#and the head of the department doesn't like answering questions and just directs you to the rubric that is of course full of lies

[kittyhazelnut]

society if I didn't have a million years of homework every fucking day

[punkshort]

Have A Good Night

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Every week like clockwork, the same devastatingly handsome man comes into the grocery store where you work to buy flowers. It's not until he asks you out when you realize the flowers aren't for his wife or girlfriend.

Warnings: no outbreak AU, language, flirting, alcohol and food consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), protected piv sex, size kink, shy!joel, fluff, mutual pining, cringy/embarrassing crush interactions

WC: 7.9K

Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna Challenge (masterlist here)

dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics

It was never roses that he bought. That should have been your first clue.

Every Friday he came through your checkout lane with a beautiful flower arrangement. Sometimes it was lilies, sometimes it was daffodils, but never roses.

He hardly spared you a glance when he slid his card through the machine. Occasionally he would comment about the weather or how busy the store was, but he rarely ever made eye contact.

It wasn't unusual and it didn't offend you. Most customers had other things on their minds and they preferred to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible. But this particular customer, the one with dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders and patchy beard always caught your eye. It was the best part of your week. You never had the nerve to say anything to him, but your friend Andy noticed the way you always got nervous when you saw him standing in line, how your demeanor shifted and your hands shook just a little bit.

He's not wearing a ring, Andy pointed out one day as you counted your drawer. You rolled your eyes.

That doesn't mean anything, you replied. Why else would he be buying flowers?

Then one day, as you scanned your handsome stranger's flowers, you noticed a few of the daisies were wilting.

"Do you want to pick out a different bouquet?" you had mustered up the courage to ask. The store was quiet, no one was lined up behind him. There was a big football game that night and it kept most people at home.

His eyes snapped up to yours and he froze like a deer in the headlights. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for an answer while trying to think if you said something stupid to warrant such a delayed reaction. "A few of these flowers are already dying. See?" You tilted the bouquet in his direction so he could see the flowers with the petals that were turning brown.

"Oh," he finally said, then nodded his head. "Y-yeah, thanks. D'you mind if I just-" he jutted his thumb over his shoulder.

"It's no big deal, I'll wait."

He gave you a crooked grin and disappeared back into the store. The florist department wasn't far from the registers but it was enough time for Andy to lock eyes with you from customer service and give you a look. You rolled your eyes at him and turned back around just as the hot flower guy was returning with a new selection.

"Thanks," he said again once you handed him his receipt. He didn't make a move to leave.

"Don't mention it," you replied, feeling Andy's stupid grin burning into the back of your head the longer hot flower guy stood there.

"Have you worked here long?" he asked after a brief silence that was bordering on uncomfortable. You blinked, taken aback at the random question and tried to ignore your heart fluttering excitedly in your chest.

"Um, just over four years," you replied. His beautiful dark eyes drifted over your face as he nodded and swallowed before looking back down at his flowers.

"You work most Fridays?"

You could feel your cheeks warming up and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. How can someone be embarrassed for being embarrassed? Jesus, you were such a mess.

"Yep," you said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and praying he didn't notice how flushed you were.

He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. If you weren't so absorbed in your own uneasiness you might have noticed he was acting just as uncomfortable as you.

When he opened his mouth to say something else, a middle aged woman pushed her cart up behind him and began to unload her groceries onto the belt. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and nervously swiped his palm over his mouth.

"Have a good night," he told you abruptly, and before you had a chance to reply he was halfway to the front door.

The following week was busier and you lost track of time. Typically, as your shift dragged on, you began to anticipate his arrival but on that particular day, you were distracted. Andy ended up having to help out on another register, it was so busy.

"You wanna come out with us tonight?" Andy asked you over his shoulder. He was closing down the extra register while you were finishing up with a young mom who had her hands full wrangling her toddler away from the candy.

"Uh, yeah, sure," you agreed absentmindedly, lifting the last paper bag into the cart. You tapped a key on your register so she could slide her card through the reader and looked over at Andy. "Where are you guys going?"

"Murray's," he replied immediately, his focus still on counting the coins in the drawer. You rolled your eyes and grinned.

"Why am I not surprised?"

It was well known Andy harbored a huge crush on a bartender there and he had been trying to work up the courage for months to ask for her number.

"Thank you, have a good night," you told the young woman, handing over her receipt with a smile. When you glanced up to greet your next customer, you felt your heart skip a beat when you were met with those dark brown eyes you had grown so enamored with.

"It must be later than I thought," you said, without even thinking twice. Surprise passed over his beautiful features as you scanned his flowers and then your nerves finally caught up with you. "I-I mean, you usually come in around the same time every week," you explained hurriedly. Andy was smirking at you from behind hot flower guy's broad shoulder and you made a mental note to punch him later.

"I didn't realize you noticed," he replied after he cleared his throat.

Oh, you idiot. You could tell you made him uncomfortable with your comment and you just prayed he didn't figure out you had been lusting after him all these months with the little observation you made.

"You always pick out the best flower arrangements, it's hard not to," Andy piped up. Relief flooded your veins for the save. Maybe you should rethink that punch. "Must be one lucky girl," he added with a mischievous wink in your direction before picking up the drawer and walking towards the office, leaving just the two of you with Andy's loaded comment hanging heavy in the air.

He took his time pulling his credit card out of his wallet, wracking his brain for something to say. His cheeks dusted with pink the longer he took to formulate a sentence.

"So... Murray's, huh?" he asked, cringing inwardly at the stupid question as he swiped his card.

You blinked, confused at the change in topic until it clicked. "Oh, yeah. He drags a bunch of us out after work sometimes because he's got a thing for a girl who works there." You gave the man behind hot flower guy a smile as he unloaded his groceries on the belt.

Your handsome stranger froze, his hand still holding the receipt midair while the gears turned in his head.

"So, you two aren't-"

"Oh, sorry, excuse me," the customer behind him mumbled when he accidentally bumped into him with his cart.

"Have a good night," you told him with a sweet smile, then quickly turned away, hoping your hair would hide your embarrassment.

"I am not playing darts with her! Don't you remember last time? She almost took my eye out!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" you laughed, shoving Courtney, another co-worker of yours, in the shoulder. There were only five of you that night, Courtney being the only other girl in your group, but you were fine with that. Over the past few years you all bonded over the shared trauma of nasty customers and terrible management to the point where you were like family, and nights where you blew off steam only brought you closer together.

"Anyone need anything? I'm heading up," Andy shouted over the live band.

"Didn't you just get a water a minute ago?" you teased, knowing full well he was looking for an excuse to talk to the bartender.

"What can I say? I'm thirsty," Andy replied with a smirk before pushing his way through the crowd to get to the bar.

"When the hell's he just gonna ask her out? We've been coming here for months," Courtney said, turning away from the bar to look at you. You took a sip from your mixed drink and shrugged.

"Probably for the best. You know if he makes things weird then we'll need to find a new spot to hang out."

She giggled and winced when the band began to sing Journey off-key. "God, these guys are... not it."

"I think it's the owner's way of making us drink more!" James shouted from across the table, the four of you dissolving into laughter. He had a good point because your drink was nearly empty.

"Why didn't you just have Andy get you one?" Courtney asked when you slid down from your barstool.

"If I did, there was, like, a one percent chance he would bring it back to me within the hour," you told her, nodding towards Andy setting up shop against the bar, his eyes trailing after the cute bartender.

It took several minutes but you were finally able to wedge yourself between other patrons and secure a refill of your drink, but when you turned around to walk back to your table you nearly ran right into someone's chest.

"Oh! Sorry, I - " your eyes widened when you tilted your head up to find those familiar brown eyes staring down at you. "It-it's you!" you finally said as the shock began to wear off. He gave you a lopsided grin and nodded.

"Joel," he offered, sticking his hand out. Joel. Joel. Joel. You rolled his name around in your head like a ping pong ball. It suited him.

You took his hand, his long fingers dwarfing yours. "I'm-"

Then he cut you off and said your name and once again, you struggled to keep the shock from your face. "Your nametag," he explained, letting your hand go and gesturing towards his own chest where a nametag would sit. "I remember."

"Yeah," you said breathlessly with a smile. You glanced around the room while people shoved past you to get to the bar. "What are you doing here?"

His smile faltered a bit and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't live too far. Had the night to myself so I came out with my brother. He's over there," Joel pointed to the opposite corner of the bar but it was impossible to see him through all the people.

"Oh, cool," you nodded and took a sip from your glass. His eyes drifted to your lips, getting lost in the way they puckered around the straw. "Do you guys come here a lot?"

He chuckled and dropped his chin shyly to his chest before shaking his head. "No, um," he cleared his throat and looked back up at you. "Was hopin' I would run into you, actually."

"Me?" you squeaked and your heart began to race. He nodded and grinned.

"Yeah. Wondered if maybe you'd-"

A huge, burly man who definitely had too much to drink shouldered past you, accidentally shoving you into Joel's chest. His arms immediately wrapped around your ribs to steady you and somehow you didn't spill anything on his clothes.

"God, I'm sorry," you mumbled, his scent making you dizzy. You always had a register between you. Never before had you been that close, noticing he smelled like he had just gotten out of the shower and it was instantly overwhelming.

"It's alright," he said, his arms still loosely wrapped around your midsection. "But I gotta get this out before I lose my nerve, darlin'."

Darlin'. Your brows furrowed and before you could reply, he spoke. "I wondered if you wanted to go out on a date sometime? Maybe a movie or somethin'? I know you work alotta nights but I -"

"You want to go out with me?" you asked in disbelief. He looked at you like you had two heads.

"'Course I do. Wasn't it obvious?" he could feel the heat creeping up his neck.

"No! I thought... nevermind, it doesn't matter," you told him, a smile pulling across your lips. "Yes, I would love to. God, if you only knew-" you stopped yourself by slapping your hand over your mouth and he quirked a playful eyebrow at you but he was too excited that you agreed to go out with him to ask you to finish your thought. He handed you his phone as you shakily typed in your number, hoping your trembling fingers didn't mess it up before giving it back to him.

"I'm gonna text you tomorrow, set somethin' up, yeah?" he asked and you nodded numbly, your mind reeling as you tried to process everything that was happening. He grinned and slid his phone back into his pocket. "Have a good night," he said, the familiar phrase making you smile before disappearing into the crowd.

"Um, who the hell was that?" Courtney questioned the second you arrived back at your table.

"I need a fucking shot first and then I'll tell you, holy shit," you said, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves with no success. She laughed and got you each tequila shots, then you spent the rest of the night telling her all about Joel the hot flower guy.

The next morning, you paid for your crimes. Your head throbbed and your mouth was dry as sand as you stumbled into your bathroom to scoop water from the faucet, desperately trying to quench your thirst. You weren't normally a huge drinker, but after your run-in with Joel, you were so nervous that you found yourself tossing back a few extra drinks than normal. Fortunately, you didn't work until late afternoon, so after you fumbled around your cupboards for some crackers, you fell back into bed. Your eyes widened when you saw a missed text from an unsaved number an hour ago.

Hey, it's Joel. It was great running into you last night. I was thinking we could go to dinner this week, if you're still up for it. What nights are you free?

"Shit," you muttered, running a hand anxiously through your hair. Now that you were sober, the prospect of seeing hot flower guy outside of work made you inexplicably nervous.

You must have typed out and deleted fifteen responses before going with I would love to! I'm free Sunday, Monday and Wednesday nights. Or we could do something after I get out of work, we close at nine.

Did you sound too desperate? You chewed on your fingernail as you read your sent text over and over, then shrugged and put your phone down. Too late now, anyway.

It took a while to get his response, but to be fair, you didn't reply to him for an hour.

I can make Sunday work.

Sunday? As in, tomorrow?

"Oh, fuck," you groaned, fully not expecting him to set something up so quickly. You needed time to mentally prepare, but of course you agreed, then quickly texted Courtney, begging for her help on what to wear and how to do your hair.

Yay!! We can talk about it at work tonight!

After you ironed out a time and restaurant with Joel, you popped two pain relievers and chugged some water, hoping to get rid of your hangover before work.

"Okay, so where's he taking you?" Courtney asked excitedly as you stocked cereal together.

"This Italian place on Westwood. Here, I looked it up," you said, pulling out your phone and showing her the menu. "Have you been there before? What do I wear?"

She squinted at your screen and shook her head. "I haven't been there but we can figure this out. It doesn't look that fancy, but you should probably wear a dress or skirt."

"Ooo, do you finally have yourself a date?" Andy asked from halfway down the aisle, clearly overhearing part of your conversation. "Hot flower guy is going to be so disappointed."

You laughed and pocketed your phone. "It's with hot flower guy," you said triumphantly. Andy's eyes bugged out of his head, confused, until you and Courtney explained what happened the night before when he was busy staring at the bartender.

"You should have told me last night! So I guess that means he really is single."

You paused and cocked your head to the side, realizing all of the sudden you still didn't know why he bought flowers every Friday.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," you replied, turning your attention back to the cereal. Andy and Courtney exchanged worried glances behind your back.

"I'm sure he's not stupid enough to buy flowers from you for another woman every week and then ask you out," Courtney said, glaring at Andy. He cleared his throat and nodded.

"Y-yeah, I mean, maybe they're for a grave or something."

You both turned to him and gave him an incredulous look.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help," he said, throwing up his hands and walking away. You bit your lip and glanced at Courtney.

"Don't worry about it. There's tons of reasons why guys would buy flowers weekly... maybe he just likes to have fresh flowers in the house. Maybe they're for his mom!"

"Yeah, good point. I bet they're for his mom," you agreed, feeling a little better as you ripped open the next cardboard box full of cereal boxes.

When you woke on Sunday morning, you were already nervous. You could have sworn your heart was slamming in your chest from the moment you opened your eyes, already overthinking your date with Joel.

You spent the afternoon texting Courtney pictures of outfits you hauled out of your closet and tossed on your bed, then decided you needed to try them on for her to get the full effect. You were sitting on your bed, wearing a light blue sundress, the last outfit you had tried on as you gathered your pictures. Your thumb quickly tapped all of the photos of you modeling your options and typed out what one looks the best? then hit send.

As you were unzipping your dress and sliding it down your legs, you heard your phone ping from your bed. You hung up the dress and pulled your sweats back on before reaching for your phone, hesitating when you saw Joel's name pop up. You felt a pit in your stomach, worried that he came to his senses and was asking to cancel, so you sat down on the bed before sliding your thumb over the screen to open his text.

You look great in everything, but I really like the pink one.

Your palms instantly broke out into a sweat and you felt lightheaded.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," you mumbled, scrolling up in your text chain before cursing and throwing yourself into your pillows to scream. In your rush to send your text, you accidentally sent the pictures to Joel instead of Courtney. You waited until you got your bearings and tried to convince yourself it wasn't really that bad, that it definitely could have been worse, before replying.

Ha, sorry. I meant to send those to a friend, but if you like the pink one, then I guess that answers my question

You stared down at your phone, anxiously waiting for his answer, which didn't take very long at all.

You could wear a paper sack and you would still look beautiful.

The grin that stretched across your face was massive. He was probably just sweet talking you and trying to make you feel better about making such a stupid mistake, but damn, it worked.

Looking forward to tonight :) you said in response, then bit your lip and flung yourself backwards on your bed. Your eyes drifted to the light pink dress hanging in your closet and you smiled.

As it turned out, the Italian restaurant was owned by Joel's brother, Tommy. You met the younger man at the host stand when you walked in the door. He had a huge grin plastered across his face and although you were an only child, you could still tell when someone was itching to tease their sibling. Tommy's eyes flickered back and forth between you and Joel, silently communicating with his brother as you introduced yourself. You managed to catch Joel shooting Tommy a warning glare before nervously resting his hand on your lower back and guiding you through the restaurant to an empty booth in the back.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" Joel asked, his dark eyes sparkling even under the dim mood lighting. You giggled and shyly looked down at your lap.

"A couple times."

Joel smiled warmly and leaned forward, his eyes trailing over the soft curves of your jaw and the way your plush lips stretched when he made you smile.

Before the food arrived, you learned a little more about him. He worked in construction, doing mostly residential but some commercial property work. He was trying to go into business for himself, which he told you was difficult but he already had years of experience and contacts in the area. He preferred to do most jobs himself or with as little help as possible because he only trusted his own work, but sometimes he did hire Tommy for a job to help his brother earn extra money.

"And in return, he lets me eat here for free," Joel finished, wiping the small smudge of red sauce from the corner of his mouth.

"That sounds like a win-win," you joked, and Joel chuckled.

"Tell me 'bout yourself. You said you been workin' at the store for four years?"

"Yeah," you nodded, pushing your empty plate to the side. "It's just meant to be temporary. I'm going to community college three days a week. Trying to get my degree so I can get a job with normal hours."

Joel hummed and leaned back in the booth. "What'dya wanna do?"

You shrugged. "I'm not sure, really. Hoping I figure that out as I go. I just know being a cashier for the rest of my life isn't for me, you know?"

"Yeah, sure," he agreed. "I could ask 'round if you want. Maybe some place is hirin' a receptionist or somethin'?"

"Oh, it's okay," you waved him off with a smile. "I appreciate it, though."

Afterwards, he took you for ice cream. You sat together outside the ice cream stand on a bench. The temperature outside was perfect and the place was mobbed. Kids ran around playing tag while other families gathered around picnic tables, laughing and telling each other about their days while you tried not to stare at Joel licking his ice cream and fantasizing about what that would look like between your legs.

"I wouldn't've pegged you for a strawberry girl," he said, nodding towards your rapidly melting ice cream.

"It reminds me of when I was a kid. My grandma liked to take me out for ice cream when she babysat me and strawberry was her favorite."

He smiled, listening to you talk about your family, getting a brief glimpse into your life, leaving him wanting more.

You thought everything was going so well. The date went perfectly. There wasn't as much awkwardness as you originally thought there would be and Joel was very easy to talk to. So when he dropped you off at your door and you invited him inside, you were surprised and somewhat hurt when he declined after a quick glance at his watch. He only kissed your cheek before telling you have a good night and backing out of your driveway, leaving you confused and a little self-conscious.

"He's probably just a gentleman," Courtney assured you the following day, "wants to take things slow and all that."

And you agreed. Once you had time to process everything, that seemed like exactly what it was, and you began to feel better.

But then Joel took you on a second date, and then a third, and he still hadn't tried to kiss you or make a move whatsoever.

"Maybe he's just rusty," Courtney offered after the fourth date and still finding yourself being shot down. "He wouldn't keep going out with you if he didn't like you."

Once again, Courtney made sense and you agreed he just liked to take things slower than you were used to.

But on your fifth date, where he took you to a baseball game, you misjudged the size of the beers they sold and you found yourself tipsier than you expected. Joel seemed really into the game but turned his focus on you whenever you searched for it, which, as the night wore on and the alcohol buzzed in your veins, became more and more frequent. You would ask him questions about how the game was played, even though your father watched baseball your whole life, just so you could listen to him talk. You looped your arm through his when the game was over and you both shuffled out of the stadium with a whole herd of drunk fans, back out into the parking lot. You tightly held onto his bicep, the feeling of his muscles under you fingertips more intoxicating than the beer, as he escorted you to his truck.

On the drive back to your place, you could feel your confidence building. Maybe he's just shy and doesn't know how to make a move. Maybe he just needs a clearer sign. Maybe he's waiting for you to make a move.

So, when he walked you to your door and he leaned in to kiss your cheek, you turned your face at the last second and locked your lips with his.

You could feel his surprise when your lips met. He froze and stopped breathing as he tried to figure out what to do, so you decided to make things easier for him and draped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and massaging your lips over his, urging him to reciprocate.

And finally, his hands flew up to your waist and tugged you against him. His mouth began to move and he crowded you up against your door. When your back made contact with the wood and his large palms squeezed gently at your hips, you moaned into his mouth. You had been dying for this for weeks and you would be damned it you were going to let it stop too soon.

Without even asking this time, you reached behind you and fumbled with your doorknob, twisting it blindly without breaking the kiss so you could both stumble inside. He kicked the door shut behind him, tongue licking at the seam of your lips while he brought one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. You granted him access, parting your lips and tangling your tongues together as he continued to walk you backwards. He opened his eyes and glanced around the dark living room quickly before pulling away and whispering one word: bedroom?

The way he said it made your knees weak and your heart flutter excitedly in your chest. You pulled him down for one more kiss before grabbing his hand and practically dragging him down the hall. About halfway to your room, his lips latched onto the crook of your neck and you slowed down, closing your eyes and twisting around in his arms so you could kiss him again. He pinned you against the wall with a groan, his thumb and forefinger clutching your jaw, prying it open so he could devour you. You hooked one leg over his hips and he let go of your jaw so he could grab the backs of your thighs and haul you off the ground.

You tugged at his hair impatiently, then gasped when he ground himself against your core, your body jolting in his arms and knocking a canvas print off the wall.

"Shit," he muttered, barely sparing the picture a glance before peeling you off the wall and carrying you towards your bedroom with your ankles hooked together at his lower back. You giggled against his mouth then squealed when he tossed you onto your bed. His hands glided underneath your dress and up your legs, slipping his fingers around the the waistband of your panties and tugging them down, pausing once he got to your knees. He blinked a few times like he was snapping out of a stupor and glanced up at you.

"Is this okay?"

"God, yes," you said, reaching behind you to tug at your zipper. You tried to shrug off your dress but his lips found yours and you quickly got distracted. You nibbled at his bottom lip while simultaneously tugging at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up over his soft stomach and stopping at his broad shoulders. He broke away just long enough to lean back and toss the shirt over his head and he was back on top of you before you could even drink him in.

You dragged your mouth over his chin, biting and nipping as you went. He groaned as you left open mouthed kisses across his jaw, his prickly beard tickling your tongue. "My dress," you whispered against his cheek before mouthing at the skin there, "take it off."

His palms slid over your shoulders, pushing the straps of your dress down while you wiggled a bit, helping move the fabric down your body. You arched your back so he could pull your dress all the way off, his breath getting caught in this throat when your nipples brushed against his bare chest.

He couldn't resist. When your dress was discarded on the floor, he sat back between your legs to admire your naked body, completely transfixed. Too much time had passed without him saying anything and you grew self-conscious, so you slowly began to cross your arms over your chest, but he stopped you.

"No," he rasped with a shake of his head. "You're so beautiful, just wanna look at you another minute."

Your cheeks flared with heat but you dropped your hands and gazed up at him, watching his eyes flicker excitedly over your body, memorizing every curve and freckle he could find. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a twitch in his pants and you glanced down at the outline of his cock through his jeans. You bit your lip and he followed your gaze, palming his erection briefly before undoing his pants.

"Oh," you whispered to yourself when you saw his cock spring free. He wrapped his hand around his thick shaft and glanced up at you as he crawled back up the mattress on his knees. "You're big," you added, unable to look away. He blushed but didn't reply. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you, this time slower. You shuddered in anticipation when you felt the tip of his leaking cock brush against your pussy and he froze.

"Shit, wait," he grumbled, sitting back on his heels before reaching for his wallet, which was still stuffed inside his jeans. You figured out the problem and leaned over to your nightstand, fishing around in the drawer until you found a condom and held it out for him. He looked relieved when he saw the little foil square and tossed his wallet back onto the ground before ripping open the condom and rolling it on.

"Sorry. It's... been a while. Wasn't exactly prepared," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The endearing confession just made you want him even more.

"It's okay, come here," you murmured, reaching your arms out for him. He grinned and fell down onto his elbows, kissing you slow and deep. When you felt him rest his tip at your entrance, you tensed up.

"Relax," he whispered in your ear. You slid your eyes shut and snaked your arms around his shoulders, gasping sharply when he pressed forward. When he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a way that made you dizzy.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered when he bottomed out, your body stretching around his girth, the sting setting your nerves on fire.

He groaned against your neck and began to rock his hips steadily, making sure to not go too fast. He could tell you were still getting adjusted but it had just been so fucking long and he liked you so much, it was difficult to hold back. He could feel the sweat collecting between his shoulder blades as he focused all his energy on going slow, and when he felt your thighs relax around his waist and your back arch underneath him, he sighed with relief.

"More," you moaned, pressing your body against his, trying to get as close as possible. He growled and dipped his mouth down to capture one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, releasing it with a wet pop and reveling in the sweet noises you made for him.

He wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you how much he thought about you, how long he wanted to ask you out, how he wanted to know everything about you, how nervous you made him with just a simple glance. But he didn't say any of that. It had been so long since he had gone on a date that he wasn't even sure what women liked anymore. So he remained silent, focusing on not coming too soon while paying close attention to your cues, memorizing what you liked based on the breathy whines in his ear and the way your fingers clutched frantically at his hair. You, however, took his silence to mean he wasn't enjoying himself and you really, really didn't want that, so you pushed gently on his shoulder, drawing his attention.

"Let's switch," you murmured, and he gave you a quizzical look. "Why don't you lay back and let me do some of the work?" you explained, nipping playfully at his jaw.

When his head settled into your pillows, watching with heavy lidded eyes as you straddled him before catching his gaze and slowly sinking down, taking every inch of his cock with a low moan, he thought for sure it would be the death of him. You looked so beautiful all spread out and full of him that he had to squeeze his eyes shut so he wouldn't come just looking at you.

Then you started riding him and his eyes flew open, his chest heaving as he watched your tits bounce and your head tip back in ecstasy and he knew he was done for.

"Wait," he rasped, grabbing your waist and stilling your hips. You stopped, swollen lips parted as you panted for air and looked down at him.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothin'," he stammered, taking a few deep breaths in before chuckling. "I'm just... I need a minute, is all."

You could see the red beginning to stain his cheeks and the look of embarrassment flicker across his face, melting your heart. Leaning down, you cupped his jaw and kissed him tenderly.

"Is that why you've been so quiet?" you asked softly, leaning back so you could look into his eyes but still holding his cheek in the palm of your hand. He nodded, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist.

"I'm sorry. I haven't been with anyone in years and I've been tryin' to take things slow with you but I think all the buildup just made it worse." You grinned and took his other hand.

"Don't be sorry. I think it's hot," you whispered, pulling his free hand down between your bodies. He splayed his hand out across your lower abdomen and you took his thumb between your fingers, pulling it down so it made direct contact with your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt the pressure and a slow smile spread across his face when he realized what you were doing.

"Yeah? Why's it hot?" he asked, drawing slow circles over your clit and watching your jaw fall open and your eyes flutter shut. Both your hands dropped to his chest, holding yourself up.

"Because," you began, then bit your lip and moaned when he picked up the pace. "Because it's l-like you c-can't control yourself. Like y-you need me so badly, you can't hold back." You knew it sounded pathetic but you didn't care. His touch was intoxicating and you needed more.

"I can't," he admitted, his eyes glued to your face, taking pride in how good he made you feel. "I can't control myself. Wanted you for so long. Been thinkin' about this for months."

You gasped and your eyes snapped open, locking onto his. "Me, too. I never thought, shit, never thought you noticed me."

"Are you kiddin' me? I noticed you the first day." Now that the truth was out there, the words wouldn't stop coming. "You were wearin' a yellow shirt and I saw these perfect fuckin' tits when you bent over. Went home that night and-"

He stopped himself, wondering if he was going too far, but you dug your fingers into his chest and urged him to continue, desperately gasping for air as his thumb applied more pressure.

"Say it," you whispered. His cock pulsed angrily inside you, begging for release.

"Went home and fucked my fist thinkin' 'bout you."

You groaned loudly and leaned back, grabbing your breasts and playing with your nipples. "Fuck, I'm close, Joel."

"Yeah? Can you ride me, baby? Wanna come with you," he begged, his voice strained. Immediately, you resumed bouncing on his cock, letting go of your tits so you could brace yourself on his chest once again.

He watched in awe as you gasped and squeezed your eyes shut, stilling for just a moment, pulsing around his length as you came, his name and curses tumbling from your lips.

He couldn't hold back any longer.

He grabbed your hips with both hands and slammed up into you, grunting louder and louder each time. And it didn't take long. You had barely recovered from your own orgasm before he groaned, his eyes trained on where you were connected, thrusting as deep as he could go while his cock throbbed inside you.

"Fuck," he whispered, his head falling back limply onto your pillow. You slumped forward and buried your face against his neck, each of you trying to regulate your breathing.

"That was..." you began, trailing off when you realized your brain was still a pile of mush.

"Better than I ever imagined," Joel finished for you, wrapping his arms around your ribs.

Regrettably, he eventually pulled out, making you both wince. You rolled over onto your back and watched as he made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. If you had any energy left, you might have shot off a quick text to Courtney, but you were barely coherent by the time he slipped back into your bed.

You didn't even need to ask if he was staying the night. He pulled you into his arms, his chest pressed up against your back when you fell asleep, completely at ease.

It could have been the beer or the sex, but you didn't hear his phone go off in the middle of the night. You didn't feel him slip his arm out from under you so he could answer the call in your living room, and you definitely didn't hear him quickly dress and leave.

It was finally Friday and you were moments away from calling off from work. The thought of facing him again made your stomach roll and your head swim.

You hadn't heard from Joel since he left in the middle of the night after you slept together, days ago. You foolishly texted and called him multiple times, but he never answered. Eventually, you got the message.

Countless hours were spent crying, then more were spent stalking around your place angrily, and a mixture of the two happened at work when either Courtney or Andy asked you about hot flower guy.

They eventually learned not to ask.

As badly as you wanted to call off, you dragged yourself into work. Andy offered to take over the registers so you could hide in the aisles stocking shelves during the hour Joel typically showed up, and you shamefully took him up on it. But when it was close to closing time and you made your way back to the front, Andy shrugged his shoulders.

"He never came."

You had a moment where you worried that something happened to him and you considered texting him just one more time, but when you got into your car that night and opened your text chain to a long list of unanswered texts, you changed your mind.

However, the next morning you awoke to a handful of texts from Joel. At first, your heart raced in your chest, but then your anger crept up and you had half a mind to just delete them. After you had some coffee and a chance to think clearly, your curiosity won and you opened the texts.

I'm so sorry

Something came up

Can you call me back?

Please let me explain

Your fingers hovered over your screen as you debated on what to say. Then you decided to leave the messages unanswered. At least for a little while. If he left you hanging for almost a week, he could wait a few hours, right?

What you didn't expect, however, was for him to show up at the store on a Saturday. He only ever came on Friday evenings. You were cashing out a customer, zoning out a bit, grateful for the distraction. When you reached for the receipt, your eyes locked with his and your pulse began to race. He was holding a bouquet of white roses and looking at you with a guilty expression. Your fingers froze around the paper momentarily until the little old lady in front of him cleared her throat and you blinked, snapping out of it and handing her the receipt with an apologetic smile.

"Hey," he said, but you kept your gaze trained down at the scanner.

"Hi."

Your hands shook as you scanned his flowers, doing your best to get the interaction over with as quickly as possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Andy at customer service notice Joel in line, watching from a distance in case you needed rescuing.

"You didn't respond to my texts," he said quietly. You shrugged.

"I've been busy," was all you said, tapping the button on the register for credit.

After he paid, you handed him his receipt and forced yourself to look at him. You could see in his eyes he looked exhausted and run down and despite how upset you were, you felt bad. But you felt even worse after he pocketed the receipt and handed you the flowers.

"They're for you."

"Oh," you said, surprised, as you looked down at the roses. "T-thank you."

Joel looked over his shoulder when a young couple began to unload their groceries on the belt. You panicked, not sure what to do or say, and then you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Why don't you take your break?" Andy offered, "I'll cover."

You gave him a shaky smile, both of you knowing full well you already had your break. "Yeah, okay." Glancing over at Joel, you tilted your head towards the front door and he nodded.

"I'm so sorry I left without sayin' anythin'," he began when you sat down together on a bench outside the store. "There was an emergency and I had to go."

"You could have texted me or left a note," you said sadly, looking down at the flowers clutched in your hands.

"I know, and I was gonna, but my damn phone died and I was in the hospital for days. I was outta town, couldn't leave, I even wore the same clothes the whole time," he rubbed his face and sighed. "And once we got back home, I wanted to explain in person what happened."

"We?" you questioned. He dropped his chin to his chest and nodded solemnly.

"I have a daughter," he confessed, and your jaw dropped in surprise.

"W-what?" you whispered softly, "why didn't you tell me, Joel?"

His eyebrows pinched together, still avoiding your gaze.

"I don't know. In the past, women haven't exactly been thrilled findin' out I come with baggage and I guess I was bein' selfish." He finally looked up and you could see the pain behind his eyes. "I was tryin' to find the right way to tell you but I was so scared of losin' you."

You shook your head in disbelief. "It doesn't bother me at all that you have a daughter, Joel," you told him, "it bothers me that you lied."

He inched forward on the bench and put his hand on your knee. "I know. I'm so sorry. It was stupid. If you gimme another chance, I promise I'll never lie to you again."

Your chest tightened and you had to look away. He was so sincere, you could feel your resolve crumbling. After a moment, you dragged your eyes back up to him and you could swear he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Is she okay?"

He blinked rapidly for a moment, surprised by your question, then nodded.

"Yeah. She's okay now. She had appendicitis. She was with her mom last week. She lives an hour outside Austin and I just went right there from your place. Scared the shit outta me," he finished with a dry chuckle. Then something clicked.

"Your daughter..."

"Sarah."

"Sarah," you repeated. "The flowers you bought every week. Were they for her?"

He smiled shyly and nodded. "Yeah. She gets nervous goin' to her mom's still. The situation is a little rocky so I always get her flowers. Whether she's goin' there or comin' back. They make her smile," he said with a little shrug, and your heart melted.

"That's... that's really sweet," you said, looking down once again at the roses he bought you. He watched you closely for a moment then sat back on the bench, scratching his chin and trying to read your mind. Everything was out in the open now. He should have listened to Tommy and just told you the truth from the first date, but he couldn't remember the last time he ever felt so strongly about someone else before.

Just when he was about to leave, wanting to give you your space to think things over, you spoke again.

"So when are you free next?"

Joel exhaled in relief, then laughed. "Tomorrow?"

You bit your lip and nodded, then leaned forward and cupped his jaw, giving him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"It's a date," you whispered before standing up. He watched you from the bench as you walked towards the front doors. At the last moment you turned around, the white roses clutched against your chest, and called out, "have a good night."

He grinned.

"Have a good night."

[heejayy]

Young and Beautiful

Nanami x black reader

Warning: none

Word count: 1.2k

You let out an exhausted sigh as you slipped your hair out of its tight bun; you'd finally finished sifting through and responding to all of your emails, as well as reviewing some documents your boss had sent you. Your eyes are dry and strained, and your fingers are cramping after hours of typing. You checked the time and it was 10:53 p.m., which wasn't too bad given that you'd previously left work much later. Ready to depart, you stood up, stretched, and began gathering your belongings before heading home. You collected your binders, slid your home computer into its case, and grabbed your heels, which you had kicked off hours before.

As you closed your office and approached the elevator, your watch chimed with a message.

Bossy pants:

Mrs. Y/l/n, please meet me at 6:30 to look over the paperwork I handed over to you. There was an error.

"Fuck me!" you muttered, feeling rage rise in your chest. This man never gives you a break; he always relies on you, and he never bothers anyone else, which is driving you mad.

"Ugh he's always bothering me he acts like he doesn't have two other assistants to go over his project with but no it has to be m-"

"Y/l/n is that you?" You froze. Every muscle in your body stiffened up; you didn't expect him to be here so late; he usually leaves around 7 p.m., so what on God's green earth is he doing here at 11 p.m?

"M-mr. Kento?" Your chest tightened as you feared he had heard your angry rant.

"Come here," your body responded to his instruction before you could even think about it. You found yourself at the doorway of his office, playing with your acrylic nails, too frightened to look him in the eye, so you looked elsewhere.

His tie was unfastened, and his hair was tossed all over the place, in direct contrast to how it had been precisely slicked back and combed that morning.

“Mr. Kento "I didn't realize you were here this late... why is that?" You asked cautiously, hoping he hadn't heard your dramatic outburst earlier.

"Had to finish some paper work, I'm assuming you did as well?" You nodded, giving him a forced smile. An uneasy silence settled over his office.

"Tell me y/n do you think I work you too much?" He clearly heard your small outburst.

"I- listen I didn't mean-"

"I made you the senior executive assistant for a reason. You're a hard worker, honest, and trustworthy. You and Suguru are the only two people I trust to oversee this floor and manage my schedule; I wouldn't assign you anything you couldn't handle."

“Mr. Kento I understand you mean well, but this is just too much at times, and I'm not saying I don't want this position; I do, and I thank you for it, but I'd like some extra help if it not too much trouble." He took a sharp breath in and pushed his chair from behind his desk, then opened a drawer and pulled out a wine bottle and two glass cups.

"Join me?" You were taken aback by your boss's casual approach toward you; he was always known to keep matters strictly business-related.

"Um sir-"

"When's the last time you had a chance to wind down or hang out with your friends?" You blinked quickly, unsure of how to answer this question.

"My friend sort of abandoned me a long time ago due to me flaking on them for work." He gave you a kind of frown. "I know exactly how that feels."

Your boss strolled over to his couch and patted the empty space next to him, "Join me?"

You tilted your head in confusion, but decided that one drink wouldn't hurt.

2:45 AM

You ended up having more than one glass, and now your cheeks are heated, and you're leaning slightly into your boss, giggling at a story he just told you.

"You don't even seem like the type to get wasted I can't believe you did that!" He chuckled, savoring the last of his wine.

"Yeah well I was young and foolish and I also had bad influences for friends."

As you rested your head on his shoulder, a comfortable silence descended over the room; perhaps it was the wine, but your mood was subdued. Your mind wandered away, thinking about how you'd become drawn into the toxic work culture and how it was draining your youth.

"Nanami i'm tired."

"Tired of what love?"

"I'm tired of feeling as if I have to work until I drop, as if even if I achieve every goal, something is missing, as if I haven't done enough because there's always someone who will outdo me." Sometimes I just want to quit and move to a remote island to be happy."

"Keep this a secret yeah, but sometimes I feel the same way." Your head snapped up.

"Really? No way!” You spoke sarcastically, he chuckled “do I seem that miserable at work?”

“No you just- you don’t seem like this is something you enjoy doing.”

“Don’t get me wrong I do appreciate having this job but if I had a chance to run I’d take it.”

“Run where?” You asked curiously. He glanced down at you with a small smile “let’s make a deal, when I make a break for it I’ll take you” you giggle feeling flustered.

“Ooo where we going?” You asked with a hint of flirting.

“Malaysia.”

Present Time

"Baby you ready?" You snapped out of your daze when your husband called for you. You placed the photo frame to the nightstand; it showed you and your husband celebrating your first anniversary on the beach in Malaysia. You were both young, happy, and much in love. To think you ended up marrying your boss, the same guy you used to gripe about on a daily basis. Now, you can't picture living without him.

"I'm almost done my love."

You're now in your 50s and still go to the same beach on your anniversary, but sometimes you wonder if you should've taken advantage of your youth and explored more instead of being locked up in an office all day.

"What's on that pretty mind of yours?" He inquired, and she wrapped his arms around your figure, rocking you back and forth.

"Nothing much, just reminiscing back to when we were younger. I feel like I wasted my youth chasing something I didn't want only to impress others, and now that I'm older, I feel like I missed out on the opportunity to be young and happy.

I wish I could rewind time to tell myself to enjoy life before it’s too late.”

"What are you saying before it's too late? We're only in our early fifties. We still have so much more to explore, and now that we're retired, we have all the time in the world, so put all this 'I'm old' rubbish out of your head and let's get ready to leave," you smiled at his attempt to cheer you up.

"Doesn't matter what age we are I will always love you."

"Nanami?"

"Yes beautiful?"

"I love you more." You cupped his face and kissed him gently, but that wasn't enough for him. Nanami gripped you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss. One thing this man knew how to well was make you weak in the knees.

"That's impossible love."

©heejayy 2024 — any reposts or translations of my works are strictly prohibited unless granted permission.

[esamastation]

Part fifty-nine of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-fix, fifty-seven, fifty-eight

-

By the end of the day Tseng has been left with answers, questions and a whole lot of sections unfelined in his original assessment to be removed as no longer applicable. Sephiroth… neither behaves nor reacts as expected, that much is clear. But that's not the most concerning thing, at all.

Sephiroth's Energy Alignment is. His cultivation is a concern. As is the fact that the man is absolutely certain that it can be taught to anyone.

There is a number of theories about what is happening to Sephiroth. Professor Hojo has one theory, the Science Department as a whole has another. Tseng himself had added a few more theories to the list, which have now been proven wrong.

Sephiroth's cultivation isn't Wutai in origin. It's similar in nature, self-improvement and self-betterment, the cultivation of your self in order to advance in your abilities is certainly part of it. But what Sephiroth is doing is taking all that to a metaphysical - or perhaps magiphysical - level. He is quite literally cultivating the energies inside himself, honing them in manner unheard of, into something no one has ever theorised.

And Tseng can't deny that it does indeed seem like it might be an Ancient doctrine. Sephiroth can already perform magical feats without Materia - and according to the man himself, he's still in the beginner stages.

"What will happen once your cultivation is complete?" Tseng can't help but ask, after the day's training and meditation is over and they're making dinner.

"I will ascend to the heavens as a new god," Sephiroth answers loftily and then laughs softly at the look Tseng gives him. "Cultivation is never complete. It doesn't have an end goal. It is a process and a journey - one you dedicate your whole life to."

"... During which you get more and more advanced in your abilities?" Tseng asks, setting aside the chopped vegetables.

During the day he's noted two things. One, Sephiroth reacts best to direct, unambiguous questions. Two, he can't resist a chance to explain. The man had also relaxed immediately when Tseng began asking those questions - and began imparting information with much greater ease.

Tseng had adjusted his approach accordingly.

"Isn't that the goal of everyone who is in progress of learning anything, to get better?" Sephiroth asks and adds the washed rice into a pot, closing the lid. "Cultivation isn't exactly a sliding scale with set points of improvements, but yes, the more you practise, the better you get."

In other words, there's no such thing as being done with Sephiroth's new practice. If the man was given leeway, he'd stay here indefinitely, training and meditating. Hmm. 

Well, it's good to know that there's definitely a way to remove the man from the volatile equation that is Shinra. 

Tseng makes a mental note to procure a permanent and suitably secluded safehouse for Sephiroth, should the need arise, and then moves onto preparing the rest of the food.

Sephiroth watches him with that smug look of satisfaction he's had on for most of the day, and then asks, "Tell me, Tseng, what do they think of all of this back at Shinra?"

Tseng glances at him. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious," Sephiroth smiles. "I know they have theories. I would like to know what they're saying."

Tseng shakes his head. "So that you can adjust your behaviour accordingly?" he asks pointedly.

Sephiroth huffs. "No, of course not. I just think it would be funny, that's all."

Tseng gives him a look, not believing a word of it. "One of the theories is that you have a case of confabulation."

Sephiroth blinks and then frowns. "What does that mean?"

"You have amnesia, you've forgotten most of your life - but not all," Tseng explains. "You remember some things and are subconsciously leaning more into those things. They take more space in your awareness and have higher importance. Your brain, unbeknownst to you, fabricates memories and knowledge around those few things, giving you a false sense of expertise in matters you probably only perceived peripherally."

Sephiroth looks taken back. "Like what?" he asks, sounding stunned.

"Home decor, fashion, Wutai martial arts, monster knowledge - tea?" Tseng points to the Wutai tea set, Sephiroth's most prized possession here, after his sword. "What little you remember you cling onto and wrap yourself around, to make it seem like you have a past, likes, habits, and preferences."

Sephiroth blinks at that, his brows arching, and Tseng adds, "Though you drank tea before, it was without such ceremony. You've expanded a minor habit into a full on hobby."

"Huh," Sephiroth says, sounding fascinated now. He folds his arms, looking at Tseng in a new light. "You really think that?"

No, not really. Sephiroth's new habits aren't just self-deluding mind-fronting in the face of his amnesia. He's far too well practised and skilled in them. It's not just the tea drinking - everything new he's doing now he does with an unnerving amount of prior knowledge.

His new talent as a teacher is the most damning of it all. It's not just knowledge - it's both expertise and experience. Sephiroth teaches like a man who's been doing it for years, who's had hundreds of students, and who both enjoys what he's doing and is very good at it. It's a mix of qualities that only time and practice can give you.

"I don't know what's going on with you," Tseng admits. "But I know it's not something you got from a simple Mako injection."

Thought he still isn't sure he'd call it necessarily Ancient knowledge. He's seen the things Aerith does without thinking, without effort, as natural as breathing. What Sephiroth is doing definitely takes effort.

Tseng still can't quite reconcile them as somehow being the same, with how fundamentally different they are. Though after today…

He's not so sure anymore.

Sephiroth hums, his expression going serious as he looks away. Then he shakes his head and offers, cheekily, "Tea, while we wait for the rice to cook?"

Tseng hums and joins him at the tea table, tugging at the knees of his trousers to keep them from stretching as he sits down. Sephiroth makes tea like an old Wutai master, pouring the first steep away and then pouring for them both. 

The tea is, of course, perfectly prepared.

For a moment they're quiet, listening to the fire crackling in the stove and how the rice pot start to bubble.

"Are they really trying to recreate what happened?" Sephiroth then asks quietly, somewhat guiltily. "With someone else?"

Tseng considers his mood and then answers honestly. "Yes. With several others. Almost the entirety of the SOLDIER program has been tested for viability, though very few suit Professor Hojo's criteria."

Sephiroth's full bottom lip draws into a line. "How many are…?" he can't seem to bring himself to finish the question.

Tseng fishes out his PHS and pulls up the report. "There have been four casualties - SOLDIER Second Class Laxey Jansen, and SOLDIER cadets Mick Rowley, Dient Wreck, Justus Owley, and Gus Fusel," he lists, watching Sephiroth's reaction closely as the man's face tightens with discomfort. Tseng continues, "There have been a number of candidates in and out of coma, too many to list. And there's one case of brain death, cadet Cloud Strife."

The teacup in Sephiroth's hand shatters to a thousand pieces.

-

>:3c

[dresden-syndrome]

26/VII-1978. State Security department No. 64, Burgas region, People's Union Republic of Bulgaria, EESU.

"Full name?" Iva Kostadinova Milcheva.

"Date of birth?" 7th of April, year 1950.

"Registration place?" City of Burgas, "Prvi Internatsional" street, **** **** **.

"Ethnicity, citizenship?" Bulgarian, citizenship of EESU.

"Employment?" European Communist Party, chairman deputy of Burgas municipal committee.

The same unchanging questions and answers, learned by heart and thrown in an emotionless bureaucratic manner. Who knows how many thousands of them Iva had to fill before; in this country, it's just a part of life. Only this time she was made to sit in what looks like interrogation room, the guards standing besides and the light of table lamp straight to her face. Trying to keep calm and still, like she always used to, just as if today is not the most horrible day in her life.

"What did you bring me here for?"

During her Party career Iva managed to cooperate with State Security quite a lot; although wary of them, she viewed them with respect rather than fear. This day, when they called her to get in the black Volga for a visit, she didn't think anything could go wrong - saying no to State Security invitations has never been an option anyway - until they cuffed her hands and turned to the unknown direction.

"You've been accused of assisting in a right-wing revisionist conspiracy against the socialist regime. Did you know that?"

Arrested. Arrested for political crimes.

It's somewhat like an accident; nobody is safe from it, everyone prays it doesn't hit close to home yet it feels like it won't happen to you right until it does. As experienced as she was, Iva couldn't yet believe that. Isn't it that only the spies and enemies end up there? How could she, who always loved her motherland more than life itself, become one?

"No. I didn't participate in anything."

There were no answers in her head, no time to plan what to say or do for a better outcome. Only one task of immense willpower. Not to cry. Not to scream out loud. Not to think of her breaking future. Stay calm. Do what they say. Even if it gets worse. Even as she feels the cold steel lock on her wrists and her eyes cover by a thick cloth.

"Take that one to cell 2-18."

As Iva exited the main hallway, held by guards by each side, into what seems to be a staircase, a horrifying scream struck her ears from below. It sounded like someone cried out in pure agony, abruptly ending with a sound of doors locked at that lower floor.

"Just what they deserve."

After a long disorientating walk through quieter upper floors, the blindfold falls, the cuffs unlock and the door shuts with an unpleasant metal bang. A cold lonely prison cell, for a couple of weeks or for the rest of her life. Nobody knows.

The nice summer day which began with a cup of strong coffee, two cigarettes and a nice walk along the beach filled with Soviet tourists and ice cream shops finally comes to an end.

Art tag @painful-pooch @prismpanic @generic-whumperz @suspicious-whumping-egg @onlywhump @whumpedydump @whumpthefifth @monarchthefirst @sunshiline-writes @project-xiii @3-2-whump @unforgivenn

[violetmuses]

Tough Days - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Title: Tough Days - A. Aretas ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Main Storyline: Former criminal Armando Aretas and Detective Marcus Burnett try to build their unexpected relationship. 🏷 @adoresmiles

====

2024

Though facing many questions or encountering different secrets over time, famous detective Mike Lowrey would now stand up as the biological father of previous criminal Armando Aretas.

Because the Miami Police Department handled operations, even Mike's longtime partner and best friend Marcus Burnett crossed Aretas as well.

After hiding overseas and safely returning to Miami, Florida, Armando would stay at home with Mike, but continued helping the known precinct.

_____

“Are you still mad at me about the campfire thing?” Marcus leaned toward Armando from his desk.

“No, but you talk too much.” Aretas took Skittles from Marcus without looking and veiled the candy

“Hey!” Upon realization, Marcus glanced around for sweets. “Can't let me enjoy shit, just like your father.”

Tossing the candy to Mike, Armando jutted his chin and headed to the briefing room.

“Catch up with your nephew right now before I call Theresa over the junk food.” Mike arched his brow toward Marcus and even mentioned Burnett's wife Theresa.

“Really, man?” Marcus immediately defends himself while trailing everyone inside.

“Go.” Mike clenched his teeth. “You survived the heart attack, but you're still my brother.”

“I know.” Sitting down, Marcus and Mike prepared themselves for work as usual. “How's Armando doing?”

“Ask him yourself. Are you scared?” Mike nearly chuckled.

“Hell no. He just doesn't express himself.” Marcus told the truth.

Armando's still learning.” Lowrey responded back this time around, sipping coffee. “Let's focus.”

“Fine.” Marcus stopped playing around while looking forward. Captain Rita Secada stands behind the podium and heads this meeting.

Another hustle is coming up. Burnett thought.

____

“Why do y'all always put Armando near the clubs?” Marcus reviewed files of their next case.

“Even I can't go anymore.” Mike answered Marcus. “Times have changed, man.”

“So we're old now?” Marcus squinted toward his best friend.

“To be honest, yeah.” Mike shrugged. “And let's just say that Armando has a better chance of catching these fools.”

“How can Armando work better than us? We've been in the game for years, Mike.” Marcus glanced between Lowrey and Aretas, curious.

“No suspicion.” Mike cleared his throat. “If you and I step foot anywhere, folks start running before we can even question people.”

“But I still don't like what's happening.” Marcus vented. “Every time we go out like that, Armando pulls some charm and he ends up getting phone numbers.”

“Networks.” Mike nodded. “It's a distraction to reach the criminals before we swarm everything.”

“Yeah, right.” Marcus casted both eyes toward the ceiling. “You're just putting Armando outside for no reason at this point.”

“I won't leave. It's still work.”Aretas finally spoke up and chime in.

“You don't even talk to the ladies, man.” Marcus judged Aretas.

“Hey, that's none of your business” Mike warned Marcus over boundaries as usual.

“It is. We haven't met anyone.” Marcus shook his head. “I want another case. Talk to Rita.”

“Shut up, man.” Mike planned to keep going, but radio signals buzzed around the precinct.

“There's a chase, let's go.” Armando revealed slightly accented English and stood up, grabbing car keys.

Given no other option, Mike and Marcus hustled to follow Aretas.

_____

“I know damn-well that Mike never taught you how to drive!” Marcus worried from the passenger seat. “Slow down, Armando.”

“Not now. Please!” Aretas punched the gas while speeding regardless. Sirens wailed in all directions this afternoon.

“Shit!” Marcus just kept yelling. “Is this motherfucker driving the Batmobile?”

“Lamborghini.” Armando name-dropped the vehicle in pursuit.

When the Lambo turned, Armando caught this chance right away and immediately stopped driving.

“Freeze!” Marcus and Armando yelled together while the AMMO squad gathered near this big-time car.

“Don't touch me, pig!” This criminal shouted once Mike handcuffed him, but Armando lowered his gun.

“Zway?” Armando then narrowed his eyes past the Florida sun.

“Hey, help me out, man! I can hook you up right now.” Zway Rodriguez lived.

“Nah, you still get on my nerves, Zway. Take him to the station.” Armando nodded to Mike once more.

“How the hell is Zway still breathing?” Marcus stood flabbergasted. “We torched his ass!”

“No.” Armando corrected. “Zway dropped from my helicopter like Mike, but I didn't know what happened afterwards until now.”

“Damn.” Marcus returned to their car. “Do you think Zway connects our new case here?”

“We'll see.” This time, Armando started driving without trouble and headed back to the precinct.

_____

By nightfall, bright lights painted almost every corner of South Beach once more.

“All jokes aside, how are you doing?” Marcus and Armando joined the back of this limousine.

“Better, I guess.” Aretas tried. “I'm not running anymore.”

“Of course not.” Marcus then revealed more truth here. “Shit might be difficult for a while, but we got your back now.”

“Thanks.” Armando nodded, ready to handle business.

“We look good, but don't act up tonight. I'm still around.” Marcus glanced near Armando before entering the club.

Ignoring Marcus, Armando recognized security first.

“Sup, man?” One guard dapped up Aretas while standing between overhead neon lights. “What are you doing with Burnett?”

“It's another case.” Armando whispered. Even Marcus nodded, impressed.

“Damn.” That guard shook his head. “Who's the culprit now?”

“Where's Spark? I need to catch him before the drop hits.” This large-scale supply of drugs would funnel Miami soon.

“VIP waiting on our second floor. Get his ass, all right?” The guard pointed, leading directions for Armando and Marcus.

“Got it.” Aretas took charge and Marcus followed, ready.

______

“That's Spark? He's not special.” Marcus chuckled near Armando.

Spark wore this knockoff designer outfit as people gathered around the VIP section.

“The Aretas legacy is thriving. Hello…” Spark barely introduced himself before yelling woke up this venue.

“Hands up!” The AMMO squad pulled up once more, led by Mike and Rita.

_______

Sooner than later, red and blue overcasts brightened Miami.

At long last, Spark met the patrol vehicles for his crimes and another righteous bust threw down.

“Good job, Armando, but I still have a question for you.” Marcus asked.

“Yeah?” Aretas looked toward Burnett.

“Are you ever coming by the house? We don't bite.” Marcus invited Armando to see his family.

“Maybe.” Aretas shrugged and left the scene with Mike as Marcus returned home.

Progress is better than nothing.

[wiredaughter]

Outbreak

××

allison cameron×robert chase ☆ zombie apocalypse ☆ 1008 words ☆ ao3

@augustwritingchallenge day 4: zombie apocalypse @aug-kissed week 1: blow a kiss

Doctor Allison Cameron squints at the whiteboard in House's office. Extending ecchymosis, low grade fever, rash. It doesn't entirely seem like a case but House is, if to be believed, consulting with the federal government; which makes it a case. Of course, he's not around to explain why the patient is at PPTH instead of some blacksite if that's the truth. She exits the room, it's not her job to know why anymore.

The ER pulls her from her job trajectory considerations easily, there seems to have been a highway wreck involving at least six vehicles and she spends the morning up to her elbows on life altering injuries and advanced life support. She doesn't think about the diagnostics team again until she chats with Foreman in the lift to the cafeteria and learns the patient went after a phlebotomist with teeth and nails, making House wonder whether they should add aggressiveness to the list or the patient is just a bit of a prick.

She thinks about it, vaguely, during her lunch with Chase but ultimately doesn't bring it up until they're walking back to their respective stations. Good choice too, going by his general disinterest in the matter.

‘It's irregular, is all, to have the patient here, don't you think?

There's resignation mixed with admiration in the look her boyfriend gives her, and a hint of selfdeprecation in his smile. ‘How is a government consult meant to compel me more than a gun to his head, again?’

Cameron shrugs, stops to kiss him quickly. ‘It just seemed interesting. I’ll see you later.’

As she walks away, she turns in time to see him blowing her a kiss. Yes, her life's changed ever since resigning from the diagnostics department and it hasn't always been easy, but she's excited to let someone in again. Doesn't mean everything's got to change, she thinks, back in House’s office, this time with most of the team assembled. There's more symptoms now, hyperpyrexia, necrosis, erythrocytosis, battle sign. Transmissible = BITES is underlined several times. They've quarantined the floor the patient is being held in, and have anyone who's been in direct contact with him in isolation.

‘Polycythemia vera,’ she suggests, more to get the ball rolling than as a real answer, being that she hasn't seen the patient at all.

‘No hypertension,’ Kutner objects. ‘It's dropping steadily, actually.’

‘How's his spleen?’

‘We're waiting on the test, but palpation suggested no abnormalities.’

‘How about a different neoplasm. Essential thrombocythaemia?’ Thirteen checks the file. ‘Plateletes were high too.’

‘It could fit, but there's no cyanosis…’

She trails off when House looks ready to rule on it, but the door opens before he can, to reveal a harassed looking Chase, still on OR scrubs holding his pager up. ‘You can't page me, House, you're not my boss.’

Instead of answering, House raises a brow as he feels for something on his desk. On cue, Chase's pager goes off. Cameron exchanges a look with Foreman, who looks ready to go back to the differential. Following their cue, Chase looks at the board, almost involuntarily, frowns at what's written there. ‘If you have to page me, can it be for something other than Resident Evil roleplay?’

‘That's your diagnosis?’ House sounds exasperated. ‘Our patient is a zombie?’

‘It's how it always starts, the outbreak. Fever, necrosis, head trauma… Biting.’

‘Thank you, for illustrating exactly why I fired you.’

Chase gives Cameron a look that questions her willingness to listen to this before setting his pager down on House's desk and making for the door. Later, she mouths, and he gives a short nod before exiting. He's back before anyone can comment, wide eyed oh shit expression replacing his previous eyeroll in progress. ‘Tell me Taub is in on the joke?’

‘He went in for an NCV, I told you there's no jo-'

House's words get drowned by gunfire. Cameron moves to where Chase stands, pulling him out of the most direct line from the door to House, guessing whatever this is it's probably House-related. Again. The uniformed men that barge in after a blood splattered Taub don't shoot at anyone, though. The leader pulls down his mask.

‘Doctor House?’ It's not really a question, as he continues speaking directly at him without giving him the chance to direct his attention anywhere else. ‘Your assistance is required on site now, until the situation is handled. This your team?’

House nods, eyes burning holes through Chase’s head like he's jinxed him somehow. The man, who still hasn't introduced himself, talks into his comm to coordinate an extraction as his men exit. Cameron takes the chance to peek out the door, to see twitching, bloodied bodies strewn across the floor. She steps back, horrified, to take Chase's hand. The words zombie outbreak play on her head in his voice.

‘So,’ House leans forward on his cane, holding Chase’s pager up looking entirely too satisfied for someone who just dismissed what seems to be the working theory. ‘In the team, or out?'

Chase squeezes her hand, gives House an unimpressed look and snatches it back. ‘Unless you know someone else with over sixty hours in Deadly Silence, in.’

‘I have 100% completion in Deadly Silence’ Cameron lets her calf slide against Chase's in the chopper after an incredibly short briefing by phone, her words made private by the noise around them.

‘Your government is actually bioengineering zombies and your move is proving my expendability?’ He holds his chest in an exaggerated fashion, pressing their knees together.

‘Competition breeds progress.’ Her tone is too affectionate for her words to have any meaning.

Chase leans in, like he's going to kiss her but thinks better of it, considering their surroundings and the ongoing ‘situation’ that spans half the continental states if the information hasn't changed since they took off. Instead, he settles for an air-kiss. Not her, not now. She pulls him by his improbable tie, locking their lips for what might be the last time if the zombies are really at the gates.

[bumblekastclips]

KYLE CROUSE: Got a question from E-200 Paragon. "Regarding Shadow's out-of-character behavior during the Metal Virus arc of IDW, with the idea being that you intentionally did this yourself and pinned the blame on Sega's mandates when people called you out over it: Are there still mandates for Sonic the Hedgehog, like the ones made after the Archie Incident, and if yes, what are some that you can publicly disclose?" What- what 'Archie Incident' are we...? I'm like, 'what Archie incident?' It's even capitalized like it's a- like it's a thing? [stutters] Is this like the Slap?

IAN FLYNN: I just wanna know if you have a permit to carry a question that loaded. KYLE: [laughing] I mean... should we start digging now? IAN: [giggles] Uh, as we've said before on the show, the mandates have always been because they are the licensing directives. Every company out there has guidelines on how their licensed products are to be used. And that- those guidelines can shift over time, and they can be implemented by- in different ways, depending on whoever's head of the department. So yes, there are quote-unquote "mandates," because that's how businesses work. Do we have like, a laminated sheet of the Ten Commandments? "Thou shalt not have Sonic shed a tear"? No, but there are guidelines that Sega provides with their individual feedback per project. KYLE: And also, they look at the projects before they are published, and, uh... provide feedback and also say, "nope, you can't do that," or "how about you do this instead," or "here's an idea, do that." Y'know? This is a collaborative process. It doesn't just, like... Sega commands you to do things and you just do them, this is a thing. It's a thing, Ian! It's a thing! It's a creative thing! So... yeah.

----- TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It's just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don't like an answer, you don't have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It's all just for fun! ----- This question was requested by @nintendoni-art! Do you want a specific question transcribed and posted? Send the question, the episode date, and time stamp to my ask box! Or if you just want questions about a certain character, send me their name and I will see what I can do!

[cordria]

I work in a school-adjacent field right now, so my job is tied to the school year. I've worked there for about a year, and my contract is up. Had to schedule a meeting with the boss, where I'd either be offered another year-long contract or be released.

I really really wanted another contract. I like this job, it has health insurance for my kids, I get paid really well, and it offers superb vacation time. Me - being me - overthought the hell out of it. I spent weeks curating data as to why I should be retained for another year. I had spreadsheets. I had presentations. I had data at my fingertips for any eventuality.

New contract was the ultimate goal. I was going to ask for a 1-2% raise, depending on how the meeting went, but I was perfectly fine with nothing.

Head into the meeting, and it doesn't take more than a few minutes to realize something is very amiss...

He's got zero desire to look at my data. No asking questions about what I'd been doing. Nothing. He's just... talking about his company. His plans for its future. How I fit into those plans.

And I realize - he's got zero plans on releasing me. He's talking to me about the reasons why I shouldn't leave. Why I shouldn't allow myself to be poached.

Mentally, I sorta check out of the meeting because I hadn't prepared for this. I can't ask for a 2% raise. I'll look like I don't know my worth, and that can be a death-knell for a woman. You'll never again get a great contract if male bosses think you don't know what you're worth and can't stand up for it. I need to be at 3-5% above COLA. And I just saw the COLA numbers, but I can't for the life of me remember them! COLA coulda been anywhere between 1% and like maybe 7%. I can't just guess.

Boss just keeps talking while I'm scrambling. Barely paying attention to him and answering on autopilot. And then he takes a tangent that drags my mind off of numbers. Asks me about my supervisor.

My supervisor is... nice. You know those teachers in school where the system worked well for them, and they like the system, and they can't imagine the system doesn't work for someone else? Those teachers where, if the system isn't serving you, the only logical reason for that is lack of effort on your part? Yeah, she's one of those.

My job is literally to challenge those systems. She's nice, but we butt heads a lot because she doesn't see why I'm so set on changing something that works so well, no matter how many ways I've tried to explain it to her or what research I've handed her.

I'm trying to pussy-foot my way around answering the questions from my boss. I can't throw her under a bus - especially since she's one of the nicest, most generous people at this office - but I also am trying to be honest. She's throwing a monkey wrench in what I'm doing. She's making my work harder, and it's already hard since schools and teachers hate listening to 'your old way of doing things isn't working so well'. So I've totally lost track of trying to figure out COLA. Talking through this puzzle is taking up my brain.

I musta done fine, because eventually he pulls out my contract. Tells me I'm embodying the future of what he wants my department to be. Says he'd like to put me on 'management track'. Preferably to take over my supervisor's position at this point next year. More responsibility. Trying out 'mentoring' some of the other staff I work with.

I'm... not sure how I feel about that. I've never been in the 'boss' track, other than some random shift-lead positions at fast food joints. I'm not exactly management material. I'm one of those people who do best when given a gentle nudge in the direction you'd like me to travel, give me free rein to implement data and research, and stand back to watch the positive chaos unfold. That actually seems like the thing boss likes about me best.

He offered me a good raise. I was very off-foot and didn't argue with it, but probably should have. Looked it up - was 5% above local COLA, so I'm happy. Reasonable contract, but I probably could've snagged another 2-3% for this management track nonsense had my brain been wired right. So I signed it, handed it back.

Now I got 'leadership' training four days over the next two weeks as I learn more about this management track he's wanting me on. I figure it if doesn't work out of me, I can always just say so. Then he can choose to keep me in a regular position or release me at the end of this contract. If nothing else, I'm staring at a binder full of data that I wasted a lot of time on that shows why someone else might want to hire me.

Might as well give this mess a try - right?

[icelessly]

Diagnose Me: Direct Message

Chapter 8

Previous ♥︎ Masterlist ♥︎ Next

People aren't always as they seem, but even the words directly from one's subconscious don't paint a picture bright enough to understand someone and the entirety of their complexity.

Real Time

12:04 P.M.

Tuesday

He was sitting on a stone bench by the fountain, poised and elegant, lost in thought. He always carried himself with a certain dignity, and even from afar you could tell he was ethereal. Indeed, it was Dottore, the man you fell in love with at first lecture.

You chuckled bitterly to yourself, knowing it was an odd pairing. Dottore was endlessly fascinated by biomechanics and the potential of the human body. He was well versed in many different fields of science despite not being much older than yourself. He was a genius. He was incredible. And you were majoring in creative writing. He'd revolutionize the world some day; you were sure about that.

There were thousands of possibilities, millions of outcomes, and the only one you could think of was ending your relations with Dottore here. You didn't want to, but you were beginning to feel as though you'd never be good enough for someone like him. He wouldn't explicitly state it, but maybe that's why he didn't look at you the same way. Maybe he couldn't even fathom the possibility.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of his voice, deep and inquisitive, "You're here, Y/n."

As you awkwardly sat down beside him, you mumbled, "Yeah."

"Speak up, now, there's no need to be shy."

"What am I supposed to say?"

He hummed, "What ever it is that's weighing on your mind."

You hesitated, to which he ubruptly flicked your forehead.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"You took too long to answer."

You rolled your eyes, "I was collecting my thoughts."

"On the contrary, the look on your face suggests you were spiraling."

"Are you a mind reader now?"

"Perhaps just for you."

Your heart stopped, just for a moment such that you couldn't breathe nor look away from him.

He said, "Your thoughts show on your face like an open book. Is that common for creative writing majors?"

Oh, was that what he meant? You had to admit you were a little disappointed.

"No, I don't believe so," you said, sighing. "But enough about me. You said you'd tell me what's going on with FatuiTech."

"As you're aware, the company is undergoing a lawsuit. One of my, let's say duller colleagues, did not go through the proper procedures before distributing an experimental pharmaceutical. In case you're wondering, it's the same one that was recalled last year because it didn't meet administrative approval."

"Were you involved?"

"As if I'd be so foolish to allow that to happen. It was under a completely different department, but legally it doesn't matter; the whole company is liable."

"That's a relief to hear. I'm glad you weren't a part of it. It was all over the news the side-effects people were experiencing."

"Yes, it's been quite troublesome for the rest of us."

"You're not off the hook yet."

"What do you mean."

You huffed, "If the explanation was that simple why didn't you tell me from the beginning. You took such a needlesly roundabout route like you always do. What if I had decided not to hear you out and simply declared you complicit."

"I prefer not to associate myself with people who make quick assumptions without thoroughly thinking it through. Those people are prone to folly."

For the first time he seemed to really ponder your question. You were so used to quick and shrewd responses that his sudden rumination threw you off balance.

"People aren't test subjects, and everyone can be foolish from time to time. Would you care if we stopped talking with one another because of something that could've easily been clarified?" It was a genuine question on your part.

After a while, he lifted his head out of thought, "I suppose I'd be disappointed if that were to occur."

"Oh," you couldn't help the dejection forming in your throat.

"You know, Y/n, you always point out perspectives I hadn't considered. Perhaps because our fields of study are vastly different, but you understand things that I don't."

You laughed, "Is that why you keep me around?"

Dottore lifted your chin with his index finger and thumb, and you quickly found yourself locked in his gaze. His eyes, ruby as sunset, a twinkling horizon, were staring past your complexion to something deeper. Your face began to flush, but his remained completely passive.

"If you were my pet I wouldn't have asked for you to listen to what I had to say."

12:37 P.M.

End

Taglist

@jellyfish-6 @zannivrs @lxry-chxn @pinktrouble @whore-of-many-hot-men @monochromaticelliot @steruberry @thomawifey @jinxnotpowder

[dalt20]

Tooning In 12. Greg Bailey part 3 of 10

DL:So it says on your IMDb that you directed 52 episodes of a cartoon from CiNAR called We Are the Dogs in 1985. What was that?

GB:I have no idea! I started working at Cinar in Feb. 1992. I never heard of that dog show.

DL:Oh ok. Somebody musta vandalized your account. Moving on, Starcom the U.S. Space Force for DiC and Coca Cola

GB:I remember Space Force at DIC but never heard of Coca Cola

DL:They were the syndicator of the show.

GB:I didn't know that!

DL:They had a television department called Coca Cola Telecommunications. They had a relationship with DiC during The Real Ghostbusters until the film Ishmel flopped at the box office. Causing DiC to leave the partnership.

GB:Was DIC working on Ishmel? I don't know anything about that. I am not really aware of the property. Why did they leave the work relationship over the film or did Coca Cola close up their department? Sorry I guess I have more questions than useful answers.

DL:No, DiC wasn’t working on Ishmel but yes they left their work relationship over the film.And also I'm glad you ask for answers on my knowledge.

GB:Do you know why they left over the film? It was a live action film wasn't it. I was in Japan in those years so there are a lot of things that I seem to have a lack of knowledge about what was happening on this side of the world in those years. Especially in entertainment. It took me years to see films like Robocop after hearing everyone in the US talk about them all the time.

DL:It was because their deal was soured because Coca Cola was losing money from the film, a big loss. And they sold the film distributor Columbia Pictures to current owner Sony. Plus it was thought that DiC was eying a merger with Coca Cola.

GB:OK, I sort of understand now. I will have to ask around about it to see if anyone knows about it other than the executives. I believe this flop happened around 1987 if I see it correctly on Google in my quick look. DIC really went through a big upheaval at that time so it may be related. Jean Charlopin split up with Andy Heyward about that time. DIC Tokyo went with Charlopin and part of the split said that some work would be sent to DIC Tokyo for a season or 2 before DIC LA went off and did their work elsewhere. There was a lot of activity at the executive level and that ended my gig in Tokyo as well. The whole art department in LA also broke up and people went their own ways.

DL:Yep, that is correct.The ALF cartoons for Alien productions and NBC?

GB:I don't think I saw any Alf shows after they left DIC or did they end at DIC. Also Saban was part of the 3 way ownership at DIC. He bought out the music rights that DIC had and moved his company back to France. DIC really had no library to fall back on and soon had no more shows. Heyward had a lot of debt. 80 million seems to stick in my head right now and it doesn't sound like much now but with no library did it really have any value. Heyward promoted his golfing buddy Mike Moliani from director to an executive position. Mike over the years that I was there directed some pretty bad shows that were also very disorganized and had a lazy kind of pre production work done in LA. That's what I was saying last time that I would jump to do shows by Raynis because his shows were so great even if they were more challenging. The Mike Moliani directed shows were not interesting to work on as an artist and animator. It was ironic, jumping ahead 20 years later, the company I worked at Cookie Jar Toronto also bought out DIC and spent a lot of money for a company that still had no library. But I get ahead of myself.

DL:yeah. Saban bought the foreign rights to the shows only to sell them to C&D, the company of Jean Chalopin. Some jackass move.

GB:I don't know that it is a bad thing to have the rights. That's how animation companies make money. It was just questionable what Andy Heyward had after buying DiC without any rights to the music or any of the shows they made. Anyway, I am not the expert on all the executive dealings at DIC and I'm sure a lot of people have more insight than I do about that. So if Saban bought and sold the film distribution rights just to hold onto the music rights it sounds like he might have made a good financial deal pretty quickly. Sort of like flipping some real estate in a hot market.That must be how Charlopin had the rights to Gadget when they made the live action movie a decade ago.

DL:Yeah. And DiC brought Saban to court fighting with them about selling them to their former shareholder where they duke it out until it was settled in 1991 with Saban owning the rights to the pre 1990 DiC library.Revoking it from Jean Chalopin.

GB:That's funny. I believe Charlopin and Saban were old business partners at DIC France pre-LA days. I never heard that there was any bad blood between them. So I guess Saban just licensed the rights to Charlopin to make the live-action Gadget. I think they made a new animated series as well about that time. I didn't see the movie. One day I was listening to a culture critic talking about movie sequels. He said the worst movies are live-action movies based on animated tv shows. He said the Gadget movie was the worst one of those. So I guess he didn't like the movie much. I remember Bruno Bianchi's and Charlopin's names on the poster. Maybe Saban's name was there too but I didn't pay attention. I never met Saban but I had met Charlopin a few times in Tokyo just to be introduced basically.

DL:Actually they were as Saban would compose the soundtrack to Ulysses 31 and Mysterious Cities of Gold.Saban was not a producer on the film, but Chalopin and Heyward were.So how was the founder of DiC?

GB:What do you mean? "How was the founder"?

DL:Jean Chalopin,like how he was.

GB:Like I say I was only introduced to him briefly. He was kind of a nice-looking and amiable person from my brief meeting. He looked like someone very comfortable in his skin and well-suited to the jet-set lifestyle he was living. He was still quite young then. I would guess in his late 30's/ maybe 40 so he was an early boomer. I saw him last around the time the company was breaking up and he had come to Tokyo I guess to meet with Katayama and Bruno and discuss what the plan was.

DL:C.O.P.S. for Hasbro?How was working on that show?

GB:I think everyone in DIC must have worked on that series. It was another syndicated series of 65 shows so as usual they went through the studio at breakneck speed and the quality of syndicated shows was much lower than network Saturday morning shows. I didn't love the show much because it was kind of macho adolescent stuff with not much story value and no humor. I guess if you like that kind of thing it was fine but I never really liked the natural human-looking animated characters. It just looks like bad life drawing or something and makes me remember my early days animating at Hanna Barbera. I just read a byline when I searched on Google to refresh my memory. "Cops in 2020". So I guess it was a future cop show inspired by Robocop. Part of the pre-production work was done in Canada. In Ottawa I believe, because DIC had started doing some pre-prod work in Canada by that point.

DL:Yes, it was inspired by Robocop.As Andy would try to copy trends at the time.

GB:There was some kind of immoral feeling working on shows that were glorified commercials for toys. It did weigh on you and destroyed your belief that animation should be a good thing for kids, not just something to exploit them or make them bug their parents for more terrible cheap toys.A salesman always proposes a show that was a success last year by someone else. It is counter to shows created in a more creative environment where copying something already done would be at the bottom of your list of what to do. Does that make sense? In later years working in development I would see a lot of ideas or suggestions from the sales team about making a show just like Spongebob, or just like whatever was a success last year. It is really anti-creative. But syndication was just selling toys that Hasbro was making. I guess I helped to sell a lot of toys at DIC.

DL:So how did you feel when you left DiC Entertainment in 1988?

GB:I thought my career would end because it would be hard to replace the job with something as high-paced and rewarding. It was also a matter of leaving a very financially rewarding position because we got paid well. I was going to have to leave Tokyo, which I liked a lot. Although in another way it was time for me to leave because I had put my family through 4 years of living out of a suitcase. It was time for things like school for my daughter and living somewhere that my wife could work and get on with her career. Living in Tokyo was definitely making that impossible. I didn't think I would find another job as interesting as DIC but I had learned a lot of useful skills and information about how to control a production and get more input into the show in a professional manner. A lot of skills that were not known in Canada at the time.

DL:So you worked on The Raccoons,your first Canadian production you worked on.

GB:Yes, the first after coming back from Tokyo. I was living in Ottawa for the first time and Hinton Studios was doing Raccoons. I never became much of an expert on it because my time there was short-lived before I went to Cinegroupe in Montreal. I did some Raccoons and I just started on Ren and Stimpy for a week or 2. I also did part of a storyboard on Where's Waldo in that period I believe. I don't remember how I found that job though.

DL:So at Hinton Studios, were they drawing dirty pictures of the Raccoons characters according to rumors?

GB:What?! Animators never do that.

DL:Well TV tropes said so and i just want to know to clear up rumors,that's all.

GB:I always thought those noses on the bad guys Cedric and Cyril looked kind of obscene all the time. It would be difficult to make them do anything too dirty with those flaccid noses. Come to think of it they all had droopy noses even the Raccoon characters except the females. Must have been from all those dirty scenes they were involved in that never made it onto TV that left their noses limp.

DL:Ah. so you work on the Ren and Stimpy pilot, Big House Blues. Were you working with Bob Jacques?

GB:I think I was supposed to but I only did about 2 weeks and then had to leave.

DL:How was the experience and did you like the program?

GB:Too brief to get much out of it. I was pretty excited about the design and method they were using to work. I loved the show of course and often wished I had had more time on it. The model sheets were really great and the show felt really fresh at the time.

DL:So when did you get to go to Cinegroupe in Montreal?

GB:I left to go there right after I did Ren and Stimpy for a few weeks. I was probably working the next week in Montreal and commuting back and forth to Ottawa on weekends. I had worked at Cinergroupe before going to Tokyo for a few months on Ovid and the Gang as an animator. Anyway, when I left Hinton Studios for Cinegroupe it must have been 1988 or 1989.

DL:So what was Ovide and the Gang?

GB:Ovid was a co-production with Belgium. It was an original series based on a comic book style of characters. I can't even remember what the point of the series was or the relationships between the characters. They were very cute-looking characters though and the studio was animating the whole series with about 5 animators and 5 assistants. When I went there after Hinton they were doing a few series. L'Aventure de L'ecriture a show about French grammar and a series Little Flying Bears which is just exactly as the name implies. Everything was little something or other in those years. The bears had dragonfly wings. These flying bears were saving the environment. But I guess they didn't succeed because it's still a mess. But saving the environment was big in animation in those days.

DL:So by the way, did you have cable in the late 90s early 90s? Because these shows were broadcast on The Family Channel.

GB:I do remember them on TV but don't know if it was Family Channel or CBC. I probably only had basic cable at home. I'm not sure when the series finished. Oddly it was a co-production with Yugoslavia. Unfortunately, a few years into production the Yugoslavian war began and that turned into a bloodbath. I remember before the war everyone was talking about what a fantastic place it was over there with all those people living in harmony. The breakup of the country and the massacres just went on for what seemed like more than a decade. Anyway, the show kept getting held up because the co-producing company was telling us about the tanks sitting out in front of the company and it just got impossible eventually. It's weird how all this bad stuff is going on behind the scenes in these innocent cartoons on TV.

DL:Oh yeah. Well can’t believe that the Yugoslavian war was tied to the production trouble of Little Flying Bears.Also before I go, one more question. How was it when you went to work for CiNAR and Young Robin Hood for Hanna Barbera and France Animation.

GB:I heard once that the producer over there wanted to have Cinegroupe's production money payment sent to him in a location in a neighboring country. But that didn't sit well with Cinegroupe. I don't know if they suspected he would run for it with the money and get the heck out of the way of that approaching war. It seemed like the country was unfolding in slo mo at that point. This was before the war in Kosovo and Serbia. The co-producer was in Zagreb. It was a pretty city that held the international animation festival every second year alternating with Ottawa.

DL:Interesting.

GB:Robin Hood was fine. The first job there was on White Fang. I was an animation posing supervisor. Then I did timing direction on Robin Hood. Robin Hood went by pretty smoothly and it was nice working in a familiar US production method. I was able to bring in some of those timing skills from Tokyo into the job.And then I directed a few specials on Munch. Murmel Murmel and Boy in the drawer.I think that is the correct order of work at Cinar. It was called Crayon Animation in those days but it was owned by Cinar.

DL:Wait CiNAR was called Crayon animation?Also before then CiNAR was a dubbing studio before it started to produce its own productions in 1988.

GB:Yes, the animation part of the company was called Crayon Animation. Cinar existed at a different location downtown. They did the post-prod mixing and sound work and recording at Cinar. And the executive offices of Ron and Micheline were downtown at Cinar. The animation studio Crayon was in an old industrial warehouse space in St Henri in the mid-19th century industrial part of Montreal. If you've seen the movie or read the book The Tin Flute that is where it was. Lots of rail yards and on the old Lachine canal.Yes they did the dubbing and all sound work at Cinar headquarters downtown. They owned the building there, which was originally an old convent. Later on we moved out of the Crayon building and moved to a new office tower around the corner from the Cinar headquarters and sound studio.Ron Weinberg would often talk about how he started Cinar by driving around the US with a trunk full of videotapes of the movie Wicker Man and he would sell this tape everywhere. I don't know how he did that but that was the story. I don't know if I ever saw Wicker Man but at Burning they used to burn wicker furniture in memory of that movie.

[genericpuff]

Do you have any current voice claims for the Lore Olympus : Rekindled characters you've introduced so far?

Also, kinda just curious, you can ignore this one: Are you slightly worried about Rachel finding out you're reworking her story, seeing how she doesn't take criticism well?(genuine q)

LOVE your art work, btw!

Fun question, but unfortunately I don't really have any sort of neat answer to it. I don't tend to think in the realm of voice acting/live action when I think of the characters I write, it's just not really where my brain goes. When I read scripts internally to myself, they tend to just be default imaginary voices that I use. The technical sound of the voice itself isn't so much important to me as the line delivery and how they communicate (so like, 'voice' in the sense of writing rather than auditory). So like, how often do they pause, do they use lots of filler words, do they breathe heavily in between sentences, do they speak in short or long sentences, do they get to the point or speak in run-on sentences, do they speak eloquently with bigger words or do they prefer fast-paced conversation with slang, do they have a stutter or any other vocal block/impediment, do they approach conversations with cockiness or modesty, that sort of thing.

More often than not my inner voice when reading dialogue to myself just tends to be variations of my own voice lmao My brain doesn't have much imagination in that department unless I'm imagining a specific person from the very beginning (so if you ask me to imagine Will Smith's voice in my head while reading dialogue, yeah, I can do that just fine, but if you ask me to do it in reverse by assigning a specific person's voice to the characters I write, I'm just gonna draw a blank LMAO) The only other voice that pitches in on the reading process is my husband when he's doing dialogue exchanges with me (so basically I'll read a few lines of dialogue to him, which will turn into him going "lol imagine if it went like this..." which then turns into us doing casual improv, it makes for a great way to come up with organic conversation or re-write punchlines). But my husband's voice definitely doesn't pop into my head when I'm reading my dialogue to myself, again my brain just automatically defaults to my own mind voice.

If there's a specific actor you imagine when you read Rekindled, though, I'd love to hear it!

Regarding question #2, yes and no? I'm less worried about her (because legally there's nothing she can do about it, it's literally just fanfiction lol) and more worried about her fanbase, people call ULO toxic all the time and yet it's the fanbase who have historically done all the shitty things like doxxing people, witch-hunting, dogpiling, bullying, etc. so I'm basically just waiting for the day that I get a flurry of asks or hate directed my way and I can go "yep, they found out about Rekindled" LMAOOO

But on the other hand, it is just on Tumblr and it's not even really parodying LO, it's basically any other AU fic with the exception of it being in comic form. Like, if someone found an excuse to bully Rekindled on the basis of it just existing, it would be pretty hypocritical (and hilarious) when AO3 is full of LO AU's from people who detest what LO has become just as much as I do. As much as Rekindled was born out of criticism, the comic itself is still just its own thing, telling its own story, none of what's in it is meant to directly mock LO or even outright criticize it - it's just aiming to take things in a different direction than the one LO took, with the motivation of giving the fans who have dropped off LO due to its lowering quality some catharsis (and a new reason to look forward to Saturdays). I think the pettiest thing about Rekindled on its own is that it updates 15 minutes before LO does LMAO

Of course, all that stuff about Rekindled not generating hate will only last if I stick the landing. So far so good, but we'll see how it goes as it diverges further away from OG LO (mostly with the plot as it drops a lot of the things that seemed to be used as distractions especially in S2 onwards, and we're not even really tackling S3 because of how much of a mess it is; we're still very much in the 'prologue' section of it where a lot of it is closer to the OG version, but we'll start seeing more diversions as it goes on).

So, yeah, I am a little worried sometimes about the "what ifs", but it's not a constant fear that lives in my head rent-free. I was definitely more anxious about it when I started, but so far it's been great and I know ultimately that when people do act out in my inbox, often times they're just fundamentally misunderstanding what my intentions are or the fact that I'm not trying to make them hate LO or "dethrone Rachel" (though I do make jokes about that LOL) I'm just doing what many artists have done before me - expressing myself and doing something in my own way with the disappointment I've felt over the past year due to LO.

Frankly, I also don't think any of the problematic stans of LO are even on Tumblr. I find most of the toxicity so far has been on reddit and Facebook (°ー°〃) So I think Tumblr has made for a very safe platform to post it to. I think if it were on Webtoons it would ABSOLUTELY generate a lot more hate, there are other H x P comics that have nothing to do with LO that get harassed by the LO fans just because it exists and happens to be about H x P (as if Rachel herself invented the myth).

[hotchners-wifey]

Comfort| Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader ---------------------------------------------------- Summary: After a case gone wrong you beat yourself up about not being able to save your victim Aaron tries his best to comfort you. ---------------------------------------------------- Warnings: mentions of dead bodies, murder !I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF!

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Nothing about the profile the team had given to the local police felt right to you, something was missing. Every time you thought about the profile it felt like something was wrong, you turned to Emily to bring this up. "Emily I fell like we're missing something, something about the profile doesn't seem right." She turned to look at you with a questioned look on her face, "What do you mean Y/L/N, we profiled that he'd try to intimidate us by threating to kill Erin but he won't do it." You nodded but still felt like something was wrong. At that point the rest of the team walked in the conference room lent to us by the local police department.

Garcia calls as soon as they walk into the room, and Morgan answers "Hey baby girl, you got the whole team, tell me you got something for us." You can here the smile in her voice as she responds, "Oh sugar I'll always have something for you, but I managed to find an apartment registered in our UnSubs father's name and before you even open your pretty mouths to ask the I've already sent the address to your tablets." Morgan thanks her and she hangs up, we head out to the SUV's and head to the apartment. When we arrive you knock on the door and wait for an answer when there is none you signal for Morgan to kick the door down

You all flood into the apartment. You took the room at the end of the hall, hearing your teammates yell out that the rooms at the start of the hallway are empty they follow you to the last room and when you open it you're met with the overwhelming smell of something rotting, you look into the room to find your victim Erin dead laying on the bed. You take a step back and let Rossi step into the room and check her pulse, he shakes his head indicating that she's dead. Rossi walks out of the room "Her body is still warm, he must've just left." Hotch comes over and looks at you, "You okay Y/L/N?" You can only shake your head.

“I knew something was missing from the profile." Hotch tried to interrupt but you cut him off, "He knew we were close and realized that she'd be a problem so he killed her, why didn't I see it sooner, we could've saved her life." "Hotch he was just here, her body is still warm which mean he was just here, if we had gotten here sooner we could've caught him and saved her-." Hotch cuts you off, "Y/L/N stop, you can't beat yourself up for this okay, you had no idea that he would kill her before we got here. So lets just focus on trying to catch him before he skips town." You nod and walk out of the apartment to let the police do their job.

Garcia calls to let us know the UnSubs car was spotted at a gas station 20 miles north from the apartment and you head in that direction, you can see out of the corner of your eye Hotch taking his eyes off the road for a split second to look at you but your eyes are trained on the horizon seeing as the sun had set a couple of minutes ago casting a nice ombre red and orange color across the sky, you could tell Hotch was trying not to ask you if you're okay because he didn't want to alert the rest of the team in the car with you. When you pulled up to the gas station the UnSub's car was still outside.

You and Prentiss slowly entered the front of the store and raised your guns in the UnSub's direction. "Matthew Hale put down the gun." Prentiss called out but instead he turned towards her and tried to pull the trigger but you pulled yours first and shot him in the shoulder. The police and paramedics arrived on scene and took Matthew into custody while the rest of the team came up to you both and asked how you were feeling and you both said you were feeling fine. ----------------------------------------

On the jet back home you lay on the couch looking out the window across the walkway when Hotch kneels down in front of you, "Hey Y/N how're you feeling?" You didn't say anything you just sat up so he could sit next to you, everyone else was already sleeping, when he sat next to you, you laid your head on his shoulder and sighed. "I really thought we could catch him before he hurt her. I just feel like I didn't do enough." Hotch looked down at you, "Y/N nothing we would've done was going to change the outcome of this case, it's an unfortunate turn of events and all we can do is hope that the next case goes better than this one." You smiled a little and looked up at him, wondering how you never realized how handsome he really is, but you'll kelp your developing crush to yourself for the time being.

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[primnroses]

I JUST finished reading all your metas they're very helpful to remember naruto and their infamous badly written females (I think they're fine) because you showed that they are great but people purposefully ignore them. Your boruto metas are good too to catch up with it although I'm not interested. The best one is undoubtedly the jobs of each female and their growth. Sakura is just great! Definitely not the little weak kunoichi anymore! But can I ask if you would change anything from it? Just went through your blog and you're not at all content with the stuff they do. What would you change?

Thank you so much for reading. I really enjoy breaking down Naruto stuff related to hierarchy and world building, especially with their female characters.

And you're most definitely right: I'm not 100% happy with the direction of the characters and I think their abilities are not exploited the way they should be. They're not being pushed to their limits and they're not being challenged. I've already answered this question before so I'll repeat it in more detail. I'm gonna add more things because why not, I think it's interesting to explore world building when Boruto doesn't.

I will include Sakura Haruno/Uchiha, Hanabi Hyūga, Temari Nara, Shizune, Ino Yamanaka, Karui Akimichi, Hinata Uzumaki/Hyūga, Tenten and Tsunade.

The actual roles they complete for Konoha right now are compiled here. Also I will use examples from Konoha's Organization System here.

⇛ Sakura Uchiha:

Head of Konoha's Medical Department (hierarchy)

Director of Konoha Hospital (founder and supervisor of her Children's Therapy Centers in the 5 nations).

Doctor and in the forefront of research development of medical techniques and creation of medicines.

Mentor for future Konoha Hospital staff in any area.

Member of the Cryptanalysis Team and Analytical Department

Active jōnin.

In the Shinobi Union she'd become the Captain of the Medical and Logistic Support Division of the Shinobi Union.

- Wouldn't change a lot of stuff she already carries the entire Medical Department and its branches so it looks like she has a lot on her plate but it's because the department is big. She's just participates in every major branch of her department but her main role is to lead and heal. Still, being a pillar of the village means she participates in village decisions.

- Mainly the Head of the Medical Department would be simply hierarchical since it's just for Summits between the Daimyō, Hokage and advisors, Chief of ANBU and Jōnin Commander. It's nothing but a title in the hierarchy of the Fire Country because anything related to funds for medicine will be discussed with her.

- Otherwise, Konoha Hospital is the actual medical center of the village. She'd spend the day in her office taking command by leading medics and dispatching medical teams. Included as a medical branch and since she founded the clinics in other nations, even if they all have their own supervisors, Sakura would still oversee them since she's like the CEO. Yearly meetings with the other village's Medical Departments is how she keeps track of them.

- I can't have her directing the medical branch without being a doctor herself. Instead of ordinary patients, Sakura would work on the most difficult cases and challenge her skills and knowledge, and perform surgeries of the highest level.

- Although I enjoy her teaching genin at the hospital, I think Sakura should focus on teaching her own staff in the high-advanced medical skills and knowledge required to work in the hospital, so the training of future researchers and scientists. Teaching genin isn't really on her level, I think she's beyond telling kids how to control their chakra. This is a course she imparts once a year.

- Just like it was depicted in the manga and then continued in novels, Sakura would still be a member of the Cryptanalysis Team or the Analytical Department with Shikamaru and Shiho. This is occasionally.

- The Shinobi Union is the successor of the Allied Shinobi Forces in canon and it's something that gets brought up from time to time, so my idea was to make the jōnins (because they're military leaders) become the captains of one division in case of War and Sakura would succeed Shizune.

- The nature of Sakura's jōnin missions would be mainly to take down several enemies, hunting missing-nin and humanitarian or health emergencies in other countries with a group of tokubetsu jōnin.

-

⇛ Temari Nara:

Ambassador/Coordinator between Sunagakure and Konohagakure.

Commander of the Hokage Guard Platoon.

Chūnin Exams Jury in deciding who passes or not.

Active jōnin.

In the Shinobi Union she'd become the Captain of the Long-range Division.

- Overall Temari remains unchanged but I would use her skills in teams she has a lot of experience on and work from there.

- I know she's already an Ambassador but with the current technology that imitates hiden ninjutsu, senses automatically, performs telepathy, etc. Basically: Naruto and Gaara can speak through facetime it's a practice since the W4r and it's practiced even now in the story. My view is be that Temari would host Gaara in her home (like ch.700), guard him, advise both parties (Konoha and Suna) about matters, diplomatic affairs would be something she would handle, she would attend Gokage Summits. Basically, every single detail about both villages would go through her at all times.

- She has experience as Gaara's bodyguard, something she dedicated many of her shinobi years to. Since the Hokage Guard Platoon is something that has been rescued in novels, I don't think that anyone is better to lead bodyguards than her. Every time the Hokage leaves on a diplomatic mission, Temari goes with them.

- Rather than continue her labor as Chūnin Exams proctor, I think that she's more suited to be a judge signaling her seniority and experience in partaking in this competition. Alongside the Hokage and daimyō, Temari would be part of a table of judges who would choose who becomes a chūnin and who needs reexamination. They happen once or twice a year.

- Just like Sakura, a jōnin like Temari would lead that military division. Knowing she's among the best (if not the best) long-range user along with her experience and her natural leadership skills, she's the best candidate to succeed Gaara in the Fifth Division.

- She would be on missions all the time. The nature of her jōnin missions would be mainly to take down several enemies and missions involving the safety of Konoha like capturing and hunting missing-nin and espionage.

-

⇛ Hanabi Hyūga:

Head of the Hyūga Clan.

Leader/member of the Konoha Barrier Team.

Team 15 instructor.

Active jōnin.

In the Shinobi Union she'd become the Captain of the Close-range Division.

- I didn't change much compared to what's been shown so far, but I'd expand her roles so much more to actually challenge her innate skills.

- I had my doubts with adding Clan Head because it isn't really a job, they only represent the clan. Although one thing that makes them different is that the head is a member of the main branch so it's their responsibility to pass down techniques from the main branch. It's time Hiashi retires and Hanabi takes on the role she's been preparing for since she was very little.

- I also had my doubts about making her part of the Barrier Team and although I added it because I think it's a good idea, it'd fit better if the manga had chosen another path for this team but not with the way it's been presented. Hanabi has 360º and long range vision for sensing and the four random ninja with telepathy helmets can contact her if something happens plus she can anticipate more upcoming danger. However, I don't think a team that has been rebranded as automated with a database of chakra prints, chakra transmission devices to communicate and an obsolete Interception Team needs a leader (they just notify Sasuke and Naruto and they deal with enemies). They don't need someone to tell them what to do when they don't do anything but alert their leader of danger who will then ask if the new chakra is in the database and then contact the Hokage. First, they won't fight it themselves and second, wasting time to tell someone else who will ask questions the HQ has before their eyes is pointless. I personally don't see the point of having a spokesperson or members other than HQ, they waste time.

- I kept her genin team but to me Hanabi should be used as a ninja rather than instructor so she would spend most of her time going on missions. On one hand by leading a genin team she gains experience for her future role of passing down techniques within her clan, but the overall leadership skills come from becoming a chūnin so I have mixed feelings.

- Same as Sakura and Temari, Hanabi is a jōnin and a great close-range fighter so I don't see any other close-range better for this role than her to succeed Kitsuchi.

- The nature of her jōnin missions would be mainly taking down several enemies, a lot of surveillance with intel gathering and infiltration.

-

⇛ Shizune:

Hokage's coordinator/assistant.

Deputy Director of Konoha Hospital.

Doctor.

Teacher of medical ninjutsu for field medical-nin on regular teams.

Jōnin team leader of some medical teams that Sakura dispatches.

- Although overall she stays the same, I think Shizune is one of those misused characters that can shine with good writing.

- Kishimoto originally made her keep her job as the Hokage's assistant in ch.700 and Gaiden but Boruto somehow removed it, so I rescued it with a different approach. She'd be second to Shikamaru and her role would be more about paperwork in coordinating with the other Konoha departments.

- She's already depicted as second in command in Konoha Hospital apparently. Since Sakura has other responsibilities in her department or when she's on missions and doing other political stuff, Shizune is a great help and she'd be taking over Konoha Hospital when the Director is out.

- Shizune has always been second to Tsunade, even when Sakura surpassed both. Her responsibility is to contribute to Konoha's Medical Department as its senior and experienced doctor. She's a referent and model doctor in the hospital taking care of many cases.

- Instead of Sakura teaching genin, Shizune would teach first aid in the Ninja Academy and basic medical ninjutsu in Konoha Hospital for genin that want to become the healers of their team.

- I can't believe they'd waste a jōnin when Konoha only has a handful, so she'd still go on missions. The nature of her jōnin missions would be keeping her duties in medical teams for emergencies and diplomaticy.

-

⇛ Ino Yamanaka:

Florist of the Yamanaka flower shop.

Leader or member of the Analysis Unit.

Teacher of Ikebana in the Ninja Academy.

Active chūnin.

- The writing destroyed the Yamanaka Clan so I decided to rescue it and make Ino an actually useful ninja. The Barrier Team isn't measuring up to her because she doesn't stand out and her skills are already generic in a team with telepathy helmets and automatic sensing. Her sensing is really awful and limited to her close surroundings, that's why she takes advantage of birds for surveillance so I don't know why she wrote her leading a team when her sensing equals a machine it's completely pointless. Like I said earlier she's nothing more than a mediator and contacting her wastes a lot of time if the only thing she'll do is ask HQ questions and tell the Hokage or follow Shikamaru's orders. She can be more useful than responding to a machine.

- The flowershop stays of course and it's where she spends the days at so it's difficult to place her somewhere else. Her family helps her sometimes too.

- Her path was to become an interrogator like her father, even though she never trained or showed interest in it other than keeping Ino-Shika-Cho traditions, otherwise I don't know what she could do since missions with her teammates are out of the question with Shikamaru being the busiest man in the village. Her clan has only 2 members: Her and and Santa Yamanaka. The former is a jōnin probably set on other quests or killed in action we don't know. Leading or being a member of the Analysis Team (with Aoba Yamashiro who is her senpai in the job being the leader she can learn and take advice from) is the most logical outcome for her ninja career. Interrogating is only in cases where Ibiki is unsuccessful with his T&I methods.

- This is the most misused thing mentioned in the manga but teacher of Ikebana (flower arrangement) for little kunoichi like those kunoichi classes in the Academy suits her, she has great memories with Sakura there too. She has a history with flowers there's no one better.

- The nature of her chūnin missions would be mainly to gather intelligence with a team of her own.

⇛ Karui Akimichi:

Ambassador/Coordinator between Kirigakure and Konohagakure.

Member of the Hokage Guard Platoon.

Active chūnin or tokubetsu jōnin.

- Karui is the prime example of a wasted character. She's great and she can be written to contribute to Konoha following the writing in the og story. There's so much she can do.

- She presents the same problem as Temari being the Ambassador and it's technology. So instead the follow-up would be the same: host Darui in her home, guard him, advise both parties (Konoha and Kiri) about matters, diplomatic affairs would be something she would handle, she would attend Gokage Summits. Basically, every single detail about both villages would go through her at all times.

- Again, same as Temari. She has experience with Team Samui so she's perfect to be a member of the Hokage Guard Platoon.

- I was thinking about promoting her to tokubetsu jōnin because her kenjutsu and Raiton are so cool and she a specialist in those areas but I think chūnin is okay for a ninja of her calibre because she'd be going on a lot of missions. The nature of her chūnin missions would be mainly to take down several enemies, infiltration, patrol and guarding for other villages.

-

⇛ Tenten:

Owner of her weapon shop Ninja Tools Tententen.

Chūnin Exams proctor.

Teacher of bukijutsu in the Ninja Academy.

Active chūnin.

- For me Tenten and her shop presents the same problem as Ino but Tenten is alone to manage her shop so free time for other average jobs is limited. It could be written differently.

- Instead of managing her shop, Tenten would actually take orders of ninja equipment and have employees distribute to those areas. That would give her time to focus on other things. She founded her own business so she manages it according to her own schedule.

- She's already shown as a proctor of the second stage of the Chūnin Exams with Shino since exams are once or twice a year. Still keeps her role as supervisor in the control room.

- Being the best bukijutsu user in the world but not doing anything about it is criminal. She's a teacher of shurikenjutsu and ninja arts in the Ninja Academy.

- She'd go on missions regularly like Konoha Shinden. The nature of her chūnin missions would be infiltration.

-

⇛ Tsunade:

Member of the Konoha Council as advisor (hierarchy).

Sakura's advisor in Konoha Hospital.

Retired ninja.

- Tsunade has been forgotten and made obsolete like Kakashi so I will not allow it.

- I'm in favor of removing Homura and Koharu from the advisory job. The new elder and advisor in the hierarchy would be Tsunade with Kakashi as the previous Hokage and ninja with a lot of experience in building the current Konoha. She will always be there to mentor the Hokage in the managing of Konoha and policy/decision making and become an irreplaceable asset for the village.

- Her experience in the leadership of a village could be used in aiding Sakura in the Medical Department by informing her about medical development in other villages. Give Sakura her approval with some of her developments for the village's health system is one of the things she'd do most, more like as a second opinion.

- She'd be retired from ninja duty, instead letting the generation she raised take command. However, she'd be travelling the world and it wouldn't overlook any issue happening in her surroundings to tell her village as advisor.

-

⇛ Hinata Uzumaki:

Help Hanabi pass down the Hyūga techniques.

Retired ninja.

- I honestly don't see her participating in shinobi stuff because it's what she doesn't like and I see that she enjoys family life, being a mother, taking care of Himawari, etc. She was never a natural leader either and the rest of jobs are related to shinobi life.

- It's not really a job but maybe she could be Hanabi's assistant in passing down the Hyūga techniques or just assist Hanabi in general since she's busy.

-

[mmmichyyy]

i just need to vent a lil bit or else i'm going to combust.

i work at an office for a small company. i hate confrontation. i'm a pretty quiet person and keep things to myself mostly and don't bother anyone. i do my work, i get off work, i don't think about work at home, and that's that.

my manager is one of the most frustrating people i've ever encountered. she is over sixty, extremely stuck in her ways and borderline delusional. she is incompetent with computers, constantly says she's not good with computers, yet doesn't do anything to learn or advance her skills. one time she asked me why she couldn't move a file from one folder to another. at the time i didn't have the time or energy to explain to her how it worked (also because i've tried explaining other basic computer things in the past and all she kept saying was "i'll never understand" so i stopped trying) so i just did it for her. it took me literally 2 seconds. the next day she said i stayed up all night thinking about what happened yesterday, i don't understand why you did that, why could you just teach me. i said i have tried before, you just don't listen. then she said okay next time i have a computer issue i won't ask you. i said okay fine. she ignored me for months after that unless it was absolutely necessary to talk to me, which honestly was fine by me.

one time she accused me of "stealing and shredding company documents" without any evidence. she told my supervisor she didn't know what i was working on, didn't understand the computer system i use, photocopied reports i had written like she was collecting evidence to my supervisor (who doesn't come into the office often) as if she was catching me in the act of doing something nefarious, when in reality i scan every report for my supervisor to see. i sit beside this person every day. she could've turned her head and asked me questions and i would've answered her. instead she just assumed i was "suspicious" because she has hate in her heart and thinks everyone's out to get her, but honestly i just don't care enough about my job to do all the extra work of "stealing company information" ????? i just want to get paid dude.

my supervisor sat me down and told me she believes me, that my manager is from a different generation, that as long as i do my work then it's fine. so ever since then i don't engage with my manager, i don't confront her, i don't talk to her unless it's work related. she refocused her negative energy to other coworkers. i don't have the mental capacity to coddle her or interact with her. if she talks to me, then i just nod politely.

cut to recently she has started to make passive aggressive comments to my new coworker. i keep quiet, but my coworker and i text to vent about her, since we can't talk out loud when she's there. she made a comment to my coworker about something a few days ago and finally i snapped, i confronted her, asked her why she would say something like that, she said that's just who i am, i am this direct, blah blah blah. she ignored me for a few days after that. then, out of fucking nowhere, she accused me of "forging her signature on a quarterly report" last year (????) with absolutely zero evidence to back up her claim. i just about lost it. i can be quiet about a lot of things, but i will defend myself if you accuse me of doing something i didn't do, especially something this serious. like if a person said shit like that in any professional setting with an actual HR department they would be reprimanded, right?!

i'm just exhausted. i wrote a long email to my supervisor about my side of the story. i know nothing will happen to my manager but i just wanted to make sure that my supervisor knows i didn't do anything wrong and that if my manager wants to accuse me of something, then she has to file a formal complaint and present actual evidence to back up her claim, instead of randomly spewing bullshit out of nowhere just because she's petty. also she burps a lot which is fucking gross.

anyway. idk who's going to read this. i just had to write this out or else i was going to combust. this isn't half the shit she's done. whatever. i'm fine. i just want to do my work and get paid and survive in this shitty economy and pay my rent dude. some people are just fucking weird. the end.

[fallen-angel-92]

Chapter 4

Summary: She was not where she was supposed to be. Birthed from the womb of a goddess and raised as a Spartan. She must try and learn what it means to be a parent all the while trying to navigate this new world she is in.

“I think we all wish we could erase some dark times in our lives. But all of life's experiences, bad and good, make you who you are. Erasing any of life's experiences would be a great mistake.” - Luis Miguel

Rhea could hear the little bell of the door chime as they walked through. Upon first glance Rhea was not too impressed by it, she was used to pubs back in Svartalfheim when she was an apprentice under Veijo Vorhoc. A well known dwarven blacksmith that had agreed to teach her after witnessing her stick her hand into a large pit of lava to try and get some metal ore to make her mother a gift. Her burned flesh on her right arm throbbed slightly at the memory, but quickly shook the memory away as she and Jaked walked toward the bar. Out of the corner of her eyes she could make out two distinct figures.

One of them was a large bald man, she could tell that he had been through a lot just by the alert way he was looking her way. The other was obviously a police officer, though she couldn't really make out what station he worked for. Rhea returned her attention forward toward the bartender, who was looking at her with an uneasy expression, however, he still greeted her with a kind voice,

“Hello ma'am. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Forgive me for intruding and disrupting your patrons evening, but my nephew and I are new to the city. We are wondering if you could give us directions to the Raccoon City Police Department.” Rhea replied back with a calm tone, she could feel Jake grip her hand a bit and tighten his hold slightly.

Just as she finished speaking, she could hear a male voice chime in with curiosity,” Mind if I ask what you need at the RPD?”

Turning her head to face the one that spoke, she was greeted to the sight of a rugged male with short brown hair that seemed to frame his face, his hazel colored eyes glittering with interest. Just as she was about to answer the other man she saw chimed in gruffly after taking a bite of food,” Kevin left the woman to her business. Just because you work there doesn't mean everyone wants you in their business.”

The man that was known as Kevin chimed in with a laid back tone,” Jeez Mark. I just asked her a question. Don't need to start acting like I am hitting on her.”

She watched the dark skinned male, give Kevin a glare, however, it was instantly stopped when the sound of a bell rang again causing everyone to turn to face the man who suddenly entered the bar. Rhea could sense death coming from him in thick waves, it was similar to the thick fogs of Helheim, however her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed that the bartender that she was originally talking to walked over to the new person. Rhea slowly pulled Jake closer to her, glancing down at him as he looked up at her with a hint of uncertainty before looking back over.

However, just then the sound of a ‘thud’ caused Rhea to quickly turn back over to Mark's direction just in time to see Mark leap out of his seat to his fallen companion. She then noticed that not only Mark ran over to him, but the female waitress ran over to the fallen man as well, another man. Rhea did not have a chance to get a good look at him as the sound of a scream drew her attention away from them and back back to the bartender, who seemed to have been bitten by the man. She reacted on instinct, letting go of Jake's hand as she rushed forward slamming her fist into his face sending him flying backwards back out of the door.

As soon as the man was out, the bartender that was attacked then quickly closed the door, locking it before sliding down the door onto his rear end.

“What the hell is going on!?” Another man screamed as the sound of something thudding on the window drew their attention to the glass next to the door. 

Rhea quickly turned to see a thin man with blonde colored hair, however, she didn’t bother to examine the man further as she turned to see that there were hundreds of people that seemed to be rotting trying to get in. Rhea quickly turned to Jake, rushing back over to him, picking him and placing him onto her back before turning to the other people that were still in the main area.

“We need to leave. Now,” She growled out causing most of the people that were still within the building to come alive once more. 

“Auntie! Over there,” Jake said softly to her as he pointed toward the door that was near the back.

Rhea quickly rushed to the door just in time to hear a female let out a fearful scream, running on autopilot, she rushed to the female bathroom and flung it open. Inside she could see a black haired female being dragged toward an open ventilation that was near the bottom of the wall.

“Boy,” Rhea says as she darts forward grabbing the woman's hand just as Jake quickly says,

*Vita*

Jake had managed to use the backpack to help him get a perch to allow him to shoot off an arrow at the arm. This allowed Rhea to pull the woman free, and push her out the door and back into the main area where the others were. After the door closed behind them, Rhea instantly noticed that the blonde haired waitress from before opening up the door.

“This way!” She called out standing to the side to allow the others to go through. Rhea noticed that the man Mark and the brown haired man were helping who she assumed was his partner.

The man, Kevin, rushed over to her, gently taking the young woman that she saved in the bathroom and asked with worry,” You okay, Yoko?”

The petite woman nodded her head not speaking much, before Rhea quickly cut in,” Let us go. We need to leave now.”

Kevin looked at her, nodding his head before leading the woman, Yoko, toward the door that blonde haired waitress opened. Rhea turned to look just in time to see the front door being broken open and the undead poured into the building. Rhea did not want Jake to see the end of the bartender so she quickly rushed into the door herself, closing it behind her, reaching for the dresser and pushed in front of the door. Taking two steps at a time she quickly got to the second floor where there were a total of nine people on the second floor. She scanned the survivors, noticing that there were three women and six men, Jake gently poked her in the cheek causing her to look back at him. She lifted her hand up and gently tapped him on the head.

It was something her and Jake had developed to ensure the other was alright and didn’t stay in their head too long. As soon as she put her hand back down to her side she heard a female voice huff out,” What now? I don't know what the hell is going on, but we obviously can't stay here.``

Rhea glanced over at the woman, she had short strawberry blonde hair and she wore a red suit which was strange to her. However, another voice chimed in, a smooth male voice replied,” While I agree with you, Alyssa, please be mindful of the young man in our midst.”

This caused the woman to pause as she looked over at Rhea and Jake before grumbling under her breath just as Rhea was about to say something when Kevin quickly spoke,” Look I agree that we need to get out of here. George, do you think Bob is okay to continue onward?”

Rhea watched as the brunette looked over at the elderly man, frowning as he turned to look at Kevin and replied back,” I am unsure. I don't know what is ailing him. I have a feeling that it has something to do with what is going on here.”

While the others were speaking, Rhea began to look around, she could feel Jake let go of her and land upon his feet and went to stand next to her. It was then a soft gruff voice softly asked,” Are you two alright? You just came into town right?”

She turned to her right to see a man with dark brown hair almost black in color. She could tell from his tool set that he was some type of maintenance worker. Rhea nodded her head as she replied, “We are fine. Yes we traveled a great distance to get here.”

However, before more could be said as everyone went quiet at the sudden sound of banging down the stairs. And in that moment they knew that time was now not on their side and they needed to get out of the bar as quickly as they could. Rhea had no plans on dying nor was she going to fail Jake. She would make it out of here one way or another.

(Hope you enjoy chapter 4!)