#got put in a decision making position at my job and every meeting makes me feel like a lost and scared prey animal

[captorcorp]

taking career aptitude tests and i think my ideal career path is bumbling minion to a cartoon villain. that pays me 1 billion dollars

[allywthsr]

EPILOGUE | (l.norris)

summary: epilogue of Lan on Raya! What happened the last three years and another big question.

wordcount: 2.1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: miscarriage, getting a dog

notes: someone requested this and I thought why not? Give me ideas in my inbox for specific things and maybe it won’t be the last time you hear from these two🫶🏼 it’s short, I’m sorry but I didn’t want to make it too big. comment your thoughts!

part one part two part three

It’s been three years since you met Lando, let’s see what happened.

In the beginning, it was hard for you two to see each other often, with Lando living in Monaco and you in London, you couldn’t just pop over, and with his job as well, Lando travels a lot, and with your job, you had to stay put in one place. So whenever he was in England for the MTC, he came over for a few days to spend with you and whenever you had free time, you would fly over to him or come with him for a race. The whole time you kept in touch via FaceTime or texting, there were weeks when you would see his family more often than you saw him.

Because of the vacation, you created a bond with his family, especially his sisters, and loved catching up with them, they would visit you in London a lot, Lando was always jealous, but you had to remind him, that it was his own decision to move to Monaco.

After a year of a long-distance relationship you decided to move together, temporarily.

Lando moved most of his stuff in your apartment, to see whether you could endure each other or not.

But you did. You could remember one specific evening where it was still fresh with the moving together and Max and Pietra came over. At some point, all of you were hammered and Max decided it was time for Mario Kart. While he and his girlfriend were playing against each other, you were screaming all sorts of advice to Pietra, while Lando hugged you tight to keep you from it. The whole day he had been touchy, squeezing your side and hiding his head behind your back, because he couldn’t stand to see Max driving into the wall for the fifth time. You wished someone had documented this moment, because of how sweet he had been, he was truly like one of these Pinterest boyfriends.

But it all worked out, and the temporary move in became a full move-in.

You two moved into a bigger apartment just half a year later, wanting more space.

That’s also where some negative events happened, just one and a half years into the relationship you got pregnant, it’s not like you planned it, it more or less, just happened.

You had a really bad cold and the doctor gave you medication which apparently messed with your birth control, so when your period didn’t come and you began to puke every morning, you got suspicious. You took a test when Lando was at the MTC, doing a few last tests, before the season started and when it came back positive, you almost fainted. This was not on your bingo card for the year, nor for the next year, after all, you only were in a relationship with Lando for a year and a half, not enough to become pregnant. You took two more tests and when there was no denying that a little human was growing in your stomach, you couldn’t wait for Lando to get home. You tried to call him and say you needed him back sooner but he was in the sim and important meetings where he was forced to switch off his phone.

Once he finally came through the door, you ran and hugged him tight, he had to promise you to not get mad, which he did, and when you told him, you‘ve never seen him react so slowly. At first, he couldn’t believe what you were saying, staring at you in disbelief, and when you repeated it twice he finally hugged you back. Obviously, it wasn’t planned, but he was still over the moon.

In the following weeks, Lando had been the sweetest boyfriend you could imagine, bringing you food, holding your hair and rubbing your back while you puked every morning, cuddling with you and stroking your belly every chance he got. After just one month of discovering your pregnancy, you woke up to really bad stomach cramps, Lando was lying asleep next to you when you saw that the bedsheet beneath you was completely red. You shook Lando awake and he rushed you to the hospital but there was nothing the doctors could’ve done, by the time you got there it was already too late.

The next few weeks have been rough, you barely talked, you barely touched or looked at each other. It was like living with a stranger, saying good morning and goodnight, maybe a nod when he asked you if you wanted to eat something, but other than that, you couldn’t. You felt super guilty for not being able to carry the life inside of you, Lando didn’t know about your thoughts but you had them and they weren’t pretty.

One afternoon Lando basically dragged you in his car and when you arrived, it was a therapist. The sessions had helped you, your mental health, and your relationship, after just one month it was like it never had happened. Not that you forgot about your little baby, but Lando and you talked again, you started to be intimate again, and it felt like it was back to normal. In the backyard of his parents, both of you planted a tree to remind your unborn child, you could see the tree grow like your child should have grown up, but that’s life.

Every day the burden got lighter, until you could fully let go.

The next year and a half was spent with so much love and light. Lando and you started to build a house, it’s something he always wanted to do and so you both got a lot near his parents, where the house was built. You moved in after a year and it was perfect, you were so damn grateful to have Lando by your side, without him you could never have the life you have now. You quit your job and started working at Quadrant, you were behind the scenes and did office stuff, keeping everything organized, that way you could travel with Lando to every race and not be unemployed since you were sure that the boss wouldn’t fire you. After all, you pleasured him nearly every night.

You still went on every Norris family holiday and his family loved you as much as you loved them. You were happy that you had such a good bond with them, whenever Lando was at the MTC and you were bored, you went to his parent's house, enjoying some drinks with Cisca.

All in all, you were the happiest girl in the world, you were sure. He was spoiling you whenever he wanted, buying you things where he would tell you, that he reminded him of you. That Louis Vuitton bag? It was your favorite color and he couldn’t wait to see you wearing it. Bringing you your favorite chocolate from the store, when he only wanted to get gas? He needed to because he knew that your period was due soon. But it was not all materialistic things he spoiled you with.

Kisses on your forehead? All. The. Time.

Needing a hug before every race? Yep.

Making sweet love to you? Every night.

He was addicted to your pussy, he had to be. He worshipped it, taking his time, whenever he went down on you (and it happened all the time).

The topic of kids was still on the table. He wanted to have some after he retired, but when you were pregnant, he was the happiest he‘d ever been. With that in mind, he wanted you to be pregnant soon, you tried to keep his head calm and remind him how hard it could be to become pregnant again after a miscarriage, and how scared you were after the experience. He understood that but still rooted for you to get pregnant.

”You would look so hot with a bump.“

”I can’t wait to talk to my child every day through your belly.“

”Y/N, I want to put a baby in you!“

”I need a mini Y/N and a mini Lando.“

”You‘d be the milf and I’d be the dilf.“

”Imagine them in a race suit and sitting in my car?“

”We could do a quadrant baby merch series!“

The list goes on and on. But he was right, he would be the hottest dilf in history.

Oh and the dog that you both got? Adorable! You got it shortly after you moved into your forever home, it was your favorite breed and you named the little brown dog mocha. He came with you to every race and followed you everywhere, even going to the toilet alone was becoming harder with the puppy needing you. You three went on long walks together through the forest, and when he got older Lando even took him jogging. Mocha wasn’t the happiest about running several miles but when he was with his dad, it didn’t matter. One of the funniest moments was when Lando made a custom LN4 dog bucket hat and sat Mocha in his car, the little dog didn’t know what was happening but he loved the attention he got, the people were taking pictures of him, talking to him and petting him and that was all he needed, but only when both of you were around. Mocha needed both of you, the amount of pictures Lando and you had on your phone of just Mocha and the other cuddling in the evening on the couch or some hotel bed, was insane.

But back to where you are right now, in your backyard. How did you get here? More to that in a second.

The house you both built was perfect, it was modern but homey. The high ceilings were paired with white walls and light wood-colored details, like the Kitchen that had a wood-colored work surface and the living room that had a wood-colored coffee table just like the TV wall. Lando and you loved designing it, taking your time to figure out what you really wanted. You had several guest rooms, that could be turned into kid's rooms, whenever you needed to, Lando built himself a gaming room and you both shared an office. In the basement was a billiard table and other fun things. The backyard was huge, a lot of trees were standing around the property and you loved it, just like Mocha. The little brown dog loved to run around and catch every ball you threw him.

And that was where you were standing right now, the backyard, it was already dark outside but the candles that were lit, made the place glow. You had been cooking dinner when you heard Mocha bark without stopping, in fear that he caught a squirrel again and Lando took it away from him, you made your way to the glass door, but seeing Lando standing surrounded by electric candles, wasn’t something you expected.

”Lando? What is this?“

”Come here, love.“

You stepped closer to where Lando was standing and slowly it dawned on you. While taking your hand, he started to speak.

”Y/N, I’ve known you for more than three years and I must admit, it had been the best years of my life.“

You chuckled.

”We had many ups and downs, but whatever it was, we got through it and it only made us stronger. We‘re already a family with Mocha…“

You looked at the dog that was circling you both, not knowing what was happening.

”…and I can’t wait to grow a bigger family with you. I love you so much, even with your sweatpants and my hoodie, socks that have holes in them, and messy hair. I’ve never seen a much more beautiful woman than you and I‘m so happy I went on Raya that day to get a quick fuck, who would’ve thought that I would find you, my soulmate. I love to play Mario Kart with you at two a.m., and I will braid your hair for the rest of your life, with a face mask in my face that does absolutely nothing, except steal your money. I‘m super thankful for you, for every race you join, how you’re not mad at me for putting a picture of you on the back of my helmet, directly in front of the camera, so everyone can see you while I‘m driving and that way you’re always with me, for every kiss… the list could go on and on, but you know this stuff. I need you in my life, and I will not let you go, so…“

He went down on one knee and now it was more than clear what was happening, with glossy eyes you followed Lando’s movements, as he pulled out a little box and opened it, before taking one of your hands in his‘ again, looking at you with a big smile and the same glossy eyes as you.

”Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?“

a/n: tell me your favorite dog breed in the comments

[a-heart-attack-ow]

The Arrangement. Part Fifteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen:

Colby's Pov

I'd never wanted things to be like this. I never asked for the pain and torment that came along with every decision I  made. Every consequence had to be kept inside of me, so many secrets that I felt like I might tear apart at the seams. I didn't know how I hadn't yet, but I didn't. There were so many things that no one knew about me, so many awful choices that I couldn't undo. So many sins I needed to atone for. For years I truly believed that every choice I made had been because I'd been forced to make it. That it was my family's doing and I was helpless to play along. A part of me still felt that way, my position as CEO had shifted things in my life. Sometimes I had to allow the bad decisions to happen, sometimes I let the board get away with murder. It was all a part of the game. The delicate balance of being a leader and trying to make everyone happy. It was an impossible job, but it was her approval that meant the most to me. Even though I knew that, if she knew everything, she wouldn't approve. But there were some things that my job demanded and I had to do it, regardless of what my sweet wife wanted. 

The thought of her sweet face, her wide-eyed gaze, causes a pang of guilt to move through me. I'd done terrible things before she came into my life and I still did terrible things that she couldn't know about.I think about her on an endless loop as my eyes glance down on the stack of documents strewn across my desk. I'm sitting in the darkness of my home office with a glass of whiskey in my hand as I comb through the endless data reports that never seemed to cease. I can feel a migraine coming on as my phone goes off, the screen lighting up with a text message from Sam.  My brow furrows as I glance at the text that reads; "Just got word that the package was secured. No Witnesses." The tension in my head and shoulders has me in knots but I try not to think of what the message and what it meant. Shea had threatened my family when she spoke to my wife, could've ruined everything if she leaked the video of the two of us, and she had to be dealt with. My eyes close at the thought, a lump in my throat forming. 

Death was all around me, ever since I was old enough to work for the family business. I tried to remind myself that this death wasn't my fault. I didn't order the hit, they did. I cover my mouth as I breathe a deep breath, my anxiety suddenly spiking. I never wanted anything to happen to my ex. I knew she'd tried to harm my family, but that didn't mean I was alright with what just happened. I prayed that whatever hitman the board had hired had completed their objective quickly and without pain. With trembling hands I bring the glass of whiskey to my lips and drink down the full contents of the glass all at once. It burns my throat, but it numbs some of the pain I was feeling. The sadness of what had just happened. 

Another secret that I had to keep from my wife. 

Guilt continues to tug at my heartstrings as I hear her in the other room, she's singing to our daughter as they finish up cooking dinner. Mentally I can picture her beautiful face as she holds our three-year-old in her arms and sings to her. I can see my daughter, who looks like my mini-me watching her mother in fascination. Like she's a real life princess with a heart of gold. Which she was, Emilia was a princess with a heart of gold. I'd never known someone who cared more for other people. She undid all the bad I put into the world and I still didn't know what I'd done to deserve her. I'd done everything wrong in my life, but she and our daughter were the only parts of my life that were good. I'm taken out of my deep thoughts when I hear a knock at my office door. A hesitant knock that seemed to be worried about disturbing me from my work. A disturbance that I welcomed.

"Come In." 

I rasp, putting on my nicest smile. Pushing down the heartache of tonight, my shame. Her green-eyes meet mine from the doorway when she opens it, our daughter on her hip. She has her long dark hair up in a clip, her apron stained red with tomato sauce. 

"Tell daddy what you wanted to tell him."

She whispers to our daughter, her smile wide as she looks down at Eleanor. Eleanor, who glances back at me with a big smile so wide it makes my heart melt. My daughter had me wrapped around her finger and she knew it. She throws her tiny arms up in the air like she's riding a roller coaster and announces excitedly; 

"Daddy, dinner is ready! And the uncles are here!" 

Her voice is so sweet, it almost makes the lump that had been in my throat return. I think of what it would be like if my daughter got mixed up with a bad man in the future. What it would be like if that bad man had worse men working above him. Men who could choose to silence her without a trace. I think of what that would be like to lose her the way Shea's family was going to lose her. The guilt builds up inside of me and tears start to form in my eyes without warning. Immediately, Emilia notices, her beautiful face contorting to genuine concern. She looks at Eleanor and whispers; 

"Go find Uncle Jake, okay? Tell him mama needs to speak with daddy for a few minutes."

Eleanor looks up at her mother, glances back at me and nods. Emilia puts her down and waits for the pitter patter of Eleanor's little feet to carry her down the hallway before closing the door behind her. Without missing a beat, she walks towards me. Once she reaches me, she sits on the corner of my desk, her legs brushing mine as her green eyes stare down at me. 

"What's happened?"

She asks softly, her hands reaching out to move some of my hair out of my face. She studies me closely and I know that I'm supposed to lie to her, but I don't think that I can. I already kept so much from her to protect her, but I can't. I run my hands over her apron covered hips before I guide her into my lap. She doesn't speak as I hold onto her with everything I have, my hands keeping a firm hold as if she’ll slip through my fingers if I don't. 

"The board made a decision on what to do about our Shea problem and followed through with it. She won't be a problem anymore."

My words hang in the air gravely, my voice lifeless. In my arms, I feel her body stiffen for a moment. In caution, her eyes search mine, her lips pulling into a tight line. For a moment I think she's going to get off of my lap and flip out on me, but she doesn't. Instead, she looks at me and mulls over what I've just told her. Her gaze is gentle as she places her hands on either side of my face. 

"I'm sorry."

Her words break me and the tears I'd formed only seem to get worse as I let out a quiet sob. I wasn't in love with Shea anymore, but I never dreamed something this awful would happen to her. That the board would want to go this far, especially since her father was on the board. It had been his decision after all. I didn't want to believe this would happen, but it did. Emilia pulls me in against her, my head on her chest as her fingers find my hair. She lets me fall apart and breathes with me. Her touch is light and comforting as she plays with my hair. After a few minutes she starts to hum a soothing melody, her warmth making me feel safe. 

"Colby, I am so sorry that this happened. I wish that it hadn't."

I wish it hadn't either. In the past few years I'd suffered three major deaths and it was weighing on me. This, paired with my job, made me feel so isolated. I felt like I was constantly trying to keep my head above the water, but I didn't know what to do. Once you were in this job, there was no getting out. You just had to play along and outlive the bastards who made life Hell. 

"Thank you for being here."

I rasp, breathing her in. The scent of her perfume only added to the comfort I was feeling. I lift my head from her chest and study her face. I study the fullness of her lips, the sharpness of her jawline, the arch of her eyebrows, and the individual freckles on her face. Each feature is beautiful. Her head tilts to the side as she studies me. A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

"There is nowhere else, I'd rather be. I'm here for you Colbs, through everything..."

She pauses, her full lips resting against the top of my forehead in a quick little kiss. 

"... I think we should do something to honor her legacy..."

She pauses once more when she sees the look on my face. The look of honest confusion of how we would honor Shea the best. Emilia leans in once more to give my forehead another kiss. 

"... Just think about it. You don't have to make a decision today, but think about it. You'll know when you make the best decision." 

Her faith in me feels nice, but I doubted I could make a good decision without some sort of guidance. I didn't exactly have the best track record with that. I'd always been the screw-up in my family and I was still trying my best to change that. The look on her face tells me that she sees the mental struggle going through my head. She gives me a small smile before pressing her lips to mine softly, a gesture that always takes my breath away. A gesture, had we not had a dinner to get to, that would've resulted with me fucking her senselessly. 

"Come join everyone for dinner Colbs..."

She whimpers against my lips as I reach out and lightly grab the back of her neck. A flicker of desire enters her eyes for a moment before she pushes the feeling down. 

".. I worry about you working in here all day without anyone else. I know it's lonely, but you're not alone."

I knew she worried. I knew she worried because she would come and check on me multiple times a day. She'd make snacks or drag me out to each lunch with her and Eleanor. It wasn't that I didn't want to join them, it was just hard to balance between who I had to be for work and who I was when I was with my girls. My wife and my little bug were such positive forces that it was almost difficult to stay in character when I was around them for too long. The cold leader role wasn't something I wanted to play, but needed to be to keep up with appearances. I nod as she gets off of my lap, her hands in mine as she pulls me from my desk chair. Her five foot nothing frame is so much smaller than my 5'11 frame and I can't help but smile down at her. She's determined though, dragging me with her from my office to the dining room without glancing back. When we emerge into the dining room I'm met by the eyes of my associates, then men that had become brothers to me. 

"Yay! Mama got daddy out of the dungeon."

Eleanor shouts from her seat next to Jake, they'd been sitting out here with the table set and food ready while they waited for us. Sat between Jake and Sam, Eleanor's tiny legs barely hang over the side of the chair. She looks at me proudly from her spot between her two favorite 'uncles' as she calls the men who work under me. I smile over at her and wait until Emilia is sat down before I sit down next to her. 

"Yes, Bug mama got me out of the dungeon."

She giggles from her seat as my eyes move to the others who are sitting around this table. The others who all knew what had happened tonight. I can tell by the look on Sam's face that he feels bad about telling me, but it was his job to tell me what the board had decided to do. He wasn't at fault, he was just relaying the message. Corey, Jake, Nate, and Johnnie also peer back at me sympathetically, but I try not to focus on them for too long because I can feel the same twinge of guilt threatening to spill over. Instead, I focus on the spread of food that's been provided for us. The food I knew Emilia had spent hours making. The two huge pans of lasagna, fresh salad, and garlic bread. 

"Let's eat."

A smile plays on Emilia's lips as she says this. The others don't wait a second longer before digging in. Jake makes a small plate for Eleanor, which she 'tanks' him for. For several minutes no one speaks as we dig in and take our first few bites of food. I close my eyes as I process every tasty bite, mentally thanking myself for taking Emilia's request to cook for us instead of hiring a whole staff. Growing up my mother never cooked anything herself. Every aspect of parenting she hired someone else to do. We were more like accessories to her when we were little. When Sam and I had gotten older, we became pawn pieces. But Emilia was a great cook, a great wife, and mother. She was great at everything. I look up from my plate to see her talking to Johnnie, laughing at the story he's telling, his face animated. The conversations happening around the table are lively, but I'm just sitting in silence focused on my food until Sam nudges me. 

"You good?"

He asks, not trying to pry. Afraid if he does I'll get upset again. The honest answer was that I wasn't alright, but at the same time I was doing okay. Everything was just weird and off today and I didn't know how else to be or feel. 

"I'm okay. It's always something Sam. I just want a break from it all." 

He nods, biting down on the bottom of his lip as he ponders what to say next. If anyone knew what I was feeling, it would be Sam. We grew up together and as my adopted brother, he was fully aware of the isolation and the struggle to try and be present in these familial moments. He opens his mouth to speak, but stops himself, deciding that doesn't like whatever he is going to say. The truth was, there was no right thing to say. He knew that once you're in this world there's no getting out. We were just unfortunate enough to be born and brought up in this world. We never knew any different and I honestly wondered what we would even do if we could get out of this job. It's all we'd ever known. 

The talking happening around the table ceases when Eleanor stands on her chair, everyone looking at her. She has a look of determination on her face as she looks at me. 

"Daddy, can you get me a sister?"

Her question sounds so innocent, but it makes the rest of us laugh. I glance over at Emilia and note the way her cheeks redden. She takes a sip of her wine giving me a small smile as Eleanor seems confused by everyone laughing. 

"What's funny? I want a sibling. Daddy has Uncle Sam and I want a sibling too."

Her brows furrow, her blue eyes glancing over at all of us in outrage.

"Bug,"

I start, trying hard not to laugh and upset her further.

"Having a sibling is a big responsibility."

Her eyes widened at me, her face still wearing that same look of determination. 

"Daddy, I am reponsible." 

Her mispronunciation only makes the look on her face that much sweeter. She's pleading with me as if it's my decision to make. I smile at her, noting the way everyone else looks at her. 

"Bug, you have to talk to your mom too. She's the one that has to carry the new baby."

Emilia shoots me a playful look, her cheeks still red. As if it's some sort of secret to everyone in the room how we ended up with Eleanor in the first place. I thought it was cute, the way my wife's face would look around so innocently, when I knew better than anyone that she was the furthest thing from innocent. My mind briefly wanders to Emilia and I's interaction in the office just now. The fact that her lips alone could send me over the edge. She seems to read my mind because her face only gets more bashful. 

"Mama..."

Eleanor starts, her attention to her mother. Emilia shakes her head and smiles widely, clearly not up for this conversation now. 

"Bug, we are going to have to talk about this later. It's a big decision. Daddy and I have to talk about it and see when we're ready."

Eleanor looks down in defeat, clearly unhappy with how this conversation has gone. She gives us both a pout as she sits back down and returns to eating. 

"Do you promise to talk about it?"

She asks, shoving a noodle into her mouth. Beside me, Emilia nods, giving Eleanor a look of sympathy. I knew my wife hated to ever let Eleanor down. From the opposite end of the table I hear Corey mumble a faint; 

"Sure, they'll 'talk' about it later."

The dual meaning to his words doesn't go unnoticed by Emilia who's face reddens once more. She playfully shoots him a look that makes him smile with his hands up in defense. Thankfully the conversation keeps moving because I think another moment of it would send Emilia over the edge. Her face is bashful as she looks at me. There was something about how innocent she looked that always made me want to corrupt her. Not in a harmful way, but sexually it turned me on. The moment the thought enters my head, I lean over to whisper in her ear, just quiet enough for only her to hear. 

"Don't act bashful baby, not when you had your mouth wrapped around my cock seven hours ago."

I can practically hear her heart skip a beat as I kiss the side of her head before pulling back. I returned to my meal without giving her a second glance. I can see her out of the corner of my eye trying to compose her sweet, beautiful, face. From across the table Corey shakes his head at me, smiling wide because he knows I was giving my wife a hard time. She sighs before resuming her conversation with Johnnie, doing her best to ignore all of the embarrassment she's been made to feel. The momentary lightness of conversation helped me feel slight ease, but with the other conversations resuming I can feel the dread bubbling up inside of me. Dread that only worsens as Sam decides to continue our conversation. 

"Colby, we've gotten through some really tough times. We just have to keep going. If we give up or let them get to us we let them win."

Sam's words of encouragement should make me feel better, but they don't.  Instead, I can't help but wonder if this was how things went with our parents. Did they start off playing the game only to let the money and power go to their heads? Had they once been people who wanted to do better, but shifted into something toxic along the way? I think about the men from the board, the man who ordered a hit on his own child. Was he always like this or had there been a time when he was a better person? Would I end up like them? Looking at Eleanor I know that I would never do anything to hurt her, but what if I changed the longer I was in this position of power? I glance over at Sam and sigh.

"I just don't want to become one of them. I like the  money and stability, but I don't want to turn into some awful human being who's willing to harm the people they care about to maintain that power. That's what happened to her tonight. She and I made a choice to film something intimate and she was going to expose that. So her own father protected me and our image over his own daughter. It's messed up."

Around me the room gets quieter, my voice getting louder without me realizing it. The boys looked at me with an understanding because they'd known Shea and they were aware of what the board had chosen before I'd been informed. That's the way that I wanted it to be, I figured it would be better to have information filtered down through others. I figured maybe the situation would be so far removed from me that it wouldn't hurt as badly, but I'd been wrong. This loss hurt because it didn't need to happen. We could've gotten all of the copies of the tape and made sure it never saw the light of day. No one had to be hurt to do it. 

"I know this is hard, but you're already doing this differently from mom and dad. You're not like them." 

Sam whispers, suddenly uncomfortable as everyone looks at us. I'm acutely aware of my wife's gaze and her own discomfort around raised voices. She never seemed aware of the fact that she always seemed to cower when people yelled, but it was something I noticed all too well from the moment we met. She opens her mouth to say something when the sound of our doorbell combs through the silence. Every other weekend Emilia's dad would take Eleanor for 'gampa' time. It was a special opportunity for our daughter to spend time with her grandpa, as he was her only surviving grandparent at this point. From beside me, Emilia stands up and excuses herself. Gesturing for Eleanor to follow her, my baby stopped to give me a kiss on the cheek before following her mother. From down the hall I hear Emilia hand her father Eleanor's overnight bag and the small sound of her voice shouting “Gampa” excitedly. I look at the guys and sigh, with Emilia out of the room I could talk business for a moment. We had more addictive medications that we needed to get out, our suppliers were running out and our buyers were going to revolt if we took too long to get it out. 

"We have five shipments going out this week. Make sure they get where they're supposed to go. We can't leave them hanging a moment longer, after dinner I need you all to hit the road."

I hated pushing pills, I hated being a CEO of a pharmaceutical company and dishing out pills to people who would get hooked and dish out millions of dollars for our benefit. But I'd seen what the board could do and I wasn't about to give them any reason to harm my family, even if they were okay with harming one of theirs. Five sets of eyes stare back at me, each person mulling over what I've said and nodding. They knew what had to be done and they'd do it without any questions. 

"Emilia and I also have a Gala next Friday night. I'm going to need you all there. We might need to up security because I want to use the Gala as a rendezvous for the next shipment." 

I wait for them to nod in understanding, but am unable to say another word when Emilia re-joins the table. She looks confused as to why we're all sitting in silence, but doesn't say anything about it. Instead, she gives me a small smile before reaching for her wine and taking a sip. She suddenly looks exhausted, but I know it's only because the moment Eleanor leaves, she's finally allowed to rest for a moment. I didn't know how she did it, all the cooking and keeping up with our daughter without breaking a sweat.

"I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you all were quietly talking about from the door..."

She starts giving me a look that tells me she heard more than I intended her to. 

"... But you should know Colby-Kins that sound travels in this house. You need to find another place to set up a rendezvous for our shipment. Our planned charity event isn't the time or place to be pushing your pills. We are there for mental health awareness, not pushing our addictive company pills."

The air in the room seems to be sucked out and all of us sit in silence as we watch Emilia downs her glass of wine before she reaches for mine and downs it. There had been many times throughout my marriage where I had tried to keep Emilia out of things. I tried to keep her in the dark, but she always found a way in. She deserved to be included and to have her spot at the table. 

"Not to be weird, but I can see why you guys go at it the way you do. That was single handedly the most sexy and intimidating thing I've ever witnessed." 

Nate says the words, his eyes wide as he looks between me and my wife. Seeming to see how our gazes are locked and unwilling to budge on what we believe is right. The sexual tension that inevitably builds up whenever she calls me on my shit. Emilia shoots him a grin and blows him a kiss, before looking at me, her intent unyielding as she rasps; 

"So why don't we plan this together? Start from the top boss."

-

I'm putting the dishes into our dishwasher, hours later when I spot my wife in the backyard sporting her swimsuit cover, her bare feet padding over the cobblestone that surrounds our hot tub. It had been a Christmas present from me to her when she mentioned always wanting one. I watch her use one hand to take off the cover of the hot tub while her other hand grasps her new glass of wine. She giggles to herself as she wrestles the cover off successfully. I see her mouth a 'woo' as she steps inside of it. I want to join her but I'm made aware that I'm still not alone as Jake hands me the last of the dishes. He'd wanted to clean up after our impromptu meeting after dinner. 

"You know, she's good Colby. You should include her in more business talks. She knows her shit."

I hated to think of including her in our business because I wanted to protect her. 

"Jake, I've been trying to keep her out of it to protect her and Eleanor."

He nods, absentmindedly reaching for the aluminum foil so he can wrap up the leftover Lasagna. I can tell that he's thinking of what to say next, that he doesn't want to risk offending me in any way. 

"I get that, but sometimes not telling someone something is just as dangerous. Emilia can handle herself but she can handle herself better if you include her. She's part of your family and I know it would mean a lot to her if you included her. She loves you Colby. You don't see how she looks at you and you don't hear about how she talks about you when you're not around. She just wants to make you happy and I think she truly believes she won't until she's able to make every aspect of your life better." 

My brow furrows when he says this. I hadn't ever thought of what she said about me when I wasn't around and I hadn't ever thought about how dangerous it was to keep her in the dark. I never wanted her to believe that she didn't make me feel as happy and content as she does. 

"She makes me happier than I could've ever imagined Jake. I didn't believe someone like me deserved that. I still don't sometimes." 

I hear the sigh leave Jake's body, his hand outstretched to give me a firm pat on the back. I'd known Jake since we were teenagers and he knew all the shit I'd been through with my parents. The toxic cycle of our job and what it did to me mentally. I tried to play a specific role when it came to handling my business. I tried to act tough and untouchable, but I didn't always feel that way. Sometimes my mind went to dark places, sad places that I wished I could pretend away, but I couldn't. Slowly, I glance over at my friend and take a deep breath. He's finished putting away the leftovers and I've filled the dishwasher, suddenly the weight of the day feels too heavy to bear. 

"You should head out, I'm going to make sure she doesn't drink too much wine and pass out in the hot tub." 

I laugh, gesturing over my shoulder to where my wife has now settled into the hot tub nicely. Her wine is still in her hands as she rests her head back and stares up at the stars. She looks peaceful, but I know her mind is probably going a million miles a minute. Emilia internalized a lot of her thoughts, sometimes I felt like I could see her carefully choosing her words. Always cautious of what to say next. Jake nods, giving me a look of understanding. 

"Goodnight Boss. I'll lock the door on my way out." 

I give him a faint smile before putting a washing pod into the dishwasher and starting it. I wait to hear the door lock behind him before I decide to join Emilia. She's so inside of her own head that she doesn't hear when I've opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the back porch. She doesn't even notice when I take a few steps across the cherry wood surface to meet her. We'd had the porch built around the hot tub, so it was nice and close to the house. I waited for a moment, my eyes taking her in, before I reached out to lightly touch her head. A faint 'hmm' passes her lips as she glances over at me, her eyes tired. 

"Hey Colby-bear. Join me in the hot tub."

She sounds tired, but the smile on her face makes it impossible for me to even consider not meeting her request. I nod, taking off my watch and my clothes and placing them on the outdoor patio furniture. Her smile grows once I'm fully naked and I sink my body into the one hundred degree water with her. At first I sit across from her, but she reaches for me, guiding me to sit next to her. She places her head on my shoulder and sighs. 

"If you look up directly in front of us you can see the big dipper."

My eyes move to meet the general direction she's pointing in and realize she's right. It was the big dipper. Mentally, I wonder when was the last time I looked up at the sky. When was the last time I took the time to look at my surroundings. I glance down at her and feel my heartbeat quicken as I study her. She looks so peaceful and beautiful in the moonlight. She's so perfect and she's all mine. 

"You're beautiful Emilia..."

I whisper giving the top of her head a kiss. She blushes at the compliment, nuzzling her head into the crook of my neck. 

"... I'm so in love with you that I feel like I'm going to burst."  

At this she lifts her head momentarily, her gaze connecting with mine. She looks a bit suspicious as to why I'm complimenting her, but I can't help it. She's everything to me and sometimes I couldn't keep it in. Sometimes I had to say something because I knew how lucky I was. 

"Are you trying to butter me up? Because Bug wants a sibling?"

I laugh, remembering our daughter's demands at dinner time. I would be lying if I said I wasn't thinking of giving her what she wanted, but I also knew that Emilia and I were busier than ever before. We'd be even busier if I did as Jake suggested and had Emilia join in on our business. There was so much more that I was doing behind the scenes than she even knew. Telling her everything and involving her would be a lot, but if anyone could handle it, it was her. 

"As tempting as that is Emilia. I'm just saying it because that's how I feel at this moment. I love you and I know I need to tell you that more often. You, and our Bug, mean the world to me. I think about it all of the time, but I can't keep internalizing it." 

She takes a minute to process what I've said, her face kind as she contemplates how what I've said makes her feel. 

"Thank you for saying all of that. Sometimes I think about how things had been the night we met. I never would've guessed that things would end up the way that they have. I love you more than I could've imagined." 

I'd be lying if I said that I hadn't thought about the first night we met too. I thought about it often, the way I felt when I'd heard the news from my parents. They never gave me a choice, just informed me that I was getting married in 24 hours with a script to follow. I'd been so angry that I was forced to do another business transaction for my family. Another chip away at my soul without a say in the matter. It took everything in me to not flip out, to show up and do as I've been told. I remember how pissed I'd been walking into the church, standing at the end of the aisle, waiting to meet my fate. But I also remembered the moment she was standing before me, the moment she looked up at me through a fake look of excitement, fear in her eyes. I remembered being such an asshole and thinking about how hot she looked and how I couldn't wait to fuck her. That at least she was a pretty punishment. It wasn't until she kissed me on our wedding night that I felt the traces of bitterness leave me. I could feel it then, that same feeling that I feel now, utterly hers. 

"I am just happy you're my forever..."

The words come out so quietly they're almost silent. If I hadn't been the one moving my lips I wouldn't have believed I'd actually said the words, but she heard me. Her green eyes tear up, her gaze studying mine. 

"... I want you to work with me and the boys. I want you to know everything we have planned and when we're planning it."

I place my hands on either side of her face when I say this, my damp fingertips light along her skin. The more I thought about how much she meant to me the more I realized that Jake had been right. Emilia was a part of all aspects of this life she married into and it was wrong to keep her in the dark. Her lips pull together into a small smile. 

"As long as you pay me in kisses, I'll do whatever you want." 

Her voice is suggestive as she leans forward to press her lips to mine. She wastes no time deepening the kiss, her touch intoxicating. The moment she touches me I wish that I would've offered her the position sooner. The sensation of her lips on mine instantly made me want more of her. Cautiously I reach for her wine glass and place it on the patio table. Once the wine glass is out of her grasp, she moves her manicured hands to my hair, entwining them. Somewhere in the shuffle of kisses she moves her bikini clad body to straddle mine in the water. 

"I'll give you as many kisses as you want. I'll give you everything I have."

I growl the words against her lips, my hands holding her in place. She lets out a breathy whimper at my words, her chest flush against mine. I can feel the tension building between the two of us, each breath more erratic than the last. She felt so good against me, but before we can take things any further she breaks the kiss. She peers up at me and tries to steady her breathing. 

"Can we go inside and finish this?..."

She asks, suddenly bashful. 

"... I don't want to violate the family hot tub. Everyone uses this when they come over."

I can't hold in the laugh that bubbles up inside of me when she says this. The sweet look that she gives me, mixed with the dark look of desire that flickers in her eyes.

With my hands still on her face, I nod. We look at each other so deeply, so lovingly that it almost feels like a dream of sorts. 

"Wherever you want to go, I will follow..."

I pause as she studies me, a smile on her lips. 

"... And it will be that way for the rest of my life. You and bug are my girls. You're my everything."

I speak so tenderly that I almost can't believe it's me who is speaking. The man I'd been when I first met my wife couldn't have imagined that I'd ever feel this way, let alone be able to voice it out loud. She leans forward and presses her lips to mine once more, giving me a soft tender kiss. She breathes me in as she does, her arms and legs wrapping around me in the hot tub. Slowly I pull us out of the hot tub, our bodies remaining locked together as we continue to kiss. I don't bother covering the tub up as I walk us inside, our bodies still dripping wet when we enter our kitchen through the sliding glass door.  

Once we are safely tucked inside and I've locked the door behind us, a small gasp escapes Emilia's lips. As if she'd been trying to not make a sound outside. Knowing full well that her father's house was less than a five minute walk behind our own house. 

"I love you."

She rasps, her voice breathy and uneven. I move my fingers to the back of her bikini top, unlacing it before reaching around to grab the fabric and drop it on the kitchen floor. I mentally make a note of where I've dropped it and to pick it up again when we finished. There's a comfort I feel whenever her skin is flush against mine. A warmth unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

"I love you too."

I whisper through sloppier kisses, deepening with each step forward that I take. One step closer to our bedroom. I waste no time weaving through the maze of hallways and doorways, my mind focused on one thing. 

Her. 

She grinds herself against me, needy for more. I can't help but wish I was buried inside of her, but I know that I have a few more steps to take before I reach our bedroom. So I focus on moving forward, each step bringing me closer to where I needed her the most. 

Once I reach our bedroom, I lay her on the bed. I feel feverish as I reach to pull her bikini bottoms off of her body, the fabic in a small ball as I toss it to the side on the floor. I waste no time getting on top of her and sliding my hardened cock into her. I bottom out and for a moment I don’t move. I wait there, feel her slick tight walls around me and I enjoy the feeling. She leans up, her lips going against mine as she feels how full I’ve made her. Her tongue meets mine when she deepens the kiss, soft groans of desperation fall from her lips. She needs me to move inside of her and she’s getting impaitient. I can’t help the smirk that plays on my lips. Who was I to keep her waiting? So I don’t. I thrust inside of her deep and hard, without apology. And after that I don’t think, I just focus on worshiping her body and remembering that she’s my whole my world. 

That, as long as I have her, I can get through anything this life throws at us.

[grison-in-space]

Hi! I've just stumbled onto the dogblr side of Tumblr and it seems fascinating. Could you recommend any fundamental reading/watching material for people who want to start learning about dog training/behaviour/cognition? It would also be cool to hear about how you, personally, got into it if you're okay sharing- it seems like a niche field and I'm curious about what the journey might look like for different people. Thanks! ^.^

Oh, sure! Bear in mind that my particular path is, um, actually much weirder than most folks': the dog training with clients is a very new (and very part time) development in my professional life. In my full time job, I'm a postdoctoral associate in neuroscience working on motivation and decision-making in the context of animal behavior. And even for that, my career path has been bizarre: I started out in population genetics, did the PhD in behavioral ecology with a side of metabolic neuroendocrinology, and have now wound up in a NIH-oriented lab focusing on topics related to sex differences, neurodivergence and addiction.

It just occured to me that the dog training thing puts me squarely on the grounds of applied animal behavior research, which means that I've done it! I've poked into all the disciplines that can be described as Animal Behaviour and collected all the achievements! I really gotta reinvest in the Animal Behavior meeting, huh. Oh, wait, no: I'm forgetting behavior genetics, which is an area of strong interest I've poked around the edges of but never myself published in.

See, animal behavior as a formal study contains at least four different disciplines of study that really only loosely interact with one another. Behavioral ecology often appears in concert within ecology and evolution, and it focuses on the study of animals within their own natural context according to their own concerns and experiences. Neuroscience is typically thinking in terms of understanding the mechanism of the human brain, and behaviorism is similarly trained on the universal mechanisms of learning and behavior. Applied animal behavior involves studying how to most effectively, safely, and ethically manage animals in human care, including both domestic animals and captive wild ones; it also covers finding out how to teach animals to do complex but useful behaviors, like training working animals. Neuroendocrinology involves studying how hormones effect changes in the brain and body: metabolic hormones, stress hormones, sex hormones, the works. Behavior genetics (and epigenetics) include studying the effects of genetic variation on behavior itself.

It's certainly not uncommon for people to jump fields once or twice, or to straddle an intersection of approaches over their careers. It's.... less usual to bounce around one's career to quite this extent, which I attribute to the fact that a) I have quite a bit of fairly obvious ADHD, b) I've never worked for anyone who hasn't had their own case bedeviling our focus, and c) I graduated directly into COVID, which meant that I had to figure out a solution on the fly when all the positions I had intended to cultivate dried up overnight.

Not that I'm bitter.

As for how I got into the dog training gig, essentially I like dog training, I really like this outfit, and I have some credit card debt I would really like to pay down. I wanted to meet and talk to more dog folks in the area and I also really missed teaching—I taught every spring and fall through my 8yr PhD, I'm good at it, and I really enjoy it. Since I've respected (almost) every instructor I've had through this outfit, and the one exception involved being listened to immediately about my concerns and increased supervision in response, and I knew that one of my instructors worked part time with them, I figured it might be a neat side gig. So far, that's been bourne out.

I also do have some longer term plans to do some behavioral genetics and neuroscience work on dogs, and I would like to incorporate some noninvasive experiments that use dogs from the general public. My facility also has a robust doggy daycare program and it'd be rad to work with them to build opportunities for everyone in a few years. I'm hoping to leverage a permanent tenure track job at my institution over it, but I might go in several directions from here. Predicting the direction of my career has been a losing proposition so far, so let's see what seems good at the time and stick around as long as I'm having fun.

As for how I got into dogs and dog behavior specifically? In addition to the ADHD, I'm autistic enough to have been diagnosed as a tween girl in the 00s, and my special interests never quite leave —they just flare up and simmer down in long periods over my life. Dogs are the first and earliest of these; my parents told me that they'd seen me gravitating towards the family Lhasa from pretty much the moment I could roll over on my belly. That seems about right. Dogs have been my gateway to huge corridors of my intellectual world, and dog training specifically have been a hobby for some time. In addition to my training gig, I'm experimenting with functional service tasks to support me as burnout and neurodivergence have limited my capacity.

Books and reading recs I'll try to get to later, mm falling asleep right now.

[looosey]

Tech and the City

Long time no write. To get you onboarded: this summer, I've been code-monkeying as a software engineer intern at the AI music startup I wrote about earlier in my posts. This past month has looked pretty routine: show up before 10 and leave after 5, code-code-code. But on Thursday and Friday, I pushed the backend and frontend of my feature into the product for the first time!! My hands were cold, and I sat right next to the senior engineer, reading my Github "Files Changed" tab over and over again, nervous as heck about my manual merge, and I clicked Merge... Screams of joy in my head!!

I realized recently, I want a return offer to this job, because... I enjoy it.

For the first time in my life, I've enjoyed my job itself. I like the focus it requires, the challenge to engineer and design and clean and improve, the mentorship I get from brilliant engineers around me. The pace of it, as a startup. The tight-knit, rapidly growing team. So I'm greedy to be a part of it for a bit longer.

This got me thinking though, about what it takes to be at the caliber of coding that would guarantee me any position I wanted. It was as if I was back at college applications, wondering if I should become a spikier applicant and put in hours and hours into programming, to become an undeniable pick. Spikiness... an athlete's dedication to her sport... an artist's whole investment into their craft... is brilliance and I deeply admire it in other people and find it a pleasure to be surrounded by people who dedicate their lives to one thing.

For example, there are my friends who dedicate their college lives to becoming better freestyle or choreography dancers. There is my professor who dedicates his entire day to perfecting the craft of rap. There is my co-intern who spent 8 hours a day after school coding his own personal projects all throughout high school.

And then there is me, who cannot make a decision between her interests in engineering, dance, music, and content. For this summer, I have adopted the mindset of not forcing any of my "hobbies:" to do something only as much as I enjoy it. Is it possible for this to still be a satisfying life?

After Friday 10 a.m. standup (i.e. tech companies typically have these short, regularly-scheduled meetings, where team will update each other on what they're working on), I was waffling around the corporate watering hole (i.e. the coffee machine) when another coworker stopped by and helped me use the terrifyingly complex Xbloom. After a bit of talking about our favorite roast, I found out she was extremely interested in coffee, so much so that she was writing a book! This girl can code, play piano, make coffee, design/draw, and write?? And with the drive needed to write her own book?

This interaction reminded me of my Software Design professor, who told me to go write a book: it's very fun and surprisingly easy to self-publish. He was very good at programming. And also teaching and also photography..

Which makes me think there is another model of brilliance that is not as obvious. A world where it's possible to achieve satisfying qualities in different areas of interest. Fueled by the belief that as long as you are true to yourself: because you as a body of cells and celestial dust exists, a narrative of your interests too can be summarized.

I think, I'm going to schedule Thursdays of every week to think about this a little more.

Anyways it's 1:30 a.m. and I need to be at work at 9 tomorrow. Good night!!

[queenpinesofdomino]

Here’s my theory on this.

Metatron had an argument with angel Crowley before he fell, I feel like angel Crowley actually got to speak with God themselves. That’s why Met doesn’t like him. Now i'm a firm Raphael/ Crowley believer here’s why.

He was “in the meeting room” when they created earth as seen at the gravity and weather comments

He remembers Metatron and has spoke to him

As we seen first episode he made the stars and the universe (big project if you ask me)

Arch-traitor (pretty on the nose)

I think he can “dim” himself as seen when he passed next to Michael and Uriel without understanding him OR he can lighten his aura (farfetched yes but they did mentioned gray shades)

He can recognize lower level angels as seen with Muriel

And the obvious one he, at some point had clearance on classified documents made "for Thrones or Dominios and Higher" 

Now I think that, Heaven can't actually replace an Archangel with anybody, BUT because Michael is a little power hungry Metatron (and maybe God) is trying to bring Raphael back to take the leading position. I think if Crowley went with them Aziraphale would have been cast aside or made Crowley’s assistant or smth.

Of course that could be Gods idea (cuz they’re all forgiving and all) or maybe they are having another bet with Satan. That’s why they showed us the Job sub-plot only this time they want to see what an angel and a demon would do.

 I also feel that Metatron, as a being, wants to lure Crowley in Heaven to punish him somehow I don’t know. Because think about it, he could put Aziraphale on Gabe’s position and ask Crowley to become a Duke that way they could still talk and work together like before but instead he manipulates Aziraphale by making the deal based on Crowley's "redemption".

Crowley fell because he was questioning the status quo. He saw how shitty Heaven was the moment they took down his stars. Then his decision kept being verifying by every step of “ the Great Plan”

That was what he was trying to teach Aziraphale. Whenever he was making him question the Great Plan and Heaven he was trying to make him see how fuck up they are. He himself was already questioning Hell already bc he had learned to question Heaven. That’s why he didn’t take anything seriously other than the End of the world.

He doesn’t want Aziraphale to fall tho cuz he knows he’s good. He never tried to tempt him into becoming a demon. He just wants him to see that they can be on the neutral side together.

I feel that Aziraphale kinda understood that after the finale of the 1st season. But now Metatron comes and tells him to become the boss so he thinks that he’s gonna change the way things are when CLEARLY Heaven wants a puppet to execute orders and also Aziraphale conveniently has experience in the Human world so they think that that is going to give them a head start for the next war.

Crowley clearly knows that but Aziraphale believes that by becoming the boss he can make a diffrence. I mean he could if it was up to him but it's not.

[if only I was this dedicated about my real life thesis]

[yergink]

So while I don't see myself ever finishing this fic at this point, I still want to put some of it out there.

Here's some slightly disconnected scraps of my sci-fi fusion ofmd au (mostly inspired by Lethal Company) all consolidated in one place, in case there was interest.

Corporate billed their scavenging positions as an opportunity to enjoy peace and quiet out in the lost frontier of space. Ed couldn’t help but fucking laugh any time he saw one of those pamphlets, because that description couldn’t be farther from reality. 

---

“Q17, eh? You don't see these models in circulation much anymore, what a beauty. You must take good care of her.”

Ed crossed his arms. “Yeah. I make do.”

The man’s grin twitched. “Oh, sorry!” He held out a black-gloved hand. “Stede Bonnet.”

Oddly fucking chipper for a flight inspector. Ed took his hand in a firm, but curt, shake. “Ed Teach.”

---

“I used to fly, but only recreationally.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. There’s no real piloting required on our end, it’s all automated. You just plug in routes, and the ship takes you there.“

Stede frowned. “Well, that sort of takes all the fun out of it.”

Ed blinked at the bluntness of his statement. “Yeah. Yeah, it does," he agreed.

---

“I can’t figure it out,” Ed said into the dark. 

The ship’s whiny fucking air filtration system kept whirring, refusing to allow any silence to follow his words. 

He could hear Stede shuffling in the bunk above him. “Figure what out?” he asked, after a moment. 

They were separated only by a slightly sagging metal panel and one ridiculously thin mattress. Ed’s nose was practically pressed to the underside of the upper bunk. 

It felt like too little distance, in honesty, but somehow, it made him feel less guilty to pry when they were like this. While he didn’t have to meet Stede’s eyes.

“What it is you’re running from,” Ed answered. 

He heard more rustling, and suddenly Stede’s head popped into view, over the side of the opening. He’d moved abruptly enough for Ed to startle, which he did, clanging into his sleep cubby’s metal back wall with a barely repressed, “Fuck—”

“What makes you think I’m running from something?” Stede asked. 

In the dark, he couldn’t really make out what sort of expression Stede wore, and even then, Ed couldn’t hold his gaze. He watched the blinking light on the terminal monitor mounted to the opposite wall instead. “Dunno if you knew, but no one takes this sort of job when their life’s going well, mate. Every scrapper I’ve known’s been running from something.”

Stede hummed. “Every scrapper?”

“What I said.”

“Does that include you?”

Ed paused. The silhouette of Stede’s head cocked to one side. 

There hadn’t been any snark, or malice in his asking, Ed realized. Just genuine curiosity. 

When Ed didn’t answer right away, Stede continued softly, “The scavenger contracts last five years, but you’ve got logs dating back a lot longer.”

---

The factory was a goddamn maze of looping service corridors. Tentatively, and after some discussion, they decided to split up to cover more ground.

Ed was sitting on the ground unscrewing the door off a storage locker, one hand on the radio to guide Stede through the process of taking apart a winch crane he'd excitedly discovered, when the line went dead.

It wouldn’t be enough to cover it, to describe the feeling like being dunked in ice. Static buzzed suddenly from the speaker where there was once life and voice, and Ed may as well have been jettisoned into fucking space.

The task at hand evaporated. He was on his feet in an instant—flashlight, tools, all abandoned on the soot-stained ground.

“Stede,” he said into the transmitter.

No answer. Just more static.

Ed’s heart started fucking racing. The stupid alarm on his visor flashed an irritated red about it.

He'd started running before he realized it. Like that old shitty jukebox on the ship skipping a record forward, he was sprinting without having made the decision to be, absolutely fucking gunning it back up the metal grate stairs and over the creaking catwalk and into the tunnels where he’d seen Stede off.

The plastic ridges of the walkie groaned in protest from how hard Ed was squeezing it. He pressed the button to speak, managed to bite out between exerted breaths, “Stede, pick up the fucking radio, this isn’t a game.”

He meant for it to be angry, but in the end he just sounded scared.

---

“Ed! Hi!” He sounded…delighted. At ease. Like nothing was wrong, like Ed’s blood pressure wasn’t actively soaring on his account. “Sorry we got cut off. One of these pipes burst and I suppose the steam was thick enough to scatter the signal. It’s sorted now!”

“Sorted,” Ed echoed. “Steam pipe. Right.”

He could hear it, listening past his own pulse roaring like gunfire in his ears. The faintest hiss of steam as it flowed through the rusted pipes secured along the tunnel walls.

“Look,” Ed said. “You—stay where you are, alright? I’m gonna come find you. Stay there.”

When the walkie beeped again, there was a half-second of hesitation before Stede said, “Okay, yes, I hear you. Alright.”

Another beep, and a moment of air, like Stede had something more to say. Ed waited.

The line closed again, wordlessly.

So, fine. Safe to say Ed gave a shit. And really, that put it lightly.

[vixenninjaturtle]

VAMPIRIC LOVE Pt. 1

TMNT (2016) Raph x Fem Reader

Requested by: @ashleighclark98

You arrived at the State address of your new employer a couple hours earlier than expected. In doing so, gave you a chance to familiarize yourself of the general surroundings since you're going to be miles away from the nearby City. The job you've applied for was for a Personal Assistant / Estate Manager position. Basically you're going to be in charge of anything and everything that has to do with the business of your employer as well as taking care of his home. Your Parts the front door, your heart beating a million miles per minute, scared that if you didn't calm yourself down now you will pass out before you even got started. Taking a few slow deep breaths and feeling your nerves slowly but surely start to relax you reached out a hand to knock on the door.

However before you could the door suddenly opened and there you were met with A well-dressed sophisticated woman well into her early to mid-40s but otherwise still pretty young. She greeted you with a smile and welcome you in to the mansion.

"You must be y / n, it's so wonderful to meet you. You're early than expected but that just shows us we made the right decision in choosing you for this job. My name is Evelyn but you can call me Eve. You'll be taking over my position as Lord Raphael's personal assistant/ estate manager. Lord Raphael is the owner of this estate and you'll be meeting him momentarily. Follow me and I'll show you to your room."

Before you can say anything more, Evelyn started walking away and without wasting a minute longer you quickly followed her so you wouldn't lose her. While following Evelyn you couldn't help but admire the lovely Decor in Japanese art that embrace the estate walls. You really start to wonder what this Raphael guy is like, but by the looks of the art and decor so far you can tell he loves Japanese art. Or basically anything and everything that has to do with Japan.

'Wonder if this guy is from japan? Maybe I can ask him to teach me how to speak japanese. Or better yet, teach me Japanese martial arts that will be amazing.' You thought to yourself until Eve interrupted your train of thought.

"We're here... this will serve as your room as well as your office space." Evelyn said while opening the door.

You walked into the room to see not all but most of your belongings were there. Closets and drawers were filled with most of your clothes and shoes, a personal bathroom plus a desk with a laptop on the right side of the room in front of the window. To which you presumed was your office area.

"So to give you a rundown on your duties. You'll be taking on the role of Lord Raphael's assistant, cook, housekeeper and gardener. You'll be expected to be on call working from 8:00 a.m. to 5 p.m. each weekday and every third Saturday. Groceries arrive once a week, you'll be in charge of ordering them as well as putting them away when they arrive. Laundry is set up to be picked up and delivered once a week and there is a maid that comes in twice a week. Your job is to make sure she doesn't Snoop around where she doesn't belong and she does her job thoroughly. Lord Raphael likes to eat his dinner at precisely 8:00 p.m. and throughout you are in charge of handling the bills making sure there are no late payments. Finally Lord Raphael tends to have guests coming in and out of the house make sure you keep track and keep a record of who those guests are. Passwords for everything you need are in that handbook on your desk as well as an overview of Lord Raphael schedule. Do you have any questions?" Evelyn asked after explaining everything to you.

As you listen to Evelyn give you a list of all your duties you were basically in charge of handling you can almost feel your head spinning. You knew being a personal assistant was going to be a tough job. But never realized it will be this tough not to mention how there are a lot of responsibilities for one person to take care of.

"Well I do have one question what does this Raphael person do for business?" You asked while placing your luggage on the bed.

"It's 'Lord' Raphael and... it's best not to know what he does the less you know the better, and plus I don't even know what he does."

"But doesn't that defeat the whole purpose? I mean if I'm going to be working for this guy I have to at least know who I'm working for and what I'm possibly getting myself into." You firmly objected.

Before Evelyn could even reply back a deep growling voice spoke up from behind her startling the both of you, then turn to see a tall 6 feet humanoid turtle standing at the entrance of your bedroom door.

"Like what Evelyn just said it's best to not know my business what I do is none of your concern your only concern is to do your job."

"Oh, Lord Raphael, I apologize for the disturbance. This is y / n and she's going to be your new personal assistant and estate manager."

"I see... have you briefed her on her everyday duties and what is to be expected?" Raphael asked while taking a few more steps into the room.

"Y-yes sir, I've already explained everything she needs to know and will be in charge of doing." Evelyn replied bowing her head at him

"Very good you can go ahead and take your leave Evelyn. Thank you for your service and I wish you good luck on your future endeavors."

You continue to stare at Raph as he conversates with Eve. You did remember hearing rumors about a giant turtle living in a mansion in the mountains, but you had no idea that it was this mansion in particular and more importantly that you will be working for said turtle. While you were still trying to come to terms that you will be working for a 6 ft terrapin, his voice suddenly interrupted you.

"Now Ms. Y/n since Evelyn has gone over your duties, I expect nothing but perfection... anything less I won't tolerate. Now I have a guest coming at 4:30 p.m. you are to greet them and show them to my office. After which you are to prepare us refreshments."

"Wait wait, you want me to agree guests? How do you expect me to do that?" you asked folding your arms.

.........

"What do you mean how? You are to greet them. Bow your head like you saw Evelyn do when I came in the room, keep your eyes glued to the floor as a sign of respect and will not speak unless spoken to. Is that enough other explanation for ya?"

"Yeah yeah whatever... You sure you don't want me to kiss their boots or anything?" You joked with a smirk and chuckling.

Raph just rolled his eyes and sighed heavily at the ridiculous suggestion. "No I don't want you to kiss their boots, just a simple bow will do."

"Oh come on I was just joking, you really need to lighten up and loosen up a little."

"Well unfortunately for you that will not be happening anytime soon so don't hold yer breath."

"We'll see about that, one way or another you and I are going to be friends and you're going to like it."

Raphael just sighed again before walking out of the room but not before reminding you to be ready for his guest arrival. Once the door was closed and you were finally alone you smile before falling back onto the bed.

"Looks like being this guys a state manager won't be my only job." You said to yourself.

[littlehen]

so I had my last day in my old job!

I wasn't expecting anything, but actually my colleagues all signed a card and I got loads of hugs and they clubbed together to get me a nice leaving gift. I felt very surprised and touched. Lots of people said 'we'll miss you / don't be a stranger / gosh things are going to fall apart round here without you haha'. Also some colleagues gave me little gifts individually which all had text on that said 'believe in yourself' or 'be brave' or 'you forget how awesome you are - so here's a reminder!' so that's quite revealing about how I come across, lol

It's a bit weird, I'm not sad and I'm not excited/worried about the next thing, but that's more because emotions tend to take a while to creep up on me, I'll probably feel something next week.

the strange thing was when my boss gathered everyone round ('I'm going to embarrass you for a moment!') to give a little speech about how I'd be missed and thanking me for my hard work over the years, and I couldn't stop thinking, 'But I am leaving specifically because of you. If you'd said any of this over the past decade, anything positive at all, if you hadn't spent two hours non-stop criticising me in my last performance review (and blaming me for your mistakes!) then I wouldn't be moving on.' (Although I also kind of have to thank him, because I'd come to the conclusion that if he could manage a team then literally anyone could do it, so I might as well give it a go)

the loveliest thing was when I got a text from my young colleague who I've been sort of mentoring. She wished me luck and said 'I wanted to thank you for all the support and guidance you've given me,' which was so nice because she's only 18 and it was such a professional message and I just felt really proud of her, she's come so far. I've made a really conscious effort to be a supportive and encouraging team leader for her and all the youngsters.

Personally, I've had to put up with so many shit managers over the years, or be trained by dickheads who get annoyed if you ask questions or need something repeated, or constantly belittle you and then call it banter. (Not to mention, my first boss who regularly used to pat my bum, and he was still a more competent manager than the one I've just left.) And I was just like, 'but what if it doesn't have to be that way?' So I've always told the young ones not to be afraid to ask questions, and assured them that I fully expect them to forget parts of the training, that's totally normal and all part of learning, and I won't mind standing nearby while they do a process and being available to step in if they get stuck. etc etc. Things I wish anyone had said to me when I was starting out, instead of making me feel small and worried all the time. And also trusting them to make decisions and asking them what they think, praising them for good work and thanking them for hard work. Or if they get it wrong, explaining why it's wrong and how to get better, rather than just telling them off. (Just: doing the opposite of every interaction I've ever had with my boss, lol) And watching that approach work, and seeing the young ones gain confidence - that gave me the confidence to try applying for a promotion. So yeah, it was really great to get that text from her, it meant a lot to me.

I think what's going to be weird, and really hard, is my new work pattern, Monday to Friday, office hours. For 10 years I've always worked at weekends and my days off were random weekdays. I haven’t worked five days in a row with two days off, not for years. I haven’t had to deal with shops and supermarkets at busy weekends. I’m not used to worrying about sorting out work clothes and packed lunches for a five day stretch. And I have to be in the office every day by 8.15am, which is a scary prospect for a night owl insomniac. So I think that’s what I’m most apprehensive about, more than about how I’m going to get on in the job. oh, and meeting 45 new colleagues 😳 All change

[mohhesham95]

New Beginnings

At the end of every year, I like to sit down and think about what went wrong and what went right in it. I've been thinking a lot about the past two years. 2023 was such a difficult year for me, I went through a difficult breakup, and I wasn't feeling like myself at all. 2024 was much calmer on the emotional side, but it was more challenging career-wise. I finally got my master's degree, which I've been working so hard for, and it was one of, if not the main, goals for my year. I'm very happy about that as it's something that I have been looking forward to for a couple of years. On the other hand, I have been exposed to a very toxic work environment from a sick minded boss. I have been unfairly targeted, and I felt I am not getting the appreciation I deserved. This has put me in a difficult position, it felt like a crossroad moment for me. I need to make a decision that will shape the next few years of my life and maybe more. It's fairly a big decision, I'd say. Throughout my life, I've always made the 'safe' decision. Starting from high-school, uni and ending with my speciality decision. It was always the sensible yet safe decision. But for the first time in my life, I think I'm not choosing the 'safe' decision. It's still very sensible for me, but it's such an 'out of my comfort zone' decision. I decided to quit my job and apply for a PhD, in Cairo. That's such a huge decision for me because I have been living with my parents in Alexandria for my whole life. Moving my life to Cairo wouldn't be easy, but I feel comfortable with my decision. I think it's time to quit my comfort zone and do something different with my life. I want to broaden my exposure and circle, see new places, meet new people, and learn more things. I have been feeling that things are going stale at work for quite a while and since I have already earned my master's degree, there is nothing that logically binds me to the this newly formed toxic environment at all. Life is already difficult on its own, so there's no need to hang around toxic people when you don't have to do that. I feel like staying would be a huge waste of time and effort. I do believe in destiny and that everything happens for a reason, so maybe in a few years time, I'll look at a toxic boss as the reason that gave me the push I needed to actually have a leap of faith and get out of my comfort zone. There is no absolutes in life, so I'm not saying it's a right or wrong decision, but it will give me peace of mind, which I think is a valid enough reason. After a lot of thinking, I decided to leave my comfort zone and challenge myself to be more like the person I aspire to be. I wanna work on my body, my soul, and my mind. 2023 was heartbreaking and a huge learning curve, 2024 was the year of healing, and now I feel like myself again. Hopefully, 2025 is the year of new beginnings. Get moving and do what makes you happy. As much of a cliché as this sounds, but 'new year, new me'. I truly mean it, though. Bring on 2025, the year of new beginnings.

[whiskey-nips]

I guess I’ll pour some of myself out. 

There is a lot happening all at once and I let my brain and mouth fly with the wind. talking about my beliefs on parenting just flow out of me, like I’m guided by other beings. It’s been my whole world for three years, I take it very seriously and am passionate about raising my little hellions. It’s probably the reason I got offered a job at the Montessori school. I just went for a tour, they told me there were no more opening left for my children and no more asst. teacher positions, but they squeezed me and the kids in after having a 2 hour chat with the head of school. At times I do feel possessed when I talk about my indifference towards some of these methods shoved on mothers on social media. I feel distressed when I talk to other mothers who are very clearly helicopter parents, riddled with stress and anxiety. It’s very frustrating to be a new mother in society at this time where there is an overbearing business of “mommy influencers” ready to sell you something to make your parenting woes go away or to tell you that you don’t know best, you’re doing it all wrong and if you cough up the cash we will give you all the juicy secrets to taming toddlers. I used to buy into it, but I’ve grown out of it. Now I find myself not of the norm, because I have yet to meet other parents like me. My kids are not like other kids. We go to the library and it’s like their second home. they are comfortable, running around, pretending to be a myriad of creatures, putting on a show that consists of boundless energy. All the other kids seem well behaved. clinging to their mothers and family members, blank stares and mouths open. I get it that’s what these kind of public spaces are for. getting shy kids used to other children. Maybe my kids have never been shy. I don’t mind that my kids are doing their own thing. They are not destroying anything, they are playing independently, they are expressing themselves, they are not crying or screaming. even though their laughs are very loud. As far as I am concerned they are feeling confident and comfortable with themselves in this space. I’m not going to tell a 3 year old to sit still when there is clearly all this energy inside them that they need to get out. toddlers have no concept of Relax they relax when their bodies collapse. I know how other moms see me. I don’t control my children.

I feel like I can hear the other mothers gasping in my ears as my kids climb at the playground. they are rough, but they are also tough. And they are tough because I’ve given them the opportunity to make some dumb decisions, I’ve given them the opportunity to fail and even get hurt, but the encouragement to keep trying hard things and shake it off at extremely young ages. why? because they wanted to. They showed interest. They wanted to see if they could do the hard thing, they couldn’t and got hurt or were scared, but we kept trying. I try not to ever tell them that they are too little for this or that. Maybe sometimes I tell them we can practice that another day, but not today. Or that’s not for us right now. I’m not afraid for them. I know they are supposed to be in this world, they have what it takes to survive this seemingly worsening place, I’ll make sure that they have the tools and skills to do that, while also reminding them that I have unconditional love for every piece of them. every difficult, hard, conflicting part of themselves that they hate and struggle with. 

Am I embarrassed, yes a lot of times. My daughter is pretending to be a farting worm wiggling on the floor while everyone sings the ABC’s, but I’m not going to try to control every little thing she does. she’s sitting with the other kids, she stops to listen to the stories, she occasionally participates. I ask her if she wants to do something she says “no thank you” she tells the other shy kids what to do when playing games. she’s domineering, but at least she knows what she wants. I don’t want her to do things only to please me. I want her to be a leader, I want her to be comfortable in her own silly little self, even if it’s gross and strange to me. There will be plenty of time for the world to judge her and shame her for her quirks and interests, but I wont. This is extremely challenging to foster, because I want her to listen to me, I want her to have manners, I want her to behave to societies standards sometimes but I’m not mad or angry when she says no or protests. sometimes I have to carry her out of places, But I’d rather her be defiant than to go with the crowd. I am already so proud of the little person she is just at 3 years old. And she’s 3 years old, let her act that way from time to time. 

I hope I find community in Montessori. I like that the slogan is “freedom with boundaries” I like how the core principles focus around independence for children. I want my children to feel empowered. Children are the most vulnerable societal group on the earth and that vulnerability never leaves as we grow. it changes in different ways sometimes for better sometimes for worse. Society takes advantage of that vulnerability turns it into insecurities that they can profit from. I want my kids to know themselves, that they can do hard things, that they are enough, that they can be themselves and take pride in their individuality. I have hopes that they harness their boundless energy to create, inspire, help others, love and find purposeful meaning in their lives. there will be downfalls, heartache, failure, but there is this thing that keeps speaking in my ear as I wrangle these little goblins. As I struggle to keep composure and at the end of the day where I’m just at the end of my rope from all the mothering. “anything worthwhile is not easy. its very hard.” and that’s just the truth of life. The act of living is a Fight, and it is not easy, but there’s all this beautiful stuff that makes living worth it. little moments you hang on to that sustain you and end up fighting for. 

Death is easy. Living is hard, but Love is worth it.

Other parents look at my kids and tell me “wow that’s a lot of energy” but all I hear in my head is “wow look at all that potential”.

[om-gay]

I'd like to thank capitalism for all of this

and not to forget the two people who fucked me over to make it happen

When I started writing this post, I really had no idea where it was going, it turned out to be a cathartic unload of my situation. A lot of things are vague intentionally and I could easily rock that boat by pulling up receipts, but I'd rather not go back to that situation unless I have to. Read at your own peril.

I've not really written about the not-so-recent events that have given me a great amount of time to sit on my sofa calculating how long I can stretch 125g of rice for, since I don't really have the energy and I guess I'm spiralling down a hole of taking the opinions of people who I should not be giving free rent in my head to as truth.

Without going in to full details, I basically had a job I loved and the keyword here was had until I was lucky enough to get a manager who made every effort to make that worse. It wasn't just their inability to manage that was the problem, it was the fact that they did everything they possibly could to deflect their poor decisions on to everybody else and using manipulative methods like trying to convince you to agree to the stupid decision, so when it goes south, you're the one taking the blame.

Eventually we got to a point where I wasn't playing that game, so instead of being a capable manager they just ignored me and that was fine. I could do what I needed, be left out of everything, and not really any feedback in either direction. A true coward's way out.

I was then given another manager, who I had worked with before, had a good opinion of them and really did not expect the bullshit they'd pull on me a few months later.

I had been aware for sometime that the first manager wanted to push me out of the door, and it isn't the first time they had done that either. So when I was selected for a promotion I knew exactly what it was, a setup.

Because these two people weren't even remotely smart enough to setup what I was being asked to do, I knew once I had put everything in to a position that they could push me out and reap the rewards.

It is also worth mentioning that this new manager gave absolutely zero support or feedback either and when they pulled their hilariously poor constructive dismissal bullshit last year it was something I had already expected.

It started off with them interfering with my teams, telling them to do the opposite of my instructions which in the end started to burn me out from having to invest a lot of time cleaning up their mess. Then started the ambush meetings, where I'd be pulled in to a meeting with my team members giving me negative feedback (with this manager in the middle of this) that I was never aware of. Instead of letting them having the discussion with me directly, this person made them hold this for their ambush event.

Yet another mess to clear up for me, and I did very well considering.

This manager then decided to drop something almost too stupid I'm surprised the company humoured it, they pulled me in to a Friday afternoon no notice meeting and I was told at this point my job had already been given to the person I had just hired.

They had basically just sanctioned me without any kind of process or even any kind of feedback prior to this dumping of negative feedback without any follow up. Cool.

To say I was furious, was an understatement. While I did see some bullshit coming at me, I didn't see the level of absolute stupidity it could be in. I put down that little attempt quite swiftly, because it wasn't hard, its the kind of easy case an employment lawyer loves - receipts, the company taking the piss, and in front of a tribunal a hands down employer loses.

Even though it was a technical win, it wasn't, they had broken the trust between me and the company and at that point I had only one way to go - out of the door.

A month later I get an email trying to restart this action, but again, it was all nonsense. Trying to beat me with things I had come to them to raise the flag with solutions they refused without any reason, creating impossible targets, decisions they had changed at the last second after months of my work to make sure we were all on board, made up quotes from colleagues, and trying to apply rules they never followed or even had at minimum mentioned exists (this is a startup so it lacks a lot of processes and rules).

So I had to investigate each point, pull the receipts, and formulate a response. It took me a month to actually do that and it was a 10 page email after I cut responses to individual minor points. They were literally the most unserious clowns I had ever worked with and they really thought I was that stupid.

I had two options after that, sue the shit out of them, or take a rupture conventionelle. Because I really don't want to have to spend the next decade dealing with these clowns (if they manage to last that long) I went for the latter. The contract was done at the end of October and I was unexpectedly unemployed having to use the pay out to try and pay out big expenses as well as my rent before I joined the chômage. By the time I received my full payment from the chômage the payout was gone, mostly on rent.

Speaking of rent, what was before 1/3 of my salary is now 80% of my reduced income and covering the bills is a game of how late I can pay things or can I live on half a meal a day.

All of this because two clowns who have no self awareness of competence to behave like adults. They stole my job from me and took no serious thought of the negative effects their actions have to a person's life, especially in the middle of an economic crisis.

I should be fucking livid about this, but actually, I'm not. Sure my life is really fucking bad right now, my mental state is hit hard because unlike them I have spent months asking myself if I am capable of doing X job as well as being in a really dark place if I'm good enough. I have also met people at some of the courses I've been doing who are also in the same situation, but in their case they tend to be too close to retirement to get a bite and too far from retirement to be able to get out of it.

Back on the point - why I'm not angry - I, of course, get to hear what is happening at the old place and it really is as you'd expect when your capable employees flood out the door, poorly run, going from one disaster to another, and just a total shit show that I'm truly happy that I'm not in the middle of any more.

I might be taking the brunt of Macron's vicious changes to the support system we all pay for to get when we need it but at least I'm not an idiot who has to pay a consultant to do their job.

[fzzr]

The Second Circle

There's something oddly specific that always happens to me in online communities. Every few years since I was 14 I have ended up in a small online community of dozens to at most a few hundred active people. I get pretty intensely involved, interacting nearly daily, sometimes to distraction from my regular life, and then within months I end up in a semi-leadership position. Never high enough to be making really consequential decisions for the whole community, but always in a place where I can give input to the original small handful of people who started and still run the place.

The first time this happened was a BBCode role-playing forum where I became a super-moderator in less than a year. (This is also where #00BFFF became my favorite color.) I was 14 years old, but on the internet no one knows you're a dog. A lot happened there, such as a fellow moderator doing a laughably poor job trying to dox me and meeting my first girlfriend (she was also my age, I met her for the first time with both our parents there, chill). It was a somewhat toxic place in retrospect, but compared to the social networks of today it was nothing. In the end it was bought out by a Facebook-alike in an attempt to buy user count and became a ghost town. I would like to think that I did a pretty good job, only "abusing" my supermod powers for trolling against other mods who could fix the damage themselves rather than against regular users. It was fun.

Another time was a My Little Pony music community. Same basic story: I showed up nearly every day for hours at a time. One day the site crashed and the automoderator bot fell over, which left me and a couple other active users free to go crazy for hours until the actual admins woke up and put things back together. In a combination of exasperation and humor, they made me and the others who had been active at that time into moderators, since clearly we were the sort to be online when the founding inner circle were offline (they were mostly based in Australia) and really cared about the community in our own way. I didn't meet anyone in person this time, but I did spend a good few years there until the site became unstable, bled users, and finally shut down. We all moved to Discord but like the forum, without a binding agent almost everyone drifted back apart. I mostly stopped caring about MLP after that, and that's probably part of the reason why.

More recently I was playing around with custom tools for virtual tabletop RPGs (such as a character sheet for a particular homebrew game programmed with only underscore as a utility library, or a character sheet generator in React) and I got invited to help out with a brand new VTT. I thought I could help out with a little feature here or there, but I underestimated this time. They were under the impression that I was there to become one of that core group of founding members. I balked. I didn't know the tech and was mostly using it to learn. These were people who were working on it full time, but I had a full time job of my own and didn't expect to have the energy to contribute consistently. There were timelines. There were actual financial concerns. I skedaddled out of there and went dark. It scared me away from the tech in question just by association. I had other stuff going on that led me to abandon Slack and Discord for almost two years, which implicitly cut me off from any communication. I did eventually pop in long enough to explain what happened and why, and I am now gracefully retired and can poke my head in with no commitment any time I want.

So, what have I learned? Every time this happened I felt like a new character introduced at the start of season two. Things had happened before I got there which set the cultural context, but which I didn't have the full story on to understand why. Almost every time there had been some founding member who had left under acrimonious circumstances, and adding a second circle was helpful to the remaining founders to fill the hole that person left, or had become necessary to manage growth they never sought out or expected. There were in-jokes I wasn't in on, but we established new in-jokes and I was definitely in on those. When I joined there was a single digit percent of the community that were its founders who I looked up to. When it came to an end, I was one of that elite group, and others looked up to me. This experience was a form of imposter syndrome for me. "Why do you think I know how things work? I'm new here too!"

I saw how leaders of these sorts of communities act in semi-private, with the people who give input on and implement their decisions, but not what is said in the room where it happens. I saw a lot of frustration with people who show up with only mild interest in the original binding reason for the community, who end up being disruptive. I saw people at my same level abusing their power and how long it took to take action to stop them. I never saw the founders, the admins, actually do things wrong - but I did see them become overwhelmed with responsibility that grew on them out of nowhere.

So by staying in the Second Circle I get to contribute to the community but not feel trapped by responsibility to it. I think that suits me just fine.

[cevansbrat0007]

The Help

The Help Summary: A lovely new neighbor shows up with intentions on Andrew Barber. Too bad he’s already taken, and not by the fucking maid.

*Warnings: Smut (implied), Andy Barber, Angry Reader, Subtle Racism, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. This stems from things I’ve gone through, as automatically being assumed as “the help” in certain places, even though I don’t look even remotely like it. As always, I’d love your feedback, so please let me know what you think. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

___

It’s Saturday morning. You’ve got some music playing as you deep clean your kitchen. It’s part of how you grew up. Get up early on a Saturday and clean until noon, when Dad fell asleep. And then you could go do whatever you wanted. Old habits die hard.

Your boyfriend, Andy, was an early riser as well. So he was out working on something in the garage. And then he had agreed to come in and vacuum. You hated vacuuming with a passion, but you did it anyway.

You had a purple and pink, twilight colored scarf on your head and yellow rubber gloves on your hands. Along with an old t-shirt and faded black sweatpants. Perfect cleaning attire.

And then the doorbell rings. 

With a sigh, you scrub a tired hand over your brow and head towards the door. You hoped whoever was there would make it quick. You still had to clean the bathrooms, damn it. 

You answer the door, surprised to see a pretty, perky blonde on the other side.

“Hi!” She chirps with a cheery wave. 

“Hello.” You respond. You’d never seen this woman before, so it was anyone’s guess as to why she was here.

“I’m sorry to bother you.” She says, her grin just a little too…bright. “I can see that you’re working, honey.”

Okay… You cock your head to the side.

“It’s just, um, is this Andrew Barber’s residence?” She bounces a little on her feet. “I’m new to the neighborhood and am positively dying to meet him.”

Is that so?

“It is.” You tell her. It was also your home as well, and it had been for three months now.

“Wonderful!” She clutches her hand against her pearly pink blouse. “Could you please go get him for me? I promise I’ll tell him I’m the reason your job was interrupted. I’m sure he probably likes things done promptly.” She giggles.

You fold your arms over your chest. “And why exactly would I do that?”

She gives you a questioning look. “Like, I said…because I’ve been dying to meet him.” Perky blondie takes her time to enunciate every word. 

“Yeah, I got that part. But he’s busy. As am I.” You grumble. “So if you don’t have any real problems, I’m going to have to request that you leave.” Your hand reaches for the door, no longer in the mood to put up with this bullshit. Bitch assumed you were the help. 

She places her hand on the door to keep you from closing it. “Well, I don’t think you have the right to make that decision. Shouldn’t that come from your employer?”

“By the way, do you clean more houses around here, or just this one? I’m looking for a girl to help me out. I work long hours and it makes it hard for me to have enough time to pick up around the house.” 

You blink at her. A nice, long, slow blink.

“If you could stop by my place after you’re done here and give me an estimate, I’d really appreciate it.” She tells you.  “Oh, and do you do windows?”

No, but I throw bitches like you through ‘em. Does that count?

“I do windows here.” 

“Perfect!” She claps her hands. “How lucky am I to have found a cleaning service this fast?” 

You were ready to take off one of your rubber gloves and slap her with it.

“Now, if you could get Andy for me, that would be great.” She bites her thumb. “And do you happen to know if he’s single? I’m planning to ask him out for coffee.” The woman whispers conspiratorially. 

“He’s not.” You tell her, trying to rein in your urge to do her bodily harm. 

“Are you sure, honey?” She pouts.

“I am, but you can ask him if you want.” You try incredibly hard to disguise your snarl. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

She frowns at your caustic tone. “It’s Tiffany. And I’d appreciate it if you would. Thanks.”

“You stay right there.” You tell her, before spinning on your heel to go fetch your boyfriend from whatever he was destroying in the garage. 

“Andy!” You open the door to the garage. “There’s a lady here who would like to see you.” You give him your sweetest, most unhinged smile. 

Your Big Man suddenly looks worried. “Uh, what does she want?”

You shrug. “Oh, she just moved in down the block and would absolutely love to meet you. So she sent the help to come fetch you, honey boo.”

Oh fuck, here we go. Andy thinks to himself as he dries his hands and follows you back inside to the front door where that silly woman was still waiting. Patiently. 

“Hi, can I help you?” He asks, wincing slightly as he feels his girlfriend pinch his lower back. “Is there something you need?”

Yeah, buddy, she wants to get in your pants. Too bad they, along with what’s in them, belong to me.

“Hi, I’m Tiffany!” She holds out her hand by way of greeting. Something that she hadn’t extended to you, but alright. “I don’t know if your maid told you, but I just moved in down the street and I’ve been wanting to meet you for ages. I’d love to get to know you. Would you be interested in having coffee with me tomorrow?” She gives him what you assume is her most charming smile.

You were going to flick her in the eye. 

Andy clears his throat. “No, I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Oh?” She heaves out a disappointed sigh. “Your cleaning lady mentioned that you were seeing someone, but I hoped it wasn’t true. Is it serious?” She asks, hands on her hips.

“Very.” Andy responds, his tone short and clipped. He pulls you close to him and gives you a deep, wet, long kiss. 

“Sweetheart,” Your man pins her with a look. “My girlfriend is many, many things. But she’s not my cleaning lady, or my maid, or the fucking help. We both just like to clean on Saturday mornings so that we can spend all of Sunday lounging in bed. Naked.”

You smile at her then. And it’s not kind.

“Bye Trina.” You sing as you shut the door in her face.

“Love you, baby.” You coo as you pull him back down to meet his lips. “How about we pause our chores so this girl can fuck you properly, hm?”

“Yes ma’am.” He growls.

END

[clairecrive]

Hi could we please get a really angsty fic with nikolai (with a happy ending pls) where reader and he has had a fight so they maintain the facade on the outside bc they're royals but in private it's just ignoring each other/angst?

Young Royals

A/N: ahh, this is angsty alright but it seems I'm only capable of writing hurt/comfort lately. This took a life of its own and it's long af but I hope you like it anyway x

Warnings: miscommunication, angst, fighting, hurt/comfort, Nikolai is a bit absent, you're a bit jealous of his relationship with Zoya

Tags: @jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofsheilds , @for-bebbanburg , @randomoutsiders , @pansysgirlfriend , @hannaxmaria , @vintagebitc , @story-scribbler , @crowssixof , @odetostep,@lizzie-he4rts, @korol-lantsov, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @gallysonegoodlung, @a-c-lee, @mriddlemethis, @carnationworld,@thanossexual, @luvxginger, @sanna2020,@partiesandblurrypolaroids, @edithsvoice, @wafflesandschemingfaces (tag list form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

"Do not put words into my mouth, Nikolai."

"Please, you already have so many, my love," he scoffed and the use of the term of endearment hurt the most.

"You're making me sound like a brat while I'm providing you with a viable solution," you insisted with a flare of your hands, frustrated by his unwillingness to listen to you.

"No, you're not. What you're doing is being childish."

"I'm your queen, Nikolai. I'm only asking to be more involved."

"You're my wife, y/n, and you know nothing about politics or running a country." He retired, putting emphasis on wife. This felt a lot like being put into place. And the fact that it was your husband doing so, hurt. It was also the most you had seen him this week.

"Neither did Zoya, nor Genya or anyone who's currently running the country."

"That's different and you know it."

"Only because you're making it so," you exclaimed finally exploding. His despondency got on your nerves and this conversation was going nowhere anyway.

Surprised by your raise of voice, Nikolai stood before you just blinking at you.

Sighing, you took a step toward him, holding your hands up, "look, you're right, I don't know about running a country but teach me. I'm not stupid, I'll pick it up."

"Why are you insisting so much? You've never shown any interest in politics before." He gave you a puzzled look like he didn't really believe your intentions.

"I've never wanted to be queen before." before meeting you.

"Ah, I see," he chuckled mirthlessly, "I put you in this situation and now you're taking your revenge."

To insinuate that your marriage with him was you "being put into a situation" rather than a consensual decision you had made out of love was absurd.

Nikolai was right. You had never cared about politics or diplomacy before meeting him. You were a soldier. There was no reason for you to meddle with something that didn't concern you.

But now you were queen and you felt a responsibility towards your people. You wanted to help but so far, Nikolai hadn't allowed you to take part in any meetings. He said that anyone who needed to be there was already involved. What he didn't tell you was that while Grisha made excellent soldiers and even good councillors, one of them being a royal was a very different matter.

He had indulged his love for you by marrying you. You were his vice and he simply couldn't accept the idea of being without you anymore. He had married you, consequently making you queen, going against what his advisors told him.

While he ignored his warnings he was painfully aware, however, how difficult it was going to be for a Grisha on the throne. It was the first time something liked this had ever happened and unfortunately, the country was filled with people who resented Grisha for their powers.

Nikolai feared that the people were never going to accept you. Hence why he'd been keeping you secluded in the palace.

To be fair, you were doing a wonderful job. Like he had pointed out, you were not accustomed to politics but you made up for that with empathy and kindness. You started to interest yourself with the problem of poverty and lack of provisions for some parts of the country.

And while no one was aware of it, Nikolai often turned to you for military strategy. You were an apt soldier and had fought bravely alongside him and everyone else in the battle of the Fold. You were the very reason why he was still alive, to be honest.

While this arrangement worked for the first months of your reign, it was starting to feel an inadequate effort. You needed to do more, you wanted to do more. You didn't expect Nikolai to oppose it so vehemently.

"If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't be, Nikolai, you'd do well to remember it," you pointed out coldly, straightening your spine.

"Since you seem so adverse at spending time with me or including me in important matters, I'll find someone else who will." And with that, chin held high, you walked out of the room.

You missed him. It felt absurd to say this but you missed your husband. He was always busy with meetings or official visits to some noble across the country. For most of them, he went alone or with Zoya.

You knew that she was his first in command but you couldn't help but be bothered by it. It was one thing to accept the fact that he hadn't given the role to you "because the queen cannot have that role as well", it was a whole other thing to accept the fact that another woman spent more time with your husband than you did.

Countless were the fights you had with him in this regard. But they were pointless. Nikolai was still set on not bringing you and he and Zoya were always found together.

You didn't know what hurt more. The blow at your pride for being denied a position you deserved because of who you loved, the jealousy or being punished for your identity.

One thing was sure though, it was getting too much. At first, you pulled thought for Nikolai but now that you didn't have him anymore, your efforts seemed to be in vain.

So, like you had told Nikolai, you looked for someone who was willing to teach you. You wanted to help and if Nikolai wasn't going to let you here at the palace, then you'd find somewhere else.

Count Kirigin had always been nice to you and he was a very generous host. You knew that he played a central role in Nikolai's plan so you thought that there was no one better than him.

You reached out to him, wrote him a letter in which you showed interest in his activity and asked him if he was willing to show you. Of course, anything that came from the queen or the king couldn't be denied but you knew that the Count truly enjoyed your company. If your position didn't put so much higher than everybody else, you'd even consider him a friend.

You waited for his reply before putting in motion the preparations for your departure.

In the meantime, you and Nikolai kept conducting your separate lives. Usually, you'd only see him at night when he returned to your chambers if you were still up. Now, you had decided to sleep in separate rooms too.

If he wanted a wife, then a wife he'd get. But kings and queens do not sleep together.

If the new arrangement was bothering him, you didn't know. He hadn't reached out to you nor made any move to rectify your decision.

Turns out that he wasn't even at the Palace. He had left for a mission near the border with Shu Han and wouldn't be back for at least a week. Well, then. Of course, he didn't even bother with telling you. Not even a small note.

Jokes on him though, you thought, since when he was going to come back, he'd finally get what he wanted. You weren't going to be there to bother him anymore.

Differently from him though, you did indeed left him a note. Nikolai found it a week after you had set it on his pillow. Its presence made him furrow his eyebrows since he had already been wondering where you were. You usually came out to meet him at the gates whenever he'd come back from a mission and even though you had fought before he went away, you weren't one for holding grudges. So e guessed there was something holding you.

Unfolding the paper he was met with your familiar chaotic writing.

"I don't know when you're going to find this letter but if I'm not there yet it means that I'm still at Count Kirigin's. Do not bother with writing or visiting, I'll come back when my business with him is done.

Y/n"

What in the name of every sweet loving saint???

The letter wasn't dated, no dear, no yours no nothing. Fuck. You were still mad or worse, hurt.

Asking one of the servants, he learned that you had been away for a week already. But what business could you possibly have with the Count??

Nikolai had nothing against him. Seeing Kirigin get all flustered as he tried to flirt with Zoya amused him to no end but the idea of him and you in the same house? Alone?? Unacceptable.

Not even bothering to change clothes after his long journey, Nikolai headed to the stables to ask for a well-rested horse. Luckily, Count Kirigin's estate was not too far away. A couple of hours ride.

Turns out that the Count had a lot to teach. Despite his aloof reputation and extravagant clothes, he was very observant. He lacked ambition, which was why Nikolai trusted him and had a curious way of behaving in social situations.

But Emil had been born and raised in high society. He knew how things were run even if he had no desire to be in charge of them.

So far, you'd be having a wonderful time. Emil was a wonderful host, as you remembered, but without Nikolai's presence, he was even more extravagant. He had an unexpectedly dry sense of humour and a never-ending list of jokes.

Being in the open and in the company of someone who saw y/n instead of the Queen of Ravka proved to be even more needed than you thought. You felt reinvigorated and much lighter than you'd ever been.

You had also been learning a lot. Emil had been teaching you about diplomacy. About the best ways of formulating a sentence so that you wouldn't offend anyone but still get what you wanted. He had also been talking to you about your husband's ministers. About their weaknesses and vices and what was the best way to approach them to get what you wanted.

So far, it was proving to be a wonderful decision to come here.

Whenever your mind strayed on Nikolai, you willed it to focus on something else. You didn't know if he had already come home or seen the letter. A part of you thought that if he had, he would at least write one back. But the thought felt a lot like hope and seeing as how little he saw you even before you left, you didn't think it safe to harbour it.

When Nikolai reached the estate, he was met with Kirigin's servants. They welcomed him inside and profusely apologised for the Count's absence. They told him that at this time of the day, Kirigin and his guest would usually go out on a ride but that they were also about to return.

So Nikolai waited, sitting in the most comfortable chair the Count owned, fuming at the thought that his wife had felt the need to go away and be in the company of another man.

"If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be Nikolai. You'd do well to remember it."

Your words haunted him. They were the last thing that you told him. How stupid had he been to let you walk away. How utterly careless of him to disregard you like that.

He had promised himself to truly talk to you about it once this pressing matter of state was taken care of. Apparently, he had waited too long.

But Nikolai knew that the problem was at the source. He noticed how hurt you had been when he made Zoya his first in command. Or how sad you seemed everywhere he went somewhere with her and didn't ask you to join.

He was doing so to protect you from the inevitable slander you'd be met with. He should have known though that putting you aside was going to be even worse. You were a fighter just as much as Zoya was, if not stronger.

She hid behind her veil of indifference and superiority while you had never lost that emphatic verve that made everyone love you so much. In his attempt to make you safe, he had only managed to hurt you.

You were a warrior. You had accepted the role of queen only because it was the only way for you to be with Nikolai. And instead of praising you by making you a warrior queen, he had decided to hide you away.

Well, no more.

If his mistakes had not ruined everything already, he was going to make everything better.

Lost in his musing, he didn't hear the sound of hooves approaching but he did indeed hear your laugh. It immediately brought him back to the present and a wave of ugly jealousy hit him.

He couldn't remember the last time he made you laugh.

"I shouldn't even laugh Emil, the joke was terrible," Nikolai hear you giggling from somewhere in the hall. So now he was Emil, huh.

"You know you can't resist my charm, your highness," Emil replied and Nikolai had to call on every bit of his self-control to not barge out of the room and punch him.

"Stop it, you know you can call me y/n."

Before Emil could reply, they had both made it to the sitting room where Nikolai was waiting for them. It looked like no one had warned them of his presence because Kirigin looked surprised then utterly mortified.

"Your majesty, I wasn't aware you were here. Please forgive me for making you wait."

"Don't fret Kirigin, it was an impromptu visit. I came to see how my lovely wife was doing." No matter how green he was feeling right now, he knew that Kirigin was loyal to him and the crown. Whatever was happening here wasn't one of his schemes.

"Of course! I'm going to send for some tea while you two get reunited." Kirigin quickly bowed before hurrying out of the room.

Nikolai met your eyes for the first time since you had arrived. If at first, you were surprised to see him, now you couldn't help but be a bit sceptical about this visit.

"What are you doing here?" you asked breaking the ice.

"You leave with only a few lines on where you're going and you expect me to just accept it?" He scoffed, his hands curling on the armrests of the chair.

"It's more than what you gave me," you quipped, crossing your arms on your chest.

Nikolai sighed while his gloved hands run through his hair. You were right and he knew it. He had been a horrible husband lately.

"I know you're mad at me, honey, but listen-"

"I'm not mad. You didn't want to give me what I wanted so I went looking for it somewhere else." Scrolling your shoulders, you interrupted him without meeting his eyes. A list of excuses was not what you wanted nor what you needed from him.

Nikolai didn't miss the innuendo. His jaw clenched, his hands closed in fists. But he willed himself to stay calm.

"You think Kirigin can give you something that I can't?" Nikolai was a master in diplomacy. Never did he get frustrated or angry or raised his voice, even with the most aggravating people. Here though, with you, he didn't have to keep a façade. He spoke through his teeth barely containing his anger.

"Well, so far, he's been giving me attention and interesting pointers that no, Nikolai, you refused to give me."

"So this is how you solve your problems? Running away in the countryside with Emil?" Nikolai sneered, his tone souring around Kirigin's name.

"Don't you do the same with your precious first in command?" Tired after your ride with Emil, you plopped down on the chair in front of Nikolai's. Completely ignoring his tone, you pointed out calmly. The perfect image of aloofness even when it was the last thing you were in this moment.

"That's different," he snapped trying to meet your eyes that were carefully analyzing your hands.

"Yes," you signed, "it seems that when I'm concerned everything is different."

"There's nothing between me and Zoya, y/n and you know it." Nikolai was getting more frustrated by the second. He came here to apologize, to make things right and so far, the conversation was going in the opposite directions.

"Maybe now, but you spend more time with her than you do with me. It's only a matter of time before it happens and you're sorely mistaken if you think I'll just stand by and watch."

"This is not about Zoya," he insisted but so far, he wasn't getting the reaction out of you he wanted. You seemed... resigned at the situation. And that worried Nikolai to no end.

"It never is."

"Why did you run away?" Opting for a more direct approach, he bit the bullet and went straight to the point.

"I did not run away," you scoffed in contempt at his choice of words, "I told you I wanted to do more and Emil is teaching me. Not everyone is so against spending time with me, you know." You shot him a glance.

It was the first time that you had looked at him since you had been left alone.

"I married you, y/n. How can you possibly believe I don't want to spend time with you?" As desperation slipped through his words, Nikolai leaned towards you in his seat. As if he couldn't bear the distance between you anymore. But you knew it wasn't that. You and he had been distant for months now.

"Because that's what's happening, Nikolai," you clipped back and Nikolai had to refrain from wincing at your tone.

"It's not intentional, my love, I've just been busy." His tone softened. It was a poor excuse of an apology but it was sadly the truth.

"But when I say that I want to join or help you with it you strongly oppose?" Again, there was that suspicious implication in your words that Nikolai just couldn't stand. To think that you believed he'd ever cheat on you with another woman when he had done so much, taken so many risks, to be with you.

"It's not what you think, y/n." He insisted again but immediately realized he had said the wrong thing when he saw you leaning back into your chair shaking your head.

"I don't think anything, anymore. Do whatever you want. You do your thing and I'll do mine. I won't be a bother to you anymore." Holding up your hands, you gestured as you spoke.

A beat. Nikolai froze in his seat at what you were suggesting.

"You're never a bother to me. Never." He leaned even forwards in his chair, basically only propping on it now. The desperation was now clear in his voice. He reached out to you to try and take hold of your hands but you were too distant.

"I love you more than anything in this world and if you think that I'm going to let you go without a fight, you're sorely mistaken." The steel determination of his words caught you off guard. Nikolai was strong-headed, you knew that better than anyone else, but it had been a long while since that determination had been directed to you.

"You already did." It was barely a whisper. The sad truth about your reality, the downfall of your relationship. The wavering of your voice, the pain in your eyes were enough to tip Nikolai off the edge.

"Milaya, please."He fell onto his knees in front of you. Leaning forward he reached for your hands that he could now hold. "I'm sorry. I put you in a difficult position when I married you and I tried my best to protect you."

"I don't need protecting, Nikolai, especially if it's by pushing me away."

"I was keeping you away from danger and I know that you're strong and capable but I hate to think of you as the object of public slander." His eyes darted between yours, frantic, desperate to make you understand.

"I'm Grisha, Nikolai. It's nothing new to me," you pointed out but then it hit you.

"By difficult position, you meant a Grisha Queen, didn't you?" Your eyes hardened at the implications, your hands going slack in his hold. You would have pulled them away if Nikolai didn't tighten his hold.

"Please, do not think I'm regretting my choice or I think you're not worthy of the title because that's not true." Pulling your hands, he tried to get you closer to him. "I fear that there will be repercussions among the people." And there it was, at last, the truth.

"And among your ministers," you added remembering Emil's lessons on the people at court and their role.

You scoffed when he stayed silent. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing, my love."

"So Zoya can handle it and I can't?"

"For the millionth time," he groaned, "I don't care about Zoya."

"I only care about you and I know you can handle it. I just didn't want you to. You deserve happiness and peaceful life and I know it's impossible to have in this saints' forsaken country but I can at least try." His eyes lowered in shame and his confession sent a pang through your heart. You took a moment to take in what he said.

Never had you thought about the possibility of Nikolai's distance was a form of protection. You were a soldier of the Second Army, after all. But being a queen, especially a Grisha one, was a delicate thing.

It was the first time in history that something like this happened. Nikolai's worries were not unfounded since even after the destruction of the Fold, anti-Grisha movements were spreading fast.

It was sad to see the General's attempt of assuring safety for Grisha, provoking exactly the opposite thing.

"Oh, Kolya," returning his grip, you leaned towards him, "I just want a life with you by my side."

"As do I. I want you always and forever but above all, I want you safe. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, you know it right?"

"I just ask that you tell me the truth and let me play the role I've been given."

"It's not going to be easy. People at court-"

"I know. That's why I'm here. Emil's been teaching."

"Well, no more. I'm going to take care of it from now on."

"Is this a promise or a threat?"

"Rest assured my love, the difference between the two is almost nonexistent." He flashed you a smirk and you couldn't help but smile at him. Here it was, your beloved Nikolai.

"Things are going to change, aren't they?" you murmured softly as he gently rested his forehead against yours.

"We're going to show everyone what a "power couple" is." Here was his promise. Sealed with the gentlest nudging of his nose to yours. The action made you smile and your heart soar. You missed these little moments of intimacy with him.

One of his hands came to cradle your face as the other kept hold of your left hand. Your rings softly clicked as they touched. A form of reassurance.

"I love you, y/n."

"And I you, Kolya."

You were completely lost in your little bubble, even more so when Nikolai's lips finally met yours, that you had forgotten where you were. And that there was an embarrassed Kirigin outside the door waiting for the right moment to come in with tea.

[angry-geese]

Can I request nsfw+fluff gojo x fem!reader? (established relationships) Just gojo being horny and needy after weeks not seeing reader due to work. (Uuuu and may I add breeding kink too <3 ) Lmaooo what's wrong with me✋🏻😔 I love your works btw and just take your time💕💕 here *slides a cookie 🍪 *

YESSSS gojo + breeding kink is top tier. i got a little carried away with this one lol

When We Meet Again

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Warnings: shameless smut. oral (fem receiving), creampies, mating press, unprotected sex, fingering, fluff and smut. slight somnophilia (kinda??) fem!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

jjk masterlist

It's well past midnight by the time he gets home.

Save for a single light in the kitchen, the apartment is dark. Leftover pastries sit out on the counter, covered with a bowl to keep bugs from getting to them, alongside your keys, and an empty mug of tea. A grocery list has been stuck to the fridge. A rack of dishes sits beside the sink, drying.

You're not in your usual spot on the couch. He's not surprised. It's late. And though you don't have work in the morning, you were never one to stay up so long. You must have gone to bed already. You might have stayed up had he bothered to tell you he was coming home. But he didn't. His plans changed at the last moment, and not even he knew he'd be back so soon.

He hates being gone this long. He misses sleeping in his own bed. Sometimes he forgets just how cold a bed can be without someone else in it.

The door to your shared room is open. Though it's dark. There's a faint green glow from the alarm clock on the side table. The moon is full enough tonight to provide a bit of light; a pale silver glow fills the room. And there you are, curled up on his side of the bed. In one of his shirts. A black button up that’s a bit too big for you, with sleeves that hang well past your fingertips.

It's not like he can refuse. If he’s getting called out to help, then there's probably not someone who can go in his place. The strongest doesn't really have time to take a vacation. He’s on call 24/7. Between his teaching job at Jujutsu Tech, and the major clans of Jujutsu society constantly demanding his attention, he’s rather short on free time.

It was a tedious job. Not worth his time. Not particularly tough, albeit time consuming. But the previous two sorcerers came back with nothing. And so he was sent out. Cleaning up someone else's mess.

The first week he called every day. The job wasn’t supposed to take any longer than that. Or so you both assumed. As the second rolled through, your calls grew shorter, and less frequent. He found himself frustrated with the lack of contact. It wasn't either of your faults. Your work called for you to be out during the little free time he had. Overtime. When you did have time to call each other, you were often exhausted, and short with him. The distance was putting a strain on your relationship.

The worst part of it all; he couldn't fuck you. And for a man that could go multiple rounds in a day, that was miserable. His love language is touch. Not being able to hold you was… well, miserable.

You don't really know the extent of the effect you have on him.

He's too tired to change, and he showered before he left, so he strips to his boxers and pulls his side of the blankets aside. Tomorrow is laundry day anyway. You always choose Sundays for laundry day, because that's the day before you have to go back to work. There's just enough room between you and the edge of the bed for him to slip in.

When something makes him stop dead in his tracks.

It's your voice. You’re calling out his name. You aren't awake, and though you do sometimes talk in your sleep, tonight is different. When it does happen, it's usually nonsense. Soft, endearing babble that he can't help but listen to. He says your name, softly, but you don't respond. Enough moonlight streams in through the window to see your face. Your brows are knit in concentration—possibly frustration—and sweat beads in your hairline.

Are you having a nightmare?

The bed dips under his weight as he sits, resting a hand on your thigh. Your skin is rather warm, he notes. You roll over onto your side, burying your face in his pillow. He pulls the blankets up, tucking them around your shoulders, as you’ve kicked them down by your feet in your sleep.

There it is again. You say his name, but there's a level of desperation behind it.

There's no denying the wetness between your thighs. You squeeze your thighs together in an unconscious attempt to get some relief. Your breathing is labored.

It's only a moment later that the realization kicks in.

The grin that splits his face can only be described as malicious in nature.

His hand creeps higher on your thigh, nudging the hem of your—his—shirt up. You’re not wearing anything underneath. The sight of your slick cunt is nearly enough to make his cock stand to attention.

His gaze falls to the curve of your hips, just barely illuminated by the moonlight. He likes the light of you in his shirt a little more than he likes to admit. Though he’s never been quiet about how much he appreciates your body.

Your body freezes the moment his thumb grazes across your slit. So does he. You’re so wet. Must be a real nice dream. You roll onto your back, your legs parted slightly. The soft gasps and moans that leave you are like music to his ears. Gojo takes this as an invitation to continue, his hand moving further up your thigh, lazily tracing circles into it.

You must've missed him more than he expected.

Your body registers that someone is touching you before it registers just who is doing such. In your sleepy, dream-ridden state you don't recognize the figure in front of you. In the dim light of the room, you can make out a mess of white hair, and the reflection of dark, round glasses shoved up into his hairline. Gojo’s eyes practically reflect in the dark.

You jolt awake, sitting up. “Jesus christ-”

“‘S just me, Mochi,” he says, though it does little to settle your nerves.

If you weren't awake before, you certainly are now.

“What? You watch people in their sleep now?!” You scold. “‘Toru- you scared the hell out of me!”

You flop back on the bed. The blankets pool around your hips. You reach to pull them back up, finding your bed colder than usual.

"You were calling out my name." He says.

"Oh," you say, and though there's little light in the room, he watches your face flush, "must have been dreaming about you."

“Wanna recreate what you were dreaming?” He asks. Rather smugly, might you add.

You roll your eyes. “Go to sleep.”

"Scoot over then. I'm gonna fall off the bed."

This prompts an evil sounding giggle from you, followed by a: "fall then."

"Alright," he says, rolling over to lay on you, throwing his arm around your waist. You’re effectively pinned under him, as the awkward angle won't allow you any leverage to throw him off. He attacks the exposed part of your neck with kisses, sucking hickeys into the flesh of your neck and shoulders. His hair tickles your skin.

“‘Toru- stop!” You squeal. “Let me go-”

“Not until you apologize,” he says, planting a wet kiss on your jaw.

“Never!”

“Then I guess I won't let you go.”

His arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush to his chest. One of his hands finds your own, his fingers lacing with yours. His legs tangle with yours in a way that holds them in place. Worming out of his grip in this position would be a near impossible task.

You suppose there’s worse fates than this.

It would be easier to stay awake if he wasn't so warm. Or if he didn't smell so nice. Or if he wasn't softly rocking your body with each breath he takes. His thumb traces soft circles around your knuckles. Gojo’s breath is warm against your neck, making goosebumps rise along the soft flesh. The steady sound of it is almost enough to lull you to sleep.

"I missed you." You say. Your voice is almost too soft to hear.

“I know.” He says. His arms give your midsection a reaffirming squeeze. “I missed you too.”

“How was work?”

“A shitshow,” he says, leaning to nip at your earlobe, “but I get to come home to you, so it’s not all bad. How’s everything been around here?”

“Quiet.” You say. “Kinda boring without you. I wish you told me you’d be home tonight. I would have done something special.”

“It was a spur of the moment decision.” He says. “I didn't expect to be home so soon either.”

“We should do something tomorrow, then,” you say, “a new ramen place opened up down the street. You know where the old bakery used to be? They leased the place out.”

Gojo hums in response. Ramen sounds nice. Especially now. But he’s too tired and too horny to worry about food. Why have ramen when he has a meal right in front of him? Or a snack, as he often likes to call you. To which you roll your eyes, but there's no denying how he makes you blush.

You take back what you said about finding it easy to sleep. He’s moving around a bit too much for that. Gojo isn't subtle about it either. Nothing about the man is. He foregos subtly in favor of announcing nearly everything he does. Loudly. Who would dare stop him?

But you guess it's part of his charm. His dorky, sappy charm. You’ve kind of signed up for it, so you’re not complaining.

You scoot away from the edge of the bed a bit, thinking he needs more room. Gojo pulls you back to his chest, thinking you’re trying to run away from him.

“Quit squirming.” You hiss.

“Sorry Mochi,” he says, “just tryna get comfortable.”

And he really does mean it. But he’s been gone from you for so long that he's forgotten how nice your body feels against his. A little too nice, he’ll admit. Phone sex is nice, but it's not the same as the real thing. It gets old after a while. His hand doesn't quite compare to yours. Or the real thing. Something hard presses against your thigh from behind.

That's when it clicks. You just smell so nice. Your body is so warm against his. You look so nice in his shirt. Can you really blame him for getting hard?

You aren't sure he knows that you know. You shift a bit. It appears you’re only trying to get comfortable. His grip around your waist loosens, allowing you to settle a bit closer to him. You can't help it if your shirt rides up a bit, exposing the perfect curve of your ass. He prefers you in nothing at all, though the sight of you wearing his clothes is certainly a nice one. Any sight of you is. Gojo is shameless in the way he adores your body.

Once settled, his arms return to your waist. His head falls into the crook of your neck. He’s doing little to hide the tent he sports in his boxers. Maybe he thinks you don't notice. Or maybe he’s trying to ignore it.

“Stop that,” he says.

“I'm not doing anything,” you say, with the same evil giggle as before.

“Why do I not believe you?”

His lips find your neck, sucking a dark mark into your pulsepoint. The sudden sensation of lips on your neck makes you squeal. In your ear he coos every sappy nickname in the book that makes you blush.

You hardly notice as his hand trails lower. Your legs part just enough for him to slip his hand between them. He does nothing but seek out your warmth. Yet.

A familiar tension returns to your stomach. It's not unpleasant.

So that's what he was doing. Not that you’re complaining.

“Missed you, Mochi,” he says, gasping at the wet feeling of your cunt, “missed you so much. You have any clue what it's like being around all those weird old men all day? For days on end, no end in sight?”

It always surprises you just how bad the man can be with words, yet how good he is with his mouth.

His fingers find your clit, drawing lazy circles around the bundle of nerves. Your breath catches in your throat. You can't deny how nice his long fingers feel inside of you.

“Seems like you’ve missed me too.” He says, his breath warm against your ear.

“Whatever you want to think, old man,” you say. Though you have missed him. You always do. But there's some fun to be had by teasing him.

“Old man?!” He sounds genuinely hurt. “Don't be like that. I know you like having me around.”

“Oh really? What makes you think that?”

His fingers move to press into the tight entrance of your cunt, his thumb brushing across your clit. The soft gasp that leaves you is practically music to his ears. To give him credit, he is good with his hands.

“Did you think about me while I was gone,” he coos, “did you touch yourself while you did it? I did. Couldn't keep my mind off this sweet cunt of yours. I think I want a taste.”

Your only response is a soft moan. Heat pools low in your stomach, growing in intensity with each skilled movement of his hand. He moves so you can lay on your back. Your hands find the sheets, holding them in a death grip. Gojo nudges your legs further apart with one of his knees.

The kiss he pulls you into is uncharacteristically soft, and needy. He moans nearly as loud as you when you nibble on his bottom lip, hips lips parting, allowing the strong muscle of your tongue to explore his mouth.

Your hands work to undo the top few buttons of your shirt, exposing your breasts. His free hand comes up to grope appreciatively at your tits. Gojo has never been shy about how much he adores them. Or shy ever, to his credit. You’re his, and he would show you off to the world if you’d let him.

But sometimes he prefers to steal you into his domain, and hold you there. Close. Where you’ll always be at his side. The one place in this universe he can truly promise you’ll be safe.

You hardly notice as his kisses trail down your neck. Down the valley between your breasts. Working the last few buttons of your shirt open with his long fingers. What you do notice is the sudden absence of his hand.

Your legs part to give him room to settle between them. His head rests on your stomach. His warm breath tickles your skin.

"You gonna let me have a taste?" He asks, nipping at your thigh.

You swallow hard, eyes locked on him. Slowly, you nod.

You gasp at the feeling of his warm tongue, licking a stripe from your bellybutton to your mound. He's not touching you where you need him most. And that frustrates you. You buck your hips up towards his mouth, eliciting a soft laugh from him. He can't tease you too long. His cock is painfully hard, leaking against his thigh in his boxers. He can only hold himself back for so long.

You freeze at the feeling of a hot tongue against your clit.

Gojo eats pussy like a starving man, presented with his favorite meal. He does nothing short of savoring you. How you smell, how you taste, how you sound. He's shameless in how he adores this. Gojo moans nearly as loud as you at the taste of your cunt. Sweeter than his favorite dish. Meant to be savored.

You can't deny that he's good with his mouth. His tongue works circles around your clit, drawing gasps and moans from you.

Heat builds in your stomach, drawing you closer to your impending orgasm. One that comes upon you far sooner than expected.

Maybe you’re more pent up than you thought.

Your thighs clench around his head as you cum hard. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, working you through it with his skilled mouth. He’d stay with his head between your legs forever if you’d let him. Which you don't, as overstimulation soon registers in your lust addled mind, and you shove his head away.

The lower half of his face glistens in the dim light, wet with saliva, and your own slick. He’s far from subtle in the way he licks his lips, or groans at your taste. He may have gotten a bit too excited. It's not unlike him to get carried away. How can he resist a fertile cunt like yours?

“I think you should taste yourself,” he says. His hands move to cup your face as he pulls you into a kiss. You taste yourself on his lips. His hardened cock grinds against his thigh.

“‘Toru-” you whine.

“What's the matter baby?” He coos. “Use your words.”

“Fuck me.” You say. “I need you, ‘Toru. I need your cock in me.”

“Why didn't you say so?” He says, though the desperation in his voice is palpable.

He wastes no time in shoving his boxers down his hips, freeing his cock.

He’s not the most intimidating in size, but his cock is nice, and fairly thick, with a slight upward curve. The patch of hairs towards the base are soft, and white. Generally you don't need a whole lot of prep to take him. Which is helpful when he can't keep his hands to himself, and insists on fucking you in the bathroom during dinner. As much as he likes to take his time with you, he’ll take you anywhere you’ll let him. At work, or over every flat surface of your apartment. Not a single room of your home was spared. Not that either of you mind.

“Gotta work you open first,” he says, “don't want you to be too tight, do we?”

Between his saliva, and your own slick, you put up little resistance. He’s able to slide one finger in. Then a second, with no issue. His fingers curve, stroking your g-spot. His thumb works soft circles around your sensitive clit as he works you open with his fingers. Really, this is unnecessary. Your cunt is practically dripping with your own arousal.

He makes a show of licking his fingers, groaning at the taste of you. Gojo really has no shame.

The moan he lets out as he sheathes himself is truly sinful.

It's another moment before he starts thrusting.

Gojo needs a moment to collect himself. He’s been working himself up for hours if not days. All the nights he spent, thinking of what he’d do to you once he got home. He’s gone over this day in his head about a hundred times.

The sound of his hips slapping against yours fills the room. His taunts turn into senseless babble. Strands of praise mixed with Gojo’s overall dorky remarks. Pleas of your name, calling you mochi, baby, honey, and every other sappy nickname he can think of. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. He’s not going to let you leave this bed until you’re thoroughly marked up.

Tension grows in your stomach like a rubber band being stretched tight. Your previous orgasm has left you overly sensitive, and leaves another orgasm creeping up on you sooner than expected. His hand falls to your stomach, working lower until his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub.

He presses your legs further back, shoving them almost to your chest. The stretch leaves a pleasant burn in your hips. Your body isn't really meant to bend this way, though it’s not completely uncomfortable. It's not long before he has you into a full mating press, rutting against you desperately, fucking you into the mattress. The bed frame groans in protest with each of his thrusts. Deep, and unrelenting. Gojo’s cock curves in such a way that hits your sweet spots just right, leaving you writing under him.

“Gonna put a baby in you, Mochi,” he says, “gonna breed this pretty cunt of yours.”

You nod along desperately. You want nothing more than for him to cum inside, filling you completely.

He silences your moan with a kiss, his teeth clashing against yours. His tongue presses past your lips, exploring the wet cavern of your mouth. You can still taste yourself on him.

A line of saliva connects your lips as he pulls away.

“Not gonna ask you to take all of it,” he says, “but take everything I got.”

And with that, he can't hold back any longer, painting your womb white. Gojo’s cum is normally thick, and there's normally a lot of it. Today even moreso. Two weeks away hasn't helped with that. Cum runs down your thighs in streams, ruining your sheets.

The elders aren't going to be happy that he’s so reckless with his precious seed, but Gojo couldn't give a damn. The elders can talk all they want. That's all they're good for. He gets to cum in a warm place, and that's more than any of the others can say.

He practically collapses on top of you.

Gojo shifts so less of his body weight is on top of you. And though the room is rather warm, you find yourself nuzzling into his body, seeking out his warmth. His arms have always given you a sense of security, especially when wrapped up in them. They find your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest.

For a moment the two of you lay there, basking in each other's warmth.

You’ll have to get up in a bit anyway. To clean yourself up, and change the sheets. And get a new shirt. Probably another one of Gojo’s. He’s never been against seeing you wear his clothes. They never stay on you for long, though.

You pry his arms off, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, but he notices, and tightens his grip.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, sounding rather offended.

“To get a drink,” you say, “I'm thirsty. Why? Do you want one too?”

“You think I’d let you go after just one round?” He asks. “You’re not leaving this bed until I’ve fucked you full of my cum.”

You're in for a long night.