, soaked with both your juices and Wriothesley's cum.

"Good evening," Neuvillette said, his voice formal and detached.

Wriothesley, ever the picture of composed authority, straightened up and addressed Neuvillette, his demeanor cool and collected. "What brings you here at this hour?"

Neuvillette's eyes scanned the room before settling on Wriothesley. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important," he said, his tone as formal as ever.

"Not at all," Wriothesley replied smoothly, straightening up as he slowly improved his shirt, giving you a look. "We were just wrapping up some paperwork."

Neuvillette's gaze lingered on Wriothesley for a moment longer than necessary, a hint of suspicion flickering in his eyes. "I see," he replied, his tone still formal but with a subtle edge to it.

You felt a flush creeping up your neck as you tried to compose yourself, your heart hammering in your chest. You were certain Neuvillette could sense something was off, but to your relief, he didn't comment on your flushed cheeks or the way your breaths came out in uneven puffs.

"Very well," Neuvillette said finally, breaking the tension with a polite smile. "I won't keep you any longer. I brought some documents for you to go through. I trust everything is under control here?"

Wriothesley nodded, his own smile strained. "Of course, everything is in order."

With a final nod, Neuvillette took his leave, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, the tension draining from your body as you exchanged a relieved glance with Wriothesley. "That was close," you murmured, grateful for the near-miss.

Wriothesley chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Too close for comfort. We'll have to be more careful in the future. Even though I wouldn’t mind having an audience.”

You shook your head in disbelief. This man had some nerves! Then, you returned to your work, knowing that come morning, you would return to your roles, to the pretense of professionalism. But for now, in the quiet sanctuary of his office, you were his, and he was yours, if only for a fleeting, precious moment, away from prying eyes and probing questions.

tags: @crystalwolfblog @shonen-brainrot @mun-in-rain

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oldmannapping · 1 year ago

Text

Directly riffing off this post, my brain wouldn’t stop. The idea of Jason furiously becoming a superstar HR manager for his goons gives me such pure joy.

The Adventures of Jason Todd And His Goons

Jason: “Shut the FUCK UP. What do you mean you’ve never had dental cover? This is fucking bullshit. Get me the paperwork right now, do I have to do everything my fucking self? God. You have three kids, right? Of course they’re going on your fucking plan, what do you think this is?”

Jason: “You guys want fucking CAKE on your birthdays? Are you shitting me right now? Are you fucking looking me in the eye and asking for cake on your birthday? You’re not fucking WORKING on your birthday, dumbshit, that’s a paid day off. Buy your own damn cake, eat it with your family, Jesus Christ.”

Jason: “Is that a dog? Did you bring a fucking dog in here? What the everloving pissfuck. Who decided to have a bring your pet to work day and not tell me so I could have treats ready for the very good boy, yes you are, you’re a very good boy. See now I feel like an asshole, I don’t have a treat for you, and you’re such a beautiful doggy yes you are, yes you are. I’m only gonna say this once: EVERY day is now bring your pet to work day. EVERY DAMN DAY.”

Jason: “Did someone set up a crib over there? Is that a crib in my warehouse next to the fridge where we keep our severed heads and leftover bean casseroles? Steve! STEVE! Show the new guy where the daycare room is. Jesus Christ. It’s like I didn’t spend four days last winter teaching you fucks about how to induct the new guys.”

Jason: “Someone signed us up to have a FLOAT IN THE PRIDE PARADE? I’ve been voted a fucking EMPLOYER OF CHOICE??? Fuck. The bar is so low, man. I just treat people with basic human fucking respect… Shouldn’t get a fucking award for that. And who the hell signed us up for this with only two weeks’ notice, how the fuck am I meant to make a custom rainbow helmet in two weeks? You think this shit’s gonna bedazzle itself? There better be a hot glue gun in my hand in the next three minutes or I swear to god I’m cancelling paintball this week.”

#jason todd #red hood #batfamily headcanons #red hood headcanon #Jason Todd is a good boss #red hood and his goons #red hood is an ally #Gotham pride parade

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flemingsfreckles · 7 months ago

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Physio’s Daughter pt.5

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read the previous parts HERE

Warnings: cursing

WC: 4.0k

A/N: hi :) enjoy (if you’re reading this the same day it was posted and want to help make a decision on the future of this story go vote on the poll on my feed)

The players ended up with way more downtime than the staff during the week before you all left for Paris they were really only responsible for keeping their bodies ready to play and showing up to get on the plane. You and the rest of the staff had meetings, more paperwork, you all had to pack your equipment away, it took more hours of your time than you had expected.

This meant you had to turn down Jessie on three different occasions when she asked you to coffee.

The first time Jessie shook off the rejection. Not thinking much about it, you were obviously busy with work and didn’t have the time that day.

“I’m wrapping up here. Want to grab a coffee this afternoon?” She stuck her head into your office.

“I would Jessie but I’m not out of here until 5 tonight. Plus should we be grabbing coffee?” You give her a questioning look. You had agreed to friends now, friends grabbed coffee but it felt like a gateway to something more with her.

“Oh, okay, sorry I didn’t realize you had to work so late.”

She shook you off, walking back over to her locker to grab her stuff and leave for the day, having to stop alone for coffee.

She didn’t stop asking, one thing about that girl, she loved to stop by your office and she also loved to get coffee.

“Coffee? Do you have a lunch break at some point?” Jessie’s head once again swung around your office door early in the morning when players were released for a couple hours break before having to return in the evening for film.

You sigh throwing your hands up, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you “I’m supposed to get a lunch but I think I have more travel paperwork to do during that time, I don’t know Kelly from the administration called and-”

“Don’t worry about it.” You notice the tight lipped half smile she gives you. You so badly wanted to say fuck it to the paperwork and go get coffee with Jessie, you’d get coffee with that woman every second of every day if you could. But you had work. You were at work and she was your coworker.

Insistent on getting you to say yes, Jessie offers another plan. “What about tomorrow morning since it’s a later start? Before we come in?”

“Tomorrow I have to be here at normal times, it’s just you guys who get to come in late.” You give her a frown.

“Look if you don’t want to come to coffee with me, that’s okay, just say that though.” Her voice is quiet but she looks frustrated with you. Her eyebrows furrowed, upset lines on her forehead.

“No! Jessie, I do! I do want to get coffee with you, just, this isn’t a great week. I’ve still got a ton of work to get done before we leave. As the newbie on the staff I get all the simple but time consuming work no one else wants. Unfortunately the next few weeks will be just as crazy for both of us.”

“Okay.” She turns to leave “I’m sorry for bothering you.” Before you can really stop her to explain that she’s not a bother and honestly the short chats you get with her are the highlight of your day, she exits the door. And you're left alone in your office, a massive pile of paperwork to still get done.

With only two days left before you had to fly to Paris you were trying to get most of your work done today. You didn’t want to have to deal with work and the stress of packing tomorrow. You curse yourself for not packing sooner. You end up in the office until it’s dark outside checking your watch and seeing it was 7:30 at night. Your mom had left the office two hours ago, giving you a kiss on the head and telling you not to stay up too late.

You focus in, getting tunnel vision on the paperwork, racing through the stack of papers, until your phone goes off.

Jessie Fleming: what time do you have to be in tomorrow?

A text from Jessie has your phone vibrating in your lap. You pick it up and respond, wondering why she would need to know.

You: 5:30

You: Do you need treatment? Is your calf alright?

Jessie Fleming: So the facility will be open at 5:30? Calf is fine but I’m trying to get in some extra recovery and stretching, feeling a bit tight after today's work.

You: Yeah it should be, for all I know I might still be here when you show up.

Jessie Fleming: You’re still there?

You: I am

You: sent an image

You send Jessie a selfie of you, smiling in your desk chair, a significantly smaller stack of papers than she saw you with earlier in the day.

Jessie Fleming: sent an image

The image is her, in what you assumed was her Canadian apartment bed, a soft smile on her face, her head resting on a pillow with light gray cover on it. What also stands out to you is the way her sheet is pulled up, just under her collarbones. You can see her collarbones, she wasn’t wearing a shirt.

You: Why are you in bed this early?

You: Do you sleep shirtless?

You regret hitting send on the second message when you actually see that she’s typing.

Jessie Fleming: That’s professional to ask

Jessie Fleming: But yes

Jessie Fleming: Most of the time

Jessie Fleming: Obviously not when I have travel roommates or anything, but I’m in my own place for the next few days so I’m enjoying it before a lot of hotels with Janine.

Jessie Fleming: And I’m in bed because I’m watching a documentary and I’ve been told to get as much sleep as I can by the training staff at work.

Jessie Fleming: Especially this new young girl, she has been on my case about taking care of myself and whatever, but she’s cute so I gave her a pass.

The mention of Janine has your mind thinking back to the other day, Janine grabbing Jessie and whispering to her before she gave you a look that felt like she suddenly knew everything. You wanted to ask Jessie about it but now probably wasn’t the best time.

You: I sleep like that too, more comfortable

You: I’m sure that girl is just looking out for you.

Jessie Fleming: I know, right? I tried to tell that to so many of my teammates, none of them listen.

Jessie Fleming: stop texting me, go back to work so you can go home.

You: you’re the one texting me

Jessie Fleming: shhhhh

You: 🙄

You put your phone away, putting it on silent so there was no temptation to text Jessie, having no idea if she had responded. You finish your paperwork, finally standing up your back and knees both cracking as you stretch. You check you phone as you walk to the car, seeing it was 8:22. You’d have to go home, get dinner, shower, all to get up at 4:30 to be at work by 5:30.

A message from Jessie sits on your screen. You debate texting her back but you don’t want to wake her if she’s already gone to sleep.

Jessie Fleming: Have a good night, hope you’re not at work too late :)

When you sit back at your desk the next morning you feel deja vu, feeling like you never left. The only difference is there is no longer a pile of work in front of you, you thank yourself for staying to complete it all last night. You lean forward letting your head rest on your desk for a moment.

“Hi!” Jessie comes around the corner of your office, sounding way too chipper for 5:30 in the morning, but then again she was able to be in bed at 7:30. You look up to her to see her carrying two coffees. She approaches you and sticks her hand out offering you one of the drinks. You were so grateful, you had opted for 5 minutes of extra sleep in the morning instead of getting a coffee and you were starting to regret that decision.

“Should you really be showing up to my office with coffee? You do remember what happened last time you did that, right?” You question her, squinting at her across your desk and sending a glance to the wall where she had pinned you.

“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it, maybe I liked what happened last time.” She pauses, tilting her head, thinking back to the memory. “Except not when your Mom walked in, I didn’t like that, that was terrifying.” A quick grimace follows by a smile comes across her face.

“Jessie, we can’t.”

“I know, I know.” She sounds defeated. “I just figured since going out for coffee doesn’t really fit into your schedule right now, I’d just bring it to you. I promise I’m not trying to get anything out of you.” She sits down in the seat across from you.

“How late were you here last night?” Jessie’s phone buzzes on the table, she ignores it.

“Just before 9.”

“Oh wow, I was asleep by then.” You envy her early bedtime.

“Yeah so I am incredibly grateful for this, thank you.” You shake your coffee cup as her phone lights up with another notification. This time your eyes trail to it. You’re not trying to look at her messages but you just can’t help but glance at the lit up screen.

Jessie noticed your eyes' quick movement toward her phone, “Sorry that’s just Janine, I told her I was coming in to do some early recovery and she’s giving me a hard time about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s just teasing me.” She pauses, “about you.” She uses her coffee cup in her hand to point at you.

“Oh, did you tell her? She gave me a weird look the other day, after you came back and we hugged in the training room, you two walked out together and she sort of stared at me. So did you tell her? About the kiss I mean?” Finally getting an appropriate time to ask what was up with Janine’s look.

“It may have slipped out, one of the times I was talking about you. But she’s been teasing me about you since before that.” Jessie looks down to type back to Janine on her phone.

“Jessie!” Her head snapped back up when she heard you scolding her name. Knowing someone else knows about your kiss, someone you didn’t yet know well enough, makes you uneasy. “You can’t just be telling people that!”

“It’s Janine, she’s my best friend, she knows me too well, she knew something happened and asked. I didn't think it would be a big deal, she’s not going to tell anyone.” Jessie defends herself.

“I get that you think that Jessie, but if she slips up, next thing the whole team knows, then it gets out, you’ll get in trouble for sleeping with the student trainer, who’s 4 years younger than you.” You were spiraling, you’re not sure if you believe what you’re saying or if your mom had just scared you into it. You didn’t want your own career to be at risk and you definitely didn’t want Jessie getting in trouble.

“We haven’t slept together, plus you’re an adult, it’s not like I’m 20 and you’re 16! We’re both grown.”

“I know that, but good luck telling that to anyone else, they won’t listen!”

“I really didn’t mean to tell her, it just sort of slipped out and I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be an issue.” Jessie crosses her arms across her chest, she feels less warm than usual, less friendly, less inviting.

Only, it felt like it was a problem that she had told people. You weren’t sure why Jessie would think it was okay to go around telling people about your kiss without at least checking in with you. A small bubble of frustration with the woman sitting across from you started to build.

“Jessie, if people find out I could get fired! Sure, it might temporarily make your image bad but you’re too damn good, you’ll stay Captain, you’ll keep getting your call ups, keep being desired by different clubs, it won’t ruin your career like it could mine.”

“Nothing is going to get out, nothings going to happen, it’s not that big of a deal!” Now Jessie is raising her voice at you slightly. She’s leaning across your desk.

“Maybe it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal that to you, but it is to me.” You yell back, thankful that no one else was in at the office yet. You take a breath realizing this argument was not something you needed to be doing at 5:30 in the morning. “You should probably go do your recovery. I have things to get done” You point to the doorway.

“Oh.” It’s obvious the sadness on Jessie’s face and in her voice. A sudden change from her argumentative demeanor. “Yeah, I’m going to do that.” She pushed back from your desk. “I’m sorry.”

You let her walk out without saying anything. She doesn’t close your office door on her way out. Feeling stupid about the argument, you let your forehead come crashing back onto your desk with a loud thud, a lot harder than you intended.

“You okay?” You hear Jessie ask, hearing the sound of your head against your desk from the other room.

“Yeah, all good.” You groan back. You didn’t want her to care and feel the need to check on you. You know you shouldn’t care about he either but you can��t help yourself.

Despite being quite annoyed with Jessie at the moment, you’re unable to look away every time she passes by your door, doing exercises or walking across the room to get equipment. Time goes on and then you hear her digging in the ice cooler, the sound of a plastic bag and some shuffling around.

“Stupid wrap.” Hearing her talking to herself you stand up from your chair, it was your job after all to help with these things. You see her struggling to hold and secure a bag of ice she had made to her calf.

“Let me help you.” You offer empty hands to take the ice bag from her, grabbing the wrap and squatting in front of her to help her get it tight on her leg.

“Thanks.” She gives you a smile, the way she was grinning looking down at you sent a shiver through your body.

“Is it still treating you okay?” You look up at her from where you’re kneeling in front of her.

“Yeah it’s been good, just being overly cautious with it still, that’s why I’m doing all this.” She points down where your hands were wrapping the ice bag. You just nod, returning your focus to what you were doing instead of staring up at the girl’s pretty brown eyes.

You let the silence sit between the two of you for only a second before you break it.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted in the office just now. I think I’m just a little paranoid, we’re adults, we’re allowed to do what we’re doing technically. I just didn’t think you’d be going around talking about me and the fact that you kissed me.” You stand up.

“To be fair, I’m not going around talking about you to everyone, it’s really just been to Janine, she made some comments about you before we had even really talked much, she knows me too well. She knew I was interested, so she made some comments about me finding you pretty to which I blushed and she was onto me right away apparently I’m not great at hiding my crushes.” She looks down at her feet.

“I just freaked out, knowing that someone else knows that you had me against the wall, in my office.”

“If it helps, she doesn’t know I pinned you to the wall.” Jessie’s face is now a bright red. It’s suddenly very obvious to you how close the two of you we’re standing, face to face. It’s apparent that you can make out all the little details of her face, where each freckle sat across her nose and cheeks, you could see it all. Despite still being upset and frustrated with Jessie for telling Janine about your previous kiss, you suddenly don’t care and have the desire to kiss her all over again.

“Jessie.” You stare at her lips while saying her name. You don’t know if she noticed you’re staring, but her tongue runs over her bottom lip, wetting it.

“What?”

“Don’t, what, me. You know what.” Your eyes don’t move from Jessie’s lips.

“No I don’t. You’ll have to enlighten me.” You do, leaning in your hands finding her face you pull her toward you. Your lips meet hers, they’re warm and soft and plump against yours. Her hands find your hips, pulling you against her hard. Her grip is tight, it feels safe. This time you’re able to finish your kiss, both of you pulling away just before you debate sliding your tongue against her lips.

“You really should stop bringing coffee to my office I guess, it always seems to end like this.” You let out once you both breathe for a second. Jessie lets out a soft laugh.

You hear the door to the training room open and you jump away from Jessie, turning to pretend to organize something, finding nothing, everything already being packed up. This leaves you just standing there looking at the wall. You and Jessie both look over to see Janine standing there, coffee in one hand, training bag in the other and a smirk across her face.

“Well you two aren’t suspicious at all.” She says sarcastically as she walks from the doorway further into the training room and in your direction. “I’d recommend actually doing something to make it look like you two weren’t just doing what I think you were.” You can’t read her tone as she speaks to you. “Looking at imaginary things on the wall doesn’t really work as a good cover.” She stops behind you to speak softly only to you. You stay facing the wall, not wanting to turn and let either of the players in the room see how bright red your cheeks are.

“I’m going to go change, I’ll be back in probably 5 minutes, behave yourselves.” Janine says to both of you, she walks away into the changing room.

“Whoops.” You turn back to look at Jessie who is still standing where you kissed her. You both have matching blushes on your face.

“At least it wasn’t my mom this time.” You shrug at her, trying to make light of the situation again.

“I guess,” she shrugs back.

“But seriously Jessie, we can’t keep doing this, we leave for Paris in less than 36 hours. You have to go, be focused, be this team's leader, we can’t, I can’t be distracting you.”

“I know.”

“So that means no more surprise coffees, no more private meetings, like Janine said, we have to behave. Strictly professional from now on. No more of this.” You use a finger to point between the two of you.

“Strictly professional, got it.” She nods at you but her smile tells you she’s not taking you seriously.

“I’m serious this time Jessie.” You try your best to be stern with her.

“So am I.” You were both lying through your teeth, and you both knew it but neither of you were going to call each other out and say anything.

“Or just until the Olympics are over.” You add, hoping she’ll maybe be interested in whatever the two of you were doing come the end of the games.

“Until it's over.” She flashes you a smile before turning to leave, following in the direction Janine went to change. She flashes you a smile before heading through the doors. You move back into your office leaning against the desk.

“Hey.” You jump as Janine flies around the corner of your office door. She walks in closing the door behind you.

“Okay I don’t have a lot of time, but I need to talk to you really quick.”

“What’s up?” You move behind the desk, looking for her file pulling it out. You start to open it and Janine’s hand comes down on it, closing the folder hard.

“This isn’t about me.” She’s staring down at you as you sink back into your chair.

You realized exactly what this was about. “Oh.”

“If you so much as hurt a hair on her head-”

“I won’t.” You interrupt.

“I wasn’t finished.” You nod, letting her finish. “Jessie is a special human and quite frankly she doesn’t need you. She’s perfect on her own, she’s strong and independent and she doesn’t need you, but she wants you, so I’m going to respect that, but please let her focus on this tournament. I don’t know what you two are really doing, she’s been pretty tight lipped, but please. She’s smart but she might not think straight with her crush brain, she might think she can handle starting something with you during this tournament, but she can’t. She needs to be focused. She’d hate herself down the line if she let someone get in her head and mess with her playing. She’s worked her life for these tournaments. This team needs her focused, not distracted because of you.” Janine rants at you.

“I know. We’ve discussed it. I won’t be a distraction to her or to anyone. I promise, I want what’s best for her and the whole team.” You mean it, you want what’s best for the team, and you don’t want to distract Jessie or anyone, you saw how hard they all worked and would hate to be the reason anything went wrong.

“You seem like a good person, and given that Jessie likes you so much, you must be. So I’m going to trust you.” Her hand comes off the file on your desk.

“Janine! Come play Teqball with me!” Jessie hollers through the training room.

“Ahh the queen of Canada awaits.” Janine says, looking at you. She turns to leave, her hand on the doorknob. “Just so you know, I’m serious, don’t hurt her, I’ll make your life miserable.” The way she spoke with still a large smile while telling you she’d ruin your life was slightly terrifying, but very much fitting for her Canadian personality.

“I know.” You just nod. And you did know. It wouldn’t just be Janine coming after you if you messed up with Jessie her entire team would hate you. If you distracted her from the tournament the country of Canada would hate you. You’d never get to work for a Canadian team, you’d never get to live that down. Your nerves build up a bit, even though you had no intentions to hurt Jessie ever, things happen, life happens.

Your spiral of nerves is diminished as you hear Jessie’s laugh carrying through the room. Just her laugh made you smile, your nerves ease. You were in deep, probably in too deep, but there wasn’t anything you could do now, except go to Paris and do your best to just be coworkers with Jessie. You needed to be invisible and not a distraction..

So that’s what you did. Or at least tried to do.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt x reader

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ticklishraspberries · 1 month ago

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Prank War (Derek/Spencer)

Summary: After a prank, Derek decides he's had enough of Spencer's shenanigans. (For the first of @august-anon's weekly Tickletober prompts!! I hope you all enjoy, thanks to everyone who voted for this ship!!)

With such a serious job, it was no wonder that the Behavioral Analysis Unit often found themselves engaging in childlike behavior to lighten the mood around the office.

It was evident in the way Peneleope dug up their old school photos and showed them off to the others, teasing comments ready on their tongues about Emily’s goth fashion. Or, the way Emily could be found braiding JJ’s hair on the jet, or how everyone still whined and pouted when Spencer beat them at various board and card games.

However, Derek and Spencer got up to much more ridiculous things than that. It had started small, with stolen pens and rearranged desks. Then, Derek tied Spencer’s shoelaces together while he was asleep on the jet, resulting in a very ungraceful face-plant. Spencer retaliated by replacing the sugar in the bullpen with salt, which ended up inconveniencing more than just Morgan, which he only felt a little bit bad about.

The tension between the two agents was high, always having a suspicious look on their faces when they were together. Their interactions were laced with mischief, an underlying buzz of anticipation.

Derek quickly got fed up with their little game, because Spencer’s pranks were becoming increasingly irritating, and he refused to admit defeat over salty coffee and stolen belongings. It was so ridiculous, so childish—and yet, he didn’t want to give up, to concede that Reid had won. Fighting dirty seemed like a more appealing option.

No one seemed alarmed when Derek essentially pounced on Spencer one evening, the jet having been otherwise quiet. Spencer had been engrossed in a novel, and let out a startled shriek when he was attacked, and Morgan hadn’t even moved his fingers before Spencer started babbling.

“Wait, wait, Morgan, we can talk about this! I’m sorry!” he cried, trying desperately to push the other man away, but it was no use.

Derek just chuckled, easily dodging Spencer’s flailing limbs. “Oh, it’s way too late for apologies, pretty boy,” he said, hands finding the doctor’s sides and squeezing.

Rossi snorted to himself, Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, but there was a fond smile fighting its way onto his face. Emily gave a fond roll of her eyes, and JJ pulled out her phone, snapping some photos to send to Penelope.

The case they’d been working on had ended happily, as happily as it could have. There had already been a light, positive vibe in the air that evening, and it was easy to fall into silliness. People would probably expect that the worst cases led to them needing to be cheered up, but those things were…Well, the things that they worked with were impossible to “cheer up” from. Those rough cases, those were the ones that left everyone silent, trying to lose themselves in music or books. A hug was sometimes welcome, but laughter…Laughter needed to wait until the dust had settled.

But the case had ended well, and so, Spencer’s high-pitched giggling was a welcome sound.

“Morgan, please,” he gasped. Derek’s fingers had found a sweet spot just at the bottom of his ribs, and he wouldn’t stop tweaking it. “I’ll do whatever you want, please!”

“Hmm…” Derek said. “What if all I want is my revenge?”

Spencer whimpered before dissolving into laughter again as Derek switched to spidering over his belly. “I’ll do all your paperwork for a week!”

“Make it a month.”

“I’ll pretend I’m not hearing this,” Hotch said. The smile had finally broken through his defenses.

Derek chuckled, JJ snapped another photo, and Spencer curled desperately into a ball to escape his touch. With the promise of that month of paperwork, Derek seemed willing to concede. He just had one more requirement for his mercy.

“And, you gotta stop with this prank stuff, alright?” Derek said, giving him a couple quick pokes.

Spencer giggled and batted his hands away. “Yes, yes, alright!”

And with that, he went back to his seat, a smug smile on his face.

Spencer, pink in the face, straightened his tie and fixed his hair, before resuming the book he’d been reading. Conversation resumed as normal, the flight continued without incident.

The ridiculousness had ended, but it would likely return soon. If not in the form of a prank war or tickle fight, it would be a night of karaoke at a bar, or watching baby animal videos on Garcia’s computer. With a job like theirs, the moments of laughter were necessary. It kept them all afloat, alive. They always managed to find some light at the end of the tunnel.

#tickletober #tickletober 2024 #augtickletober2024 #moreid #criminal minds ticklefic #criminal minds tickle fic #moreid fic #moreid fluff #criminal minds #tickle fic #ticklefic #raspberry writes

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tonixe · 10 months ago

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✢ Hot Secretary

A/N: Thank you, guys, for 883 votes, I am so surprised how many votes were cast in the polls. Sorry for the fic taking so long, and also make sure to drink water. <3

WARNING: p in the v, unprotected sex, cheating, oral sex implied, creampie, affairs. [may be deemed as dark content]

PAIRING: President! Coriolanus Snow x secretary! reader

WORD COUNTER: 1.8k

+ TAGS: @wildcatglove13

Working for President Snow wasn't an easy task or job. You had to make sure that the president was on top of his tasks and ran errands for him, after all, he was running a country of Panem. A large population that needed dot be governed by someone with good skills and attributes such as President Snow.

It came with copious amounts of paperwork and documents that needed to be filled, checked, and printed. And aside from the tedious amount of labor, the pay checked out.

But lucky for you, you managed to land the job. It wasn't a brainer to impress your employer with someone of your talent and skill. You were currently sitting at your desk, your well-manicured nails typing down onto the keyboard, reading as you wrote.

Black letter filling out the blank white document in front of you. Along with exceptional skills, you also have the upper hand with your attractiveness, curvaceous silhouette, and beautiful face, though it is always stained with a serious expression. Your eyes were hidden underneath your Bayonetta glasses, reflecting the light of your computer. On top of it, you always wore a prim, proper white collar shirt, that was almost always 'too tight' holding your chest and wrapping perfectly over your stomach.

Leather pants that hugged your ass, and a stiletto on your feet. It was mostly the part that made him hire you, your looks.

Your hair was always perfectly styled and brushed. You were too busy typing away at the computer, the clicking of the keys ringing in your ears. Your beauty tends to seize Coriolanus' attention, his eyes focus on your meticulous form, if it wasn't your face, it was your bosom in your tight shirt. He would always see a strict expression on your face along with a cold demeanor, coming into his office, and delivering important documents with a monotone voice.

You would always catch him looking when you turned yourself around or picked up papers, his eyes getting a better look at your ass in your tight leather pants. You weren't dumb or too oblivious to take account of his actions, you simply disregarded them.

Simply minding your business as you made yourself busy. You worked for the Snows for about a few months now, knowing the marital problems faced by President Snow and the First Lady were hidden from the public. You learned and noted the habits of Mr.Snow cheating on the first lady, Livia Cardew. She knew as well too, but you only ignored it, it wasn't a surprise knowing that the whole marriage was arranged, but you couldn't help to have a little altruism when you overheard her crying.

But you minded your business walking away, the sounds of your heels clicking on the delicate tile floor. After all, it wasn't your job to know or advise... You were a secretary, not a therapist.

It was a regular day, clocking into the Snow's household, walking around and checking in the employees, with a clipboard in your hand, making note of certain things. Coriolanus from afar gazed at you, ignoring the wedding band on his finger, which he carelessly wore, examining at your body in the skirt you wore. The thoughts of temptation ran through his mind.

Hearing the sound of shoes on the floor, looking to the side, "Mr.President" You greeted formally, "L/N " he responded back, before stopping at your side, "Are there any updates?" He asked, "No, Sir" You looked up at him, before looking down at the clipboard. He leaned towards your ears, "I need you in my office" he whispered, and you nodded, your eyes flickering back at the emoplyees you were once speaking to. Before putting the clipboard between your arms, and following him.

Your heels clicked on the flooring as you walked into the office, standing near his desk, and you watched him close the door behind him, sitting down in front of you. "You called, Sir?" you questioned, "Yes, I did" He respond, "I just wanted to congratulate you— ..and your work here" he began talking, "Thank you, sir" you responded to the compliments nonchalantly.

"Y/N" he glance at your standing figure, "Yes, sir?" you answered,

"Do you have a significant other" he questioned, you felt your cheeks getting red at the personal question making Coriolanus chuckle from your antics. You cleared your throat, "No sir, why?"

He got up and circled around you, you watched.

"I was just wondering—the way you dressed seemed like you had someone you were waiting for" he mumbled, you pursed your lips.

Standing in the center of the office, before feeling his body leaning over your backside, feeling his hard-on on your ass. Parting your lips, you eyed as his hand covered yours, his breath tickling your ears.

"Did you think I wouldn't get distracted with you in that skirt" He whispered, he started grinding himself on your ass. "Sir-" you mumbled, his hands fondling your body, his teeth nipping your skin, slowly bending you over on the desk.

"President Snow-" you panted, feeling yourself getting wet underneath your clothing. His finger was dangerous getting closer to your panties, "Get on the desk" He said, before withdrawing, feeling the weight of him off your body. As you obeyed getting on top of the desk, your skirt hiking up your thighs. His hands splayed on your thighs, before pushing you down onto the desk, raising your legs up in the air.

You felt the weight of his eyes on your body, your ears ringing out the sounds of your tights tearing, revealing your damp panties. Before he yanked it off, the cool air of the office hit your cunt, a moan slipping out from your lips.

"President-" you whimpered, "Call me Coriolanus, dove" the sound of his belt unbuckling made you weak. You peek down at the bulge in his boxers. "Coriolanus, please" You mewl, "I didn't know the secretary was a little slut" He teased, rubbing the back of your thighs, pushing them against your chest. Before taking out his cock from his boxer, looking away from the lewd scene.

Slapping his cock on your pussylips, you whimpered. "Your fucking desperate aren't you" he laughed at your miserable display, your cheeks red, your hands on the backside of your thighs, raising your legs up into the air. He wanted to take a picture of your erotic display. He slid his cock into you, pushing himself deep into your pussy. You bent your back at the pain recoiling in your system. His cock stretches you open, biting your lip at the pain.

His hips smacked into yours, his cock massaging your inner walls, his animalistic pace, as his cock bullies itself into your cunt. God, the way you looked underneath him looked like it was straight from porno, it made Coriolanus smile at the sight.

A once serious and reserved women, crumbling under his touch.

Coriolanus fingers popping the buttons of your collar shirt, revealing your black bra underneath the light layer. His hands massaging your mounds, the very ones that tempt him underneath your tight collar shirt. Moaning from the single touch as he rubs your peaks harshly, forcing his cock into as he snapped his hips into you.

His hands gripping on your jaw, forcing you into a kiss. Feeling his tongue exploring your wet cavern, moaning against his assault.

Locking your legs around his waist, feeling yourself slipping into the pleasure. Your eyes heavy, the temperature of your body rising. Gripping your fingers on the edge of the wooden desk, feeling yourself coming undone. Your ears perking up at the groans slipping from his lips, his hands holding the sides of your stomach, snapping his hips into you.

"Wait—" you yelped, feeling him emptying himself inside you, the warm liquid painting your walls white. Before he pulled out of you, his cock coated mixed cum.

You cringe at the sticky sensation between your thighs, as his cum dripping from you. Looking between your legs at the sticky mess, "Fuck" Coriolanus muttered, his eyes flickering to your limp display as he tucked himself into his briefs. He smoothed out his hair, before throwing you a was of cash. "Buy some birth control pills, I don't want another one running around" he groans.

You weren't lying if you said you were shocked but only nodded to his words, and got up from the desk. The cum leaks out as you slip your panties on and your skirt. You wondered how many women he did that to, not just you, fixing up the buttons to your top and walking out of his office. Though days from the incident, you still worked and completed papers, still typing away on the screen in front of you, but time again it happened.

More times than he buried himself into you, fucking you on his desk or between his legs sucking on his cock with your plump lips.

He would leave little gifts on top of your desk, with expensive jewelry inside, with a letter from him. Opening a letter with your manicured nails with dainty words from him and faux promises inside, even if you were to accept his words, it wouldn't be possible because of his wife. Putting the letter face down and staring at the gift bag with the luxurious brand etch on it.

You plainly ignored it, going back to daily tasks. And time again when you went out with Coriolanus to satisfy his pleasure, it would be meeting at one of his expensive penthouses or a lavish hotel, it was the same thing, time and time again, with him on you and touching you in places a married man shouldn't do to other women. It wasn't a surprise being Coriolanus's little secretary and him screwing up during hours or after. The affair wasn't hidden from the employees inside the Snow's manor, and it wouldn't be a surprise that the First Lady knows it.

But more of a surprise if she confronts her husband about his infidelity.

Looking at the computer screen you typed away, your ears perking up at the sound of heels on the tile floors, the steps echoing and bouncing around the walls of the west side of the manor. Looking up at the sound, you weren't surprised by the appearance of the First Lady. "Mrs Snow " you greeted blankly. An expression of fear, anger, and disgust printed on her face, "Where is the president?" She asked holding her hands to herself, "He's in a meeting" You answered, the answer seemed like something she wasn't looking for.

"I'll tell him that you came to see him—"

"No..he isn't in a meeting is he?" you heard her voice getting louder and enraged at every word that came out of her lips, "The President doesn't like anyone knowing where he is, he enjoys his privacy" You answered her coolly,

"He probably fucking one of his whores—and you are one too, aren't you, Y/N" You finally stopped typing and lifted your eyes from the computer screen, "Like I said, Mrs Snow, the president like his privacy.." you fully looked at the teary women in front of you,

"-And I prefer not to tell you about mine—I'll tell him that you stopped by, Mrs. Snow" The sentence leaving your lips was the final nail of the coffin for her, as she broke down onto the floor, her wails echoing around the manor. You stared at her weepy form before you called maids to escort her away, you wouldn't lie to say you did feel bad for her.

But you are just Coriolanus's little secretary nothing else, not a counselor, or an advisor just a cumdump for him and only him.

You squeezed your thighs feeling his warm cum leaking out from you as you stared at the First Lady getting escorted in front of you.

only his cumdump...and nothing else

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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago

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My Poor High Lord

Eris x reader

A/n: I couldn’t get sick Eris with reader doting on him out of my head so here it is

Warnings: none

You could hear Eris coughing from his office and you had had enough. He kept saying he was fine but you could tell Eris was sick. He just didn’t want to seem weak.

Beron had made the boys compete their whole lives. Which meant they weren’t allowed to be sick or back out of their responsibilities. But Beron is gone and you’re here now. And you were determined to make Eris take a sick day.

Stepping through the open double doors you stood in front of Eris’s desk with your arms crossed, tapping your foot at him. Your mate looked up at you with dropping eyelids. His skin paler than usual, making his freckles look more vibrant.

“You’re going back to bed.” You said with a commanding tone. Eris shook his head, sniffling loudly. “I’m fine y/n. Besides, this needs to get done or the vote will be postponed again. And I’m not giving Barkley a reason to undermine this bill.”

You swiped the pen from his hand, giving him a look that said you weren’t fucking around. With a violent cough causing his body to shake Eris finally conceded.

Once he was back in bed you kept him pinned beneath the sheets with a glare. “Can you get me the paperwork-“ “No.” you cut him off nonchalantly. “But-“ You cut Eris off with a frustrated sigh. “You made me High Lady of this court. I can handle it Eris. We’ve been over that bill a thousand times. Just rest, please. I need you to rest.”

You place a kiss on his warm forehead, “Call for me if you need anything.”

As noon rolled around you decided to check on Eris. You entered your chambers holding a tray with soup and tea for him. Shutting the door Eris stirred on his side of the bed. He groaned, stretching out his aching body.

“I brought you some food.” You sit on the edge of the bed, placing the tray on his bedside table. “Thank you, sweet fox.” Eris tried to take the bowl from your hand but you pulled away, clicking your tongue at him. He laid back against the headboard as you held the spoon out for him to eat.

Halfway through the meal a knock came from the door. Before you could tell them to enter an advisor shoved their way in past your handmaiden. The male bowed, “High Lord, I have urgent news-“ “I will handle it.” You interject. The male looks taken aback at your abruptness. “High Lady I appreciate but it is a matter for the High Lord.”

That always pissed you off. How advisors would brush you off like you’ve never done anything for the court. You stood to your full height, brushing down the skirt of your dress. “The High Lord is sick, as I’m sure you can see. He needs rest. Not advisors barging into his personal chambers. Let’s go to my office and you can fill me in on this urgent matter.”

You gesture for the now sputtering male to leave. Your handmaiden guides him out with a winning smirk on her lips. Turing back to Eris you see silver lining his eyes, his lips pulled in a tight smile. “You’re amazing and I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh love,” you bend down and kiss his cheek. “I’ll be back to check on you later.” Eris hummed and shifted back under the covers. Leaving your bedroom you put your High Lady mask back on, ready to rip into these advisors.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #eris vanserra acotar #Eris vanserra #eris vanserra fic #eris vanserra x reader #acotar eris #high lord eris #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fluff

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amethystwrytes · 3 months ago

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Of Course, Professor (Drabble)

Pairing: Professor! Lee Know x Female Reader

Genre: Romantic. Smut. Fluff.

Summary: A spicy but sweet night at home.

Warnings: Explicit language and explicit depictions of sex.

WC: 950

A/N: I was originally going to end the main story with some 🌶️ but I changed my mind and never finished the scene. You all voted for spicy domestic fluff over raunchy, totally unethical office smut - which btw I'm proud af of you all lmaooo - so here it is.

“What are you working on?” Minho asks as he sits beside you on the couch with a pile of papers in his lap.

You look up from your sketchbook and shrug, “I’m trying to sketch out some ideas, I’d like to put some original paintings in my classroom as decoration.”

He looks over your shoulder onto the notebook in front of you, “I like all the different shapes in this one.”

“I like it too,” you turn your head and peck his lips with yours, “I think I’m going to do it in really bright, bold colors. The kids will like it.”

“They’ll love it,” he smiles, “Are you nervous for school to start?”

“No,” you say sheepishly then chuckle, “but yes. It’s been a while since I was in a classroom, and when I was I was still a student, with a veteran teacher to correct my mistakes - being in a room alone, with no one there to fix it if I mess up is intimidating. Then again, it’s just art, how bad could I possibly fuck them up?” you laugh and Minho chuckles too.

“It’s not just art,” he takes your sketchbook and starts flipping through, “To at least one of those children, it’s going to be the most important class they ever take. Years - decades - from now they’ll remember what they learned from the teacher who taught them that their art mattered, that it was important. They’ll think of you every time they pick up a brush, or pencil and I can’t think of a more perfect person for the job.”

You stare at him, a soft smile playing at your lips.

“What?” he grins back, “Is there something on my face?”

You shake your head and crawl over him, pushing his paperwork to the side, your legs straddling his lap and you take his face in your hands.

“I just can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t know how sweet and soft you were,” you tell him, pressing your lips against his.

“Mmm,” he moans into your mouth, “I am not.”

“You are.”

He tosses you over onto your back and you giggle, “And I can’t believe you ever thought you were going to be a lawyer,” he clicks his teeth and sorts his papers back in order, shaking them at you, “No discipline at all. Your classes don’t begin until August, but some of us are teaching Summer classes and Sunday is my day to grade…”

As he lectures you, you slide your shorts and underwear off. When he looks back his eyes go dark as you allow your knees to gently fall apart.

He makes a raspy sound in his throat as his eyes narrow, “No fucking discipline…” he mutters, tossing the papers on the coffee table.

“Then teach me some, Professor,” you bite your lip.

He chuckles as he pulls his shirt over his head, “A pointless endeavor. I spoil you is what I do,” he grins, situating himself between your legs. He begins kissing the inside of your thighs, the cool air hitting your center tells you you’re already soaked.

He dips a finger into your cunt and twists, your hips come off the couch and you sigh. He continues to pump you while his tongue paints swirls of pleasure over every centimeter of your pussy. He’s so fucking good. You find yourself burying your fingers in his hair, latching him onto you as you move your hips with his mouth as the pleasure builds. Every time he eats you out you try to hold it, to stop yourself from coming just to bask in how good his tongue feels on you, but maybe he’s right - you have no discipline. You spread your legs as far as they go and stiffen, your orgasm hitting you in rhythmic waves.

“More,” you manage to squeak out.

“Spoiled,” he whispers back, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm as he pulls the rest of his clothes off and resumes his place between your legs.

He grabs your hands and holds them in place above your head, his lips come down on one of your nipples and he gently sucks and licks wide languid strokes over the sensitive bud. You squirm beneath him, needing to feel him inside you. Finally he relents, and removes his mouth from your breast, still stiffly holding your hands while he pushes into you.

He pauses for a moment, even all these months later both of you still need a second to adapt to him deep inside you. It’s more than a physical connection of body parts, it feels incendiary, it feels right - it feels like love.

You wrap your legs around his hips so he can go as deep as he needs to, his open mouth against your neck spilling rapid breaths and dirty, sexy secrets. You know he’s close, so you lift your hips slightly because you’re so in tune with him that you know it will hit just right, know it will push you over the edge too and he needs it.

When the coil all wound up inside you springs, you spasm around him and he moans, freezing all movement except for the throbbing of his cock spilling inside you. He remains on top of you for several moments, letting his breath return to normal. He lets go of your fists and slides his palm over yours, lacing your fingers together as he plants kisses along your cheek and jawline, his cock softening inside your body.

“I love you,” he whispers against your temple, eyes closed.

You use your free hand to wipe his sweaty bangs from his face, you kiss his nose and lips, “I love you too Minho.”

THE END

Endnotes:

Thank you for reading, and here's your virtual smooooooch 😘

My Sluts for Minho tag list / people who asked to be tagged in pt 2: @katieraven , @linocz , @screamobubbles , @hpnsfwaddict , @simpforleeknaur also @moni-logues (so she doesn’t send me threatening discord messages 😂) …If I missed you somehow I’m sorry, I’ve got zero organization methods when approaching tag lists and relied on re-reading the replies on the main fic to remember who asked, so if you asked a different way it probably got lost in my brain 🙃

#skz fanfiction #lee minho fanfiction #skz smut #Lee minho smut #lee know fanfiction #skz romance #Lee minho romance #lee know x reader #Drabble #romantic #fluffy

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queer-n-here · 8 months ago

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Y'all thank you for your responses! So here is: Large and in charge reader, who's only nice to their on true love: OSAMU DAZAI!

(And yes, as you can see, I voted on my own poll. And yes, I voted for Tanizaki. I'm a simp for him broooooo)

Also, bruv, I dunno why but I got so carried away and this got really angsty. Like... I never do angst. NEVER. Yet here we are. I wonder if I'm okay. Well whatever.

Contents: Dazai getting drunk with reader.

Warnings: No smut, kinda angst, I totally digressed from the original plot line I had planned, and now I want nothing more than to give Osamu Dazai a big fat hug.

Dazai had found himself a new hobby: watching people's reactions as you talked to him.

I mean, most would think, really, how interesting can THAT be? But being the sort of person you were, all mean and menacing at one look but really soft and gentle on the inside, it was rare for you to really hold a conversation without coming off as intimidating. So when people saw you smiling softly at Dazai's jokes, and watching him fondly as he chatted away, they were generally more than surprised.

Dazai remembered distinctly the day you'd met. Fukuzawa had found you fighting solo against three of the Port Mafia's best ability-users, and known with one glance that you were stronger than even you knew. It hadn't taken him long to convince you to join the Armed Detective Agency; with painfully dead parents and a burned down house, you didn't really have anywhere else to go.

You passed their little entrance test, even though after they revealed that it was just an entrance test you couldn't help but be slightly annoyed. All that hard work to try and save that girl only for the whole scenario to be fake. Should've just ignored it.

It had been two years since then. And even though you wouldn't really say it out loud, you were happy that Fukuzawa had taken you under his wing.

How else would you have met Dazai? Or any of the others, who you did secretly like, even though you were unsure about expressing it.

One day, Fukuzawa sent you and Dazai to investigate a letter that the detective agency had received. The sender threatened to blow up the Gundam Factory in Yokohama, which was a popular entertainment place for tourists. Fukuzawa did contact the owner, but since the area covered by the Factory was quite large, and the number of people who were already there was also ginormous, the owner asked for them to investigate the culprit before the bombs could go off.

It was an easy job, and you two had it finished before 3 in the afternoon. All that was left now was some measly paperwork, which you would have to take care of alone because Dazai despised that part of work with a burning passion.

And so Dazai decided to fool around a little.

He took you to a bar, somewhere in a deserted alley in the middle of nowhere, walking with his hands on the back of his head and making nasty comments about everything he could lay his eyes on. You followed silently.

"Say," He yanked open the door of Lupin. "What about you, though? Where do you generally spend after-mission free time?"

Dazai led you into the bar, plopping down on a barstool in front of the counter.

"I sleep," You said, sitting down next to him.

"Huh?" He made a weird face. "That's it?"

A bartender appeared behind the counter.

"Mn," You nodded, looking at the bartender.

Dazai ordered 'his usual', and you decided to have the same as him. It wasn't bad, frankly, sitting there next to him on adjacent barstools and hearing him ramble on about everything and somehow nothing at the same time. He drank and drank and drank and drank, till he was telling you about Ango, about Odasaku and the days they spent together. He drank till his pale cheeks were flushed red, till his neck didn't have the strength to hold his head anymore, till his head was pressed into your chest and his shoulders were shaking with silent sobs.

You stroked the back of Dazai's head. Sober, he was a goof, running around pretending that everything was jokes and comedy. Drunk, he was much more grim, face set firm even as more tears splashed down it, eyes miserable in a way that made your heart ache.

"What's making you sad?" You asked him, desperate to take away at least some part of his sorrow.

But he didn't answer, shaking his head and clenching the fabric of your shirt so desperately it felt like he was hanging on for dear life.

You let him, wrapping your arms around him slowly, pulling him closer. You couldn't do anything but that, and the mere thought of it made you feel like the most useless being on the planet.

You paid for the drinks and heaved Dazai up on your shoulder, letting him stain a different part of your coat with tears as you walked away from the bar.

You took him to the agency dormitory, but once you were in front of his door you couldn't go any further.

"Dazai," You said, your voice gentle as you slowly put him down, and he wobbled on his feet. "Do you have your keys?"

The man couldn't even stand, and had to lean against the door for balance to look up at you. "Hmm..."

He began fumbling through his coat, hands slowly and thick with the weight of the alcohol in his veins. Finally, he produced a key, holding it up and pressing it into your chest. His tears had finally stopped.

You wiped the remnants off his cheek with your thumb. "Let me open the door, hmm?"

Dazai moved to lean against you instead of the door, and you placed an arm around his waist to support him as your free hand opened the door. You led him into the room, sitting him down on the floor near the doorway so you could take off his shoes. When you looked up, however, he had laid back on the floor, glossy eyes staring up at the ceiling.

"Say, [Name]," His voice was thick, his words were slurred. "Some people believe that right and wrong are relative... That there's no black and white... D'you think that's true?"

You looked at him. He was regretful, you could tell. But the fact that you couldn't help him, that you couldn't snatch all that pain away from him and swallow it was enough to make you bodily ache.

"I don't think I have a definite answer for that," You said, wishing you had, wishing you knew how to comfort him. "Why do you ask?"

Dazai's hands rose, clutching at the lapel of your jacket and pulling you closer to his face, making you hover over him on the floor. "D'you think... In a world like ours... We can ever do 'the right thing'?"

You shifted your weight to one hand, raising the other to caress his cheeks softly. "If you try hard enough, yeah. Even if no one's a hundred percent good, ever, if you try hard enough... I think that's all that matters."

"And..." Dazai's brow furrowed, and he looked adorably confused. "How hard is hard enough?"

You couldn't help but think of how, in any other situation, Dazai would've made a sexual pun out of those words.

"Hmm..." You thought of it, wanting to give him an answer that would satiate him. "Your best."

It was a simple answer, and yet Dazai's eyes widened, as if you'd solved the biggest mystery of the universe. "Just that?"

You nodded. "Just that. That's more than enough, Dazai."

And he nodded back, wrapping his heavy arms around your shoulders and pulling you closer, burying his head in your chest again. He fell asleep like that, holding you like a child.

You took him into the room later, taking off his coat and sweater and untucking his shirt before placing him on the futon and covering him with the quilt.

The next day when you saw him at the agency, he was back to his clownery, but something about the way he looked at you had changed.

#dom male reader #top male reader #dom reader #sub bsd x you #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #sub bsd #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub dazai #sub dazai x you #sub osamu dazai #sub osamu dazai x you

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months ago

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Am I an asshole because I told someone to shut the hell up about his autism?

Now, please read this before making your vote.

I (21 F) started going back to school recently, I signed up for classes late because it took so long for the paperwork and processes to be finalized. I was taking a speech class in the morning and we had to do a group project in class. Now, I spoke with the professor and told her I did not do well in group projects because I either get treated like literal crap or I do all the work. She said she didn't care, either I join a group or get a 0. Someone (20 M) was watching, we'll call him Ed for clarity. I asked if I could join Ed's group and he said yes. I tried being really nice to Ed and waited for our group members to meet with us after class. He showed me which music he liked and I said it was nice. So, during the entire time period of this project I would meet a lot with my group mates and we'd do the project. It was very difficult because professor wanted over 10 resources and a certain length for the report, then to top it off a PowerPoint we'd be presenting too. Ed did a lot of things to make me feel very uncomfortable, but my group mates ignored it and didn't say anything. He'd talk about how he visited the dark web and looked into hitmen. Then he showed us an intro to a porno. I felt very uncomfortable and mentioned it to the other girl in our group, she said she would talk with the other boys in our group about it (they all had been friends since highschool except Ed) , she said the assignment did require us to find an intro that was terrible, but maybe a porno intro was too much. The assignment in question was basically a research project about why introductions are very important. They ended up choosing some 90's tv show intro, I don't remember which one it was, just that the show got 2 seasons and the intro was too stereotypical for the time. During the time Ed would send me random "hi"s and he added/followed me on all my social media. He would comment on everything and would try to make conversations on them when I wouldn't text back. I kept the texts as bland as possible. Ed just gave me a bad vibe and kept doing shit to make me uncomfortable. Now here's where the autism part comes in. I was talking to a guy I had a crush on instagram and I guess Ed noticed. So Ed basically calls me and asks if I'm not attracted to him because he has autism. I said what the hell and hung up. It made me feel so uncomfortable then he started bringing up his autism on all my photos, posts, tweets, you name it. I didn't know what to do anymore. Ed kept blowing up my phone too. He'd message me every 5 mins and would get mad when I wouldn't answer right away. So back to my crush, Ed messaged him I wasn't interested in dating him! Like dude! So my crush says he doesn't have time for immaturity and blocks me despite me trying to defuse and apologize hundreds of times for that. So I asked for some advice and basically I got that his autism was making him act like that. I don't want to sound ableist, I'm sorry if I give off that impression, but enough was enough. I told him to fuck off or else I'd get the authorities and school involved since what he was doing was harassment. He said he can't harass since he has autism so I told him to shut the hell up about his autism since it wasn't a "get out of jail" card so i finally blocked him everywhere. I don't know if I'm being an asshole or maybe I'm just not patient or equip to handle Ed? Even then, I am in no shape or form attracted to Ed nor was I ever. Now I just never want him bothering me again.

#aita #am i the asshole

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callsignfate · 1 year ago

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Personal Exile

(fem!reader x Valeria fic that was voted on! Part two is almost done, so it will be posed today or tomorrow. No use on Y/N or R/N. No major character death. Talk of death and mention of death.)

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three/ Part Four/

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

Exiled. That's the word you used to describe yourself. Deadly. Others would call you. Of course, that's what being ex-military meant. You were trained to take lives on command. You realized soon enough that the men ordering you to kill were nothing but power-hungry men who relished the sight of blood on the battlefield. They didn't care who got in the way as long as the order was executed.

You didn't like that, the ceaseless cycle of death, with the numbers rising every second. Sadly, you knew that's how the world worked. The countries with money and power had the upper hand. Death was inevitable, whether it was your own or others', you couldn't stop it. It would catch up with you eventually.

You left the military. The day was bittersweet, although not exactly professional. You didn't bother with paperwork or wait for your never-ending contract to expire; you simply disappeared. Officially, you were deemed "killed in action." That's the story you crafted, at least. You wanted nothing more than to leave, so you did. You never said goodbye to the men or women working with you. Never told them of your treason.

Raised by a family deeply who's lives were and are consumed by the military, where dying on the field was considered the most honorable act one could perform, that's what you had given them. Technically.

You lived life unpredictably, like the wind in a storm, traveling until you grew bored. Your wanderlust eventually brought you to Las Almas, a town where corruption even tainted the military. It almost felt like the place where you could live.

You heard quickly of 'El Sin Nombre', he was supposed to be everywhere. He was. You observed people tracking your every step: military personnel, police officers, and even children. Their watchful eyes followed you wherever you went in the streets, regardless of what you were doing.

He was everywhere, although he was never seen by the public. A faceless leader, the Las Almas population seemed to adore, with their corruption tactics you could clearly see.

You didn't stay in Las Almas, but rather nearby, so you could visit the odd place whenever. Your curiosity of how exactly it function knawed at your mind to unravel it, even if it was for yourself.

Finding a boring job seemed out of your scope. You were born and bred for the military, which trained you for killing. You decided one night when a woman who was looking for her daughter came up to you, begging for your help to find her.

Your heart ached when you heard the police refused to help her because the last known location for the girl was Las Almas. You agree willingly, although at first you don't know where to start.

Wandering Las Almas for hours until you see what looks like the little girls hair and clothes from the picture the distraught mother gave you. You quickly move through the crowded streets as you weave in between the men and women quickly. You keep your body low as you move towards the door, you see a man leanding her in by her hand through. You open the door slowly to hear nothing but loud male voices arguing in Spanish. The dark hallway sheltering you from their view as you take silent slow steps towards the voices.

You freeze as one of the men take a step back, exposing their back to the dark hallway. the side of his head barely visible, the little girl on the opposite side of him holding his hand. The arguments didn't cease, their yelling covering up your footsteps and presence.

The little girl had grown bored of the arguing and began pulling on the man's arm, whining that she was bored. The man let go of the little girl's arm as she started to twirl and play. Then, she saw you. Your body urged you to freeze as the little girl stared at you like a deer caught in headlights while you remained crouched in the dark hallway. Desperately, you pulled out the picture of the little girl and her mother from your pocket and pointed at it. Adrenaline surged through your veins as you silently prayed she wouldn't alert the men to your presence.

Thankfully, the girl smiled and walked towards you, muttering 'mamá'. The men were so engrossed in their argument that they hadn't noticed the little girl's disappearance. You handed her the pictures to keep her quiet as you held her close and slowly backed up towards the door you had entered through.

The man looked around frantically for the little girl, now in your arms. His eyes scanned the area around his feet before slowly glancing down the hallway, where he spotted you and the little girl.

"Hey!" The man's voice rang out loudly, causing the argument to come to a sudden halt. You swiftly drew your pistol from your pants, stood up, and pushed the girl behind you protectively. You aimed quickly at him as he reached for his own gun.

The small bang of your gun made the little girl yelp in fear as the man fell. Not giving the rest of the men any time to react, you picked her up and sprinted out of the house. Numerous eyes watched you as you ran, clutching the little girl in your arms, before a car blocked your path. You came to a sudden stop and scanned your surroundings frantically.

Endless eyes were fixed on you, endless people observing, though they didn't move towards you. A woman stepped out of the vehicle with short black hair and a dark green vest over form-fitting clothes. She was beautiful but posed a threat. Her gaze bore into you with a cocky, amused smile.

"I bet El Sin Nombre would love to know that you killed one of their men and are holding a piece of leverage," she said in a smooth, confident voice, fully aware of your actions.

Your eyes locked onto hers as you held the little girl tightly, your gun now pointed at the ground. She was clearly reading you like an open book, scanning your attire and body. Her confidence was palpable, and she waved off the men who had been pursuing you. She took a step towards you, and instinctively, you took a step back, keeping a close eye on the woman.

"I'd love to tell El Sin Nombre that the man I killed practically handed his life over," you retorted, offering her an equally cocky smirk. You remained focused on her, ignoring the men behind you who were observing the situation closely.

She scoffed, her jaw tightening as her eyes assessed your every move. She waved her hand, dismissing the men who had been following you and took another step closer. You mirrored her, taking a step back, never letting your guard down.

"I doubt El Sin Nombre would appreciate you calling one of their men an easy target," she replied, her lips pursed, her gaze never leaving you.

"El Sin Nombre can kiss my ass," you hissed, maintaining your defiant posture and returning her confident gaze. You felt the little girl's arms clutching your shirt tightly as she clung to you.

The woman regarded you with a flat expression, then offered a subtle smile. "You're asking for a death wish."

You matched her smile with your own. "Yea, well, let's just say I'm used to wishing for death, and it hasn't caught up with me yet. This little girl isn't leverage; she's a human being who wants to go back to her mother. Move out of the way so I can make that happen, or another one of El Sin Nombre's men dies," you declared boldly. You could feel the girl's arms gripping your shirt as she held onto your neck tightly.

The woman maintained her unwavering gaze. "I don't take orders, especially not from you."

Your arm snapped up, and without hesitation, you fired a shot at another one of the men who had chased the little girl from the apartment where you had rescued her. Your cold, dead stare remained locked onto the woman's eyes as you spoke, "It wasn't an order; it was a threat, and it still stands. Move."

To your surprise, the woman signaled her men to return to the line of cars behind the one she had exited. Her cocky smile had now faded, replaced by a trace of annoyance. She muttered something under her breath in Spanish as she climbed into the car. "You will pay your debts to El Sin Nombre," she hissed before slamming the car door shut, and the vehicles sped away.

You immediately started jogging, holstering your gun quickly to hold the little girl tightly in your arms as you made your way back to where you had last seen her mother. Upon reuniting the little girl with her mother, you watched the touching scene as mother and daughter embraced. Even though you were on the outskirts of Las Almas, you couldn't shake the feeling that someone was always watching, their eyes following your every move.

♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤~♤

#valeria mw2 #valeria garza x reader #valeria cod #valeria x reader #valeria garza #mw2 valeria x reader #valeria garza cod #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza x you #cartel mommy

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bobby-r2d2-floyd · 2 years ago

Text

The Nanny (Hangman x Reader)

authors note: so, hangman won by a long shot in the poll, but for the few that voted for the rest, they're still coming! i have to deal with the bs with my basement and i am a college student, so i have to deal with my coursework as well.

inspired by @roosterforme

this will be a mutli part series, im not sure how many parts though

pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x benjamin niece!reader; established mav x penny

warnings: some swear words and an inaccurate depiction of how social workers handle dropping a baby off to its living, absent father. also cyclone is a dad bc jon hamm if a dilf.

not proof or beta read, we die like men.

summary: Hangman wakes up one day to a social worker and an infant on his doorstep. the infant? his 3 month old daughter.

word count: 1.9k

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It was the one day that the Dagger squad had a later morning (11am, per Maverick’s request), so when the pounding on Jake’s door woke him up at 8:45, he was a little pissed.

He stumbled out of bed and the arms of some red head whose name he definitely doesn’t remember, throwing on a shirt along the way to his front door where the pounding is originating from and reverberating through his skull. “I heard you the first fucking time,” he curses out, throwing the door open and preparing to unleash verbal hell on the person standing at his doorstep.

All the words die out though when he sees an older woman standing there with a sleeping baby in a car seat at her feet. “Jacob Seresin?” she asks and his eyes bounce between the infant and the woman.

“Yes?” he asks, voice cracking a bit as he looks back to the woman.

“Do you mind if I come in?” he nods and moves aside as she picks up the car seat and steps inside. “My name is Caroline Husband, I’m a social worker for the state of California.” she tells him as she sets the seat down on his coffee table, “and this is Avery. Your daughter.”

Jake feels his heart stop as he looks down at the little girl, “what, what do you mean?” he sinks down to the floor on his knees, heart racing and Caroline gives him a small smile.

“Her mother-” she looks down at the paperwork she was holding, “Samantha Barnes, passed away from complications shortly after birth, you were listed as father on the birth certificate.”

Samantha Barnes… Jake remembered her with a small smile. They were briefly exclusive before she had disappeared one night, leaving behind the memories and a note saying she needed to go back home to help with her ailing father, her last living relative that she still spoke to.

“H-how uh, how old is she?” he asks, taking her small, but definitely bigger than a newborn, hand in between his finger and thumb.

“She spent some time with a foster while the state was waiting for you to return stateside. She just turned 3 months old.” Caroline forms him, which makes sense as he was just in the middle of the ocean for the last five months. “I have some supplies in my car that her foster mom put together for you, should you choose to keep her.”

“Choose to?” he asks, as if there was any other option for him. The second he found out Avery was his, there was never any other option.

“You can alway sign your parental rights away, there’s plenty of families looking to adopt babies.” she says and he shakes his head.

“No, she stays with me,” Jake says as he stands and Caroline smiles up at him.

“Well then, there’s all the information that you need. Her old foster mom made a list of information for you, her pediatrician, what formula she was feeding, how to prepare bottles...” she goes on to tell him more necessary information about Avery but tunes her out as he watches the little girl start to wake up and look around, well, as much as a 3 month old can, he supposed. “Here’s my card, it has my personal cell phone number on the back should you not be able to reach me at my office in the event of an emergency.”

He takes it with a smile and a thank you before walking Caroline to the door to help her bring the items in from her car and as quickly as she was here, she was gone. Leaving Jake to sit on his couch as he stares into the eyes of his daughter.

He kicks out his guest after 15 minutes of sitting there before he’s googling how to put a car seat base securely into the back seat of a F-150. After fighting for what felt like an hour (only 10 minutes) he has his daughter secured in his car before driving way under the speed limit to The Hard Deck, only 45 minutes late to meeting up with the rest of the Daggers but as soon as they see him walk into the bar with a car seat, all the teasing for being late blows out of there mind.

“Do we need to call the police?” Bradley teases and Jake lets out a nervous laugh.

“No.. no police needed.” Jake says as he sets his daughter’s car seat and diaper bag in the middle of the pool table the team was surrounding.

“Well, then who is this?”

Jake takes a deep breath before answering, “this is my daughter, Avery Seresin.”

Immediately the team has plenty of questions for the team’s resident playboy. He explains the situation as best he can with the information he got from Caroline.

“I never even knew Sam was pregnant. She never said anything and then she was gone.” Jake says softly as he looks down as his daughter in his arms, sleepily drinking from the bottle he made and Penny gives him a smile.

“You seem like a natural already.” she says, snapping a photo of the daddy-daughter moment and he smiles.

“Yeah, I was still around when my sisters started having their own kids, all girls too, ironically.” he responds with a small laugh and the movement of his chest startled Avery awake and she starts drinking more steadily again.

The squad takes the rest of the day before the bar opens with turns holding the newest member of the team. Aside from Jake, Bob and Natasha were the only other two who seemed comfortable enough to hold her without needing any instruction on support for her head.

“Does Cyclone know you have a kid yet?” Mav asks as he takes his turn holding Avery, seasoned from when Bradley was a baby and he used to watch him while Carole and Goose needed alone time.

“Fuck, no not yet.” Jake groans as he rubs his hands over his face. “I need to go see him.”

“Go see him now, between Penny being a mom and me dealing with Bradley as a baby there’s plenty of experience here to watch Avery for a bit while you try to get some time to adjust to dad-life.” Mav says and Jake looks over at him.

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah, besides, Avery is already better at 3 months than Rooster ever was.” Mav teases and Bradley makes a couple of offended noises before being slapped in the chest by Natasha.

Jake nods, “okay well here’s her-”

“Hangman, get out of here. I did all this with Amelia.” Penny says as she pushes him towards the door and Jake pulls her into a hug.

“Thank you so much, Pen.” he says, meaning it too since Penny is the closest thing to a mom that he has since he hasn’t talked to his real mom in years.

The drive into base wasn’t a long one, but felt like it was with how often he was checking his backseat and not seeing his daughter before remembering she was safe with Penny and Maverick at the bar.

Walking into Admiral Simpson’s office, Jake broke out into a nervous sweat. “Um, excuse me, sir.” he says as he knocks on the open door.

Both Admiral Simpson and Admiral Bates looked up at him from where they were sitting at the desk discussing some news that they received from higher ups.

“Can I help you, Lieutenant?” Cyclone asks and Jake nods, taking that as an ‘okay’ to walk into the office.

“Yes actually, I uh.. I was wondering if I would be able to get leave, sir. I had a surprise visit from a social worker this morning and-and my infant daughter.” he says as he straightens out his back and rolls his shoulders back.

“You have a child?” Cyclone asks, closing the folder that he had open to focus more on Jake. “Since when?”

“Well, as of 9am this morning, sir. Her mother passed away after she was born and no other living relatives so… She’s currently with me. Well, not with me Captain Mitchell and Penny Benjamin are currently watching her.. sir.”

Warlock and Cyclone share a look and Jake stands there nervously, “I know that this is short notices but all I’m asking for is a week to figure things out, find a sitter, get some kind of a routine started for-”

“Okay.” Cyclone says and Jake looks at him instead of the spot that he had been looking at on the wall. “You only want just one week?”

“I can have more, sir?” Cyclone nods, having recently become a father himself and knows how important bonding is for parents.

“Unless something urgent comes, how does three weeks sound?” he asks as he pulls something up on his computer and begins to type.

“I would greatly appreciate that.” Jake says with a small smile and Cyclone nods, ending the conversation and Jake starts to walk out of the office.

“Seresin?” Warlock calls out and Jake turns around, “congratulations.”

“Thank you, sirs.”

Jake drives back to the bar already feeling lighter than he had in the last 6 hours, and upon walking back into the watering hole, he sees a red faced Avery and a panicked Rooster.

“Bradshaw what did you do to my daughter?”

“What did I do? She threw up on me!” he says, holding the infant safely, and at an arm's length away.

The rest of the team is laughing behind him and Jake just takes Avery and lays her against him so her head is on his shoulder, “well I’m sure you deserved it.”

Bradley glares at him before wandering away to the bathroom to clean up. Jake smiles and rubs his daughters back as she babbles in his ear.

“How did talking to the boss go?” Penny asks and Jake smiles.

“Really good, actually. Said I can have three weeks as long as nothing urgent comes up that’ll need the full team's attention.”

“Well, if you ever need a nanny so you can have a break and none of us are available, my niece just moved to the area and is looking for work.” Penny says with a small smile as Jake moves to sit next to her. “Plus she has a degree in early childhood and special education.”

“Okay, yeah I’ll let you know.” he says with a nod.

“Well, you can meet her tonight, she’s supposed to come and help me out here for the night since Jimmy can’t make it in.” Jake just nods and Penny pats his shoulder that Avery isn’t sleeping on while she stands to start opening duties for the bar.

Jake didn’t end up meeting Penny’s niece that night, or any time in the following week. In fact, it wasn’t until the last week of his leave that he met her.

Jake was holding Avery as he walked into the bar before it opened, she was babbling up a storm and he took his sunglasses off to put on the top of his head when he saw someone new behind the bar, head thrown back and laughing at something that Bob had said.

You look over at him and he swears his heart stopped, “Hi! I’m Y/N Benjamin, but you can call me Saturn.”

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next part

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taglist: if you want to join the taglist for all my future works, shoot me a message and i'll be happy to add you :)

@mandylove1000

#glen powell imagine #jake seresin #hangman seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun maverick #dagger squad #bradley bradshaw #bob floyd #natasha trace #hangman seresin x reader #not beta read we die like men

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