#gonna find a job when summer comes... maybe talking to colleagues and all that will help... everythings gonna be fine.. i hope
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everything about Gavriil feels suffocating.
how his presence alone can be almost overwhelming, how his massive body cages you everytime without a chance to escape. you wouldn't dare to try anyway, knowing that you don't even have a say against a creature of his caliber. he will find you. in your dreams, in your nightmares. in your room.
how he will be intense and vague about everything just for the sake of it; to confuse you further, to see the conflict of emotions in your eyes merge with arousal. eventually your hesitance turns into acceptance, a desperate need to feel his hands all over you. and he will be oh so grateful to fulfill that desire.
how his thick tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth, reaching almost the back of your throat, relishing in the muffled little sounds you make. your drool mixed with his saliva drips down your chin, and your hazy eyes look up at him when he finally pulls away, giving you a second to breathe.
how his hips are slamming into you relentlessly, your wetness and lack of resistance allowing him to move almost effortlessly. forced to hold onto him for dear life instead of pushing away. all of your morals and principles are being tossed out of the window every single time he comes to you. he has you where he wants you, and will not stop until he feels like you can't take it anymore.
and how in the morning he vanishes away, leaving you guessing: was it just another wet dream? but the cold stickiness between your legs tells you more than you need to know.
#yes bringing this back bc at the time i didn't tag it properly#okay im gonna complain in here now.#need... to... draw... something... but i dont... have the strength..#drawing on my phone is so exhausting but i have no other option#bc i think my traditional art is not very polishedddd and i dont want to answer asks with ittttt#but maybe i will#bc i think i'm really getting to that burnout#and giving how my bday is getting closer and closer....#i dread it. but hey. cake. money. i'll get a new piercing#i WILL cry ofc but hey. maybe someone will buy me tea as a gift. who knows.#i just want to spend some time with someone yknow:(#just... talk. about anything. sit beside eachother and stare off into the waters#i hope the snow will melt soon because i want to go out more even if by myself#gonna find a job when summer comes... maybe talking to colleagues and all that will help... everythings gonna be fine.. i hope#i just need friends. god.#microtya's kids#microtya: gavriil#monsterfucker#monster fucker#monster x human#monster boyfriend#monster lover#teratophillia#god x human#monster smut
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The Boyz as my University Professors
Disclaimer: Some of my professors are evil bitches; none of the boys are truly evil and I am in no way implying they are or trying to make them look bad! I love the boys and I just thought it would be a fun thing to post :D
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Sangyeon:
the one professor that absolutely loves the topic of his class
super wholesome and smiley throughout the 90 minutes class time
getting super close to the camera (actually to the mic) because he is worried students won’t hear him well enough
always asking questions and encouraging students to interact
not offended when something isn’t clear and therefore students don’t know the answer
reading EVERY. SINGLE. MESSAGE written in the chat (sometimes students have mic problems or don’t wanna speak)
making everyone feel valid and appreciated
being super calm and relaxed
barely doing breakout-rooms cause he knows no one likes them
ending class always a little earlier cause “I know how stressful your life can get.”
just the cutest prof out there
Jacob:
another sweet guy
never holds class at its normal timeframe
just uploads all the files students will need (although attendance is supposed to be mandatory)
“you guys are all grown-ups, I trust you to decide yourself when it is the best time for YOU to study.”
constantly uses smileys and is therefore super popular with students
doesn’t teach many classes, cause which good prof does that? ugh
gets right back at students when they email him their concerns
and no, you don’t get half-assed answers
you get a very detailed answer, which is rare in university life
THANKS STUDENTS FOR SENDING HIM THEIR HOMEWORK!!!!
“Dear [name of stundet], thank you very much! 😊”
offers students to call him by his first name
“I’ll call you by your first name too if that’s okay... creates a more comfortable atmosphere!”
the best <3
Younghoon:
he is a savage professor
his look is hella scary and students fear taking his classes
but he is actually the coolest and most laid back dude ever
the first time class is held, he comes in, stone cold expression and literally throws his bag on the desk - everyone is hella scared
then he says, in the scariest voice ever, “We can have fun here in class, no problem, but i AM YOUR PROFESSOR. NOT YOUR FRIEND. Remember that.”
*everyone scared to death*
“Welcome to class everybody! My name is Mr. Kim and I am very looking forward to teach this class in our summer term! Feel free to ask any question that might come up and don’t hesitate to reach out to me whenever!”
no need to be scared, he is a sweetheart
strict and has high expectations, but won’t overdo it with homework or assignments
constantly jokes around but then switches back to being serious
he creates a nice atmosphere where students want to learn something and do it voluntarily
cares for his students and appreciates their hard work - especially during the pandemic
“I know this is not easy for any of us but I am so amazed by your guys’ work this semester. It was an absolute pleasure teaching you. I hope to see you guys again, but not in this class. Please don’t fail.”
I love him
Hyunjae:
omg, he is an absolute legend
class starts and he is doing his introduction part
the class i about british literature
“Welcome to this literature class, you are in for a long ride!”
so far so good right?
“Let me just say, British Literature is an ABSOLUTE shit show!”
when I tell you, I almost died hearing that (no offense to anyone, pls don’t take my profs words to heart... he lives for british literature 🥺)
he definitely has his students hooked with this one sentence
“the teacher that taught this class before me... what was he even talking about! I mean, british literature is so much more than what he made it out to be!”
basically starts ranting
teaches with so much passion
can’t forget the jokes here and there
also uses smileys which students seriously love (at least I do)
wants students to be informal with him as well
“moving on to this next topic... a little disclaimer before we start: I will go batshit crazy with this topic because I LOVE IT. So please tell me to shut up when I exceed the 10 minutes mark. Thank you!”
A savage legend that everyone loves
sadly only teaches a handful of classes as well
Juyeon:
super laid back and chill
does never check attendance and just trusts his students
usually talks most of the time and doesn’t ask too many questions
is super happy when students contribute though
but he isn’t one to force them
“I know your day has probably been really long, so it’s okay. I’m not taking this personal.”
his class is not based on theory but more on experiences he made
shares funny stories, mistakes he made and what he learnt from them
always gives the smallest and easiest homework ever
“please just share your experiences with these types of situations in our forum”
and he does not want to grade students based on an exam
“I have a better idea. In order to understand a certain topic, I want you to write a portfolio about it. It should be detailed but I won’t give you a number of words. Do what feels right and surprise me! Be creative, nothing will be worth a failing grade as long as you put in some effort.”
does split classrooms
one half is in the main room with him, the others are in breakout rooms, working on a certain topic
super chill and just not as hard as some other classes
but students definitely learn from him!
Kevin:
oh boy, students either gonna hate or love him
he is very kind and nice but he is STRICT
take his class serious and work or you will fail
although he has very high expectations, he will make sure students will be prepared for all the essays, assignments and presentations he throws at at them
no half-assed instructions, you will get the full program (as every student should!)
you have to write an argumentative essay but have no idea how to do that?
Professor Moon (students are allowed to call him Kevin) will explain an argumentativ essay in detail, will show examples and will tell you exactly what to put in it
having trouble finding sources?
Kevin will help you, just let him know!
Also a very empathetic teacher
something happened and you can’t attend class? Absolutely no problem
whenever something serious happens (for us it was a shooting), Kevin will cancel class and spare his students cause their well-being is more important
he doesn’t throw out A’s and B’s easily but when you do get such a grade in one of his classes... dude, you did a really good job
so as I said, he is either your fav or least fav professor... choose your side!
Chanhee:
he is a bitch (not really, but he gives the impression)
at first, he is that nice, bubbly professor
super friendly and kind
and his classes are absolutely okay! no biggie
or so they THOUGHT
his exams and progress tests or whatever ARE HELL
he makes it seem as everything is so easy and not overwhelming at all
BUT nothing is easy and everything is overwhelming
50 pages for a damn progress test two weeks into the semester!
the grading is so strict, you need at least 65% to pass! (maybe I am a baby but 65% is a lot for a passing grade hahaha)
but he confuses students
he is so kind and soft spoken
constantly smiling and in a good mood
but the exams????
are you sure you were the one creating them Mr Choi?
and yes, he is one of those professors that wants to be addressed by his last name (nothing wrong with that)
as I said, he confuses students
they don’t know what to think of him
at the end of the day he isn’t a bad guy
just not the type of professor the students would want in every single class for the rest of their lives
Changmin:
changmin is not your ordinary professor
because he is a big fan of team-teaching
so all his classes are taught by him and his dear colleague Haknyeon!
YAAAAY
I love this duo already
he is the part of the duo that is EXTREMELY motivated
he is is so hyper and so ready for teaching
his classes are always fun but also slightly overwhelming?
juts imagine having too much caffeine in your body
that is changmin being able to teach something he loves
that’s just the passion jumping out of him
he is constantly talking and laughing and throwing jokes left and right
he is having a good time!
super understanding and empathetic
and although everything seems fun and games
you will definitely learn from him!
he has this natural and authentic way of teaching in his body
it comes... naturally and it all makes sense somehow
although the class is packed with inside jokes and changmin teasing haknyeon
haknyeon doesn’t even have time nor the chance to speak
this is changmin’s time to shine!
they love and hate each other
but the students definitely love this iconic duo
Haknyeon:
as I mentioned; haknyeon and changmin are a team
it wasn’t really something haknyeon wanted but... how could you possibly say no to baby changmin? 🥺
so yes, changmin’s cute face got him into this situation
he doesn’t even have to prepare anything for class - his lovely colleague does the talking anyways
he usually lays back and relax
he frowns into the cam cause he tries to intimidate students
but they know he is a soft guy anyways
while changmin is talking, he is chatting to students in the chat
as I mentioned earlier, not everyone wants to unmute themselves and therefore posts in the chat
so he is having chats with students, often not even related to the topic
“Please excuse me, I will be absent for a few minutes - mommy duties” -student
“Don’t worry Miss! I know exactly what you mean... children.” -haknyeon
whenever he tries to get a word in, he has to talk VERY LOUDLY
he literally has to talk over changmin
but changmin doesn’t mind, he just smiles, nods and listens
changmin is super proud whenever haknyeon speaks
and haknyeon thinks that’s very sweet
but that thought passes as soon as changmin makes a joke about him
at the end of the day, they love each other at least to a certain extent and students adore them
Sunwoo:
he is not an ordinary professor either
class time? virtual meetings?
nope, not with sunwoo
again, in the classes the boyz teach, attendance is mandatory
mandatory? sunwoo has never heard of her
he doesn’t require students to attend meetings and homework is also something he does not expect from them
he uploads powerpoint-presentations with videos and audio of him explaining everything in the presentation
but the boy is clumsy
and he is not good with anything technical
so him dropping his glass and spilling his water all over his lap?
well, students will see this in the video
“... and it’s important to- YAAAAH OH NO....”
*awkward silence*
“I spilled my water... if you haven’t seen.”
*more awkward silence*
“Give me a minute”
*the video continues and sunwoo is nowhere in sight*
after ten minutes of an empty chair, sunwoo returns and continues as if nothing has happened
sometimes his kids walk in and dab in the camera without him noticing
“and then - Hey! I am at WORK.”
he loves it though
and he posts these “fail” videos on purpose
“I want to show you, that it is okay to not be perfect and to not be in control of everything! Stuff like that happens, especially with us being in home-office! And don’t worry, if your mom walks in or whatever, in my classroom no one gets judged! This is life and now that we have to do everything from home, the unexpected is unavoidable!”
Another students’ favorite
Eric:
I would love to imagine him as this savage prof I have in mind... but no <3
he is a sweet guy
also super obsessed with the class he is teaching
he is LIVING for it
usually experiences technical problems right before class starts
“oopsie daisy, sorry guys... might take a few minutes *giggles*”
and no, it’s not a creepy giggle but a really cute one, I swear!
constantly has a pen in his hand and clicks it absentmindedly while teaching
students constantly hear the clicking sound... or when the pen falls to the ground.... which happens every five minutes
he constantly forgets to mute himself whenever he wants students to work by themselves and all they hear is him chugging down his water or whatever drink he has prepared
also sends out super sweet emails
but due to him being a young dude, he wants students to call him by his last name
he also calls students by their last name but he does use smileys to lighten the professional mood that comes with honorifics
overall a very motivated but extremely kind-hearted dude
#the boyz#scenarios#kpop#imagines#reactions#headcanon#the boyz as#eric sohn#jacob bae#kevin moon#ju haknyeon#younghoon#hyunjae#juyeon#sunwoo#sangyeo#chanhee#changmin
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... the tyrion/sansa hairdresser/mortician au no one was expecting but happened
well @meri-vaahtoaa I TOLD YOU IT WAS GONNA HAPPEN TODAY AND IT HAPPENED, have a for now untitled tyrion/sansa mortician/hairdresser au inspired by this post with bonus guest star jeyne p. u___u don't look for angst, also extremely background mentioned jb plus jaime & bronn being themselves in the backstory, have fun u__u
This fucking teaches me to be drunk around both my brother and Bronn, Tyrion thinks for the umpteenth time as he keeps on walking - he needs a damned salon and he needs it now but he also had to get out of the neighborhood because like hell he’s going to risk running into anyone who knows his father. That’s the… least thing he needs, honestly, as if his life choices aren’t already something he has to fight for every other moment and he can’t fucking wait to be out of the house, which should be soon -
If he doesn’t get thrown out of his internship because of his horrible drunk choices.
Why did they have drinks together, why did they have drunk bets, why did he bet with Jaime that he would dye his hair bright blue if he stopped beating around the bush and confessed to the bartender that he’s been into her since they started coming to that specific place for drinks because he chickened out of it for months, except -
Except Jaime went and did it and it turned out that she actually had been looking back and Tyrion hadn’t been wrong in that assessment, but then he had to do it and he actually went and used a do it yourself dye and -
Well.
He honestly can’t go and start his apprenticeship with blue hair that’s also… well, not even professionally dyed, and considering the arguments that it created the least thing he needs is going somewhere he’d be recognized.
So, he’s plenty out of the neighborhood, but he hasn’t found someplace that felt… well, not extra fancy. The second-least thing he needs is extra fancy shops where people would send looks his way that he could absolutely do without.
Also, it’s fucking hot. Why did he do that in the middle of summer again? And why couldn’t he have bet something more reasonable - right, it was Bronn’s idea and they were drunk. Fuck.
He walks a bit more, wondering if maybe he should sit down and check on Google Maps if he’s ended up in the only area of the city that doesn’t have any, and then he sees one on the other side of the road - fine, he stopped because he wondered who names a hair salon Beauty and the Beast, but it costs nothing to have a look from the outside, right?
He crosses the street and walks up to the door.
First thing, the pricing list outside it looks… well, it’s not cheap, but it’s certainly not the ridiculous fares they ask where his sister goes to have her hair done, which is exceedingly good since he doesn’t want to spend a salary’s worth of an average office employee to get that blue crap out of his hair. He looks through the glass door - there is just one woman inside getting her hair done, which is also good because the least people around the shorter the wait, it certainly does look clean and while the pastel aesthetic is maybe a bit too much for his tastes - everything is a pastel shade, from the light yellow on the floor to the pale pink and violet of the chairs and the powder blue of the walls… well, beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to it, and the woman on the chair is chatting amicably with the chestnut-haired girl doing her hair and doesn’t look like she hates being there or like she chose the wrong shop.
Also, it’s two PM and he knows this is going to take long. He can hardly afford to fuck around much longer.
He pushes the door open and walks into the shop.
“Welcome!” The chestnut-haired girl says, giving him a nice smile. “Sorry if I don’t come over, but if you sit for a minute my colleague will be back from her coffee break shortly.”
“Sure,” he says, “no hurry,” and he goes sitting on one of the pale violet chairs on the side - they’re comfortable, at least, and he considers taking out the book he brought with to pass the time, but then -
“Hello and welcome! Can I get you a glass of water” Someone else chirps from his side, and right, he did hear the door open -
Oh.
“Hi,” he blurts, staring into a pair of lovely blue eyes belonging to supposedly the other girl working here - she has long auburn hair styled in a french braid and is wearing a blue summer dress that pairs with her eyes perfectly and she’s smiling down at him as if she’s not horrified by his horrid dye-job, or by his presence in the first place, which is his general experience in this kind of shops, so - that’s good, at least. “And uh, thanks,” he says, realizing he is thirsty.
“Be right back! Sorry, I was taking my break but we have no appointments today, so I’ll be on your case very soon.”
She goes to the corner of the room and grabs a glass of water from a dispenser, then brings it to him - shit, he needed it.
“So, what can I do for you?”
“Er,” he says, “I dyed that hair for a bet but I was called for an internship yesterday, and I start on Monday, so… I need a removal. If it’s possible.”
The girl leans closer, taking a good look at his hair.
“Hm,” she says, “it might take a while, but I think it’s possible. It’s not a very good dye job, if I can say so.”
He snorts. “Oh, you can. Please, I did it and I have regretted it every moment since.”
“Well,” she nods, “you’re lucky that most likely no one will show up for anything complicated today then. Jeyne, can you handle other customers in case?”
“Sure,” the chestnut-haired girl replies. “As if I don’t know you’ll have the time of your life.”
She rolls her eyes, then goes to a wardrobe in the corner and finds him a towel, tucks it around his neck and lowers a chair near the small sinks at the bottom of the shop so he can sit on it - he does, feeling extremely thankful that it’s extremely comfortable leather, and he can hear her tutting about bad dyes under her breath as she washes his hair once, twice, thrice, and her fingers feel really good on his scalp but he’s not going to think about that now.
“Just for the record,” she asks as she rinses it, “do you just want the dye to go away or do you want a cut, too?”
“Hell,” he says, “I need to look presentable. I suppose the cut can’t hurt.”
“Will do,” she chirps again, “and by the way, never use that kind of dye again. Not with hair this nice.”
Tyrion would have toppled off the chair if his head wasn’t thrown too far back for it to happen.
“I have nice hair now?”
“You can feel it,” she replies, “under all this… this,” she says, shaking her head.
“I know,” he says, “bad choices.”
“Extremely,” she goes on, rinsing. “But don’t you worry. I’ll have it fixed.”
“Really,” chestnut-haired girl says, “Sansa is a pro with that kind of thing. You’re in good hands.”
Oh. So her name is Sansa. It’s pretty, he thinks.
“Well,” he says, “I can’t wait to see how you manage it. I’m Tyrion, by the way. Figures you should know if I know yours?”
“Oh, absolutely,” she goes on, and gives his hair a last rinse. “Right, can you move forward?” He does and she dries his hair with the towel, then goes to find a mantel that somehow he doesn’t drown in. “Please,” she says, “on whichever free chair you prefer.”
He picks an empty one two spots away from Jeyne and the other woman and lowers it so he can sit down, and then Sansa raises it up again until his still sadly blue head is at the right height.
“Hm,” she says, grabbing a lock and feeling it between her fingers, “from what I see here you’re a natural blonde?”
“Sort of,” he shrugs. He is - his hair isn’t as golden as his siblings’, but it definitely is on that shade. Not that he ever bothered to look into it. “Wait,” he says, fishing into his pocket, and then he grabs his phone and shows her a picture Bronn took of him and Jaime during Tyrion’s latest birthday party which is about the only one of his he’s kept there where you can see his actual color very well. She takes it, squints, zooms on his head, then nods and hands him back the phone.
“Well,” she says, “we’re going to have to use a color remover to take out the blue pigment, then apply some more pigment to allow for the proteins in the hair to adhere to it. Then… yeah, possibly mix a few different types of toners to reach the goal of your natural hair color, and it’s going to take a while, but we should get there. Nothing that terrible.”
“Er,” he blurts, “how much chemistry did you have to study to get there?”
She smiles a bit wider.
“Yeah, I know, but some people don’t like if we talk like that. It makes it sound complicated, I’m told.”
“Not at all,” he says, waiting as Jeyne, who has finished the other woman’s hair, goes to the back room to presumably get Sansa at least the color remover, “not like it’s not… sort of my thing, too,” he says, and then he bites his own tongue - why did he ever do that, now she’s going to decide he’s a creep or something -
“Really,” she says as Jeyne comes back and hands her the remover, “do lean your head back. And what it is that you do?”
He takes a deep breath and tells her.
—
“Oh, so you’re a mortician?” Sansa says happily as she keeps on applying the remover to his hair, her fingers pressing along his scalp as she rubs it in. To her credit, she doesn’t sound like she thinks it’s creepy.
“Well, apprentice,” he shrugs, “but yeah, working on it. And starting an internship soon. Where I can’t… look like this. But yes. Just going through my degree - I had a final a couple days ago. Fuck, it was so embarrassing.”
“Did they judge your hair?”
“Called it apocalyptic, but I aced it.”
“Nice. What was it about?”
“Embalming, mostly,” he sighs. “All the chemistry about formadelhyde I had to learn.”
“Fun fact,” Sansa grins, “do you know they use it in clothing?”
… He somehow had not known that.
“What? Really? They forgot to cover that part.”
“Well,” Sansa says, “I used to crash fashion school lessons, my brother’s boyfriend snuck me in. I learned a lot. I think it’s because of the preserving qualities, though I’m sure it wasn’t… all of it.”
“I mean,” Tyrion blurts, “it’s a preservative but it’s also a disinfectant. Destroys bacteria and their food supply, and it’s a dehydrator, there’s a reason why we use it that much.”
“Hm,” Sansa nods, starting to put aluminium stripes on his hair - fuck, he looks ridiculous like this, “one wonders why you don’t just use alcohol then? Because I thought it was kind of carcinogen.”
Well, she did listen to those lessons for sure.
“It’s cheaper,” Tyrion sighs, “a lot cheaper. It cuts costs. Guess I’ll resign myself to the cancer risk.”
She snorts. “Please,” she says, keeping on placing those stripes carefully, “I’m pretty sure that’s exaggerating a bit. There, they should rest for half an hour. I have to place a few calls now but if you want to read while I’m at it feel free to, just don’t move your head around too much.”
“Roger that,” Tyrion nods, and settles back in the chair.
He has a feeling it’s going to be long, but at least she’s very good company. Jeyne looks about to say something but then another woman comes in the shop and she goes to greet her, and Tyrion goes back to his Chinese sci-fi book that he’s really enjoying and hopes that at the end of it he doesn’t have to shave his head because that dye was that bad.
—
Half an hour later, after washing away the remover, Sansa has moved on to applying the first round of pigment to his hair - the blue did go out, but it still looks…. well. Bad. He can see it just looking at it in the mirror.
“So, she says, “is your internship at a funeral home?”
“Yes,” he replies, “it’s during the last six months of the degree, then you write your thesis and you get your license, and honestly, it’s a nice funeral home. I hope they hire me for good. Anyway, it makes sense. We need to have… experiences with, uh, cases, you know, uh -“
“You can say bodies,” Sansa grins brightly, “it’s fine. I know what you do in funeral homes.”
“Oh, thank God,” he blurts. “I’m sorry, uh, people tend to get queasy when I mention them. The bodies, I mean.”
“That sounds nonsensical,” Sansa shrugs, “what do people think happens when they die? Anyway, you can absolutely say that. Hm, here we go, I think these can stay. Another… yeah. Half-hour, forty-five minutes? Get yourself comfortable. I’ll go mix those toners meanwhile.”
Oh. Right. The toners. Fuck, he can’t wait for this entire dye business to be over. Honestly, he hasn’t done that when he was fifteen, he should have stuck with it.
He grabs his book back and starts reading it again, except that he finds himself wishing he could chat with Sansa some more and he needs to get that thought out of his head right now, no reason to set himself up for failure.
He reads on.
—
Later, she’s washed his hair again and she’s still mixing the toners.
“Yeah,” she says, “I think this need a bit more work, but I’m curious. Is there anything you don’t like about your school? Because you sounded really excited before.”
Did I, Tyrion thinks, but then again… he almost never talks about it to anyone except Jaime or Bronn because everyone else thinks it’s morbid, and somehow this girl who owns a wholly pastel shop actually seems to enjoy discussing the topic, so why the hell not?
“I mean,” he says, “I think we should do autopsies.”
“Oh, you don’t? I’d have expected it.”
“Eh,” he shrugs, “me too, and I think we should for, you know, completion and so on, but we don’t, so I guess I’ll read up on it.”
“But,” she says, “hypothetically,” and she’s kind of smiling slyly, what, “let’s say that someone wakes up while embalming them. What do you do then?”
“I mean,” Tyrion replies, slowly, “I think there’s a pretty huge difference between a living body and a dead one?”
“Sansa, please,” Jeyne says as she combs through the hair of the other woman, who looks… a tiny bit disturbed, but neither Jeyne nor Sansa are, so… who cares. right?, “never mind that you need a bit more toner, but I think there’s a thing named rigor mortis that’d make it pretty fucking obvious.”
“That,” Tyrion replies, “also if one gets stuck in a fridge for a few days I think you’d be dead anyway. Not to be, you know, morbid.”
Sansa mixes a bit more toner and smiles wider. Right. She was so fucking with him. “I mean, you did pump them full of carcinogen just before, right?”
“Right,” he laughs as she tells him to lean back and starts applying the toner to his poor roots, “we did, technically.”
“Just stay still,” she goes on, “it’ll be another hour, I think. Then I can cut.”
Well, he decides, at least this entire process is being not overtly miserable.
He leans back and lets her apply the toner and then cover it with the aluminium stripes all over again.
—
“So,” she says later while Jeyne is going through the third client of the day and he’s sitting on the chair again after his hair was thoroughly rinsed and washed for the umpteenth time — he lost count, honestly, but now it does look like his usual shade, sort of, he thinks, “can I ask what was this infamous bet about? Also, I can see your hair is naturally wavy — should I just trim the edges? Because I can see you cut it yourself and it’s not bad but you kind of hacked at them.”
“Er, yes,” he says, “sounds good. Wait, naturally wavy?”
“It is,” she says, “I can recognize it.”
“I, uh,” he coughs, “I don’t think I ever had it long enough to notice?”
“It’s the exact same as your brother’s,” she shrugs, “just a bit darker, but again, this should tide you over for a while. I mean, by the time it wears off whatever travesty you did to your hair in the first place should be fixed and it’ll be as before and no one will notice.”
“Then - I guess you can trim only and I’ll see,” he says, his throat suddenly feeling dry. No one ever compared him to Jaime in that sense without making it… well. About how he’s not the person with the good looks in the family, so this entire thing is just - weird. “Anyway, uh, you can ask about the bet. I mean, it’s just embarrassing.”
“I’m listening,” she says, cutting the edges of his hair slowly, and surely she puts a lot more thought it in than he does while cutting it, but then again… it’s her job and he learned because he didn’t want his father’s barber to go near his head.
“Er, so,” he clears his throat again, trying to figure out how to tell her the sanitized version of it while sparing her from all the family ugliness, “I was out drinking with the brother and the best friend at the same bar we’ve been going to for months because they have good drinks and the brother absolutely had a crush on the bartender, except that he came from a, uh, toxic relationship, let’s put it like that, and I thought he wasn’t going to fess up ever, so - we were drunk and it came out and I said of course I’d dye my hair that horrid color if he fessed up to her and like, I thought he never would but he actually went and did it and — yeah. I mean, glad for him that it went well but not my greatest moment.”
“Aw,” Sansa replies, keeping on trimming, “I like a nice love story. I imagine he doesn’t share our interest in formadelhyde.”
Why does his heart beat a tiny bit faster when she says our interest?
“No,” Tyrion shakes his head, “he’s more into nerding over Middle Ages weapons, but at least he didn’t tell me Six Feet Under was boring, so.”
“I loved that show,” she replies, “who’d say it’s boring?”
“It’s my favorite,” he shrugs a bit as she puts away the scissors. “And a lot of people, but it seems like you have good taste.”
She nods as she grabs some lotion that she supposedly has to pass into his hair before drying it. “And what about you?”
“Sorry?”
“Well, he had a nice love story going into port, so what about you?”
“Er,” he hopes he’s not blushing, fuck, he’s usually not — he doesn’t fluster, fucking hell, “I — really am not looking. My family kind of… fucked up the only serious relationship I had going for me and most people get put off at the whole I want to be a mortician thing, so.”
“What kind of family fucks up relationships for other people?”
“The kind we come from,” he sighs, “but at least he’s out of that circus and I’ll be the moment I graduate.”
“Nice,” Sansa nods, “now just hold on a moment and I’m drying it.”
He nods — she grabs an hair dryer and starts blowing it and yes, he can see she got the exact shade right now that it’s not wet anymore, and — well, of course it’s her job to make it look good but the more she proceeds the nicer it looks, and now he can vaguely see what she meant when she talked about natural curls, and also… it feels fluffier? Lighter? He has no fucking clue, but the moment she’s finished — well.
“Fuck,” he admits, “I don’t think my hair ever looked this nice in my entire life.”
She grins. “I know how to do my job. Another moment.” She sprays some more lotion on her hands and runs it through his hair again. “This was just for a bit of nutriment, but there you are. You know, if you treat it a bit more nicely you might not need it me to make it look good.”
“Yeah, well, and what if I’d like to come back here instead?” He blurts, not knowing what the fuck he’s aiming for, but then she grins back a bit wider.
“I always like making new clients,” she replies, “especially when they’re cute and they don’t only want to talk about the gossip in magazines. That gets boring after a while.”
Wait, did she call him cute?
“Tell you what,” she keeps on as she takes the mantel off him and waits for him to get off the chair and follow her to the counter, “let’s say I don’t give all new clients a ten percent discount but I do give it to the ones I like.”
What the fuck —
“So, here you go.”
She hands him a receipt… with a fifteen per cent discount. “But you have to promise me you won’t use that crap dye anymore. That’s probably more cancer-inducing than formaldehyde could ever be.”
He has to laugh at that.
“Fair,” he says, “I won’t. Maybe I’ll come back before my last final. It’s two weeks from now,” he says, slowly, “I might want to look good for it. As much as it goes, anyway.”
“Oh, I’ll make you look incredible, don’t you worry.” She takes his card, swipes it, hands him the POS. He’s sure he doesn’t let it drop just out of sheer force of will. The payment goes through, she gives him his receipt and he pockets it, his hand still sweating —
“I’ll see you to the door,” she goes on, and she follows him out.
“So, Tyrion,” she grins again, “see you in two weeks?”
“Oh,” he replies, “absolutely.”
“And let me know how the internship thing works out. I like to know what’s up with the clients I like,” she winks, and then she leans down and kisses his cheek before going back into the shop.
Tyrion just stands there dumbfounded and only takes a few steps from the shop, and he didn’t mean to eavesdrop but he hears Jeyne the moment he starts walking away and —
“Sansa, I know you said you’d be forward after that asshole Harry, but I never saw you being that obvious. You really liked our mortician or what?”
“So what?” Sansa replies, and Tyrion thinks he’ll faint. “No point in playing hard to get and all. When he comes back I’m absolutely asking him out for coffee or something. I did like him.”
“Good for you,” Jeyne replies, “he seems nice and you deserve a nice guy. Even if that dye was a really crap choice on his part.”
“Oh, if I have a say in it no bad dye is ever coming near that hair. It was so nice,” she replies, and at that point he leaves because he really shouldn’t be doing this and he will faint, but —
But he smiles to himself all the way home.
He thinks he’s never looked forward to a final that much, and if she does really ask him out for coffee, no way he’s being an idiot and saying no.
And if he’ll brush up on cool embalming facts before then, well, you can’t blame him, right?
End.
#sanrion#tyrion lannister#sansa stark#jeyne poole#sansa x tyrion#those are the tags i suppose???#my fic
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"mr assassin" Roommate!Shinsou Hitoshi X F!Reader Part 2
Part 2 of your Roommate/Assassin!Shinsou is here! First of all I wanna thank y'all for liking the first part so much! In this part we go deeper in darker theme of it, so just a fair warning.
my masterlist. Hope you have a great day and happy reading!
Tw for : Assassin!Shinsou theme, female reader, gun usage, slight insecurity, NSFW for the most part on the later chapters, drug usage, corrupt government talk, harrasment
Day five of living with your new roommate. He hadn't shown much of an interest in harming you...
That was swell.
You huffed out a breath of relaxation when the realization hit, but not also that, things weren't as bad as you expected! The thought you'd get a nasty roommate who would leave much more bigger mess than you was on the mind... but he seems to be the one who cleans as well? A welcome surprise indeed.
Shinsou was an enigma, waking up early at five am, neatly sorting his clothing and coming back late at 11 pm, he didn't seem restless, which could only mean he probably has a second accommodation where he rests and eats as well. It also explains why he only had one bag with him which you had decency and never saw what was inside. Besides...
He had given you a glare yesterday when you stared at it for long with those white pupils of his.
Even though he was soft spoken, he always managed to find a way to poke fun at you before he left. Granted, you were quiet surprised when he made you a french toast every morning! He barely knows you, but you were grateful to have found a roommate that in one way or another showed his gratitude. Afterwards, you felt obligation to one up him and return the favour. Now dragging your dear friend out, you giggled at the phone text from Uraraka as she immediately started spewing jokes about your potential 'future' with him.
„What an idiot.“ You grinned to yourself, walking down the street to the meeting place, you were about to go shopping with her, you still had to supply yourself with comfortable winter clothing.
„Y/N!“ Uraraka's voice reached your ears.
„Hey! Long time no see!“
„Very long time indeed!“
Uraraka rushed her step to give you the biggest hug there was. She was the sweetest friend and was always there for you no matter the circumstances. Now both of you dragging yourselves in the clothing store
„You just got off from work right? How was it?“ She asked, looking at time, it was now 5 pm.
„Tiring, its even worse because they fired colleagues before summer so now all of us have extra hour of work.“
„Oh no. But at least you will be rewarded more no? More hours equal more pay.“
„Nope, it's the same job in the end, they just extended work time.“ Frowning at the work contract on the mind, it was a very high chance it will drastically change soon as well.
„It's very... bad.“ You nervously laughed as you walked together.
„One time they fired someone from storage, only to replace them with boss's relative. By law its forbidden, but they made up a name for the new position that does the same job in storage. So it seems valid, but its not.“
„Ah... it happened here as well, but uhm.“ Uraraka started
„Hmm?“
„There's been some disappearances from our parent company, we are having a bit of a rescheduling on our own as well.“ Uraraka nervously chuckled and scratched the back of her head, it was quiet obvious there's been some action going on on her end as well.
„But enough about that, how's Shinsou~?“ She teasingly leaned in and poked her pink cheek.
Your mind shifted to the now roommate, the intimidating figure had you stuttering for a second. Obviously, Uraraka shouldn't of hung out with Mina so often back in college days, because it was so obvious she wanted to pull out some flustering on your end as well. Her curiosity especially hit the peak since she heard your voice hit higher notes when talking about him.
„I-I.. U-um. Okay, fuck! I can't!“ Both of the palms now covered your face to hide the embarrassment.
„Ahah! Is he that hot? You didn't react like that for so long!“
„Shut up!“ You huff out „It's enough that he made a toast for me yesterday, now I don't know how to return the favor. I want to get close to him, but he's unapproachable.“
The brunette put a finger on her lower lip in deep thought.
„Maybe if he's so busy, you can make him little lunches in a box, since he's so busy.“
„Uraraka, that's so childish.“
„It's not! You have to show him your soft side! Poke around, maybe he likes it.“
„My soft side?“
Grimacing as she advised, you were afraid of getting your feelings hurt. Now hesitantly picking up shirts and pants from the shopping stand, you managed to pick decent clothing for the upcoming winter before the prices skyrocket, it was expensive already but you managed to find something cheap. Your eyes trailed to find a plain white scarf, it was really nice quality, and rather cheap, but the sudden thoughts redirected to Shinsou as fingers tried out the material.
Maybe its not a bad idea to try and open up, you'll try but there should be equal effort on his end as well. Now snatching the scarf from the stand, you both bought your things and left the store, suddenly being nudged on the shoulder by the pink cheeked individual, you let out a relieved laughter while walking home for today.
...
„No, no! Please, Spare me!“
„I'm afraid job's a job.“
„No, please! My wife-!“
-SNAP-
„... Operation successful, returning to the main area. Prepare for body disposal.“
„Roger that Mindjack.“
On the broad daylight, Shinsou had eliminated yet another target for today, this time it was a business man whose life spiraled down in gambling addiction, the man who had hired him said he owned too much and knew too much to be kept alive.
Drugs and gambling went hand in hand, it was no different that the client probably had some shady stuff going on on their end as well. Shinsou had to keep his eye open on this one as well.
„Dispatched him quickly?“ Shoto came by side to Shinsou while adjusting dark gloves on.
„Yeah.“
„Good. Let me help you up.“
Several moments later, a truck came by to pick the dead body up, Kirishima's disguise as a trash driver made both of them cringe for a moment, but quickly brushed it off as Shoto and Shinsou threw it away. The cleanup crew should get rid of their traces now, all he has to do is get away as fast as possible from here. Shoto and Shinsou entered in the truck and drove in silence.
„You blocked the spot quiet nicely Shoto! Made a nice clearing for Shinsou to execute.“ Kirishima praised
„I merely blocked the parking lot. I don't see it being worth a mention.“
„Man, but missions like these always for newbies rely on stalking and timing. And this was perfect.“
„Nothing is perfect in this line of business.“ Shinsou ripped off his gloves and cracked his own neck to relieve tension. „Karma will hit you back hard if you don't know what you are doing.“
„Yeah yeah, it isn't very manly if you're in it just for cash, I mean... I'm rooting for justice and y'all, don't go thinking I am blind to what you guys are doing.“
Shoto and Shinsou fell silent. It was hard to swallow the truth, the car ride to the safe house wasn't long, soon Kirishima hit the brakes and came to a stop to the small abandoned storage house on the outskirts of the city. Shoto jumped out to take care of the body while Shinsou assisted with it, after they were done, Kirishima checked the contract for the job well done and handed the payment. A block of dollar bills now in their hands, the digital transfer of money would raise eyebrows in eyes of banks, so the money transfer was best if it was physical.
„Here you go boys! Boss says that the next contract is gonna be handed out tomorrow, you are free for the rest of the evening.“
„Tomorrow already?“ Shinsou asks.
„Yeah, what did you mean with that question?“
„I was thinking of looking into the client of the previous contract. Do some research and possibly eliminating him.“
Kirishima clicked with his tongue while Shoto huffed out and fiddled with the block of money in his hands.
„Sorry man. Solo contracts wont get you money, and gateways like us wont help you since we put too much at stake. You are on your own if you are gonna kill someone who is off the list.“ Kirishima explained
„Why would you even do it?“ Shoto asked, „Its not like the guy did you anything bad.“
Before Shinsou could answer Kirishima pat his back two times before turning on his heel to store his equipment away and head home himself for today.
„Mindjack has always been like that, even before you started working with. He sorta goes off on his own at times, seeking who needs killin' and who doesn't. That's why we hired you Shoto.“
„Can't blame me for doing what I think its right.“ Shinsou lowered his head, „All I need is time, That's why I was taken aback when a new contract was announced for tomorrow.“
„Alright alright, Mr. Assassin. You'll get your time. Someday. For now, this handsome manly man is going to go home for tonight! I'm going to get myself some hot bath.“
„See you Red. I'll be going too, Goodnight Mindjack.“
The departure was short, Shinsou took his bag and changed clothes before heading back, the bad smell could of easily rub off on him and he didn't want you to start speculating things. Even though he mostly ends his victim's lives in a way where no blood can be shed, it was a close call when she started eyeing the bag yesterday. He hated it, but he had already planned out way's to kill the roommate he was living with for any situation if she found out his true work.
'I don't need any of you to help me in my solo hunt.' He thought to himself, putting his black leather jacket on and helmet, he checked out his surroundings before revving up his bike and driving away.
The evening was busy as people were going back from work, it was 6 pm after all and he was stressing out on the fact that he will have to see his roommate. Maybe he could take a spin? Or start investigating on his own, but he didn't have time, he needed it. Rumbling of the bike eased tension he had from the committed crime, but only barely. As he came to a red light he slowed down and realized he was shaking badly, he knew it was not only from the setting sun and chilling air slowly creeping in, but also of stress. The realization that he might get caught always hit him harder after it settled in his mind. He inhaled deeply and eyed the nearby passengers. His eyes land on a woman in distance he never thought he would run into.
It was you, and you have been on your way to the flat with things you've gotten. The fact you saved up on the flat made you relax and indulge in the little shopping spree with Uraraka and groceries. You smiled from ear to ear nevertheless the tiredness creeping on you from the day.
„Mm...“ You sighed and rolled your shoulders.
„Maybe I'll make the thing she told me.“
You honestly looked like a happy child after realizing now that you have a roommate who pays for half of the expenses, you have extra cash to buy for things and make food at home. It wasn't a big deal to go out and buy something since it was cheap to buy a box of instant meal, but you wanted to cook your own food for a long time now. As you looked in the grocery bag and already beginning to think of the recipe you'd think for it, you suddenly bumped onto a stranger who didn't quiet follow his surroundings either. The harsh impact almost made you fall behind flat on your backside, but you managed to find balance. 'How rude-!' you thought.
„Ah-! S-sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you sir-„
„Watch where you are stepping wench-! I swear, women like you need to fucking know their place and stay at home.“
Excuse me?
Since when did this idiot have any right to find you to get his frustrations out?
You frowned at his sentence, knowing better not to engage with a random incel on the streets at evening hours, whose breath reeked of beer and bad hygiene, you decided to clutch your bags and pass by him hurriedly.
„Don't fucking ignore me!“
„Hey! Let me go!“
The man captures your wrist harshly and doesn't let go, now pulling you towards himself, he makes your belongings and your body stumble forward. His other hand wrap around your waist and starts dragging you along with him. Trying to shake yourself away only resulted in him recapturing you. He started laughing and you only now realize he quiet probably meant to bump into you.
He was trying to kidnap you-
„I said you are a bitch! Now you'll know your place-!“
„Let me go!“
Closing your eyes, the strong grip bruised your wrist and you yelped in pain, Your eyes veiled with tears as his disgusting sweaty hands found their way on your thighs to try and attempt to carry you, but the hold that was on you was suddenly broken free and a strong impact of a punch made the man fall flat on the ground. You were quiet sure you heard something broke as well.
„Agh! Son of a-!“
The adrenaline spiked in your veins and you immediately snapped out of it to see what was going on. Another hand rested on you almost protectively, you raised head to see a dark dressed figure that was very familiar. You were quiet shocked to find Shinsou held you close to his chest, wasn't he supposed to work until very late? You hear his quickened heartbeat and deep breathing as he gazed into the eyes of an attacker. Clutching onto him, you immediately felt more sorry for the drunken individual that had attacked you. Hooded eyes with dark eye bags were visible with blood rush, he stared down at his victim like a prey.
„I honestly can't believe how uncool you are, attacking a woman.“ He tilted his head on the side „Piss off before I do anything worse.“
The drunkard scrambled to his feet, he held onto his nose, groaning in pain inflicted by just his one punch.
„You fucker-! You broke my fucking nose!“
He charged again at Shinsou and you. This time, Shinsou quickly dispatched him by a high kick in his stomach, stealing all the air from his lungs. He hunched over and fell flat face forward, deeming him now unconscious. Your mouth went agape at his form, even though there were no visible passerby's, the drivers could certainly call police and at any moment and both of you would get caught.
„Shinsou!“ You panicked, finally reacting at the scene.
„Come on, lets get the hell out from here. He's bad news.“ He pat your shoulders and helped you scramble the bags that were on the ground.
He led you to climb on his bike that you were quiet hesitant to get on at first, he didn't let you get acquainted as the time was limited and you let out a noise of protest at first.
„We have no time, grab onto me.“ He revved up his bike and it rumbled.
„You just gonna escape like that!?“ You asked „What gives he's not gonna blame it on us? The police-“
„Police is not going to do shit.“ He glared at you „Unless you want to call them right now and deal with this sort of mess on Thursday evening, be my guest.“
You whined again, thinking thoroughly on his words you knew he was right so you followed his orders. If anything Shinsou was a witness if both of you ever end up getting caught. Holding onto the bags in your hand, you decided it was a better option to leave. Now climbing on you adjusted yourself in back of seat, the view in front of you were of his back, now starting to get illuminated by the street lights. He smelled nice, despite it being closed off by the leather jacket, his vibrant purple hair was flattened by the helmet, and you couldn't shake off the thought that you were about to hold him. You let your left hand slip around his stomach while your right one grips his shoulder.
Fuck, he was solid.
The gas made you back up a bit and grip on him tighter as he violently sped forwards to escape the scene. You hid your face in his back and held onto dear life. You weren't acquainted with bike's, most of your life was spent driving in cars and public transport, but you were quiet thankful to have him tell you when to lean on sides as you took turns.
„Just like riding a bicycle“ He claimed.
You relaxed after he talked more about it, there was something about him being calm in this situation made you very thankful. If he hadn't shown up...
Well, you wouldn't like to think about it.
He slowed down and stopped as the lights turned orange, then red, he took this opportunity to check on you. Shinsou leaned back and turned to you.
„You okay?“
„Y-yeah, still a bit shaken up about it. I... think I'll be fine. What about you?“
„I'm good.“ He replied shortly, his curt expression not giving anything else away.
In his mind, there wasn't anything he could do to help, the thought of comforting a victim was very alien to him. He could manage dispatching the person quickly, but he would rather much leave a therapy session to others. There was something about how he emotionally closed off himself that helped him do what he was working for, but it was never in favor when someone needed emotional support, like you right now.
His thought process was interrupted by a white scarf now gently falling around his neck.
„Your facial expression doesn't quiet match your body language Mr. Shinsou. Here, have this, your body is shaking.“
„What is this?“ He asked, tenderly reaching for the soft white fabric and letting the warmth of it settle around his neck.
„Its a scarf... I was planning on giving it to you. You are a good roommate to me.“
His eyes lit up at the realization, his knee was thumping up and down in nervousness from what he had been overthinking about, whats wrong with this woman? Is she going to be the one giving him the therapy session? He better not go soft now. The light turned green and you took a last turn to your place and he parked nearby. Both of you got off and he helped you by giving you a hand and with the bags.
„You didn't have to.“
„That's not true, I had to! I know work's probably putting a lot of strain on you just like mine is, and I know you mean only well, hell, you've been cooking an extra toast just for me.. and now you saved me.“
Both of you came to a stop as you entered the building. You sighed a little bit as words of gratitude escaped you
„And I just want to say.. Thank you."
Wide eyed like a kitten, he seemed so innocent if he didn't act so suspicions all the time. But this time you were so happy on seeing your roommate warming up to you. He was speechless for a solid second, he raised the scarf just a little bit to hide his mouth and nose.
Was he blushing?
"You really think that huh?" He asks, it was a simple question, but it got you stuttering madly and you looked onward, taking big steps as suddenly your flat was the lifeline of a place to be in right now. Shinsou himself didn't want to admit it but looking at you being cheerful after the events set his mind at ease.
"O-of course! A-and don't think that that you are ever a bad person, whoever is telling you bad things at work... They are wrong, because you are actually a really nice person... I think." You said without looking back.
„Now you are just sprouting nonsense.“ He chuckled and followed closely behind.
„Come on! I'm gonna cook us dinner. We are gonna feast.“
#bnha shinsou#bnha shinso hitoshi#shinso hitoshi x reader#shinso hitoshi#shinsou hitoshi#mha shinso x reader#mha shinsou#shinso#shinso x reader#shinsou hitoshi x reader#shinsou#bnha reader insert
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Hi!! I have returned lmao! Been thinking about Takaaki and Taka’s relationship this time. This ask may not be Ishileon related, but it’s another nightmare comfort related one. Why do I keep thinking about nightmare comfort? Idk lol guess I’m a sucker for comforting words and characters being there for each other when they’re in need. I’m sure Takaaki was always the one to comfort Taka after he’s had a nightmare in the past. But maybe one night when Taka is home from Hope’s Peak for the summer, it’s Taka that does the comforting. Not sure what Takaaki’s nightmare would be though… maybe something similar to Leon’s but a little more frightening/intense? But Taka is there to give him a big ol hug and calm him down! Guess I’m kinda in the mood for a father son bonding moment haha. Sorry if these nightmare comfort related asks are too repetitive lol. If they are getting repetitive, please let me know! If you aren’t a fan of that one, there’s also this;
Taka tending to Takaaki’s injuries or the other way around
Heyyy!
I'm happy to have any ask (so long as I can fit it into my AU!) So ask whatever comes to mind! I'm happy to just get asked things!!
But yep. I think I gots me an idea. And pfft, you underestimate my ability to make ANYTHING have an Ishileon flavour if I wants. Not massively gonna do it here, but Leon will make a (kiiiiiinda) appearance.
Trigger warnings for nightmares, child abuse and murder underneath so please avoid if you need to.
So I hope this is okay! And thank you as always for your ask!
**********************
• As a police officer, Takaaki has seen some terrible things.
• As an Ishimaru, he's forced to see the most gruesome and upsetting cases that no one else will take.
• You name it, Takaaki has probably seen it.
• His colleagues don't care about him and so he's never given any time for counselling after them either.
• And as he's gotten older, when Taka moved away, he started having nightmares.
• Reliving cases in his mind, becoming the victim or the murderer.
• But he's a strong man. A proud man.
• And so he copes with them.
• But there are times when even the strongest need help.
• Taka and Leon are home from University one half term and are spending a few night with Takaaki.
• And it just so happens that Takaaki has just come off a tough child abuse / homicide case.
• It was rough, really really rough. One of the worst this year and hit just a little too close to home for Takaaki's liking.
• But he hasn't seen the boys in a couple of months and so can't let them see that he's bothered.
• They have a nice meal together, a nice catch up then all head to bed.
• As always, Takaaki falls asleep quick - the strain of his job always catching up to him.
• But tonight, there will be another nightmare.
• There's a small boy in the distance with a man beating him, hurling abuse at him.
• Suddenly Takaaki become the man and he's staring down at the broken figure of the boy - no longer breathing.
• He panics and does the only thing he can think to do - put him over his shoulder and run outside.
• In the dead of night, he runs through the streets and to the bridge - dropping the body over the side without a second thought.
• And as time seems to freeze, as he's staring at the falling boy, he recognises him instantly.
• And with the recognition, Taka opens his puffy, bloodshot eyes and screams.
• Takaaki shoots awake, covered in sweat, heart racing, tears in his eyes.
• God damn it. Not another dream where he replaces the children with his son.
• Well, there's no hope in getting back to sleep now so he throws a shirt on and steps outside...
• ...and comes face to face with his son, who's got his fast asleep boyfriend wrapped around him like a koala bear.
• It's an awkward moment - Takaaki hasn't seen Taka awake this late for a long time (especially not carrying another boy like that) and Taka can see the tear stains on his father's cheeks.
• 'Going for some water?'
• 'Y-yeah. That's right.'
• 'Okay. Give me a few minutes. I'll join you.'
Takaaki can only blink as Taka walks past him, heading towards his bedroom and skillfully opening the door without disturbing the sleeping boy in his arms.
• He briefly wonders how often this happens before coming to his senses and heading down to kitchen.
• Taka comes downstairs a few minutes later, smiling awkwardly at his father who's nursing a glass of water at the dining table.
• There's a tense silence as Taka fills the kettle and switches it on - neither man looking at the other until Taka breaks the silence.
• 'Leon has sleep paralysis.'
• Oh.
• Of course Takaaki has heard of this. He needs to know quite a lot as a policeman.
• But he wouldn't have expected someone as young and confident as Leon to suffer...
• 'He has good nights and bad nights, you know? On bad nights, we have to get away from the room, clear his head and get him back to sleep.'
• 'And that happened tonight?'
• 'Mm. Third night in a row.'
• 'I...I'm sorry.'
• Taka just shrugs, throwing him a sad smile as he puts something into his mug.
• 'It's worse for him, you know? He's the one that experiences it. Nothing that I feel will ever compare to his fear. I find the best thing I can do is be there for him, however he may need me. That's what you do with people you love.'
• There's a lump brewing in Takaaki's throat - when did his little boy get to be so grown up?
• Suddenly, there's a mug in front of him and the smell of hot chocolate wafts into Takaaki's face.
• He glances up at his son, who's smiling warmly and sadly down at his father before gently resting his hand on his shoulder.
• 'I'm here.'
• Takaaki bursts into tears - all the stress of work, the gruesome cases, the trauma of Taka's childhood, the loss of his wife.
• All of it finally becoming too much as he sobs into his son's chest.
• And Taka simply holds his father, lets him cry and apologise and talk for as long as he needs.
#kiyotaka ishimaru#takaaki ishimaru#leon kuwata#ishileon#ask request#yaysof11037#tw: nightmares#tw: child abuse#tw: murder
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Just another one shot with Cliff x Reader, enjoy
Lending a Hand
Cliff ran over to his fainted Pupitar as it crashed backwards into the dirt, frantically checking over it's injuries while his opponent gloated.
"Ha, and I thought Team Rocket was supposed to be tough."
Cliff ignored the remark as he grabbed for his bag, desperately searching for a health potion as his opponent sauntered off. As he reached the bottom of his bag he realized he must be out. Dammit! He pounded a fist into the ground cursing himself for being so forgetful. And now his Pupitar might pay the price for it.
He shouldn't be this sentimental about a Pokemon and he knew if any of his fellow Team Rocket coworkers found out they would tease him mercilessly for it, but this was one of the very first Pokemon he ever caught as a Trainer and was ultimately what made him decide he wanted to specialize in Rock Types. He had worked hard to evolve it to a Pupitar and was working towards its final Tyranitar evolution just like he was working hard to become a Leader with Team Rocket. Although a loss like the one he just had was not Leader material and definitely not something that should have happened to an Officer such as himself.
Scooping up the Pupitar he frantically looked around the road he was on. He knew there was a town the way he had come but it was miles away and it had taken him most of the morning to get to where he was now. The Pupitar shook as he held it and a knot began forming in the pit of his stomach. Would he be able to get somewhere and get help before it was too late? Swearing under his breath he tucked it closer to him and began to run down the dirt path back the way he came. Even if he could keep this pace up it would still take at least an hour to get back to the town he came from, he just hoped that would be enough.
You shut and locked your back door, double checking that you had everything you needed in your pack before heading to the shed to retrieve your bike. It was a beautiful day out and just the kind of afternoon that would be perfect to get some more practice in with your new lens. You had finished processing your photos from over the weekend and while they were good they were not quite as good as you would like them to be. Which just meant you had an excuse to take more.
As you pushed your bike up the walkway you called for Emi, your Emolga, that obediently flew over to perch on your shoulder, trilling excitedly. He knew what getting the bike out meant - going somewhere out of town where there would be plenty of fresh berries and worms to eat. You crinkled your nose at him, giving the top of his head a little scratch before you set off.
It didn’t take you long to pass the edge of town and get onto the main path, a wide open dirt road with lush fields on either side. Your destination was a small forest a few miles up the road that had plenty of nice scenery to take pictures at. As you picked up the pace the warm summer breeze tousled your hair and Emi flew off your shoulder to do loops in the sky above you. It was definitely what you would call a perfect summer day.
Cliff’s legs and lungs were burning and despite his efforts there was still no glimpse of the town in sight. Jogging to a stop he fought to catch his breath, but even taking a brief rest felt like a betrayal as a fresh wave of guilt washed over him.
"It's gonna be okay buddy, we'll get you help soon." Although he wouldn't be caught dead talking to a Pokemon like that in front of his colleagues, especially not Sierra, in this moment it felt like the right thing to do. After a few minutes he felt like his breathing was under control enough to continue on but when he looked up at the road he spotted a cloud of dust being kicked up by something a bit further down. Hoping it was someone that could help he rushed forward, waving an arm to flag them down.
Emi was the first to notice the man running towards you and returned to your shoulder chirping incessantly before flitting about in front of your bike. Spotting them yourself you back pedaled, maybe a little too hard, making the bike skid to a stop in a cloud of dust. As the man approached it only took you a moment to notice the large, red R Team Rocket logo on his uniform and you gasped audibly, your first instinct being to turn your bike around and hightail it out of there. You were about to call Emi back to you when you spotted the Pupitar in the man’s arms and hesitated, it clearly looked injured.
“Hey!” Cliff called out, hoping to Mythics that whoever it was had some sort of health potion on them as he jogged to a stop. You were eyeing him warily and he couldn’t help noticing that you seemed poised to turn around. “Wait...please.” He panted out, motioning to the Pupitar. “I need help...it’s injured and I don’t have any health potions left.”
Emi was flitting around by your side, the yellow spots on his cheeks crackling with electricity in warning. “Shh, it’s okay Emi.” Motioning for him to come back to your shoulder you turned your attention back to the man as you toyed with your conscience. On one hand Team Rocket had a reputation, and it was not a good one. Could this all be a ploy to divert your attention away from your own Pokemon or distract you from something else? On the other hand he did look desperate and the Pupitar did look like it needed help. You always carried at least one health potion in your pack for emergencies and after a brief hesitation you flipped down the kickstand of your bike and hopped off. Setting your pack on the ground you began rummaging through it until your hand landed on the bottle.
“Here.” You offered and he hastily took the potion and administered it. A few moments later and the Pupitar’s eyes opened slowly, its coloring returning to a more normal shade.
“Hey buddy.” Cliff smiled down at it. You couldn’t help noticing how handsome his smile was as a warm flush crept across your cheeks. But that was neither here nor there. Job complete you stood back up, brushing any dust off your knees before returning your pack to your shoulder and swinging yourself back onto your bike. This hadn’t been much of a detour and there was still plenty of time to get some photos in.
“Thank you, oh!” Cliff hadn’t realized you had gotten back onto your bike. “Listen, I really can’t thank you enough, um…?”
“Oh, its (Y/N). Glad I could help.” You smiled warmly, flipping the kickstand of your bike back up as Emi chirped impatiently on your shoulder. Not wanting to stall any longer you straightened out and began pedaling forward.
“Wait, (Y/N)!” It seemed wrong to just leave it at that. You were clearly kind and when you turned back you seemed to be practically glowing in the afternoon sun like the angel you apparently were. And now that he wasn’t preoccupied and had a chance to really look at you he wanted to find something else that would prolong the conversation. “Thank you, if there is anything I can do to repay you…”
“How about just don’t let it happen again?” You smiled again and gave him a small wave before taking off again, heart fluttering in your chest, much to Cliff’s dismay.
The sun was just beginning to set as you pushed your bike up your street to the small building you called home, the front of which served as a small studio for your budding photography business. As you got closer though your heart skipped a beat when you saw the man from earlier sitting on your front steps. He noticed you as well and stood with a smile. That damn cute smile.
“Um, hi?” You questioned, stopping short of your house as you eyed him up unsure of whether you should be worried or not.
“Hi…” Cliff started before nervously faltering. He had figured you lived in this town as it was the closest to where you two had met and seeing as you were on a bike and didn’t seem to be carrying much it was the logical assumption. You also had a logo on you pack that he had matched up to the one on the front door here and had taken a chance that you might be back at some point. But now that he was here he was beginning to realize how it must look to you. “I’m sorry, I know this must seem...a bit weird. And I will absolutely leave if this is uncomfortable.” He laughed nervously. “But I was coming back into town anyway and I really just wanted to say thank you again. I really don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”
You were silent for a long moment as you considered what to do. This was definitely a bit strange but oddly enough you weren’t uneasy about it. Team Rocket reputation be damned, someone who cared that much about their Pokemon was decent in your books. “It’s not a problem, happy to help. But you really didn’t have to track me down just to say thank you again. I really didn’t do all that much. Although," You paused, your brows knitting in question. "how did you find me here anyway?”
“Maybe I can tell you over a cup of coffee?”
Smooth. You thought, biting back a grin. “Alright, just let me put my bike away first. I think the StaryuBucks down the street is still open.” You began pushing your bike down the small walkway next to your house but paused before you got very far and turned back. “You know, I don’t think I ever got your name?”
“Cliff.” He grinned, leaning against the railing as he waited for you.
“Well, Cliff, it's nice to meet you.” You returned the smile before turning back towards the shed and hoping he didn’t notice the flush that was spreading across your cheeks as you did so.
#pokemon go fanfiction#team rocket cliff#pokemon go cliff#cliff pokemon go#pokemon cliff#leader cliff
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Property Management with Jason Marcordes - Fernando Angelucci
https://u109893.h.reiblackbook.com/generic11/the-storage-stud/property-management-with-jason-marcordes-fernando-angelucci/
On this episode of What is the Deal, the real estate podcast that gives answers, we’ll be covering what is the deal with property managers. The job title is self-explanatory, but there is more to know. Joining me to open the doors on property management is our good friend and colleague, Jason Marcordes.
Jason Marcordes, Founder, Managing Broker, Property Manager of Landmark Property Management of Chicago is a full service real estate brokerage dedicated to going above and beyond for our clients.
We handle everything real estate related – including buying/selling, leasing, property management, rehabbing, construction, development, real estate investments, and receivership.
We offer services such as finding and placing a resident, coordinating maintenance, rent collection, resident renewals, managing vendor relationships, ensuring compliance with local regulations, and more…
In this episode:
Who are you and what do you do?
What does a day in the life of a property manager look like?
What are the requirements in Illinois to become a property manager?
Why should a real estate investor use a property manager?
What are the decisions someone will be faced when choosing a property manager?
How would you advise someone to choose the right property manager?
What is the most common mistake you see real estate investors make when it comes to property managers?
On the flip side, what is the most common mistake you see property managers make?
What advice would you give a real estate investor looking to buy their first rental property?
What advice would you give someone considering starting a property management company?
Fernando O. Angelucci is Founder and President of Titan Wealth Group. He also leads the firm’s finance and acquisitions departments. Fernando Angelucci and Steven Wear founded Titan Wealth Group in 2015, and under his leadership, the firm’s revenue has grown over 100% year over year. Today,
Find out more at
https://www.TheStorageStud.com
https://titanwealthgroup.com/
Listen to our Podcast:
https://thestoragestud.podbean.com/e/property-management-with-jason-marcordes-fernando-angelucci/
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Fernando Angelucci (00:02): Hello everybody. Welcome to this episode of What's The Deal, real estate podcast that gives answers. Today we'll be covering what's the deal with property managers. The job title is somewhat self-explanatory, but there is more to know. So joining me today to open the doors on Property Management is my good friend and colleague Jason, Marcordes, hey Jason.
Jason Marcordes (00:37): Fernando. Doing great, thanks for having me.
Fernando Angelucci (00:42): Yeah. So thanks for coming up. Let's jump right into it. So who are you? And what do you do? Give us a little history on yourself.
Jason Marcordes (00:50): Absolutely. Like you said, Jason Marcordes I'm with Landmark Property Management. We are a company that specializes in residential property management in the Chicago land area.
Fernando Angelucci (01:03): Okay. how did you get into that? How'd you get into real estate?
Jason Marcordes (01:07): Yeah, absolutely. I actually got into it by accident, went to school to be a teacher. While I was in school, I went to work for my uncle's Property Management company and I fell in love with real estate. So, that's how I got my start. I've been in Property Management for about 12 years now, worked for a couple of different companies and then just decided that you know, wanted to start my own company
Fernando Angelucci (01:32): Now, Property Management, isn't the only real estate activity you do. What else do you do in the real estate world?
Jason Marcordes (01:39): What else do we do? In addition to Property Management, I've done some flips, some buying holds wholesaling as well as, you know.
Fernando Angelucci (01:50): You had some Airbnb's as well, didn't you?
Jason Marcordes (01:52): I did, Yeah. That's tunny, had a handful of Airbnb's, so short-term rentals, that was interesting.
Fernando Angelucci (02:00): And then you also, didn't you do some management for self storage at one point too?
Jason Marcordes (02:04): Yeah. So that's how I got my start as commercial Property Management. So did some distressed real commercial real estate, did some self storage, did some receivership, I've done just about everything in property management, So.
Fernando Angelucci (02:21): What is a receivership?
Jason Marcordes (02:23): Receivership is typically when the bank is going to foreclose on a particular property, that process takes a long time. So the bank it asks the court to appoint a receiver and basically that receiver steps in and appoints a property manager to take care of that asset. So when the bank actually takes it back, whether it be a year or two later, it still has value.
Fernando Angelucci (02:55): Okay, It's interesting what exact
Jason Marcordes (02:57): Yeah. they do you know, they oversee the property management, the maintenance, all that stuff. And then they report back to the court throughout the proceedings, just to make sure that, that particular borrower isn't kind of running that property into the ground.
Fernando Angelucci (03:15): Right. Great, So I know when you first started the Property Management Company, it was all you. But just like our companies, you have started implementing traction and building up your company, delegating and then elevating. So I have a, kind of a two-part question for you here when you first started off, what did a day in the life of a property manager look like originally? And then once you implemented traction started hiring and delegating, what does your days look like now?
Jason Marcordes (03:47): That's a fantastic question. Two totally different answers, a day in a life of a property manager as like a solo property manager. It's usually number one your weeks or seven days a week. and you work way too much. You're doing pretty much everything or Jack of all trades. You're doing the accounting, the advertising, the rent collection, tenant communication, any type of legal work as far as evictions. You're doing a little bit of everything and it obviously depends on the time of the month and the season. Most of our rentals happen in the summer. Obviously the rent collection happens toward the beginning of the month, but as like you said, we did implement EOS. It has been a complete game changer. So as you start to grow, as you start to delegate, you can kind of divvy up those responsibilities and delegate. So right now for my company, I'm primarily the sales guy. So I talked to all the potential clients and then I also am the COO. So I basically make sure that everything's kind of running in the, running smooth and headed in the right direction.
Fernando Angelucci (05:00): So you look over the departmental heads make sure they're getting their stuff done, and the reporting back to you.
Jason Marcordes (05:04): Yep, absolutely.
Fernando Angelucci (05:04): You're kind of in charge of big relationships, bringing new clients in big vendors things like that nature, right?
Jason Marcordes (05:14): Yeah, that's right. And it's a small company, so we, I basically, I hold a couple of seats the two biggest is like the visionary and the integrator. And I'm kind of, I got a foot in each. so as we grow, I will step out of that integrator role and just be the visionary for the company.
Fernando Angelucci (05:36): So speaking of your trajectory through Property Management, I know it certain times in your life, you had a lot of doors under management on a more of a commercial scale. And then now you kind of, when you went back and started your own company, you started with a few doors and then started leveling up again. So tell me, where were you at your peak as far as the amount of doors you were managing and then where are you now and where do you see yourself going over the next 12 to 24 months?
Jason Marcordes (06:05): Yeah when I was working for other companies, I was kinda in the corporate world and I had about 2000 doors underneath me. I had a full team of course different departments, all that good stuff. With my own company, we've been, I want to say three 25ish, maybe 350 at one point, we had a big fund out of California, that we ended up parting ways with. So we're actually smaller now, but again, just part of the journey realizing that, quantity or top-line thinking is not always the best.
Fernando Angelucci (06:42): Right. I know we've had some conversations offline about firing clients, the ones that the 20% that take up 80% of your time and how keeping those types of people around is a counter-intuitive when you're trying to grow a large company. So that kind of brings me to my next question, which is you know, in Illinois, which, where we're located right now, no Joe Blow off the street can just become a property manager. Right? So what are the requirements? What are the training required to get that designation to become a property manager in Illinois?
Jason Marcordes (07:18): That's correct, Yeah. So in other States it may not be necessarily the same, but in Illinois, if you're going to manage other people's property, you do need to go and get your broker's license. There are some activities in Property Management that you don't actually needed to do, but should be very limited. So as a rule of thumb, if anybody's looking for a property manager, they're gonna want to make sure that they are licensed they're a licensed broker in Illinois.
Fernando Angelucci (07:46): Okay. That makes sense. When, so the way that we met was because I had a couple of properties that were in rougher parts of town, or I need somebody with expertise. Even though I am a broker myself, I know you had the expertise, so you took over those properties and did really well with those. We actually just sold off the, I think the last couple that we had at a pretty significant profit. So that was great. And thank you very much for helping me out with that. I always, I really loved working with you because, I was able to trust you. I just gave you a spending limit. And then I said, I don't want to hear from you, Jason, just get it done, which worked out really well for me. I think it worked out well for you too. I don't think I was too much of an overbearing client, right?
Jason Marcordes (08:30): No, it was perfect. And honestly, that's how we prefer it to be. And about 90% of our clients are out of state or out of country. So we try to do that. We have a spending threshold, and we just, you know, we don't call you every time the sink starts to leak or, you know, some small repair like that.
Fernando Angelucci (08:51): Yeah. So that brings me to my next question, which is, you know, why should a real estate investor consider getting a property manager or maybe look at that question a different way who should consider being, getting a property manager and who should not?
Jason Marcordes (09:07): That is a great question. I guess it depends on your investing philosophy, kind of where you're at in life. If you have the time and you have the temperament, then by all means, you know, you can manage the property yourself, if you are, let's just say you're a working professional, accountant, attorney, whatever, software engineer and you are picking up your first property. But you have a full-time job, then I highly suggest getting a property manager. So it just depends on you and your availability and kind of, I guess your experience as well, dealing with tenants or rentals,
Fernando Angelucci (09:48): Let's touch on some of those. So the first one you mentioned is time requirements. Let's just use, let's say not your super beginner investor, but let's say somebody like me when I originally came to you a couple of years ago, and I had something like, I think nine doors in Illinois, total, let's actually, let's reduce it down. Let's say somebody with three doors, three single family homes, what type of time is required for managing, let's say three single family homes in a let's call it a C maybe C plus area.
Jason Marcordes (10:25): That's gonna, that's a tough question to answer. And it's going to depend on a lot of different variables. I mean, that's one of the reasons you hire a property manager is just because, you know, from an ROI standpoint, it makes sense. So although it's more expensive than doing it yourself, when you factor in your time, it's going to be a lot more expensive. So us as property managers, you know, we can leverage our team, we can leverage our experience, our software, so we can do what you're going to have to do in a fraction of that time.
Fernando Angelucci (10:58): And then you also touched on temperament. So what do you mean by that? Can you expand upon it?
Jason Marcordes (11:04): Yeah, I mean, you know, at the end of the day it's a people business, you know, we, as property managers have to talk to our clients, which are the owners. We also have to talk to the tenants you know, and the tenants you know, sometimes they run into issues and you have to be ready to deal with that. You have to have empathy. You need to, you know, understand where they're coming from and what's happening. And at the end of the day, you need to take care of business and, and take care of your tenants.
Fernando Angelucci (11:38): Yeah. What, how does that time or temperament requirement change based off of the asset grade or class? Like, for example, I know you manage a lot of properties on the Northside of Chicago and really nice neighborhoods, very high rents. But then you also manage some properties and more working class neighborhoods, lower rents, lower purchase prices. Give me kind of the dichotomy here between the two types of assets.
Jason Marcordes (12:03): Yeah, it's tough to make, it's not a hundred percent, but we definitely do see the lower the rent. It's usually the higher, the I guess higher the amount of hours that you have to put into the property on a monthly basis. So you know, that may be for a couple reasons, if the property is not renting for a lot, it may not be the nicest property. So you're going to have a lot more repairs, a lot more things to take care of. And then, you know, we also see, you know, correlation between credit scores. If you're not paying your bills, if in your credit is not great. Then there's a higher likelihood of us having to chase that rent, work out payment plans, do stuff like that.
Fernando Angelucci (12:57): So with the credit score, and I guess this is kind of a broader question, what type of screening requirements do you prefer to have for tenants? And I know that some investors will actually overlay their own requirements, either stricter or less strict on top of what you require, but let's say it's your own property that you're managing? What are you usually looking for from a tenant?
Jason Marcordes (13:22): It depends on the property. Every property is going to be different because every property is in a particular area. It's going to demand a different tenant and different criteria. So kind of like you were saying Northside versus Southside, you know, we see different credit scores. You know, it's tough in some of these neighborhoods to get a 700 credit score, but on in other neighborhoods, that's actually fairly common. So that's on a, on a per property basis. I mean, if you're talking real estate that I own, I want to see 650 plus three times the rent amount in income. No evictions, no collections.
Fernando Angelucci (14:06): Okay. And when you say three times income versus rent, is that gross income?
Jason Marcordes (14:13): Ideally it's a net.Yeah
Fernando Angelucci (14:14): Net.
Jason Marcordes (14:14): Yeah.
Fernando Angelucci (14:16): Okay. So I remember when I was going through the process of finding property managers, I actually called and interviewed close to 25 property managers. I remember when I first called you.
Jason Marcordes (14:30): Not surprised me.
Fernando Angelucci (14:31): Yeah. When I first called you. I think I asked you, I told you upfront. I was like, Hey, Jason, I think I'm going to need an hour of your time today. I'm surprised he didn't hang up the phone on me. There was a lot of people that did hang up the phone on me when I told them that. So I appreciate you sticking with me. With that being said, what are some of the decisions an investor would be faced when choosing a Property Manager? What are the types of questions they should be asking?
Jason Marcordes (14:57): So there's a, there's a ton. I mean, we can dive into this. Do you, you know, do you want a big company or a small company? you know, what are the pros and cons of each that's something that you have to decide? I mean, I we are a smaller company. I prefer smaller companies, but you know, at some point it seems like it's really tough for property managers to scale and to, to keep the same level of customer service. So I see that in some Property Management companies around a thousand units some less or some more that are really good understand, you know, how to scale and how to still provide a quality service. So do you want the big or small company? Do you want to be hands-off or hands-on as a landlord?
Jason Marcordes (15:46): And then the biggest one, in my opinion, is are you shopping on quality or are you shopping on price? Are you just looking for the cheapest company out there, or you looking for the highest quality company may not be the cheapest, but in the long run, if they give you the highest quality, they may be able to save you some substantial money over the long-term. If they can just prevent, you know, one busted pipe, over the long haul, or just rent your unit one month quicker than the cheaper property management company, it really could save you thousands over, you know, over the term of the agreement.
Fernando Angelucci (16:27): Yeah. And that's one of the things that I always tell new buy and hold investors is, you know, what really kills your profit is vacancy and turnover. So let's use an example of a $2,000 a month rental, if all of a sudden that rental goes vacant and it takes three months for you to re-rent it, let's say it's in the middle of winter and a harsh like polar vortex, you know, and you have to do say $4,000 in turnover, costs, paint and carpet, and maybe a couple of repairs. And that's 10 grand potential that you just lost on an investment that you're, you know, you're bringing in 2000 bucks a month that could meet close to two to three years worth of profit that you've lost because of those vacancies and those turnover costs. So I definitely hear what you're saying. I know I've, I've gone through the gambit before we found you. I had a, one of those low fee property managers, and it ended up costing me probably close to $25,000 over the long run until we finally switched over to you so that I completely understand and agree with what you're saying, as far as you get what you pay for. Do you want high quality, or do you want just to nickel and dime on fees and end up losing money in the long run? Right. Penny wise, pound foolish, I believe. Is that the phrase? So I, man, you're hitting home with that.
Jason Marcordes (17:53): Yeah. And I mean, it's the same, like with any other important profession, like, are you going to choose the cheapest doctor? You know, if you have to have surgery or dentist or attorney, like you want the best representation, this is a rental property. I mean, for most people, it's a huge chunk of their investment portfolio. You know, a lot of people, this is their retirement.
Fernando Angelucci (18:16): Right.
Jason Marcordes (18:16): So do you want to trust that with anybody the guy who's willing to do it for next to nothing? Or do you want a reputable company to, you know, to look after that for you?
Fernando Angelucci (18:27): Yeah. Speaking of, you know, reputable companies and what you're looking for, I know you've dealt with tons of investors. You've also dealt with tons of property managers. I see all the time when we talk, you know, offline, how you're getting clients from other property managers that were not doing their job well. So this is kind of a two-part question. Number one, what is the most common mistakes that you see real estate investors make when they choose property managers? And then the second part is what are the most common mistakes you see when someone is finally actually chose a property manager and starts that relationship that day to day or that month to month communication?
Jason Marcordes (19:07): Okay. So the first part what are the mistakes you see when selecting a property manager, that is going to be a lack of due diligence. So they're not doing the due diligence they need to, they're not Googling it. They're not reading the reviews. They're not looking at BiggerPockets, they're not asking the right questions. So I'm huge on that, I even tell the people that are calling us, I say, Hey, you know, go look at our reviews, read them go on BiggerPockets, ask around you know, that's important. Don't just go with the first person you come across. On the the second question once you start that relationship, the, one of the, you know, the biggest mistakes that Property Management companies make. I see a couple, you know, number one, lack of communication and transparency.
Jason Marcordes (20:10): So, you know, we hear all the time from potential clients. You know, the reason they're coming to us is they, you know, they emailed their property manager, you know, three times over the last two weeks and they still haven't heard back, lack of transparency that they don't know what's going on at the property. They can't get answers. The second thing is just the inability to take care of maintenance items. A lot of times when we take over the property, tenants will say, Hey, I've been trying to get this done for two, three, four weeks, and you know, they, the Property Management company just never responded to it never took care of business. And then the last thing see quite often is, just the inability to rent units and bring down that vacancy. You know, we've talked to, clients, that are coming from Property Management companies that tried to rent their unit for two, three, four, five, sometimes six months, and no activity. And then you pull up, you know, you pull up the listing and there's like one picture or no pictures, you know, it looks like crap, you know, there's no description, stuff like that.
Fernando Angelucci (21:20): Uh-huh. Yeah. That makes a lot of sense. When, you know, half of the work is finding the property manager, but then the other half is actually buying the right property. So what advice would you give to a real estate investor looking to buy their first rental property?
Jason Marcordes (21:38): So my, you know, I got a ton of advice, I love to advise new investors. First thing is get your finances right. So pay off your debt, credit card debt, automobile debt, whatever it is, pay it off, start saving some money. Once you get your finances right, you know, develop your game plan. What do you want to do? Do you want to do flips? Do you want to do buy and hold? Do you want to do short-term rentals? So figure out the game plan. Doesn't have to be anything extravagant. Write little one-page business plan, write out your goals. And then the next thing is build the team. You're going to need a good broker, good property manager, good contractor, good attorney you know, people like that.
Fernando Angelucci (22:23): A good wholesaler.
Jason Marcordes (22:24): A great wholesaler, absolutely, that's one of the most important. So build that team, and then the last thing is really execute like you, I mean, we've all been on BP. We've all, you know, we've all listened to podcasts like everybody and their brother wants to be a real estate investor and you could research it for years. I mean, you can never run out of stuff, content to take in, but at the end of the day, you gotta pull the trigger sometime. And for me, you know, I am on the Jesus, I'm drawing a blank. I'm on the.
Fernando Angelucci (22:57): Analysis paralysis side?
Jason Marcordes (23:00): The House Hacker Bandwagon.
Fernando Angelucci (23:02): Okay.
Jason Marcordes (23:02): I love it. I mean, it just makes sense. If you can buy a property for three and a half percent down, a fixed rate, 30 year mortgage like that is that's money. So for your first deal to minimize your risk, you might as well do you know, do the house hack.
Fernando Angelucci (23:20): And you've done a few house hacks now. Right? Tell us about those.
Jason Marcordes (23:24): Yeah. I mean, like I said, it's a no brainer. I mean, especially if you're a broker. That's like another hack in itself. So if you hear if you're a broker, you get a two and a half percent commission for buying that property. So you go FHA, you have to put three and a half percent down, you get your two and a half a percent commission. You're down 1%. You know, from there you can, you know, you could do different things. You can ask for a closing credit, you can ask for a higher, tax probation. You can actually get paid to purchase that property.
Fernando Angelucci (24:03): And you've done this now, I think what two or three times, right? I mean, you're on your, the multi-family that you own now is this your third house hack?
Jason Marcordes (24:12): So as far as house hack, this is my second.
Fernando Angelucci (24:15): Second. Okay.
Jason Marcordes (24:16): Yeah.
Fernando Angelucci (24:17): Yeah. Tell us a little bit about the deal that you're in right now. I believe it's what a four or five flat something like. that?
Jason Marcordes (24:23): Yeah, it's a four flat. So with the house hack it's gotta be one to four, you know, anything five pluses is a commercial, so different loan product. But yeah, I mean, I did this one exactly like you're talking about, or we're talking about, I guess, you know, three and a half percent down, I got a two and a half percent commission. I got a 3% closing credit and I jacked up the tax probations, my lender, actually, he, you know, we had issues with the loan because we couldn't, we were actually getting paid to buy the property. And with FHA, they don't really appreciate that. So we actually had to take some of that extra money and pay down our mortgage, rate or interest rates. So, you know, I locked in a 2.99 when it was, you know, that was a hell of a deal. Now, you know, when you didn't think rates could go much lower, they did lower them. So you're seeing that pretty regularly, but man, 30 year fixed rate at 2.99, like it's incredible.
Fernando Angelucci (25:25): Right. Well, that's good. So kind of switching gears here now this is teacher competition, but what advice would you give someone considering maybe starting their own Property Management Company?
Jason Marcordes (25:46): Don't do it? No. what advice would I give people that are starting their own company? Number one, be very selective of your clients, or the properties you're taking on. You know.
Fernando Angelucci (26:01): What do you mean by that?
Jason Marcordes (26:02): Well, what I did, which is very common in any industry, you know, when you first start your business, any business is good business. Property Management is not like a singular transaction. It's really a relationship. So, you are going to be married to that person, whether it be, you know, six months, a year, 10 years, whatever. So you want to make sure that you vet that person and that is somebody you feel comfortable with, you know, working with over the long haul for the next couple of years, same thing with properties. You want to make sure that you feel comfortable going in that neighborhood, dealing with that property. It's not like a problem property, always going to be you're always going to get maintenance calls or you can't rent it to, you know, a qualified tenant. So.
Fernando Angelucci (26:49): Uh-huh.
Jason Marcordes (26:49): That's my number one thing is like, be selective. It's your company, you have to design it the way you see, you know, your goals, kind of fitting that issue. So the other thing is, you know, charge what you're worth again. Ua common thing for new businesses is to give discounts, with Property Management, it's not a single transaction. So you make that discount on the front end, you're going to be dealing with that for a long time, going forward. And Property Management is not high margin business, although every one of our clients apparently thinks that way, but it's, it's not, it's not a high margin business, so it's easy to break even, or even lose money if you start giving out discounts. So.
Fernando Angelucci (27:38): Yeah.
Jason Marcordes (27:38): You know, if you're a high quality property manager, you should charge like it.
Fernando Angelucci (27:45): I like that, charge what you're worth, I mean.
Jason Marcordes (27:47): Yeah.
Fernando Angelucci (27:47): In the last few companies that we started in the very beginning, we were kind of hit with that as well, charging them a little bit less, just trying to gain the business. And just like you said, what you find out is not all business is good business.
Jason Marcordes (28:00): Yep.
Fernando Angelucci (28:00): Especially once it becomes a longer-term relationship. You want somebody to, you know, really appreciate what you do and see the value. You know, we always talk about leading with value and coming from an abundance mindset perspective. And it, once you start doing those things, it takes a while to kind of unwind the damage that you did from, you know, giving out discounts and taking losses on certain things, just because you thought that the top line growth was worth it at the sacrifice of the bottom line. So totally makes a lot of sense.
Jason Marcordes (28:39): Absolutely. I had a major shift last year from top line and bottom line thinking. And man, it has had an incredible change in our business at really in my life, my level of stress. I mean I highly suggest you know, getting into that mindset.
Fernando Angelucci (28:58): Well, so how can people reach you? And is there anything that they should know before they try and contact you?
Jason Marcordes (29:06): Not really. I'm an open book, so I love to help people. You know, if you have any questions, need help with anything, need a referral. I have tons of referrals, lenders, contractors, whatever you need. You know, feel free to shoot me a text and we can set up a time to talk.
Fernando Angelucci (29:23): What's your what's your website address?
Jason Marcordes (29:27): You can go to www.ChicagosPropertyManagement.com, that's Chicago with an S. www.ChicagosPropertyManagement.com. You could also reach out there, there's a contact us form.
Fernando Angelucci (29:37): Cool. Well, Jason, I really appreciate you coming on. It's always good to see you, my friend.
Jason Marcordes (29:42): Yeah, it's been a pleasure. Thanks for having me.
Fernando Angelucci (29:44): Talk to you soon.
Jason Marcordes (29:46): All right. Take care.
#real estate#real estate investing#the storage stud#storage stud#fernando angelucci#self storage#alternative funds
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RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 4 Review/Remix
A pretty good episode this time, and only 30% pain and despair so things are looking up! But when it goes mean it goes real strong with the mean. Lots to think about here, and boy oh boy do I wonder what we’ll see next week!
For a nice touch of levity, we open on Robyn telling a funny story about a time Joanna lost a fight to try and pass the time. Maybe she’s trying to cheer Qrow up too, but as someone who gets very bored at work pretty often I get the appeal of talking just to keep sane. She sees Qrow is too lost in his brooding about Clover’s pin to listen to the story, and Jacques is too busy fussing over a fly buzzing around his head (the Pence jokes write themselves). Tough crowd indeed, though her joke about Ironwood needing to pay for cell block entertainment does get a smile and a chuckle from the sad old bird. She takes this chance to apologize, possibly again and we’re just seeing this conversation now, for what happened with Clover. Many would argue it is really her fault for getting trigger happy back in the airship when Qrow was the one under arrest, but that’s an argument not worth having because the blame soup was being stirred by way too many cooks to make a clear verdict. Qrow, however, blames himself for deciding to team up with Tyrian, which was certainly a bad move. It was a heat of the moment thing, and he makes it clear he really would have preferred working with Clover to re-detain Tyrian again, but Clover just wouldn’t let up on his arrest orders. The real pain though, he admits, is that he had really started to let his guard down around this guy and thought her could actually make a partnership work again without his Semblance tossing 1,000 monkey wrenches into the mix. Feels like a fairy tale dream, vanishing like a rose petal on the wind, like every other friend. I of course added the part about rose petals, because you know he meant Summer and the unity of STRQ she probably represents in his mind. Robyn knows a thing or two about having a Semblance that impairs your relationships. Not many people like being around someone they can’t keep anything private from, and she can call out and mistruthing with a touch of the hand. Qrow has to admit he hadn’t considered someone else having that kind of personal trouble like he does, but their conversation is ended by Harriet coming in to toss Watts back in his cell. She’s pissy at Qrow and says he shouldn’t have Clover’s pin, but he retorts he has no reason not to have it since he’s not Clover’s killer. She still has a hard time believing that since Harbinger was the murder weapon, but Robyn finally raises a very good point. Miss Hill is a literal walking polygraph and all they would need to do to prove Qrow’s innocence is let her out of her cell and take her hand. But they won’t do that because they don’t want to prove what’s really true here, they want to cling to a convenient story so they don’t have to admit what really happened. Cuz if they put those glasses back on and face the facts, that means reevaluating what side their on if Clover died because he refused to help detain a serial killer before arresting a former colleague and that’s the real problem. Hare had already threatened that if she was gonna open the cell she wouldn’t use her hands for a friendly shake, and the dig at her allegiances and her ignorance towards Ironwood’s sins almost riles her up to the point of taking Robyn’s bait. But Marrow calls her back down to sensibility and she leaves in a huff. Robyn lays back and sighs at how there was almost something exciting happening.
Cutting to an actually exciting scene, Yang Jaune and Ren are outside the city chasing the Hound through a mountainous canyon on their bikes. It can fly while they have to navigate the rocks, and their bikes aren’t handling the cold terribly well. Yang laments that none of them can fly, but that inspires Jaune to pull out his shield and get closer to Ren. He’s gonna get his teammate up there, and Ren immediately understands how. Leaping off his bike and onto Jaune’s shield, he’s launched through the air by the burst of Gravity Dust in the crest and uses his grapple line blade to wrap around the Hound’s leg... and get dragged through the air like Curious George at the end of a bunch of balloons. Still, he’s weighing it down some and can climb up the line to get in close... when he’s not getting swung around against the cliffside. To further slow it down, he shoots his other line around a big rock that gets dragged behind them for about 5 seconds before the Hound flies higher up and the line comes loose. Ren gets knocked around even more while Yang finds an inclined path that gives her enough height to start shooting at the Grimm. It handles this fairly well, by dropping Oscar from its mouth into its hands and flying ahead of her with a loud roar. Apparently one of its Grimm for all Seasons abilities is to call for backup, because dozens of Centinels suddenly burrow up out of the rocks and ground around them and several Teryx swoop in above. Navigating becomes that much more difficult for the blondes, especially when one Centinel spits acid and hits the thruster of Jaune’s bike. He thinks fast and leaps off his bike to launch off another Grimm in front of him and flip onto a rocky overpass where he almost loses his balance and falls back down. Luckily Yang instead zooms by and pulls him onto her bike where they continue their pursuit. She does a great job of bobbing and weaving around the insects, but a Teryx lands in their path. Jaune tosses his shield grenade in front of a large rock and they drive onto it to tilt it into a ramp, launching over the avian foe into a spin between two more big bugs. They bump on a rock, but the Grimm cannot touch them with Yang’s driving. Unfortunately, they have a far more dangerous problem: They’re heading towards the edge of a massive cliff. Yang tries to make a quick turn but instead flips the bike over and launches both of them off to go tumbling off the precipice. Jaune tries to plant his sword in the ground as an anchor, but he doesn’t keep hold of it with their momentum and they both fall with a very believable scream. Big props to Miles and Barbara for this and the dramatic performances soon to come. Ren comes swooping in for a massive save and grapples Jaune’s sword with one weapon and the poor guy’s leg with the other. Jaune grabbed Yang by the hand so she’s fine too, but an incoming Teryx might soon negate it all. Luckily, Ren instead negates all their emotions with his Semblance and the Teryx passes them by. Less lucky, Ren being here means he’s not hanging from the Hound. He let it get away with Oscar to save his friends, and you know he’s kicking himself for it.
Shifting scenes from that tense gloom, we see Weiss decided the safest place to take Nora for the time being is her own damn mansion. Whitley answers the door and is about to try and berate Weiss for this but she is having none of it. She holds him at swordpoint and insists that they are coming inside. Whitley is very against the idea of harboring fugitives after the hit the Schnee family’s reputation has taken in the wake of its patriarch’s arrest for war crimes, and Blake is quite frustrated that this is what he chooses to complain about. The staff is all gone, Willow has retreated to her room and assumable to the bottle, you gotta admit Whitley probably feels more alone now than ever and is... coping in less than ideal ways. Weiss still seemingly carries a chip on her shoulder of wanting to prove that she is doing something actually important and she made the right move by leaving home to be a Huntress, so she insists that Whitley has no right to nag them because they are saving the Kingdom here. At least, that’s what my 2 semesters of psychology classes would tell me. Ruby plays intermediary between the Schneeblings and lays down their very minimal terms. Let them stay here a little while so Nora can rest and recover, and then they will leave him to his sulking and riches. Whitley begrudgingly accepts and asks what he has to do, and Weiss seems to relish this chance to tell him to go to his room. Finally flexing her big sister authority without Papa around to veto her in favor of his adoring son. But like Willow said last Volume, Whitley has been stuck in this house just like Weiss and Winter, and they could certainly try to treat him with a bit more fairness and sympathy. I’m sure it hurt him a little inside to have yet another authority figure bossing him around without a care for his desires. Still, he’s not giving much reason to make us sympathize so I say wait a little bit to see if he’s got any softer moments to come. Weiss directs May on where to carry Nora, and Blake checks on Ruby while they have this quieter moment. Possibly because she wants the chance to talk to her too, Blake suggests Ruby should try calling Yang to make sure things are okay, both between the sisters and in general. But that’s just it. She did it 35 minutes ago. Okay not really, but I wanted to toss a Watchmen joke in. Still, as much as Ruby worries how that half of the team is doing, she’s already trying to call them and it’s not going through.
We fade back to our three battered teens as Yang collects what scattered pieces she can from her bike, the only one they still have. But like I said, it crashed into a rock after they tumbled off and it’s in no condition to run anymore. So Jaune is trying to call for help and transport back to Mantle, but either Ironwood shut down all communication in the lower districts or they’re just so far out in the tundra that a signal just won’t reach. The latter would make sense, and explain why Ruby couldn’t reach Yang. Giving up on the call, the three instead trudge through the snow in the light of the setting sun back more or less the way they came. Jaune is dragging the bike along while Ren leads the way to an outpost he saw while getting dragged by the Hound. Yang notes how low their auras have been drained due to protecting them from the cold this long, and like a kid on a car trip asks how much longer it will be. Ren has no immediate answer so she asks again and he gives a snippy “I don’t know”. She can tell there’s something more bugging him and tries to coax it out of him after sensing the hostility in his explanation that he only got a glimpse of their intended destination before he had to abandon Oscar in favor of saving them. He refuses to discuss his deeper feelings because he thinks it’ll just waste time. This riles Yang up and she demands to know what his deal is, to which he insists she not worry about it. The argument keeps escalating from there. Things aren’t going smoothly enough for Ren? No, they’re not going smoothly at all, but boohoo Ren, that’s part of the job as a Huntsman. He doesn’t think it’s a job they should have at all, they weren’t ready for it or to make the incredibly damming decisions they’ve had to since taking that position. Sure, they had a few lucky breaks and near miss successes, but then they entered this losing streak that they can’t seem to recover from because the losses are too drastic and every choice they’ve made has been the wrong one. Yang refuses to accept such pessimism and insists that even if they haven’t done everything perfectly they still had to do something because inaction would have made things worse. But how could they be worse than they are now, Ren demands to know as they freeze to death out here. Salem has the Lamp and Oscar, and they have nothing but the cold winds. They may not have an army but they have the Maiden, Yang tries to counter, but because they haven’t let her to open the vault for Ironwood all of Atlas is just a buffet waiting to be chowed down on and it will all be their fault when that happens. Yang rightfully asks him if he seriously thinks letting Ironwood try and float Atlas away to safety will work out for him or for the people of Mantle he’s abandoning, but he argues that they shouldn’t even be the ones asked to make that call. He’s trying to spit the hard truths no one else wanted to face, but this is way too harsh and mean, especially for Ren. What are these hard truths, you ask? That Ruby is still too young to be a leader, that he himself is an orphan from a town that doesn’t exist anymore (which I guess shows how unimportant he is for someone thrust into this decision making role), and that Jaune, who by the way has been trying in vain to get the two to cut the shit and quiet down this whole time, cheated his way into Beacon. A damn low blow there, bro. Bringing back the deep wound from Volume 1. And you can tell he regrets it immediately, but to say that would mean backing down from his point. Jaune doesn’t even address the personal callout and just says alright, you don’t think we should have the job, good for you. I’m still gonna keep walking and get out of the cold because like it or not we were given a goddamn job to do. Maybe not in those words, but the meaning was there. Ren and Yang silently let him take the lead, probably feeling the hot wash of shame distracting them from the arctic chill. Yang still takes one last dig at Ren though by asking if it’s his goal to push everyone away, implying he’s being an asshole and not even Nora is sticking by him. Well... in so many words anyway.
We get another change of scenery with a dramatic violin stroke like something out of a murder mystery movie. Oscar is regaining consciousness, and he hears Ozpin try to reassure him to stay calm and that it’s gonna be okay. When he looks up, however, he sees Salem leaning in a shadowy doorframe staring at a smoky apparition in her hand and welcoming back her long lost Ozma. Judging by the childlike laughter and general shape of her smoke display, I think she was manifesting a memory of her and Oz’s dead daughters to try and reminisce about the days when they were still lovers. Oscar realizes he’s being held in the air from the Hound’s mouth and tries to struggle free as Salem notes how young and weak this new vessel is. She’s not even acknowledging Oscar, just talking through him to Ozma. It’s been what may have truly been centuries or even a millennium since they’ve last met, and dear Oz has nothing to say to his wife? Oscar does his best Ozpin impression to try and fake it till he makes it, but Salem knows her man better than anyone and sees through it to grab him by the face and call his bluff. But he really is still a separate person from Oz, so maybe he can be more cooperative to her requests than that old wizard. She still wants to know where the Relic of Choice is, since Oz clearly must have used an extra layer of deception to hide it opposed to the others, and she wants Oscar to reveal the trick. But that’s not a memory he has access to, and he tells her plainly that he doesn’t know. She believes him, knows Oz would hold that one close to the chest longest of all, so she asks an easier question. How does she go about asking the Lamp questions? She gets the standard coverup answer, the Lamp is out of questions so it’s futile to even try, but she refuses to believe that one. Instead she blasts the poor kid with an evil magic rainbow laser and lets him scream himself hoarse for a bit. His chest has scorch marks, or at least his clothes do, and he fearfully tries to pull away from her “loving” touch. Lying so easily about these things, he truly was reincarnated into a like-minded soul... but sooner or later one of the two in this battered body will break and Salem will learn what she wishes to know. He tries to insist he won’t tell her anything, but that’s why she has backup. Hazel comes in to literally gut punch this 14 year old until he coughs up his guts or the truth, whichever comes first. And he justifies it all by saying this is revenge for his defeat at Haven and from the still unforgiven death of his sister.
Salem doesn’t stay to watch the savage beating, instead walking the halls of Monstra with her lovely new pet. Cinder has been waiting in this hallway for a chance to speak with her Mistress, but is distracted by her immediate discomfort in the face of the Hound. Salem claims it is an experiment that she is quite happy with the results of thus far, and wants Cinder to get on with whatever point she had so she can get out of the way. Cinder wants to search for Penny, she thinks she can make up for the past blunder and claim the Winter powers for herself. But Salem just laughs at this. “She thinks, she wants!” It’s like hearing a cockroach tell you about its hopes and dreams. Mommy Salami does not give a fuck what Cinder wants to do, she has done nothing to earn Salem caring about that. Cinder, to her credit, does not take this dismissal lying down and tries to argue that they are doing nothing to further their plans when Cinder could be achieving a great victory for her Mistress by securing their way into the Atlas vault. Salem does not slow her pace, and says when it is time to act she will tell Miss Fall what she needs her to do. Cinder tries to argue, and is met by the snarling maw of the Hound turning on its heels to send her shrinking back. Salem has been pretty damn patient with this bratty girl, but she will not repeat herself again. You are not going the the ball, Cinderella, you are staying here and doing what your godmother tells you to because if you don’t you will learn just how easily you can be replaced and forgotten. Cinder gives up her case and assumes the position of submission, which is to say taking a knee and repeating her self-depreciating mantra that without Salem she is nothing. This satisfies Salem and she walks away with her dog in tow, leaving Neo to glare at Cinder as if wondering who is really the domesticated little pet in this place.
Cut to Cinder immediately rebelling against her given orders and heading for the airship insisting she just wants to go check on something and then they’ll come right back before anyone knows they left. Neo just floats along behind her because like hell she’s staying in the Satan whale when it’s this bitch’s fault she’s here at all. We get the last unseen shot from the trailer as Cinder looks out over Atlas and rationalizes that Salem doesn’t know Team RWBY like she does, she wouldn’t understand how determined they would be to try and save the world, and so it falls to her to check out Amity Colosseum again and see if they’re up to something. Neo seems annoyed and disinterested at Cinder’s petty little scheme, but they’re both caught off guard by Emerald arriving behind them and offering to tag along to help. She’s been getting better with her Semblance and asserts that she would be very useful. Poor misguided lass, searching so desperately for acknowledgement and praise you’re never gonna get... Cinder seems pissed that she was eavesdropping, but she’s not gonna turn down the assist. Time for an evil girls’ night out~
Back on the ground, night has fallen as JRY have found the outpost at last. Jaune hits a heater to get it running and prevent their freezing to death as Ren broods out the window and Yang is outside working on her bike. The leader takes this time to address the tension with his teammate. Yes, he did make a bad decision and cheat his way into the Academy. But when he found himself in that bad situation he realized he needed help and he asked for it. He turned his situation around and got better, became the strong person he is now. Holding onto this ideal that being strong means doing everything on your own? That was literally the issue Jaune faced in his mini character arc back in Volume 1, and he came out of it humbled and ready to accept support from his team. From Pyrrha. But she’s not here anymore, and Jaune is. Nora is, team RWBY is here for Ren. So Ren needs to understand that he can let them in, because the more he hides from how he feels the worse it’s gonna feel and hurt him inside. Ren goes outside to sulk under a streetlight, but Yang has come inside now to say that she’s found the part she needs to fix the bike so with a little more tinkering they can get it working and ride back into the city once they’ve got some R&R. Yang does take the time to say she’s sorry Ren said what he did because of her argument with him, but Jaune dismisses it for the time being as all three of them being under a hellish amount of stress. He’s been where Ren was before, he knows how much it hurts. Yang turns back to the tool bench to work on the thruster, but she’s got some inner turmoil of her own to vent about. She wants to know if Jaune thinks “She” thinks less of Yang for making the choice she did and staying to help Mantle instead of going to help fix Amity. Playing the pronoun game like this can be tricky, and Jaune fairly assumes she means Ruby since the two of them did have the verbal disagreement before splitting off, and Yang did question her leader’s decision making and leadership. He assures Yang that her sister will always love and believe in her even if they have squabbles like this. But it would seem Vomit Boy lost the pronoun game, and Yang was not actually asking about Ruby. Judging by the purple cannister she’s wrenching into the battered thruster, she was asking if Blake would think less of her because of these recent actions.
A lot of people seem rather torn about this choice in priorities for Yang, but allow me to explain why I think it’s not that bad of a writing decision. If there is one thing that has been consistent in this Volume it has been the confidence of other characters that Yang and Ruby will endure this clash of ideals and remain loving sisters. Usually these sentiments have been given by characters who are siblings themselves and know the strength of that bond, like Weiss and now Jaune. We’ve never actually heard either sister personally express any anguish or regrets over that argument, but we can assume they’re both still a little sour about it. But they have been there for each other to a depth that few siblings have, as evident by Yang’s story in Volume 2 about how she had to step up in raising Ruby in a lot of ways after Tai went into grieving for Summer. They’ve been each other’s best friend and closest confidant for so long, I truly believe their bond is clad in iron and they know it too. Meanwhile, a lot of Yang’s recovery arc in Volumes 4 and 5 was dealing with being abandoned by Blake in a time of need and it continued into 6 as learning to accept her back into her life and find a way to make their partnership work again. Shipping or not, they do have a strong bond that has been renewed by dealing with their combined trauma and killing Adam. And when that happened they both promised they would stick together and back each other up, but now Yang has been the one to decide she wants to split paths and do something else. She has good reason to worry this might have upset Blake, and we the audience know Blake is worried about how she’s doing. So, when faced with a color that reminds her of her partner, it makes some sense that Yang would try and get an outside perspective of if she’s fractured their bond. And if you ship them, that more magnifies the interpersonal concerns than really changes the problems.
Regardless, Jaune realizes this is a problem he’s not quite equipped to deal with and decides he’s going to get some rest in one of the beds in the outpost. He gets the strong feeling he’s gonna need it cuz it feels like things will only get worse before they get any better. As we pan out past Ren, whom Yang promises she won’t let brood himself to death out in the snow, we see cracks start to form out on the ice. That can only bode poorly for these poor kids. Many folks think this is a frozen over lake with some scary aquatic Grimm waiting in the depths like a megalodon Grimm shark or the sulfur fish Grimm that apparently were the winners of a fan design contest this past year. Personally, I’m taking a note from the opening and saying it might be a cloister of Apathy since their gross grabby hands wrapped around Team RWBY when they fell through the ice at the end of the intro. But we will have to wait and see. Thanks for reading, hope to see you and your notes soon!~
Edit: this came out a week late and we did indeed see what it really was. Boy were we not ready for the truth...
#rwby reviews#i hope to god someone got my grinch night reference#robyn hill#qrow branwen#jacques schnee#arthur watts#harriet bree#marrow amin#clover ebi#rip clover#yang xiao long#jaune arc#lie ren#The Hound#weiss schnee#whitley schnee#ruby rose#blake belladonna#may marigold#nora valkyrie#oscar pine#ozma#Salem#hazel rainart#cinder fall#neopolitan#emerald sustrai#what's under the ice????#apathy??#a dinosaur grimm?
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Do you rent in New York or you have a mortgage? I wanna move to NYC so bad after covid
Also thanks everyone for congratulating me. I feel really adult now and its kinda of scary when I think about it but am also super excited.
This is super long but its for my anon. I love talking about NYC real estate so let me tell you everything I know. Also if you make it here hit me up and I’ll take you out for a beer.
I have rented for years in NYC at least a decade on/off. I have lived in queens, bk and manhattan. I have paid $600 for rent and up to $2100 for rent. Its all about location in the city and also living conditions and what job you have. When I paid $600 it was my very first apartment I didnt live their long it was more like i just got to the city i needed a place to live in for a couple of months that was cheap but it was literally a closet deep in queens like basically long island at that point. So it wasnt the kinda of place you would stay in long. This is what I suggest you do. Look for a place in crown heights BK for $700-800 a month maybe for 3 months just to have somewhere to sleep at night while you find a job and get to know the city. Try to move to nyc with 2k in savings. My next move was to Astoria which is a young neighborhood in queens and super close to the city. Lived in another closest for $800 but I was by the city at least. I was in my first year of grad school so I didnt really have time to work so my options were limited but in my 2nd year of grad school I got a job working in this super fancy restaurant in the meat packing district and made bank in tips and thats when I got a “real” apt. Also I have so many stories about serving the super wealthy and movie stars in the meat packing.It was wild. You want to get a job like this just to get on your feet. The fancier the better tips but honestly even shitty dive bars in the east village have good tips. New yorkers are very generous because most have been where you are. Anyways my new apt was about 1k but the roommate was hell so I bounced out of there after 3 months and got an apt where I would come to meet my best friend and soul sister in the city. I got the biggest room I have ever lived in for 1100k in prime astoria and it was such a good apt. We had a hellish roommate but eventually she left. All these apartments were in Astoria. Astoria is a very affordable hip area to live in. I saved up my money graduated grad school got a real job and then finally I made the move into the city. Manhattan living is expensive. NYC isnt like anywhere else the money upfront they want for a studio is insane. So if your moving here do not aim to get an apt go on one of the roommate sites and just sneak into a apt where someone is moving out. So I moved into a shoebox in the Upper west side. It was $1850 and you had to pay first, last and security and the brokers fee (Oh lets not get into brokers fees people they are wild) so that was basically 1850x4 just for a shoebox studio(FYI everything is tiny in NYC, all the living spaces are micro. get use to it). So almost 8k but finally i got to live on my own. Lived there for 2 years. Move to chelsea because the UWS is beautiful but very family centric lived in this dope asf triplex in chelsea and paid 1900. Then left NYC to replace a colleague in London for maternity leave for about 16months. London is sooooo cheap compared to NYC its like the kiddie pool for expensive ass real estate. Thats why I laugh when brits are like its so expensive like bish you dont know expensive okay. When I got back I took over my friends place for the summer because she left to her hamptons pad and so I basically house sat but also paid reduced rent it was 1400 in prime Williamsburg. My friend is rich asf so my hard earned rent was her play money. After the summer ended I finally signed another real lease and thats where am at now. I adore this apartment its in prime williamsburg semi-lux and I just treated myself when I got this place. I work in a super stressful job so for me am at this point I dont mind paying to feel comfortable and have perks. I work my fucking ass off I deserve it. Ok so details on my new pad. So am going back to chelsea..... covid is a bish but lets thank her for crashing the nyc real estate market because there is no way i would be buying this apt if covid hadnt happened. I had been considering buying for a few years so I ave been saving but with no real plan. I told my dad last year during covid april that if the market dropped maybe I should buy. My family is from LA so my dad gets paying 2k in rent he did it for years too and he has been wanting me to get out of the rental market. Metro city rental markets are a racket. Anyways this would not be possible without my father. He basically said you get half the deposit saved and I will lend you the other half. Well around feb I had the half and my dad was like ok cool you find something let me know.Do not get me wrong my apt needs a TON of work thats why its so well priced and when I mean well priced I mean stupid expensive but well priced for NYC. I am going to need to redo the floors, rip out the kitchen, rip out the bathroom. Install overhead lighting, rebrick the fireplace and paint everywhere but its mine also am gonna have two months where I carry rent and a mortgage so I have 60 days to basically renovate if I get desperate I will sleep on my besties couch in brooklyn so I have am options but yea. Mortgage is close to my current rent at 2150 but I live in a COOP (this is going to be super confusing for the europeans. They like WTF is a coop?!?!?!) and so my building maintenance is about $800 on top of my mortgage. Its been a long decade of nyc renting to get here but I did. Now for you anon just do it. Look I tell everyone. Live in NYC for one year of your life it will change you entirely as a person you will learn to become a survivor here. What do they say? If you can make it in NYC you can make it anywhere. Its sooo hard and the city is literally the concrete jungle but its also amazing and so alive and so rich and yes you may find yourself one late night coming home after working 12hrs on your feet sitting on a brownstone stoop balling your eyes out thinking “I am not cut out for this” but I promise you the rewards you will earn back are irreplaceable. There is a reason people from all over the world flock here. It really is like no other place so if you can keep your head down. Work a couple of shitty jobs and get $1500 under you then pull the trigger. Take the leap! I promise it will change your life forever.
#lucidpantone anons#do it anon I promise you it will change you entire perspective on life#nyc is as brutal as it is beautiful
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Course Of Nature (6)
TW: Brief mention of suicidal intent. I’ll mark the passage with two asterisks (**) before it starts and two when it ends. It’s really short and the rest of the scene will still make sense without it. Chapter Summary: Growth! Ladybug and Robin might not be at odds anymore, and some weird guy with a white streak in his hair helps Mari out. Word Count: 5,263 (a chonky boi) Rating: G except there’s one T scene so uh. PG???? Pairing: DAAAAAMINETTE Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven The thing about Paris being so dark, even at night, was that it was hard for Marinette to fear the things that went ‘bump’ in the night as a child because she was usually able to identify the source of the sound. That absence of terror followed her through adolescence and was probably the reason she felt so comfortable sitting on her balcony rail at two in the morning, when the night sky an inky, unending expanse, and the world was asleep. Everything that couldn’t be explained away by childhood pluckiness could be attributed to being granted magic via miraculous, and there lay the problem.
The park plan was weak. Now that she was divorced from the situation, she could clearly see that her plan consisted of blunder after blunder, and it was only luck that helped her capture the Akuma. Luck, and Andrena’s fast paralysis.
Robin had told her in one of their earliest patrols that she relied too much on her miraculous. Of course it was yelled in the heat of an argument, but he probably meant it, and he was probably right. She remembered clearly enough what he said; that she didn’t know danger because she had yet to truly experience it.
At the time, Marinette was too consumed by hurt pride to properly consider what he’d meant. Though she couldn’t bring herself to agree with him, she couldn’t help but think that there was merit to his criticism.
Marinette picked the park because it was a wide space, easy to clear of innocents, and easy to see in. She’d failed to consider that the visibility would likely give advantage to their long-ranged opponent, and that the lack of cover could increase the fatality of each attack that the villain sent.
She’d been overconfident, and until Robin and Andrena arrived, she had barely half an idea on how to beat the villain. But she hadn’t been scared, or at least not scared enough to think harder or work better. She hadn’t even stopped to check on Chat during or after his time as a cactus, because without realising it, she’d already accepted that it was something that could be reversed with a ‘Lucky Charm.’
In a way, it might have been better to just see the truth in that and not prod any further, but Marinette was an over-thinker through and through. Now that she’d come to this realisation she couldn’t help but wonder if she was being complacent with her duties. What if one day she came across a problem that couldn’t be solved with a chant of a charm. What would — what could she do then.
Marinette brushed a hand through her hair, closing her eyes as a cool breeze swept past her, bringing with it, an end to her introspection, at least for now. She tapped clean nails on the railing, bopping her head to the new rhythm, humming under her breath.
She should have seen him coming.
**“Don’t!”
She was pushed, not too harshly, back behind her white balcony rails, landing reflexively on her feet with bent knees. Perplexed, she looked up, astonished to see her new patrol partner, in all his traffic light glory, perched on her balcony, looking concerned. Concerned for her.
It took a moment to register his shout, but when she did, Marinette could only splutter out a breathless denial. “No! Oh geez, I wasn’t gonna jump, I swear!”**
Robin nodded firmly, but didn’t seem to accept the answer, if his analytical gaze was anything to go by. “Do you want to talk?” His voice was still gruff, but it was missing the harsh quality she’d gotten used to. To be honest she wasn’t exactly sure how to react to him when they weren’t fighting and he was acting so obviously kind.
“N-no, it’s fine. You can go back to what you were doing.”
He let himself into her room, took a seat on her chaise, and beckoned her over with a gloved hand. His thick brows were cocked, as if expectant, and she found very little choice but to oblige, so she settled beside him, offering him a cushion with wooden movements. This was far too strange for her liking.
“You looked deep in thought,” he commented lightly. She caught his eyes wandering, examining her room, and found that she didn’t really mind. It was a lot less ‘Adrien,’ than last year, but her crush had pretty much vanished completely as she learned to treasure him as a good friend. Where Adrien’s face used to be was now occupied by pictures of herself, her friends, her favourite looks and old design sketches she’d made and loved.
They looked nice, she thought, against the pink wallpaper. They looked like home.
“Yeah,” she agreed, unsure of what to say. “I guess I was... Thinking.”
She expected a snort from him, a huff maybe, or any assortment of disproving noise. Of course he knew she was thinking, he’d just commented that she was lost in thought! Instead he hummed like he agreed, and placed a hand on her shoulder, removing it a second later in what she assumed was supposed to be a comforting pat.
“My... Colleague, Nightwing suggests exchanging questions might help. If you would like, you may ask me a question and I will do my best to answer truthfully.”
He looked just a little out of his depth, overly tense but clearly eager to do something to help. Marinette found that she liked this side of him, unexpected as it was. “I’d like that,” she replied.
Robin gave the briefest of grins.
“I was wondering... Why did you want to be a hero?”
“I’m a vigilante, I operate outside the law.”
Marinette could have probably helped her responding eye roll, but why bother. “The question’s the same. Why do you help people?”
Robin clicked his tongue, head turning a little to the left, away from her, as he thought. “At first, I believed that Robin was something I had the right to. That the position was important and that I was important because of it... Now... Well now I see that it is both my honour and my duty. Because I know things others do not, and because I can do things that others cannot, it’s the right thing for me to help. In the right way. Batman and Nightwing taught me that.”
Marinette squeezed his shoulder and shot him a small smile. As easy as he was to dislike, there was no denying he had heart. Intention was important to being a hero (which Robin was, despite his claims), and he had good intentions in spades. Truthfully, he was a good hero. Was Ladybug a good hero? Did people think Ladybug was good?
“My turn,” Robin asserted. His face finally turned back to look at her, and in his eyes she saw nothing but blazing honesty. “How are you?”
There were a lot of questions he could’ve asked at that moment. Many more she would have been happy to answer without much thought. But he asked that in particular, and she had a feeling he had been waiting to ask. He’d let her ask first, and her question was hardly easy to answer, but he did it so she could feel comfortable. So he could prove he was good. Did he always work so hard to prove himself?
The least she could do in thanks was to reply honestly. “I’m okay I think. For the most part, anyway. Sometimes... I just get tired.”
“Physical comfort can relieve stress. Would you like a hug?” The ‘Nightwing says’ that prefaced the question was left unsaid, but Marinette heard it loud and clear anyway. Her lips split to a toothy grin, and she couldn’t help but giggle a little at him. He was so stiff, almost robotic sometimes when he spoke, and Marinette thought it was strange he could be so uncomfortable with showing kindness when it was clear that it came so naturally to him.
“I’d really like that, actually.”
This second hug was much more comfortable than the first that surprised her during one of their patrols (technically speaking this was their third hug but there was no way Marinette was counting the disaster of what happened after Robin ditched the meeting), and now that she was prepared for it, Marinette could appreciate it.
The first thing she noticed was that’s the material of his costume felt pretty similar to leather. After that, the warmth of his hold registered, along with the firmness of his grip. His fingers were glued together like he was some sort of mannequin. It was probably a practiced pose, she surmised. It was funny and a little bit saddening that he had to train in something that should be simple and familiar to him. Maybe this hug wasn’t just for her?
He disconnected from her after a count of ten, finally looking satisfied that she was okay. “I’ll be leaving now,” he announced. Quieter, and less confident, he continued. “And... ahem... I care.”
He jumped off her balcony rather dramatically and disappeared into the night. She didn’t bother trying to make out his shape in the shadows, electing instead to shut her door and get some sleep.
Marinette’s head felt heavy as lead when she awoke (earlier than her alarm for once), but her eyes blinked open without too much protest, and her mouth moved to form a smile automatically. The events of last night were still fresh on her mind.
Yesterday she saw a new side of Robin, one she couldn’t have known he was capable of had he not shown her himself. He cared about his job, and he cared about the people. He cared about her.
The weekend was a welcome break from the usual hubbub that was her life, a much-needed peace. Her morning was spent perusing her collection of cloth samples to find the best match for her new summer dress idea. Anything within the cotton family was usually ideal for keeping cool, and Marinette had her eyes set on a square of grey-tinted, light blue chambray. But she hadn’t ever been fond of chambray dresses… Maybe a romper? Decisions, decisions…
She placed the square down with a huff, eyeing it critically beside her newly revised design. The thing about sketching something new was that she’d probably be needing more fabric, and frankly, she really wasn’t up for walking a whole block to get an extra meter. She glanced back at the design and groaned. She could almost feel it stare back, begging to be made. It’d look so much cuter on a person than on the page…
Marinette stomped her feet, just a little irritated with herself, but too overtaken by excitement to feel any sort of real anger. A quick snack, and then she’d go. With luck, she wouldn’t encounter any distractions and she could come back before one o’clock to finish her piece.
Trailing down wooden steps was a challenge with fuzzy socks on, but she didn’t fall once (don’t act too shocked, now), so she was in a relatively good mood as she entered the family bakery. “Hi maman!” Marinate greeted cheerily, giving her mom a swift kiss on the cheek.
“Marinette!” Her mother beamed, “perfect timing! I was just about to call you dear, your new friend is here.”
New friend?
Slowly, she pivoted on her heel. “Ah!” Marinate startled, placing a hand against her chest. She leaned against her mother, heart still pounding from shock.
It was less Damian’s presence that surprised her, and more his watchful eyes glaring straight at hers, unblinking as she saw him for the first time that day.
He was sipping calmly from his cup of tea, sniggering openly into his cup, as his brother (woah Dick Grayson was dreamy when he laughed) turned in his seat her an apologetic smile. “Hey there, Marinette right?”
“Uh… Yeah.”
Dick grinned, leaning on the back of his seat to get a good look at her face. “I was worried when Dami disappeared yesterday, and when I asked him where he went, he gave me a slice of Gâteau Basque, and I knew I had to come try all the other cakes. Your parents are really good bakers, Marinette.”
He had an energy to him that made him feel welcoming, and seeing Damian scowl at the back of Dick’s head struck her as familiar for reasons she wasn’t quite sure about yet. “Thanks! How’d you guys get here without getting caught by Paparazzi? I saw your other brother get hounded by a bunch of cameras like an hour ago on the news.”
Damian smiled, teeth bared like some sort of feral animal. “We used our superior evasive techniques.” Marinette was tempted to take a step back. Damian didn’t seem like the smiling type, and that look only barely passed as a smile.
Dick sighed tiredly, though his eyes, trained on his little brother, were still fond. “He tipped the paps off about Tim and took the long way ‘round them. They were easy to avoid ‘cause they were all swarming Tim…”
Marinette felt her lip twitch upward. It wasn’t that she approved of his actions, or that she wanted to encourage it, in fact she was sure Ladybug should feel upset about it. Marinette was bemused. “Sounds superior alright,” she allowed. She waved them goodbye as she made her way out of the store, stopped only by the sound of her mother clearing her throat.
“Marinette?”
She turned. “Yes?”
“Your shoes.”
Oh. Right, she’d come down to get a snack before leaving. Dick and Damian’s eyes felt like heat lamps against her cheeks, and she did her best to hide behind her hair as she ran back up to her room to slip on her flats.
She sped past the boys, shooting Damian a look when she heard him snicker at her. Her maman was waiting by the door, tin-foil wrapped croque-monsieur extended out to her. Marinate gave her mother a grateful hug, impatient to leave, and even more impatient to get her design started.
‘Lemon Crafts’ always seemed to smell vaguely of lemon zest and fabric softener, the most pleasing combination to Marinette’s nose, and she’d frequent more often than she already did if their yellow lights weren’t so painfully bright. It was lucky for Marinette that she could comb through racks and cloth bins of fabric with her eyes shut; the store was almost a second home to her.
They hardly ever re-arranged their layout, and the speakers were always broken so that a solid thrum of bzz rang through in a delightful tenor that flittered to the back of her mind, and out of her thoughts. Regardless of the time of day, or year, the place managed to look, sound, and feel the same. Marinette felt it was a sort of liminal space, one that was oh so easy to peruse and lose track of reality within.
Today, however, she had her eye on her phone as she sped to aisle three, skipping through a tempting assortment of prints and cloths to find the specific roll of cotton.
There was a tingling that started on the back of her neck that trailed down the base of her spine, which left her feeling antsy and uncomfortable. She heard the familiar click as her purse opened from the inside and kept her back straight and walking pace steady as Tikki stuck her head out.
If her Kwami had suddenly gone alert as well, nothing good could be happening. Or maybe it was something exceptionally good? Probably not, but optimism was always welcome.
“Marinette!” Tikki hissed quietly. Subtle as she could, Marinette looked down at her purse, at Tikki who’s head was hardly peeking out. “The man behind the cashier won’t stop looking at you. I don’t have a good feeling about it.”
Marinette looked at him from the corner of her eyes, hands running over denim blends, pretending to examine them. He looked young, just a little older her, probably in his first year of university. His brown curls were tucked behind him in a low pony, earrings dangling from his elf-like ears. He didn’t look particularly dangerous. “I think it’s fine, Tikki, she whispered.”
Tikki let out a disproving sound, but didn’t say anything else, choosing instead to settle herself back in Marinette’s bag.
The chambray was where it was the last time she’d come and bought it. Ten meters seemed excessive for a romper, but it’d be nice to have a collection with a running theme, and the fabric was just begging to be bought.
But was it worth it? 10 meters really was a lot, and it was expensive too! It was sixty-five euros, and while she had that money, she might have something more worthwhile to buy at a later date.
“Marinette he’s still looking at you!”
Her head raised to meet the cashier’s unfeeling, brown eyes.
She dropped the fabric like it was on fire, and left the store, walking as naturally as she could. Her skin itched, feeling his hard stare on her back, and she wanted nothing more than to sprint out of the store.
Come to think of it, she hadn’t ever remembered seeing him, and she knew almost everyone who worked at ‘Lemon Crafts’ on weekends because she visited so often. She really should have listened to Tikki earlier.
She barely made it out of the door, when her ankle twisted painfully, and she tumbled down to the ground.
Marinette gasped as she fell in what felt like slow motion, bag slipping from her hold as it slid against the pavement and away from her. Her blazer fluttered in beats, arms reaching out to catch her body before her brain could even fully comprehend her descent.
Her bag skidded to a stop, the lucky charm Adrien gifted her dropped to the floor with a click, yet she remained suspended, the tips of her toes the only part of her body still flat on the ground, the rest of herself held up by a grip on the back of her blazer.
“Geeze kid,” a rough voice greeted her, as her faceless saviour entered her line of sight, placing her back down. He was smirking at her, as though entertained by her clumsiness, face framed with wild black hair, marred by a strip of white. “Careful next time, yeah?”
Marinette nodded mutely, accepting her dropped items from the kind stranger. She watched his back as he left, hands in his pockets, strides wide and confident. He turned the corner, fluid as water, and slipped out of sight.
Strangely enough, he reminded her of Robin.
____
Marinette sat rigidly on one of the many beams that supported the Eiffel Tower. Her hands folded on her lap, too frozen with embarrassment to brush away the hair of her pigtails that were whipping her face thanks to the force of the winds.
Robin sat on the other side, far looser, with legs swinging, though his arms were crossed tightly against his chest.
Between them, ice-cream from Andre’s melted, untouched.
“How can I give you my apology ice-cream if you won’t even look at me?” Robin huffed.
She wondered if there was a difference anymore, between her mask and her cheeks, or if she looked like a tomato with legs. She turned her head to the side, unable to make eye contact with him, as she spoke. “I can’t look at you without thinking of that night.”
You were fine yelling at me just yesterday against that grossly garish villain.”
“Believe it or not, an Akuma is a great distraction.”
“I would argue that the Akuma was the goal and that the night is the distraction.”
“You would argue about anything, Robin.”
Marinette knew he was making faces at her behind her back when he didn’t reply instantly. She could probably operate like this for the rest of their time together, staring at rusted metal instead of his face. She already knew he was rolling his eyes, anyway.
Robin let out a familiar ‘Tt,’ and sighed dramatically. The old iron whined as Robin shifted. “If you’re still hung up about the kiss—“
“It wasn’t a kiss!”
“Well. Anyway—“
Marinette turned to face him at last, insistent and overflowing with humiliation. “It wasn’t!”
And it really wasn’t. The night had started out almost fine. Robin was in the middle of a tantrum so there was that, but he was relatively nice, and she was doing a favour for Chat which was always good for supplying warm fuzzies.
~~~yes this is a flashback lmao~~~
Marinette had found him on a tree at Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, one knee bent to his chest, while his other swung loose and free, like it was at present. He hadn’t seemed surprised to see her come, though he was notably disgruntled.
“What do you want?” He had demanded, though less acidic than usual.
Marinette had shrugged and walked closer. “Just seemed like the right thing to do. Can I sit with you?”
“It’s your city.”
She used her yoyo to swing herself up, landing beside him with a thud, rustling leaves, her added weight pushing down on Damian’s branch. “It’s your tree. For now, anyway.”
They sat like that for half an hour, almost, just staring out at the park, and the late-night walkers, with their partners and their dogs. After that, the two of them started calling out dog-breeds they could see, and only when it was around two in the morning did the proper conversation start.
“Mind telling me why you stormed out?”
Robin’s response was bitten out with a certain degree of aggression. “Are you my therapist now?”
Marinette had shook her head, a little disappointed in her partner, but hardly surprised. “No, but you’re my partner now. I guess I’m a little worried.”
“It won’t affect my performance if that’s what you mean.”
Marinette knocked his elbow with her own, frowning. “No, I’m worried about you.”
Robin had turned his head to look at her faster than she’d ever seen him move before. He looked completely distrusting, but his eyes couldn’t lie, and in them she saw hope. “Why would you do that,” he’d sneered, upper lip curling.
“I’m not sure,” she had answered honestly. “Feelings are just like that.”
“If you mean to say that emotions cannot be rationalised, then you’re incorrect… But, thank you, I suppose.”
It was the first genuine thanks he’d ever willingly given her, and she was floored when she heard it. At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it, but now, knowing a little more about his past, and a little more about him (yes, she was still thinking about how sad it was that he didn’t know how to hug properly), her mind lingered on the moment. Why did he look so in disbelief that she would care about him?
“I’m experiencing what many would call jealousy,” he admitted, snapping a twig between his fingers. His eyes were set on the moon, but it was clear that his attention wasn’t. “Your partner— your other partner (The difference between the two was clear now. He was distinguishing between himself and his ‘rival’ and she hadn’t even noticed), seems to get along well with mine.”
Her heart had sunk at his admission, taking it as a jab against herself as a person. “Oh. Sorry, I guess. I’m sure Chat wouldn’t mind a patrol with you—“
“No!” Robin almost bellowed. He had looked completely against the idea. “I’m not jealous of their relationship in that I want it, well.” He let out a frustrated growl. “It’s not that I want us to be like them. Neither of us are irritatingly chatty or bright, we wouldn’t be able to emulate it anyway. No, I’m jealous because your other partner has enamoured mine.”
“I’m sure Nightwing loves you too.”
“I know he does,” Robin whispered back, almost afraid to say the words aloud. “But not at first. And not for a while. I’m sure my personality had a part to play with it, but… Well he liked Chat Noir from the beginning— he wanted Chat Noir from the beginning. Makes me wish I had that luxury.”
He loves you now. I can see in how he looked out you, how he reached out, he loves you now. There were a lot of things Marinette could have said in response, ‘he loves you now, included. Instead, she said nothing, and sat with him in silence, enjoying the browning leaves and almost comfortable seat on their tree-branch.
Her pocket buzzed. Almost embarrassed to have ruined the contemplative mood, she had pulled it out in a rush, shrieking when it slipped from her grip and plummeted down.
She went after it on instinct, momentarily forgetting her peculiar position on a tree, and found the rest of her body following after her phone.
Robin had reacted quickly, diving after her, holding her in a compact hold, his hand on her head to protect her from the fall. He rolled them over so that his back hit the ground first, but the momentum was too much, and they found themselves smashing against one another, lips smacking ungracefully, teeth knocking and foreheads rapping against one another. She rolled off him, hand over her mouth, stunned silent.
Their lips met.
Did that count as a kiss?
Surely not…
No way she could’ve just had her first kiss…
No way!
Robin’s mind hadn’t been as occupied, and he’d simply gotten to his feet, brushing himself off as he spat out a wad of blood. She could spot the gash on his upper gum where her two front teeth had tapped his mouth after their not kiss, and she would have felt a little bad if it weren’t for the fact that “you kissed me!”
Robin looked up at her, uninterested. “It was hardly a kiss, besides, you wounded me.”
“But you kissed me!”
“I didn’t intend to. In fact, I’m pretty sure I saved you, you’re welcome by the way.”
“You kissed me!”
Robin rolled his eyes, checking his utility belt to see if anything had fallen. “Fine, fine, I kissed you.”
It was silly, she knew that then, and she was reminded of how silly she was every time she remembered that night, because her reply would likely make her cringe for the rest of her life. “That was not a kiss!”
Silence fell between them, as Robin raised his brows, a smirk forming it’s way on his face. “Oh? But you said it was a kiss.”
All coherent thought left her mind, and was replaced by loud screaming that was barely louder than the beating of her overactive heart. Blood rushed to her head so fast a headache began to form, and her knees went weak. “It wasn’t!” Even to her ears, the argument was weak.
Robin leered, moving closer. She took a step back for every step he took forward. “But you said it was?”
“I was wrong!” Her back had reached the base of the tree, and Robin was still advancing.
“Unsurprising, but I think this time you might be right.” He leaned in so that he was mere centimeters away from her face, but he didn’t come any closer.
Right as she was about to stutter out another half-baked response, he broke out into snickers that tiptoed the edge of laughter.
She hadn’t ever heard him laugh before. It was husky, more breath than voice, but it was pleasing to the ear. He looked a lot younger when he laughed, a certain lightness took over his whole body, and she remembered he was just a kid, like her. She wished he’d laugh more.
Mortified about what had occurred, she wasn’t exactly happy with the situation, but she couldn’t bring herself to be mad, when he looked like that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You said it was a kiss?”
Marinette, not willing to have a repeat of their past conversation, shoved a spoonful of ice-cream in her mouth.
Robin tutted again, his trademark at this point, but this time the corners of his mouth were turned upward, and she found herself minding it less.
“It wasn’t a kiss,” she said at last. “My first kiss is going to be with someone I like, and it’s going to be a choice. That was an accident, and it doesn’t count.”
“Okay,” Robin agreed.
Marinette smiled.
“Ladybug?”
She looked at him, properly this time, and without any blushing. “Hm?”
“Why are you a hero?”
A little stunned to hear her own question repeated back at her (not that Robin knew she was the one who asked him), it took a moment for her to even comprehend it. Why was she a hero?
Because she was chosen?
No, she had tried to give away that responsibility once before, but she kept the job for a reason.
“Because I was given the opportunity to help,” she said, finally. “One that a lot of people don’t get. I found that even if I thought I didn’t want the responsibility at first, I couldn’t turn the job down. What about you?”
Robin’s nose turned up to the air once again, reminding Marinette of what a brat her partner truly was. “Because lesser people need someone like me.”
Silly bird. If he hadn’t helped her out, back when she was a civilian, she might have taken his response for its face value. But there was no way she could, knowing what she knew. “I bet you secretly have a really nice reason, you just don’t want to tell people.”
“Don’t act imbecilic. Of course I don’t.”
“Uh huh, sure you don’t”
“Eat your ice-cream and shut up.”
Marinette laughed, extending the cup to him. He took a small bite, nose wrinkling. He kept saying he didn’t like sweets and he kept acting like it too, but he could’ve turned her offer down and they both knew it. What a little liar she had as a partner.
It was the same combination as last time, only tonight Andre had decorated it with black sprinkles and a small, white marshmallow on top. Robin let her have it, not a fan of them, but he said nothing about the sprinkles.
It was divine on her tongue, melting almost instantly (though most of it was soup at this point), coating her mouth in a thick swirl of black and red. “What was this an apology for anyway?”
“I may have spoken out of turn when we fought Bud Omen. Nightwing suggested that I bring a token of apology.”
“Are you gonna get me an ice-cream every time you say something rude? Because I’m not sure you could afford that.”
Robin snorted, taking another bite of the ice cream. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
And really, she couldn’t. She thought she knew her partner that she had his whole personality down when they’d first met, and even more so during their first patrol. But Marinette found that the more time passed, the less she felt she knew about him, and the more she wanted to learn.
She didn’t hate her partner, of that she was sure. In fact, she might even be starting to like him.
End Notes: The ‘like’ is platonic, unfortunately, but we’re not they’re yet. We’ll get there eventually though! Their relationship is starting to shift now that they know more about each other ayyy. This chapter was really all about growth on Marinette’s side. Changing feelings about what it means and what it takes to to be a good hero, and changing relationships with her new partner.
Also! First glance of Jason, yeah the white streaked guy was Jason I really wasn’t tryna be subtle about it. What’s up with the weird cashier tho? And yes! Now you know what happened that night. Nothing big or romantic, but Robin confessed he was feeling jealous and lips smashed. I wanted to bring it up now rather than earlier though bc I feel like Marinette can use this as an moment to really consider. This happened in the past, but I wanted it to be seen through current Marinette’s eyes.
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Imagine Being Law Enforcement & Having A Complicated Relation /w Amado
I’ve had this idea for months and I was afraid it’s inappropriate (not just the law enforcement part, but a lot of more, you’re being warned.) Then the other day my friend and I were discussing the moral flexibility of fanfic writing. She convinced me it’s just the words, it won’t hurt or jeopardize anyone or their work irl. So here is another 7K nonsense for the Crow. You can also read it on AO3.
You're an ICE officer stationed at the El Paso Detention Center. It's not a glamorous job but a job is a job. It's not like anyone can work against the system, even when it seems unethical, inhumane.
One Friday you throw a bachelorette party for one of your colleagues across the river. You know a great go-go dance club. The scene is always crazier, with more fun down there. You book the catering and transportation, run a background check on the club owner (of course by unofficial means,) make sure both the best female and male dancers will show up that night cuz you're as dedicated to the task as to your job, down to every detail.
You decide to carry a secret firearm, following your professional instinct. It's CD Juárez after all, a notorious border town with the highest homicide rate in Mexico. Good thing is the American border control never searches for weapons southbound.
You all get changed after work, hop up in the van and the "promiscuous" trip begins.
"What's wrong with being promiscuous?" You half-joke, "I, a certificated chaperone, will make sure each one of you return with no condoms left in your purse. Or I'll confiscate and use them myself." Everyone including the bride-to-be laughs.
The night has been amazing. Everything goes as planned until a group of Mexicans arrive around midnight.
Several tables around the pool are immediately cleared for them. And after a man in black that appears to be the group's leader whistles to the club manager, the music's changed to some cheesy Latin pop. It's hard not to notice him, with his filthy long hair and Sinaloan accent, which you recognize straight away. He seems very comfortable in every sense, a complacent smile on his face annoys you in a way you can't really explain.
He must be somebody.
It's not unusual. Sharing miles of Rio Grande as the border between the two countries, Juárez is like El Paso's evil twin. A city of the outlaws, they are able to smuggle in everything from cocaine to humans, and happily take any deal involving weapons from the US black market to complete the vicious circle of their businesses. And the infamous Juárez cartel has single-handedly changed the game of coke, making Juárez an Amazon distribution center of the bloody business. You've heard from your DEA friends that the Juárez cartel is run by some Sinaloan.
You steal a few glimpses of the guy, thinking about making some phone call to find out his true identity or imagining if anything happens memorizing his face would help catch him later.
Yeah, you're that kind of person that prepares for the worst on a tender night.
Surprisingly, the man approaches you when you go for a refill, "If you're gonna keep staring at my ass, at least you can buy me a drink." The bastard smiles, no, flirts with his dark eyes.
"I don't think it's a good idea unless you want soda as well." You get your refill, leaving him jaw-dropped.
"So you gringa come all the way down south and you're not even enjoying it?"
You don't back down from this, instead you move forward and take a real good look at the man who started this, nose tip almost touching his. He's hot, and very well-built for his age. If he turns around and starts twerking like some male dancers did a while ago, you wouldn't be against the idea of "staring at his ass," even throwing him a few dollars.
You're absolutely enjoying it. But he doesn't need to know.
"I don't need to get drunk to fuck some filthy hot Mexican." You whisper.
"I'm Amado, in case you want to brag about the filthy hot Mexican you fuck tonight with the ladies."
The back alley is so dark you almost forgot it. And Amado being a good kisser is not helping either. The fact that there's a gun taped to your thigh is the last thing that keeps you from losing control.
"Tell me you're not a cop." He's leaving bite marks on your neck, big hands cupping your ass cheeks. You can totally feel each other through the clothes. It's just a matter of time before he finds your gun.
"What gives me away?" You ask, searching for more skin to skin touch. And it turns out Amado has a gun too, just behind his back.
"All the gringas are drinking and dancing, you just drink soda and... check me out."
You did check him out, for security purposes though, "Don't worry. I'm not that kind of cop." You put a little bit more pressure on his back, letting him know you've got it.
Amado pauses, eyes locked on you as his hands finally reach your gun, also the sensitive part between your legs.
"What are we gonna do?" He's sucking your lower lip, making things more difficult.
It's easier when you decide to let this one slip. You don't need to figure out who he really is, and it's unnecessary to keep your guard at all times. What you need right now is a good, hard fuck. So you take his gun then ask him to proceed with yours.
Letting Amado release the gun from your thigh is wrong. The bastard makes it painfully slow, licking, teasing and pleasing you like he's on a mission.
You can't help but open your legs to let him know how much you want his touch.
"Hope there's light here so I can see how wet you already are for me. Tell me what you want."
You can't believe Amado goes down on you again after you moan you want his filthy mouth.
Those fucking hands grab your thighs tight as he buries himself between your legs, pushing you to the edge.
It's soooooo good you think it's worth it even if later he murders you and dumps your body in the dark valley.
Amado keeps doing the thing as you come, sending you indescribable waves of pleasure.
"I feel like I just cheated." You're still panting.
"You've got a John up north? Don't worry, I won't call."
"No. I mean, I'm the organizer of the bachelorette party and I'm having the best orgasm behind their back." You chuckle.
It isn't until later Amado pushes you up, fuck you against the wall that you realize what he means by changing your mind, "That was the second best."
You're fully dressed, panties half-way down your knee, when Amado's rocking into you with long, rough thrust.
He fucking pauses, letting you feel so full. You almost beg him not to stop, you want it so much. So you grab his long hair, kissing him ferociously.
"Tell me your name." Amado sounds so genuine. You're absolutely not telling some one night stand your real name but fuck it, you give it away.
And he's right. What happened earlier was only the second best orgasm of your life.
Afterward Amado gets his gun back, but you're not getting yours.
"I'm not playing dirty, baby. You need to ditch the gun before you hit the road up north anyway." He's not wrong. You don't want any trouble with the customs.
"You're not selling it on the street." You're more concerned about Mexico's street violence fueled by illicit weapons from the States.
Amado shakes his head with a sneer, "I'll keep it," Why? "Next time I fuck some whore, I will think about you fuck yourself with the gun as hard as I fuck you tonight."
You lose count of how many fucks he says before your last kiss. You tell yourself too bad there won't be next time.
You never knew one day your paths would cross again and you were the one who begs.
A few weeks later you see the filthy hot Mexican on local TV news. Turns out you fucked the leader of the Juárez cartel (and returned in one piece.) And the picture of him on DEA's most wanted list doesn't look bad at all. Good for Amado, you shrug.
It'd be a once-a-lifetime joke or pickup line, but you never tell anyone about the encounter.
On the other hand, things at work are getting weirder, to a point you question the legitimacy of your own job. By summer, hundreds of detainees, mainly from Mexico, Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala and other Central America countries, are separated from their minor children. You're not a field officer so you don't have to face the heartbreaking scene. But you know for a fact children are sent off against their families' will every day.
And none of you, not even your boss, has a clear idea where all of the children are taken. You just received an order to facilitate the transaction with some guys from the Office of Refugees Resettlement, which you never heard of. "Oh, we're within the Department of Health and Human Services." They what? This is fucking insane. Then it's out of your hands. If the parents and the children enter two completely different systems, it's gonna be a nightmare to reconnect them whenever their cases are decided. "Tracking record? Maybe you should ask Homeland Security." As if Homeland Security gives a flying fuck about the familia of the "criminals" they're prosecuting.
This is wrong on so many levels. There's no official statement of the new regulation, it's not on the news. You make private calls to people you know within the ICE system, the best answer you've got is this is a pilot program first implemented in El Paso to curb the illegal immigration and deter the asylum seekers.
Parents in the detention centers wait for months in devastation without knowing where exactly their kids are taken. Some are told their children are sent to shelter homes in fucking Chicago, some rejoin with their relatives who have already obtained legal US citizenship in other states, still facing deportation in the future. And if the parents get deported first, it could take years for them to reconnect with or even find their children left behind in the limbo of bureaucracy. They're hopeless. All you can do is keep an off-the-record track of every child you heard or your colleagues talked about, anything from their names, birth dates, medical conditions to last confirmed locations.
As the number of children taken away grows, it catches the attention of some immigration lawyers and children's rights advocates in Texas. You can't really talk to them or go to their rallies because you're part of the system. You're afraid they're not gonna trust you. And to be honest, you have no fucking clue what difference you can make. Call your congressman and congresswoman? Like those families have time for them to pass a new law.
You're frustrated and have to take some time off during summer. Drinking through the hell with cheap tequila down south seems like a remedy. Next thing you know, you wake up with a bad hangover and an empty wallet at some motel in Juárez. You barely remember the guy you brought back last night, let alone figuring out how to get your credit card back.
Except this time, your credit card finds you.
"It got your name on it." The door slides open, a man in black sitting on the back of the van. The smile looks too familiar, irritating but handsome.
"We didn't fuck last night, did we?" You're not sure if it's a bad thing at this point.
Amado looks slightly disappointed, "Unfortunately not. But everything in Juárez runs through me." Right, he is the fucking El Señor de los Cielos.
You ask for your credit card back cuz you're starving to death. Amado insists on buying your lunch.
"Look, you've probably run my name through your network, I understand, I'd have done the same. I'm just some low rank dumbass, no badge, no DEA or federal connection or whatsoever. I don't think you and I have any business to tend to."
Damn, the food is too good to pass.
"I'll be at the club at 10. Come if you don't want to end up penniless again."
Is that a threat? The headache is messing up your mind. Instead of shutting up and retreating quietly from the most dangerous narco in town, you retort, "What? You're a pimp now?"
You put on makeup and a tight emerald green dress. It's not like you have anything better to indulge yourself in. Whatever the drug lord has for you, you're gonna enjoy it as long as you're breathing.
It's weekday, the club is less packed and much quieter.
You two just talk, like two old friends. You can't find another perfect stranger like Amado, when you can't complain to... basically anyone north of the border. You rant about how fucked-up the whole situation is and how traumatized those detainees and their children must become.
"You've got kids?" He asks.
"No. I hate kids, to be honest." You blurt out, "What? Women are supposed to like kids? Never mind. This is WRONG."
You have more drinks as well as further inappropriate discussion between law enforcement and a drug cartel leader. It's an escape, even for a very short period of time.
"You wanna dance?" Amado makes the invitation like a gentleman. Hilarious, and fucking turns you on at the same time.
"I can never move my ass like that, you see?" You point at a female performer as he leads you to the pool.
"Then why are you here?"
"I don't know. Have midlife crisis conversation with the hottest drug trafficker and pray he would take me home and fuck my brain out tonight."
"Shall we skip the dance then?" Amado's offer sounds appealing.
"No. I want to brag about it to my grandkids." You like it when he laughs at your horrible joke.
"You need to make kids first."
The dance is nice but the sex... the sex with Amado is on another level. You let him do things you were never into, like fucking you with a gun he keeps at the nightstand. "Is it my gun?" He nods. "Tell me how many times you dream of doing it." Amado doesn't answer, but he makes you come hard on it.
You don't need to feel safe or protected. You wanna disappear, and Amado makes it happen by fucking you all night long.
No, that's exaggerating. But you find out both of you are light sleepers. He says sorry, you say "Since none of us can kill each other in our sleep, can we get some snacks?"
The drug lord heats up tortillas himself for you, and brags about he has the greatest salsa recipe in town.
You talk about everything standing by the oven, like two adults you are. It's odd you even have a debate on the pending legalization of recreational marijuana in Mexico at 4 a.m. with once the biggest weed trafficker of the country. You think it's about damn time, no anti-drug policy is ever gonna stop people from smoking the shit. Yet Amado is more worried about whether the policy would favor existing players and big pharmas from the States.
"Fuck, you sound like a senator from the opposing party." God, that's awful.
It seems Amado doesn't take it as an insult, "When you play this game long enough, everyone starts to sound like politicians."
It reminds you of all the crazy stories you heard about the Mexican drug war. The man sharing guacamole and chips with you is not just a random fuck buddy. What he's capable of is beyond your wildest guess. You bet.
"I did donate to the opposing party last decade, you know, to diversify my political patronage. The state governor has always been a call away. I've also built roads, churches, parks and schools. You don't believe it?"
You do. But it doesn't matter. The world isn't becoming a better place because you fuck a good guy.
"Come to bed." You could use some cuddles after a long day. You snuggle up to him, Amado is warm and his long hair smells nice.
"You like it?" You just nod, burying your face in it, "We should fuck again in the morning so you'll smell like that, too."
You giggle, this guy is crazy and you love crazy.
After that, Amado doesn't ask you to stay and you don't want to either. No one is always around, both of you know it. You go to Chihuahua for a few days. A hiking trip to Mexico's tallest waterfall and deepest canyon is a good change of scenery.
The outlaw calls at the weekend, when your vacation is almost over, "You want to see some action near the border?" Fuck yeah, you're bored to death. You tell him you will call back once figuring out the flight schedule.
"Just go to the airport. I'm picking you up in an hour."
You're over this flexing thing long ago but man, piloto Amado looks extra hot with that bomber jacket. And you don't mind flying a private jet.
Amado sees you lean towards the window. Without being asked, he shifts the plane to your side so you can get a better view of the Copper Canyon. How he manages to wink at you with shades on remains a mystery.
It's a short flight to Altar, a small town in Sonora. You know the place too well because it's an unofficial hub for border crossers if they choose Phoenix as their destination. You've heard so many tragedies around the desert town, people losing their lives or loved ones on the route to America. Their family can't even bring them home for a peaceful funeral since in most cases the bodies decompose quickly in the desert and vultures prey on them. You never went there before, never met a person before he or she set foot on the deadly route to become an immigrant, despite you're probably dealing with detainees from the very place on a daily basis.
Amado brings you to a dark flat, two rooms full of people who have already paid for the trip, waiting for smugglers' order for their next move.
When Amado talks to one of the smugglers, you just realize it is the Sinaloa cartel that's been running this business in Sonora.
"Tell them what happened in El Paso with all the kids, which like you said might happen in other border cities soon. See if you can change their minds. I personally guarantee them full refund if you can manage that."
You don't know what exactly Amado wants to achieve by pulling this stunt.
"Go on, go save the children and their families." Is the narco mastermind challenging you?
There aren't many border crossers with small children in the rooms. Mainly because the desert route from Sonora to Arizona is the most dangerous one among other approaches. You do see a few teenagers among them.
You try to explain the new risk to those families with your limited Spanish vocabulary. They are confused, but you can't tell them you're with ICE which would bring unnecessary panic to the room. In the end, no family with children under the age of 18 buy your shit, no one is pulling back.
"You see, it costs tens of thousands of dollars for each family here to cross the border. They've probably been saving for a long time to get that amount of money. And the risk being caught or separated from their kids is nothing compared to the harsh reality in their home countries. You worry too much. There's nothing you..." You don't need a lecture from Amado.
You know what he's saying. You can't change nothing about a human trafficking ring that exploits the poorest and a fucked-up system that separates parents and their children. You gonna blame Trump? The notorious Sinaloans? You're helpless.
You can tell from the look in his eyes, Amado means no offense. But it hurts.
You insist on returning on your own. No more private jet on demand, no more flirting with the hot pilot, no more drunk one night stands with the perfect stranger.
You're done. No more adventures down south.
Months pass by, nothing changes except the tracking list you keep in secret gets much longer. They are more than just a few Sofías, Marías, Juans and Felipes. There must be a big family behind every name on that list, mom, dad, grandparents, aunties and uncles, cousins and second cousins.
More sad stories from the lawyers and detainees circle around. One detainee's request to reunite with her two children was denied because some official from HHS said removing children from foster homes and rejoining their parents would pose welfare concerns for the children.
What the actual FUCK? Everyone's devastated.
The tipping point comes one day when a newly arrived detainee committed suicide in a padded cell after forcibly separated from his wife and kids. Everyone's told to keep their mouths shut, even the sheriffs who are brought in to make a record and process the body receive gag orders from above.
You're so sick of everything that happens in the living hell you work for. You need to do something, anything.
You go south, again.
You don't call Amado or send messages because he might be tapped. You go straight to his place unannounced. This time, you're held at gunpoint, waiting for his return.
"This is the better solution you come up with to save the innocent people, dear?" Amado unties you, his hands are still warm but his voice is ice cold, "To hijack a foster home because it's less guarded than prisons like the one you work at, then bring those kids back to Mexico, really?"
You try to explain your plan, which is beyond any rationale. You know you're out of your mind the moment you go to narcos for a vigilante move.
"You know what you sound like? A hypocrite. Do you know where exactly their parents are right now? What's their status? In Homeland Security custody? Waiting for results from the immigration court? What family are left in their home countries? Are they able to take care of the kids? If not, who's gonna take them from here? Do you know what happens to orphans in Juárez? Wanna take a guess at the average age of street kids joining a cartel?" Amado keeps asking, and you don't have any answer.
"HHS may have a point. Think about the education and healthcare those kids get from the resettlement, foster family, sponsors, or whatever it's called. Maybe they want to stay in the States, hell, that's why their parents brought them in in the first place. They can find jobs in construction when they grow up, getting minimum wage, which is much safer and better paid there compared to in their home countries. They don't need rescue, have you ever thought about that?"
You're deranged, defeated, and desperate.
Amado sends his sicarios away. It's just the two of you.
"It's pretty late, you want to spend the night?" He makes it sound like the other day, simpler times.
Before you beg him... To reconsider your stupid proposal? To stay? You don't feel comfortable saying please. That would be humiliating.
"I'll be in another room." He just left.
You show yourself out that night. Drive home, get drunk, as if the alcohol would make you forget everything, including an inside tip that seven children of immigrants from El Paso will be sent to that specific foster home by Friday.
You may or may not drunk dial Amado in the middle of the night. But you definitely don't say please, as far as you can remember.
You're back to work with a severe hangover. Yet you keep digging, trying to find out whether all parents of the seven children are criminally charged, who are the lawyers assigned to them, if any of them has siblings or other relatives, legal citizens or not, that currently live in the States, how to contact them. Any information that might help.
You can't give up. Not because you have a real kind heart, you do it so you can sleep at night.
That's when you receive an unexpected Doordash order of burritos at home. On the back of the receipt it reads "Give me something more concrete so I can work on it."
It's gotta be him. Your heart is beating so fast. Can't believe the plan is still happening.
You respect Amado's discretion on this. No phone calls or emails, you even try to create an encrypted message to sext him. Then he sends one of his associates to personally collect what you have for them. The guy says the less you know about the actual plan, the better for everyone that is involved.
Amado cares. Maybe not about you. You know he's risking so much more on this than you are.
You have no idea what exactly the cartel is planning or when they are gonna strike. After passing over all the information, all you can do is wait.
The kids are gone on Friday as planned, everything is normal. And you hear nothing during the weekend, no report from the sheriff's office, not even a rumor from other law enforcement inner circles.
By Monday, your boss makes a big announcement that since starting the pilot program, ICE's apprehension rate in El Paso municipal district drops more than sixty percent in the last twelve months so they're gonna officially roll out the policy nationwide starting next week. He even says you all should celebrate the achievement.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You have to get Amado, right fucking now.
"Don't hang up. Please! You need to listen to me. You haven't done it, have you? Abort it. Whatever you have planned. Abort it, NOW." You don't have time to explain everything on the phone.
Amado doesn't ask why, instead he says "You don't get to tell me the dos and don'ts, love."
"I'm not kidding, I swear. Please, please, Amado. I know I'm a mess and you shouldn't listen to me. But..." The line disconnects.
You tell your superior you're not feeling well then hit the road down south right away.
You call Amado again with a burner once you cross the border. He finally agrees to meet.
The remote location serves as a perfect site if the cartel needs to dump your body.
Amado and his badass shades, a view you usually appreciate, now make you question all the moral decisions you made since you first met.
"Please call it off. I can explain." You don't mind getting down on your knees if it's not too late.
"Explain why you get cold feet at the last minute? To save your own ass?"
"This is different. They're gonna make the policy public next week. They call it zero tolerance. The media, border control in other cities, everyone will know it. There would be nationwide uproar regarding the issue, they will find out any incident connected to it, especially if it happens on American soil. It'd be all over TV, social media, a complete chaos. This is DHS's doing, you don't understand, they are not like the feds, or the DEA, worse. I can't... I can't let you..."
You can't let Amado leave a loose end on the north side of the border and become a potential target of Homeland Security. You can't take that risk. Moral or not, if anything happens to him because of this, you know you'd regret for the rest of your life.
"What about the children? You're gonna leave them rot in foster care?"
You don't have an answer for that. Any explanation will make you sound more like a hypocrite.
"Please, I'll do anything. Just abort it." You're literally begging.
You close your eyes, expecting some cartel style punishment. Then all you hear is a phone call to end the mission. Thank goodness no action is carried out. No one would ever find out the infamous Juárez cartel was once interfering with America's immigration issue.
You don't go back north after that. You call in sick, then stop at the first bar you find open. You fuck up everything, your job, your good intensions, and the non-existing relation with a drug lord. So you drink, like the world is ending tomorrow and Juárez is the entrance to hell, where you belong.
You don't remember much later in the day. It's kind of blurry. You're too wasted to walk, let alone drive. But you are taken care of. There's a familiar scent, like shampoo or something damp, in a bathtub.
You have a dream, Amado pins down you, he really takes it out on you. And you fight back, fueled by anger and self-hatred. You hurt each other.
It's probably the best sex you've ever had.
Two months later, a breaking story about the secret pilot program in El Paso emerges on major news outlets, quoting an anonymous insider with unprecedented facts. All the misconduct that brought unimaginable pain and devastation to thousands of immigrant families is exposed. People are furious, more and more get out and protest against the brutal policy. The government has to pull the plug on the zero tolerance policy.
All your friends and family are talking about the situation. They are optimistic since the policy has already been abandoned, there won't be any more tragedy.
You can't share the same sentiment. You know for a fact it'd be a long fight against the bureaucracy to reunite those broken families, some may forever lose their loved ones.
Nothing really changes at work. The El Paso Detention Center is still running at full capacity 24x7, all year round. Immigrants get moved from one facility to another, no one knows when, where, how it's gonna end.
A scandal starts to spread among female colleagues of yours. You can't believe it until a female detainee is carried out by paramedics to a medical facility one day. No suspect, witness, no surveillance camera footage, but rumor says she's sexually assaulted by guards.
Sheriffs have come but high up DHS officials say it's gonna be an internal investigation. No one is allowed to say a word including local law enforcement.
The woman is no longer in critical condition the next day. She's able to identify four guards, who later deny her accusation and claim their DNAs found and tested in her nails are due to a friction when bringing her under control.
Several females detainees lament other minor sexual misconduct is rampant inside the facility but no one's willing to name names. All victims are afraid to speak up.
You pull some strings and manage to visit the victim after work. You want to speak to her alone off the record.
You learn this is not the first time it happened to her, and clearly she's not the only victim. At least there are two other women she's known.
There must be more, considering detainees are moved around all the time. Most of them won't stay at the same facility longer than six months. And the lawyers assigned to them are usually doing pro bono, the time and resources spent on them are very limited. All makes the suspects easily get off the hook.
You leave the hospital with a rage for justice. But before opening another bottle, you ask yourself whether you can make it right this time.
You screwed up hard last time, you can't repeat the same mistake. And the most important thing you learn from last time is you can't sit behind your desk and wait for some savior to come. You can't just do your part, and expect everything is gonna work out and so does your job and your life. You're either all-in or not, you have to get your hands dirty.
You go straight to the official in charge of the investigation, suggesting a criminal lawyer should be assigned to the victim. Of course this isn't gonna work. In order to shut you up, the official agrees the other two women will get a medical examination for STD, scheduled next week. Also allows you to talk to each of them in private.
This buys you a few days.
You can't even tell your best friend about what you're working on. Speaking to the official already gets you exposed, you aren't dragging anyone else into this. Too many risks.
There's one thing you need and only one person you know can make it happen.
You don't realize you're holding your breath before sending the message. It's quite simple, you need a favor, and in return you're willing to do whatever it takes.
The answer comes with several gift bags, and a driver waiting outside, warning you a private jet is leaving in half an hour. That's how your name ends up on the guest list of Chihuahua governor's party with delegates from the US Department of Commerce. You're Amado Carrillo Fuentes' plus one.
"I'm glad you came." Amado seems not mad at you. The drug lord looks extremely handsome in a black tuxedo, long hair slicked back.
"When someone sends a jet and this..." You adjust the exquisite sleeveless dress a little, a matching handbag in hands.
"You look beautiful." His voice becomes husky. You miss it. If you're being totally honest, many times through the past few months you fall asleep imagining this voice talking dirty to you.
"Thank you. I'm grateful you honor our deal. But I don't see why I'm here, having champagne with politicians, delegates and businessmen."
"You know they are negotiating a new trade deal to replace NAFTA, right? Having a gringa on this side kind of sends a message."
No sense. "So you're using me as a prop?"
"Likewise. And the best part is you look too old for a hooker. They probably think I have some real connection in the States." The bastard gives you a little nudge. Gosh, you want to smash that smug smile out of his face.
"Don't give me that sullen face. Smile. Enedina should be here any minute. You happy?"
That's right. The deal with Amado is about him introducing you to Enedina Arellano Félix, a.k.a. the only lady boss in the world of narcos.
"You know my roots with the Sinaloa cartel, this puts me in a very awkward position, asking the head of the Tijuana cartel for something personal." Amado pretending to be annoyed is so cute.
"Fuck off. You're The Lord of the Skies, and you run business by forging alliances instead of making enemies. If anyone can sit down with both Tijuana and Sinaloa, it's gotta be you."
It looks like Amado's in a really good mood, which is not what you expected.
You don't get the chance to ask why though, the Queen of Tijuana is here.
The meeting with the matriarch goes surprisingly well. Amado must joke it's just girl's night, but Enedina is indeed the partner in crime you look for. She's smart, fast, and asks tough questions as you explain the great escape plan to her. She's skeptical yet resourceful, and more importantly, she's a decision maker.
"So you really think it's better those poor Latinas come to work for a drug cartel than chasing "American dream" in your country? How refreshing!" She jokes.
"No, they won't be working for any drug cartel. They're gonna work for you, the Queen of Tijuana. You hired chicks back in the 90s, when no women were allowed in this game. Please, don't let them get stuck in prison or pushed to the street. You surely know the femicide particularly in Juárez better than I do. They are hard workers, I guarantee you, they will be forever grateful and loyal to you." You're willing to kiss more asses if it helps.
Lastly Enedina asks, "Why are you doing this? Risking your job, even your life? You probably will face charges helping them get out. Just to feel better about yourself?"
You shrug, "If a woman is raped in front you, I don't think you'd be a bystander. As for me, they'd hold me as a suspect but there won't be any substantial evidence if everything works out." That's the best case scenario.
"I assume Amado already knows." She leaves after giving you a knowing smile.
Speaking of the crow, Amado's standing near the window, talking to a group of Americans. What a scene.
"Excuse us, gentlemen. I'd love to have a dance with my date." You take Amado's hand, leaving everyone else in awe.
"You're so damn hot, sweetheart." Amado whispers as he pulls you closer.
It's slower and much relaxed than your last dance. It's so nice to have Amado in your arms and not worry about anything for just five minutes. Although you're surrounded by politicians and lobbyists, you want this to last a bit longer.
"Why aren't you mad at me?" You can't help but ask. Your body becomes rigid while waiting for his response.
"Well, I was. But since you come up with this crazier idea as an excuse to see me, I'm not that kind of person who holds grudges."
Both of you laugh, "That's not an excuse!"
He ignores your protest, forehead touching yours, like the first time you met.
After the party, Amado invites you to the cabin of his private jet.
"You're not flying tonight?"
"No. I've much more important business to tend to." The fucker just winks.
Yeah, like tearing up the dress he just bought you and asking you to join the mile high club. No need to sneak in the tiny bathroom, you blow him on the soft carpet with plenty of legroom. Then ride him on the broad executive chair. You fuck yourself on Amado's fat cock so hard like there's no tomorrow.
"You're sure you don't need backup? I have guys in El Paso..." He asks when pouring you a whiskey afterwards.
"You're sure you want to talk about that when you have me naked?" You take the drink and continue, "No, Amado. I can't let them trace anything that happens on American soil back to you."
"Why?"
You think he knows the answer, "Don't worry. I get it covered."
You persuade a female guard who's assigned to escort the two detainees to the hospital specifically because she's also Latina, speaks perfect Spanish. She understands the risks both of you are taking and still willing to help.
The day finally comes. She knocks out another guard during the examination, while you bring in janitorial uniforms and wigs, helping the three victims get changed.
Amado does provide something after all. A stolen vehicle he promises without any trace and a route across the border. Technically the secret tunnel under Rio Grande is long abandoned. It's not the 90s, no smuggler nowadays would get muddy for a few kilos.
When all of you eventually see the light at the end of the tunnel, Enedina's people are already waiting. You can't promise the three of them a brighter future in Mexico (if there's any,) but this is the best way out everyone agrees upon. After a few quick hugs, they're gone.
Later on, when threatened with criminal charges, you reveal part of the evidence you've held in secret to the investigation official, "One of the guards turned his body cam on during the assault, later he made a copy before deleting the footage, or he thought he deleted it. For what purpose? Sorry, sir. You can interrogate the pervert yourself. Here is a clip of it, I've had the rest and more stuff saved in the cloud." You warn if ICE doesn't want a huge scandal amid national disapproval after the zero tolerance policy backfired, he should bury the entire investigation and let the female guard and you walk. "And I'm sure you can come up with good reasons to remove the four guards. A little house cleaning wouldn't hurt, right?"
"I can't believe you still haven't quit that questionable job." Amado complains when you finally make time for him after everything against you is cleared.
"That's not fair. I didn't ask you to quit the questionable job you have." You always enjoy the banter with him.
"What? You mean being the hottest drug trafficker? Where are you going? That's what you said before. You can't take it back."
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as quick as love alarm was progressing compared to other dramas i’ve seen (usually wait ten eps for the first kiss and that’s it) it still seemed,, idk important for the story? n e way.
meteor garden is insanely messy like in the final episode daoming si just mentions everything dong shancai did that makes her so amazing and i honestly forgot they even did some of their things 😳 at one point they went to london and filmed in china town and i was just like ‘oh. i know that place’ and didn’t clock after that 😭
I GOT PEN ON THE BACK OF IT IM SO MAD AT MYSELF ✋✋✋✋✋ but come find me anyway lmao i got a changbin & minho film strip 🤪 can’t have anything nice around here and i learned my lesson the hard way.
i went through a phase when whenever i watched english tv i was like ‘why does this make sense without subs..’ and would be like squinting at the screen until it occurred to me that it was in english.
oh bruh i remember making a bank account the second summer bc my employer was like why tf do you not have a bank account ,, yeesh people had been paying by card for meals and stuff and not cash like the year before. so i made one and then she paid me in cash bc people started paying w cash 😐😑😐😑 i waitress so even though i get anxious about other things, i’m comfortable about waitressing so i am super nice to everyone. i am the designated person who orders for everyone (as long as you point at what you want in case i can’t remember everything i will say it). i know how important it is to be articulated to your server bc if they f up you get mad and they get mad bc ur mad and the chef gets mad bc the server f-ed up and the chef has to cook again and it’s a never ending circle of wishing you’d just gone somewhere else and i hate that. i also get mad at my fam when we go out bc the last time we went out (literally like two years ago now bc covid) there was a guy serving at this place we’re fairly frequent at and i was like maybe he’s training don’t be so mad at him for forgetting things just gently remind him! don’t cuss him out behind his back! there’s so much pressure about not pissing off your colleagues bc there’s a groove they’ve got and you’re just there not wanting to ruin it whilst also meeting customers needs!!
ive been waiting to pass my drivers test for over a year now bc covid has pushed it back and back and back again 😐 i finally get my next test date and i have to ask a different instructor for their car bc my instructor is on annual leave when my test is scheduled. i’m holding it together so i can ask an instructor, buy a car and yeet. the bus is okay but i need my own space sometimes.
i am good w my money im the jungkook of the working class. if there are pots and pans on the go i will take them. free food? count me in. i do have that broke b*tch mindset. although i don’t buy $300 white tshirts i will spend $200 on a day out 😃 and sis,, buy whichever one you like bc of the concept!! it’s always fun seeing the posters (personally i don’t put them up bc how am i gonna have sir johnny suh STARING at me while i get changed,, no THANK YOU) i’ll cry if i ever pull a yuta card bc he looks ✨spicy✨ in all of them.
i think i get what you’re saying about gg’s! boy groups have a wider range. eg, haechan hits those high notes and jeno/mark rap/sing quite low but girl groups can’t. unfortunately i feel like they rely on visuals heavier bc they don’t have the same range bg’s do. itzy are good!! i personally haven’t listen to a lot/watched a lot of their mv’s. i’m more into red velvet for their mv’s. im terrible at watching content so i am slowly working through bts’ content, monsta x’s content and ocassionally nct’s content. im gonna work on mamamoo next 🤞fake fans unite 😔✊✨
it’s so easy to feel invisible here. don’t worry. i’m here to brighten your day! much like a sunflower ~ 🌻
I cant really speak about the importance of the kiss in love alarm since i didnt watch more than the first ep, but i will trust you if you really say so ?? 😳 I WANNA WATCH METEOR GARDEN JUST FOR THE DRAMA DHSNSK
dude dont fucking test me i WILL find your address and i WILL visit you in your sleep and steal all your kpop stuff. MINHO FILM STRIP ??????? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
i still watch english things w eng subtitles sometimes bc my first language isn't english so just in case i dont hear something i can always read it you know djsksk
this is my first job so i didnt have to have bank account before but now that i have it i feel very adult😩✋i am so old. i dont like it.
oh no i hate people that arent polite to waitresses like they are just doing their job and its so hard and stressful and i dont want to make their life harder so im just really anxious abt everything in my life ever.
i'm rooting for you on your driving test !! lets hope you make it after such a long time <3
JUNGKOOK OF THE WORKING CLASS NO- thats actually me. also free samples. give me all of them. also i think its completely justified to spend so much on a night out since its for the memories !! #yolo am i right
I AM SO TEMPTED TO ORDER THE ALBUM NOW 😭💔😭 i actually have my posters on my closet and i change inside the actual closet at all times bc me and my brother share a room, so no one's looking at me thankfully haha. well, i do have bts pics on the warderobe next to my bed as well so they watch me sleep every night but we dont talk about that. YUTA CARD i would cry. he for sure does look spicy half the time of his life.
i dont know that many rv songs (the audacity, i know) but seulgi... ah. i watched the sm new years concert and when she appeared i couldnt keep my eyes off her. i should really listen to more of their songs so if u have any recs i am all ears
thank you for brightening up my day sunflower ily mwah😔❤
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Venom To The Rescue || Venom x Reader + Avengers
Summary: Venom has saved the world even if he didn't give a shit about it.
Warnings: none
Words: 2486
Requests: @ihavealwayslovedcass
Authors: Cass & Rouge
A/N: One bite per day keeps Thanos away :D ~Cass
Eddie had enough of sitting in the office as much as you so he decided it was time for a camping. Both of you took a few days off, packed all stuff that were needed and headed to the camping spot.
It was a nice summer night. Eddie was sitting in front of the fire, frying some marshmallows on his stick. "You will love it, V. They are just as good as chocolate. Sweetheart! You are done in this tent? We... I mean.. I miss you here," Eddie said looking over his shoulder.
"Minute! I just need a minute! I can't find my hairbrush! Did you pack it as I asked?!," you screamed out of tent.
Venom formed himself from Eddie's back and laid his chin on man's shoulder sniffing viciously. "It doesn't smell nice. You burnt them, Ed. If you think we're gonna eat some burnt marshmallows, you're fucking mistaken, we tell ya."
Eddie rolled his eyes. "You said the same thing five minutes ago, Y/N, your hairbrush should be in my backpack!" Then he looked annoyed at Venom and shook his head. Eddie took a new stick and impaled two marshmallows on it, he put it in Venom's mouth. "Here, make your own, Master Chef."
Venom formed a hand and shifted it more into campfire, without complaining this time.
"I've found it!" After a moment you joined them sitting onto Eddie's lap. "Oh, V! You do it by yourself!"
Venom narrowed his eyes. "He made us do this."
"Well, he had no other choice. He didn't like mine so he has to do it by himself," Eddie giggled and looked at you. "Come here sweetheart, I want to cuddle with you."
As soon as you joined Eddie, he wrapped one arm around you and pulled you closer. "I love this camping already, even Venom won't destroy my mood. Just me and you," Eddie purred and nuzzled to your hair. "Hey, how about a walk?"
You brushed his cheeks and cupped his face to place a passionate kiss to his lips. But when you two were kissing, something slick and cold sneaked between your faces. It was no one else but Venom. "And we. We all are Venom!," he stated proudly and gave a lick to you and to Eddie.
Eddie blinked, growling annoyed. He already started to mentally count to ten to calm down.Eddie let out a deep sigh. "Y/N? So what with our walk, shall we?," he asked getting up and offering you his hand.
You grabbed his palm smiling. "Sure. We can get a round."
Venom growled quietly and hid himself.
"I swear, if you will be calm for this walk I will buy you a box o chocolate bars," Eddied said mentally to Venom and quickly pulled you with him.
The night was warm and calm, you two walked slowly. "This place is nice, right?," Eddie smiled at you.
Your arm was wrapped around his waist. "Yes. I like it. It's nice here, away from the civilization. It's nice to be here, to clear mind, breathe with fresh, clean air," you whispered.
Eddie nodded. "No work, no problems, just me, you... and Venom,” he laughed softly and pulled you closer to himself. "I needed something like this."
You two walked for a few more minutes simply enjoying your time together. Talking and joking was enough until you pulled Eddie's attention away from the chat.
"Hmmm? Did you hear that?," you asked carefully stopping within a step. "I bet I heard something. In the brushes. Nearby."
Venom formed himself once again and his eyes narrowed. "There, footprints," he pointed his formed hand in east direction. "Check it, Ed... Maybe it's something to eat..."
Eddie let out a loud sigh and stroked his hair, looking at Venom, then at you. "I don't know, these can be footsteps of some tourists. I mean, this place is popular." Eddie though few minutes."What do you think, Y/N?"
"I think... We should go back to tent... I don't like it," you said squeezing Eddie's hand.
But Venom had opposite idea. He covered Eddie's body and smirked viciously at you. "C'mon, pussy. We're gonna check it. We smell a meal. And we're hungry, fucking hungry." After these words Venom grabbed your hand and pulled you right behind him, straight into the bushes.
Eddie used his whole will straight to fight Venom back this time. He hated when this was happening, Venom was always taking over his body without even little warning.
When Venom let go of Eddie's body, you and he stood in front of a big human-like creature with purple skin.
Eddie slowly pulled you behind him.
You trembled and squeezed man's palm strongly. "Let's go back, Eddie... I don't like it..."
The mystery person or creature was no one else than Thanos himself. He turned to you and Eddie."Humans! Bow to your new ruler before I will liberate you from your biggest problem!"
Eddie blinked completely scared. It was talking and apparently, it was talking to him. "V.... one of your buddies?," he asked.
Venom formed the head next to Eddie's. "No, pal. We don't know this purple turd."
You pulled man's hand trying to run away. "Eddie," you whispered.
"Ey, motherfucker, who are ya?," Venom tilted his head narrowing his white eyes.
Eddie hushed you and pulled you behind his back, at last he had Venom to protect you and him.
Thanos looked at Venom with a frown."I am..."
His words were interrupted by another voice.
"Yea, yea! You are Thanos and you came to get stones and destroy us but you know what big, purple buddy? Not today."
It was Iron Man, Tony Stark himself in the company of Avenger's Quinjet.
"Are you okay, kids?," Iron Man asked before landing on the ground, other Avengers joined him soon.
Venom's eyes got wider as he tilted head from left to right few times. He poked Eddie's cheek. "Who they?," he asked. "You know 'em? Are they your stupid colleagues from work that we don't know about, huh?"
You nuzzled to Eddie's back panting in horror. The entire situation was too complicated for you to handle. It had to be a calm camping, for fuck's sake!
"Don't worry, we'll handle it," strong voice said. It was no one else but Captain America himself. He got out of the Quinjet, Black Widow and Thor followed him. "Tony," he nodded at Iron Man and then moved the glance of his steel blue eyes on you, Eddie and Venom, frowning a bit as he spotted the symbiote.
Venom poked Eddie's cheek. "Say something, mr reporter. Protect us. These are strangers. The blond one looks appetizing though..."
Eddie shook his head. "I don't know them personally but they are Avengers. Heroes are here. We are safe and Venom, you won't eat Captain America," he frowned looking at symbiote.
Tony nodded. "Hey there, I see that American ass and the crew joined us so we can start."
Thanos laughed deeply. "You!? What are you gonna do? Beat me to death with this pathetic freesbie? I will destroy you all."
"Yeah, you wish this, big purple mister…," Tony wasn't able to finish his sentence.
Venom observed the entire scene carefully. He turned his formed head to look at Thanos. He was stending only few feets from him. Well, Eddie once said "you can eat bad guys". And if we cannot eat that tasty booty of Captain America... We're gonna do a quick check, he thought to himself frowning. Symbiote glared back at Thanos, measuring him from the bottom to the top.
Bad guy look - check.
Has bad intentions - check.
Looks like a thing possible to eat, namely a plum - check.
Threatened Eddie, Y/N, ans these people dressed like for the masquerade - check.
Hunger - DOUBLE CHECK.
Before anyone could react, Venom overtook Eddie's body, took a large step towards Thanos and simply ate his head off, decapitating Mad Titan within blink of an eye.
"OH MY FUCKING SHIT JESUS CHRIST!," Tony yelled took completely off guard, even his helmet opened to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.
Others were just as shocked as Tony was.
At this point Eddie was fully happy that Venom took control without warning, at last, he was sure that the love of his life was safe from... Whoever or whatever it was.
"LANGUAGE, STARK," Captain snapped angrily looking at Venom in disbelief. "Did you just... What the hell!"
Venom smiled widely. "We're Venom. And we were hungry. You look tasty, too. Especially that butt of yours, so juicy. But wait. I need that purple lungs and liver, I bet they'll be more tasty than his purple head. It didn't taste like plum."
"Language, Rogers!," Tonny yelled using Steve's voice. "Exactly, WHAT THE HELL?! IT WAS OUR JOB!,” he said.
Natasha listened to Venom and shook her head. "I am getting sick, I go back to Quinjet,” she said and turned around to leave. Others followed her, leaving Cap and Iron Man alone with you and Venom.
"See? Even... this thing says you have a nice ass," Tony said looking at Steve.
Steve blushed and made a mad grimace whilst looking at Tony.
Venom was eating Thanos' body, part after part, swallowing flesh like a starving lion that hunted a prey. "We aren't a thing, dumbass, we're Venom," symbiote reminded with mouth full of flesh. After a while he hid himself leaving Eddie kneeling next to dead corpse of Mad Titan.
You watched the scene and fainted with gasp escaping your parted lips. Steve rushed to you to support you from falling onto dusty ground.
Eddie groaned and shook his head. "Oh my God.. I'm gonna be sick," he looked at the corpse and quickly moved away. "What happened?"
"What happened is that I just filled my armor with my breakfast. WHAT THE HELL and don't even try, Rogers!," Tony warned before finishing, "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!"
Eddie smiled softly and got up from the ground."Uhm... Well, some time ago I caughed this parasite and it kinda takes over my life," he shrugged and quickly moved to you. "Y/N? Sweetheart, it's okay now."
Steve was holding you into his strong arms, his blonde bangs fell onto his forehead. "She's fine, it was... A bit too much for everyone, pal," he explained carefully handling you to Brock. "The parasite you say? You do realize that this parasite has just killed Earth's greatest threat?," Steve gazed at Tony with helpless grimace. "I think this thing has just gotten our work done," he shrugged.
Venom formed his head next to Eddie's smiling widely. "Oh, hi there, America's greatest ass. You look tastier from such a short distance."
Tony rubbed his face. "Yea... I think so, Cap, let's just go before he eats you too. I think I need to go and take a nap. The sleep deprivation isn't good for me. Thanks for the help... whoever you are."
Eddie looked at Venom and smile, holding you close. "I need to say this was a good job, V, for once a good job," he petted Venom's head before picking you up in bridal style. "Well, I think we should go back to camp, but I have question. Can I, Captain?"
Steve nodded hesitantly, he took a step backward to avoid the possibility of being eaten by Venom who was petted by Eddie but still glared at him with tongue licking his fangs.
"Well, if you and the whole team are here already, could you give me an interview? I am a reporter." Eddie smiled.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Reporter with head-eating parasite and I though that God of Thunders is weird,” he commented.
Venom turned his head towards Stark. "Hey, sardine in the can? If ya have problem with Eddie, ya have a problem with us. We'll be your nightmare. Eddie, you ran blood tests lately and you had a low level of iron. We can eat this metal turd to keep your iron level at norm, what do you think?"
"We don't eat avengers, V." Eddie said with a frown. "Remember? No eating good guys."
"Exactly! We are good guys, suck me, parasite," Tony barked. "Cap, please? Give a kid an autograph and let's go home."
"Well...," Steve put hand on Eddie's shoulder. "I think we owe you this at least. If you'll promise me that your strange friend won't eat any of us," Steve smirked at Brock.
Parasite immedietely moved his head to Steve hand. "Pet, pet?," he asked.
Steve, as carefully as it was possible petted symbiote's head. "Yeah, you did a... God job. And well, you saved the world and entire universe."
Venom smiled licking Eddie's cheek. "You see, Ed, and you try to tell us what our hunger sets you in trouble constantly. But as you see, the troubles were eaten off."
Eddie smiled and sighed. "Okay! sometimes you are useful." Eddie nodded and looked at Captain. "That would be great! I will contact you when I will be back at work, okay?"
Steve smiled at man. "No problem."
Meantime you opened your eyes. Venom noticed it and instinctively nuzzled to you whispering. "We had just gotten Eddie a new job, he'll interview that bootylicious blonde man."
"Hey, sleeping beauty,” Eddie smiled at you and kissed your forehead. "Venom is right. The newspaper will have an exclusive interview with Captain America himself."
"Captain, Captain?," Venom moved head to Steve.
"Uhm, yeah?"
"Tell your iron pal that we keep our eye on him," Venom added.
Tony was pretty irritated at this point. "Yea, sure, whatever. See you in the tower, Cap,” he muttered and quickly left.
Eddie sighed. "I think all of us should head back home, it's late,” man said and looked at Venom and then back at you. "Who is tired?"
Steve greeted Brock and followed Tony to Quinjet.
Venom shook his head. "We're not but we'd like few of those marshmallows that have left in a pack. And you see, we came to this world on purpose. And this was it. We came to eat all of your and Y/N's problems. Additionally Earth's problems too. And you call us a parasite. You lack gratitude, pal."
"You can't always eat our problems, V,” Eddie sighed and looked at Venom. "But thank you and you will get all the marshmallows of the world."
Venom nuzzled to Eddie's neck. "Ya know. We love you, pal. Though your lungs smell good, we would never ever eat you. You're one of us. Till the end of the world. Or until you'll starve us to the point we won't be having other choice than to eat you."
"I love you too, V. Thank you," Eddie said and looked at you in his arms. "And we love Y/N too," he told you and kissed your forehead.
“So?,” Venom poked man's head. “Move your fat butt, Brock. We're still hungry.”
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Where the Moonlight Shines (Part One)
Summary: You’re a junior deputy in Hope County, Montana when things go to hell in a handbasket with the local cult. It’s months before help arrives in the form of the Avengers, taking you down a road you never expected.
Features: Mild violence
Pairing: TBD
Series Warnings: Canon typical violence; depictions/mentions of torture; depictions/mentions of brainwashing; will add more as they become relevant
Notes: Part One has dialogue directly from Far Cry 5; Series will primarily focus on the fallout of Hope County and Rook’s (Reader’s) recovery. While I have through part seven written, posting will likely be every other week if not longer as I go back through for the 1000th time and expand the story even more. Because of this, more warnings may be added. The story diverges entirely from MCU canon. Bucky is part of the team, IW and Endgame don’t happen and Civil War is ignored.
This is a crossover between Far Cry 5 and the MCU
Word Count: 2631
You were the newest Junior Deputy with the Hope County Sheriff’s Department. Newest was a relative term. Hope County rarely saw newcomers, unless they were flocking to that damned Project. You had spent summers there growing up, sure, but there was something different about living there full time. It was a home away from home. You’d returned to Montana on a permanent basis for peace and quiet, away from the hustle and bustle of a more populated area. It was easier to keep to yourself there, even with everyone knowing you. You had healing abilities, something that happened when you were in high school, interning in a science lab. It was something you kept to yourself.
Everyone called you Rook, even the people who had known you since you were a kid. You had started there as a dispatcher when you moved to Hope County, went through the academy when you saw the way things were heading with the Project, and got offered the position two years ago. The one thing you hated about the job was Nancy. If you had to hear Nancy go on one more time about whatever mundane thing was going on in her life, you were going to lose it.
You had been in Hope County a few years when they started causing major issues. The Project at Eden’s Gate. Locals called the members of the Project Peggies. The Project had a dark cloud over it. Suspected kidnappings. Coercing businesses into closing. They had strict policies on alcohol. Namely that it wasn’t allowed. They had seemed innocent enough when they arrived years back. Joseph Seed, the so called ‘Father’, had worked with Father Jerome for a time. You weren’t sure when things started shifting, but they did. You hated working calls dealing with the Project. Especially calls in the Henbane, because inevitably, you would end up dealing with Faith Seed. You figured if you kept to yourself, only interacting when it was required for work, you’d be fine. You were wrong. So terribly wrong.
The real trouble started when you were at the bar in Fall’s End, the Spread Eagle. It was owned by Mary May Fairgrave, who was one of the toughest women you knew and one of your oldest friends. You had just settled in to have a beer and a burger, catching up with her, when trouble walked in.
One of the leaders of the Project at Eden’s Gate came in looking smug as always. You knew which brother it was by the designer clothes he wore and the look of disdain plastered upon his face. John Seed was an arrogant bastard. He was always trying to get Mary May to close up shop, going on about how alcohol was immoral and how it drove people to sin. Preaching about how he had been lost to the vice before his brother found him. You rolled your eyes at him and continued your conversation with the bartender, pretending he wasn’t there. You considered her one of your closest friends in the county outside of Joey Hudson and Staci Pratt. You knew being ignored would only serve to rile him up.
“I’m sorry, I thought it was rude to ignore a customer,” he said, flashing a smile that was so fake it put Barbie to shame.
“What can I get you?” Mary May asked through grit teeth. You watched the interaction with caution. You could never trust a Seed.
“A water, please, and a moment of your time,” he replied. You choked back a laugh. Of course he’d only order water. You took a sip of the drink in front of you, a watered down beer that reminded you of the bonfires in high school, when everything seemed so much more simple. Nights curled up against Staci’s side, his hand never straying from your back. Staci Pratt, ex-boyfriend turned colleague and one of your best friends. You remembered nights spent laughing with Rachel Jessop, now Faith Seed. Before the drugs. Before the Project. You knew Tracey had taken it hard when Rachel joined the cult. You all had. And now there were rumors about her and something called the Bliss. You didn’t like it and investigations into it had turned up nothing, the Seeds stonewalling you at every turn.
“You know, Deputy, it is certainly unbecoming of an officer of the law to be in a place like this,” John said, drawing out the syllables in the word deputy. You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Seed, this is one of the local watering holes. You’d be hard pressed to find an officer who doesn’t come in on a night off,” you snapped. Mary May set the glass of water down on the bar, water sloshing over the side with the force, earning a dirty look from John.
“We want you to stop serving alcohol, Ms. Fairgrave. It’s a temptation for many of our flock,” John said.
“Too damn bad, Seed. This bar was here long before you and it’ll be here long after,” she said.
“We’ll see about that,” you heard him mutter before he spoke again, “I’d hate to see something happen because of one of our more zealous members. We cannot be held accountable for their actions,” he said before standing and walking out the door. As the man left the bar, she gave you a look of concern.
“I don’t trust him or those brothers of his, Rook. Sooner or later something is going to give. Did you hear about the Anderson’s kids? They just up and left, leaving a note for their parents sayin’ they were leaving their life of sin to join the Project,” Mary-May said.
“I’m sure they’re harmless. If they weren’t surely the feds would be closing in on them...hell, maybe even the Avengers. Every time we’ve carried out a welfare check, the person was accounted for,” you said. You wondered if you’d ever believe that yourself.
You had seen things when carrying out those checks that set you on edge. But there was no proof that the Seeds were doing anything illegal, no proof that people were being kidnapped. You couldn’t even get a warrant to search their properties, John Seed made sure of that. Damned Georgia lawyer. He was a massive thorn in the side of the Sheriff's Department. The hands of the department were tied, no matter how much you all hated it.
“Now that’d be a sight, the Avengers here in Hope County,” she said with a shake of her head.
“For all we know, the Project could be an arm of Hydra, now wouldn’t that be something? With the rumors that swirl about those brothers, it wouldn’t surprise me is all I’m saying,” you said.
“Keep talking like that and I’ll send ya to hang out with Zip,” she said as she wiped down the bar. You laughed. Zip Kupka was the local conspiracy theorist. You’d answered more than your fair share of calls out to his place. The only other person who could top Zip for crazy theories was Larry Parker. You sat talking for a while, until she was closing for the night. Things happened in a blur. Something went through the front window as she was flipping the chairs up and hit her. You rushed to her side.
“Mary May, stay awake...stay awake damn it,” you said as you pressed your hand to the gash on her head. You focused on the injury. Your powers were jarring when you hadn’t used them in awhile. Blue encased your hand as you worked to heal the damage. She looked at you stunned.
“That ain’t normal,” she said. You sighed as you helped her sit up. You didn’t see the two figures watching the scene from across the street in their car.
“It’s...complicated. Come on, let’s get some food and water in you,” you said, helping her up. You covered the broken window up while she sat down. You picked up the rock. There was a note attached.
“What’s it say?” she asked.
“Last warning. Close up shop, or else...Mary, I’m taking this down the station,” you said. She frowned.
“I don’t see what that’s going to do. We don’t have proof it came from the Seeds,” she said.
“John Seed has been pressuring you for weeks now to stop selling alcohol and to close down...but you’re probably right. He’ll just say it was an overzealous member of the Project,” you said, feeling defeated. You stayed the night, worried that something else would happen. You left early, glad you had the day off. You headed up to the station to drop the rock and the note off with the Eden’s Gate files before you headed home. Something was coming, you just weren’t so sure what.
-------------------------------------------------
A few days later, Cameron Burke arrived in town, with a warrant from the Federal Marshals for the arrest of Joseph seed. You had a bad feeling about the arrest. None of you were comfortable with the task. Sheriff Whitehorse had tried to talk him out of it. He had no idea what he was doing. You knew it would only provoke the hornets nest, not destroy it.
“You sure you’re alright? You can sit this one out, no judgment,” Staci said as your group headed to the helicopter.
“Alright is subjective, Pratt. I just have a bad feeling about this arrest,” you said. He nodded.
“I don’t like it either but the Marshal won’t change his mind. You know that as well as I do. He’s bullheaded. All he’s gonna do is rile them up,” he said. You nodded in agreement.
“We’ll be alright,” you said. You knew neither of you believed it. Through the flight, you tried re-watching the videos. The videos were the closest thing to evidence of wrong doing. Your stomach churned at the thought. Joseph Seed was shown on video gouging out the eyes of someone.
Pratt landed the helicopter and your feelings of unease grew. Members of the Project stood with guns at the ready. You could hear the sounds of their music playing, some song about Jacob Seed setting the sinners free. You hated the Project music, even if it was catchy. It was creepy.
“Hudson, on the door, watch our backs, don’t let any of these people get in. Rookie, on me,” Sheriff Whitehorse said. Whitehorse was like a father figure. You knew he had reservations about the arrest, which was why he told the Marshal to follow his lead. You didn’t like how cocky the Marshal was. As the three of you entered the church a chill ran down your spine as Joseph Seed spoke. His flock were listening intently, hanging on every word the man said.
“They will come, try to take from us, take our guns, take our freedom, take our faith! We will not let them!” Joseph preached. Anxiety had made itself at home, feeling like a rock in your stomach. Everything in you said to run, far away and never look back.
“Sheriff come on,” Burke said. His impatience grated on you. He didn’t understand just how tenuous the situation was.
“Just hold on Marshal,” Whitehorse said. You were saying a silent prayer, hoping Burke wouldn’t do something stupid.
“We will not let their greed, or their immorality, or their depravity hurt us anymore, there will be no more suffering,” Joseph said before the Marshal interrupted, against the warnings of the sheriff.
“Joseph Seed! I have a warrant issued for your arrest on the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent to harm. Now, I want you to step forward and keep your hands where I can see them,” Burke said. And there it was. Whatever happened now, Burke had all but sealed your fates.
You thought about what you knew about the Seeds. John was a lawyer. You’d had to deal with him on multiple occasions. He was smart, good at what he did. He was the youngest brother and owned a ranch in the valley. Jacob was the oldest, a veteran. When the family bought up St. Francis, up in the Whitetail Mountains, he’d made himself at home there. And then there was Faith Seed. Rachel Jessop. Joseph Seed had taken her under his wing and suddenly, she was known as Faith, Rachel just a memory. You avoided her if you could. She was a friend, once upon a time.
“Here they are, locusts in our garden. See they’ve come from me. They’ve come to take me away from you. They’ve come to destroy all that we’ve built!” Joseph said. The jeering from the crowd grew louder. Your breathing grew more shallow. You were terrified. There were far more of them than there were of you. Even with Hudson at the door, just outside, you were outnumbered and outgunned. Burke made a move for his gun.
“Don’t touch that service weapon!” Whitehorse snapped. He called for calm as Joseph did the same for his congregants.
“We knew this moment would come. We have prepared for it. Go, go, God will not let them take me,” Joseph said, as his siblings moved behind him. He raised his arms in the air, head tilted up toward the ceiling as members of his congregation walked toward the doors.
“I saw when the Lamb opened the first seal and I heard as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts say “come and see” and I saw. And behold, it was a white horse, and hell followed with him,” Joseph said, his gaze falling on you as he held his arms out.
“Rookie, cuff this son of a bitch,” Burke said. You felt a cold sweat form. Why you? Why did you have to be the one to cuff him when the Marshal was the one who came to arrest him? You were there as back up, not to be the arresting officer. You looked at him. You felt the eyes of all four Seeds on you, curious about what you would do. You were frozen to the spot. You could refuse, walk away, pretend it never happened. Live your life.
“Rookie, come on,” Burke said, getting impatient. You went against your gut. Your hands shook as you took your cuffs from your belt. You closed your eyes as you locked them in place, feeling as though you had just set something in motion you couldn’t take back.
As you got Joseph into the chopper, his people snapped into action. They were not going to let you go. Even as Pratt went to take off, people were still climbing on the chopper and soon, it was falling from the sky as Joseph sang Amazing Grace. You blacked out for a moment, opening your eyes to see Joseph staring at you. You reached for the dangling headset as Nancy’s voice came over the radio. Joseph responded, and when you heard her call him Father, you cursed her out in your head. You should have known she was one of them.
“Let the Reaping begin!” Joseph yelled. As much as you wanted to help your colleagues, your friends, you knew you couldn’t save them and yourself. You got yourself out and took off. You found Burke and the two of you attempted to make a get away, only to end up going off the bridge and into the water. When you next came to, you found yourself cuffed to a bed in a bunker, only to find it belonged to Dutch, a prepper who saved you from the Seeds and the Project when you came on shore. You couldn’t help but think back to what Whitehorse had said before you’d headed to the church. Sometimes it’s best to leave well enough alone.
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Captivated
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x OC!Reader
Warnings: kidnapping, murder, violence, smut, toxic relationships, abuse, abusive childhood, trauma
Summary: Billy Hargrove is a killer, hell bent on revenge. Layla Gonzalez is a college student with a dark and cloudy past. When Layla is taken hostage and forced to work with Billy in order to survive, will they be able to get passed their differences, and see the people behind the scars? A stalker seeks to finish something Layla started a long time ago. When they come head to head, will Billy protect her? Or will he add another victim to his list?
A/N: I’ve tried this AU before and it never felt quite right. I’m hoping with Billy I may be able to pull it off because I love the idea and the potential of a good thriller. Please, please leave comments. Let me know what you think. Is this something I should continue? Also, all the younger kids in stranger things are 16 and 17 for the purpose of this fic. Thank you
Part 2
Something crawled over my skin as i left my last class for the night. It wasn’t physical, but i could feel it. Trepidation, fear, something was coming for me and I wouldn’t be able to stop it.
I usually never walked home from class, but my car was in the shop getting fixed and I only lived a couple blocks away. I decided to hoof it. Why not? It was summer, the sun was only just setting and nothing bad ever seemed to happen in my little town of Hawkins, Indiana.
Cars buzz past me, I barely pay attention, focused instead on the quiet evening I had planned at home. A night of romance novels and chocolate ice cream, maybe the Goonies if I was feeling up to it. I didn’t have any friends, with my condition, being the way it was, I couldn’t. If I got them, they would eventually give up, having only come to my aid to try and help bring me out of myself. They would give up before they even got to know me.
I didn’t notice the car trailing me. Not until it was right up beside me. The driver honked, startling me. I turned in time to see the driver roll the passenger side window down. He leaned over and flashed a friendly smile my way.
“Need a ride?” he asks me. I shake my head.
“No. I’m only a few blocks down.” he shrugs his shoulders.
“I can drop you off, it’s not a problem.” he smiles again. It’s disarming. He doesn’t look like a bad guy either. He has golden brown curls, cut in the style of a mullet, thick black eye brows and light blue eyes, framed in long dark lashes. He wore a faded denim jacket, dark red flannel, half buttoned and a silver ring on is middle finger. His baby faced looks made me feel safe. He couldn’t be that much older than me. I smile shyly and reach for the door handle, ignoring the voice in the back of my mind, screaming at me not to.
“Okay.” he grins, sitting back as I open the door and hop into his blue camaro. It’s nice inside, clean. I’m relieved to see it’s clean, germs give me panic attacks. “Thank you.” I say as I slam the door.
“Not a problem.” he says, pulling away from the curb. We drive in silence for a bit, i watch the street signs, waiting for my road to come up.
“You can turn here.” he ignores me. I turn my head to look at him. His eyes have narrowed, fists white knuckles on the steering wheel. Dread instantly pools in my belly. “You missed my turn.” I squeak quietly. He smirks, turning to meet my gaze.
“Now you knew better than to get into a car with a stranger.” I open my mouth in a silent scream as he child safety locks my door and speeds down the road. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Where are you taking me?” I ask him, my voice is quiet. I feel numb. This cannot be happening. This isn’t real.
“I need your help.” he says. “You help me and once I’m in the clear I’ll let you go.”
“What do you need my help with?” he pulls onto the bypass, taking us out of Hawkins. My nails dig into the fabric of my jeans, my anxiety beginning to rise within me. Before he can answer we see flashing lights ahead. Some sort of police checkpoint. I see him sit up out of the corner of my eye, jaw clenching, he glares at me.
“Keep your mouth shut.” he reaches over me as he slows down. He sticks his hand in the glove box, pulling a black item out of it. It only takes me a moment to realize what it is.
He makes sure the safety is clicked on as he comes to a stop. He sets the gun in his lap and puts on a pair of sunglasses. I look around, no one else is out here but us. It’s late, nobody comes into town past 9 most nights. I’m so fucked.
A short officer with a brown mustache walks over, the man? Boy? Christ, I know nothing about this dude, rolls down his window. “Evening Officer.” the cop leans down, peering into the car.
“Evening. Sorry to stop you folks, but we’re looking for a man who might be on the run.” my skin begins to crawl again, fear making its way up my body to wrap around my throat like a snake. I stay silent, watching his hand beneath the seat.
“Oh?” is all he says to the officer. The officer smiles kindly at me and turns his attention back to the man who had taken me.
“Yeah….Billy Hargrove. Say he might be responsible for some murders and a gas station robbery out this way. We’ve got all the ways out of town blocked, so we can catch him.” the man nods, taking in the officer’s words.
“I’m sure you’re all doing a fine job at that.” I can hear the sarcasm dripping from his words. I press my back into the door behind me.
“Thank you sir….Now if you don’t mind, can you remove the glasses?” the man sighs, he pushes them further up his nose, I see him reaching down to grab the gun.
“Ya know…..Ah fuck it.” His arm shoots out, he grips my wrist tightly, pulling me over his lap. He brings the gun to the back of my head, I feel the cool metal press against my scalp. The cop steps back, pulling his own weapon.
“Drop it Hargrove.” I feel the gun press into me harder.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” he sounds calm, almost serene as he stares down the officer. “You’re gonna let me through and pretend you never saw me. Or I’m going to shoot her and then I’m going to shoot you and be on my way. Either way I’m out of here. But it’s your choice.” There’s a few heavy moments of silence, my heart pounds in my ears, his arm over my back and his hand pressed against my scalp with that gun. Silent tears fall down my cheeks.
After what feels like forever he pushes me off, not roughly, but not with any gentle sincerity either. I watch him put the gun back beneath his seat. He salutes the officer before peeling past the check point and speeding away.
“Might want to buckle up. I like to drive fast.” I reach over and grab the seat belt, fastening it around myself.
The Camaro is loud. It sends rumbles of vibration all the way down to my bones. Like a massage after the chaos back at the check point.. I looked around, trying to find a way out. That was when i noticed, there was no handle on the inside of the passenger door. I was stuck so I stayed quiet. Out of fear. The man drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, listening to a song on the radio. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either. "Are you going to kill me?" I asked softly, so low he might not even hear me. He stopped drumming and turned to look at me for the first time since he’d taken me.
"Wasn't planning on it." He replied. “I just needed a scapegoat once I finished my job. Taking you was the only way I would have gotten out of there alive.”
“W-why do you say that?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. He cocked his eyebrow, finally taking off his glasses, his eyes were a deep brown, almost black.
“You...You don’t watch tv do you ?” I shook my head. The news gave me anxiety. The only time I left my dorm was for class or work. Necessities. I kept to myself. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned on his turn signal.
“Why do you ask?” I asked a bit louder. I watched his adam’s apple bob and his eyes scan the road, searching for the right answer.
“I uh, I’m in a business most don’t agree with.” he said.
I decided to push a little further, “what do you do?”
“I’m...I’ve killed people.” he said it solemnly. Like he wasn’t proud of it, but he had to do it. I feel the panic begin to rise again. He cleared his throat. “What’s your name?” he asked, changing the subject.
“M-my…..it’s Layla.” I said, wishing I sounded braver than she felt. “Layla Gonzalez.”
“And’ I’m Billy Hargrove.” he responded, “You know, you’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who didn’t know who I am.” he sighed, clicking his tongue, “You’re a weird girl.”
“Says the man who just admitted to murder being his occupation.” he laughed, shaking his head.
“Yeah, maybe we’re both just weird.” He paused and then said carefully, "I won’t hurt you."the tone of his voice is softer, calmer, and surprisingly soothing "Unless you make me." He added with emphasize on ‘make’.
“H-How many…” I trailed off, unable to finish my question. It was strange, I could never talk and be this open with just anybody. I usually just kept quiet, and stayed in my lane. I wasn’t the type of person to make waves. Not since before…..
“How many people have I killed?” Billy finished for me. I nodded, glad to have been pulled back from the darkness of my thoughts. He bit his lip, trying to think of the right answer, “If I had to count….possibly sixty.” my mouth fell open in shock.
“Oh my….” I instinctively moved further from him. I focused on my shoes, on the scuffs and the threads in the laces, anything to keep me from going crazy. We sat in silence for a long while. Billy began to twitch as it stretched, it was slight, barely noticeable. Except I saw it. "So where are you taking me?" I asked awkwardly, eyes darting to his before looking ahead again.
“I’m not sure yet.” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. “I gotta make a pit stop to some colleagues of mine, might just drop you off at a station of something. Do you got any family?”
“We aren’t close.” I say quietly. My parents barely spoke to me anymore….Ever since Lexa….They disowned me in everything but name. “No one will miss me. I’m sure.” I could feel his eyes on me, I turned my head to look out the window, tears beginning to fall down my cheeks. “I’ve….I’ve never left Hawkins before.” I say, trying to lighten my own mood and look at my situation differently. If I allowed myself to fall down the rabbit hole of dread, who knew what he would do. He admitted to being a murderer. He probably wouldn’t have a problem killing me.
“Yeah?” he asks, picking up on my change in subject. “Then think of it as a mini vacation. How old are you?”
“Nineteen.” I say, still not looking at him.
“Why don’t you get some sleep. We got a bit of a drive ahead of us. I’ll wake you when we get to a place to eat or something.” his words are softer, kinder. It sends my head spinning, this cold and calculating killer, suddenly wants me to get some sleep?
He must’ve seen my text books on the floor boards, because before i could doze off he asked me.
“You in school?”
“College.” I murmured. “I wanted to be a nurse.”
“Huh.” I hear him say surprised. “Isn’t that somethin’.” He didn’t say anything else. And i feel into a fitful sleep, a dream filled with roars and screams of an engine and the face of a monster.
Third Person P.O.V
He shut the door behind himself. The dorm room was empty and he couldn’t feel her presence anymore. She was just...gone. He walked over to Layla’s desk, flipping open her sketchbook, scattering papers, he became manic, flipping over her mattress, emptying her cabinets.
Where the fuck was she? He missed her and it was time for her to come home.
Part 2?
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15 + byeler !
A full decade had passed since the Byers moved from Hawkins, Indiana, and almost every day in those 10 years were filled with a slowly growing amount of freedom and relief from the terrors brought by the Upside Down. It was only almost every day because a return to Hawkins brought back the monsters but once that was defeated, things seemed to mellow out. Will didn’t mean to lose contact with his friends, but time slipped from his fingers as high school piled work on his shoulders. The only person he really managed to talk to constantly was Mike and that was mostly because he would call for El and incidentally chat to Will in the meantime.
When Mike and El broke up for undisclosed reasons, the calls for Will surprisingly grew in frequency. That is until graduation. Thankfully they both had different graduation dates and managed to visit for each other’s celebrations. Will’s was after his friends and they all came up on a road trip to visit him. The ceremony itself was amazing and the celebration after was great as well. He spent a large part of the late night sitting on the porch with Mike nursing a couple beers and chatting about things they hadn’t had the chance to discuss on the phone thanks to time constraints. Somewhere along the line, boundaries were crossed and Will found himself with a lapful of his best friend and the sweet addicting taste of Mike’s kissing burning love into his mouth. It wasn’t quite the most ideal way to confess what he’d been holding in all these years, but he would take what he could get.
Then Mike told him he was moving to California for school and everything started to fall apart.
They tried, they really did. That’s what Will tells himself at least. He knows it’s not true. He knows he could have done more, could have called more, could have sent more letters, could have saved up to visit during his breaks. He knows Mike could have called more, could have sent more letters, could have saved to come visit. When they went the entirety of the second semester of junior year only talking once to discuss a spring break visit that never came to full fruition, Will figured they grew apart.
It hurt like hell to accept that and when they met again in the summer when the Party regrouped for the last summer before college graduation, things were admittedly awkward and almost forced. Still, Will didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to call it quits. Mike didn’t either, so they held hands and kissed and it felt right but felt so empty as well.
Graduating from university brought a new set of difficulties. Mike was moving to New York for a book review job incidentally where Will was, but Will was moving to Chicago to continue his education and get his masters in visual art and design. They still didn’t call it quits, but Will let himself flirt a little more at the gay bars in town, and he listened to Mike’s rare calls where he chatted about his new friends and the dinner date he was having with a colleague during the weekend.
The terrors of the Upside Down had settled and become little more than nightmares but the emptiness left behind burrowed itself into longing and desperate aching for someone he finally had but truly might as well didn’t have.
So, a decade passed, Will was 24 and graduating with his masters. He easily spotted his mom and sister in the audience, El waving eagerly with her girlfriend Max at her side. Will still wasn’t sure when that had happened but he was happy that El was living her life so well with someone who cared about her so deeply. He tried to find Mike in the audience, but he barely remembered what he looked like in a general way. Of course he remember his eyes and his nose and his lips and all the specifics but Will knew he himself grew and changed into young adulthood and some days he barely recognized himself in the mirror. Maybe Mike looked different enough, too.
By the time Will’s name was called, he assumed Mike hadnt been able to make it over. When he made his way up on stage though, he heard a familiar whoop and nearly tripped on his graduation gown. His eyes darted out in the crowd, searching frantically for that familiar face but he couldn’t find him in time for receiving the certificate and making his way off stage. The rest of the ceremony left Will in a statement of constant nervousness and he couldn’t even remember making his way over to his family.
When he felt familiar arms slink around his waist, he almost collapsed into tears on the spot. He turned to hug Mike, tucking his face into the crook of Mike’s shoulder with a choked back sob. Mike pulled him in close and rocked him in his arms murmuring something Will wasn’t really able to pay attention to anyway. They separated before the hug started to look a little less platonic than it was, and Will looked up into deep brown eyes he hadn’t seen in what felt like two years at the very least.
“You came,” was all he could say as he wiped at his tears. “You actually came. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“You’re my friend; of course I’m gonna come see you graduate.”
“Friend.”
Mike tensed and let his hand brush against Will’s for a second longer. When he spoke, his voice was a barely there whisper. “You know you’re more to me than that, Will.”
“Am I? Am I really, Michael?” Will didn’t know where this anger was suddenly coming from, but he felt all the pent up frustration at their relationship burst through his chest. “What are we? You don’t send letters or postcards, when we talk on rare occasion it’s about basically nothing, and I haven’t seen you in literal years! I don’t know who you are anymore.” He calmed down and bowed his head. “I just really miss talking with you. I miss being with you.”
Mike nodded and took Will’s hands in his own. Will was the one who tensed now, eyes darting toward the dissipating crowd. “Will, look at me.” He did as asked and felt his throat clog up with emotion. “The past six years have been so difficult for both of us and I’m sorry for not putting us first. But you know what, if I can, I’d like to start over. Do this properly.”
“Mike.”
The taller man smiled and released Will’s hands to grab his face instead. “Will Byers, would you be my boyfriend for real this time?”
Will laughed and nodded as he overlaid Mike’s hands with his own. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”
#yams answers#yams writes#cstlebyrs#byler#byeler#this one made me sadth#me: writes angst but then makes it happy bc i couldnt handle keeping it sad#prompt? complete#otp: palaric
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