#i just fucking want a job where my bosses treat me like a Human Person

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the fics I read and loved this month. Happy reading!

is this flying or falling | HoldingOnToChaos | [55k] Harry Styles is a recently divorced omega who has been planning his lavish solo trip to Tahiti for six months. The trip is to treat himself on the one-year anniversary of his divorce from his long and horrible marriage. Unfortunately, he can’t seem to escape the annoyingly persistent and wildly handsome alpha named Louis. Louis Tomlinson is a workaholic who was forced into taking annual leave by his boss. He doesn’t love the idea of leaving work for so long so he gets drunk and buys a trip to Tahiti on a whim. When he meets the gorgeous omega, Harry, he finds a purpose for this trip after all. -- OR the one where Harry and Louis both go on a trip to Tahiti and meet on the plane

Got Time (But We're Only Human) | galactic_larry | [6k] Louis and Harry have been dating for years, but have been keeping it a secret from the public, which is why when they decide to go on a trip with Liam, Niall, and Zayn to celebrate One Direction’s anniversary, they end up at a farm in the middle of nowhere. What happens when a picture that shouldn’t have been taken starts circulating on the internet, threatening to mess everything up?

Into Daylight | crimsontheory | [13k] When Louis is let go from his dream job he’s forced to move back in with his mom in his small hometown. In desperate need to make money again, Louis takes the only job he’s able to find at the local cattle ranch. Except the new owner of the ranch is the only person Louis was hoping he could avoid.

promise you'll remember | Anonymous | [10k] Louis is a widower whose daughter's fish just died. He panics, then ends up meeting Harry, a marine biologist who is out to steal his heart.

confections of the heart | pleasinglouis | [25k] Harry chuckles, smiling when Louis’ breath hitches as he reaches up to brush his thumb over Louis’ cheek. “Louis, would you like to go on a date with me?” He still worries that the date won’t go well, that Harry will get bored of him or decide it’s too complicated dating an omega with a pup, but he nods anyway, “Yes.” It feels worth it when Harry’s lips widen into a grin and the dimple that Louis finds quite charming craters into his cheek. Who knows, maybe it won’t be as awkward as you think, Louis thinks to himself and follows Harry to where Oliver is watching a chef with a loud laugh show the pup how to sculpt with chocolate. Maybe this time it’ll work out. . . Or Louis is a single mom, Harry is a pastry chef, and Oliver just wants his mom to be happy. With a teaspoon of love and a sprinkle of fate, the three might just find a home in each other.

Runaway Darling | solvetheminourdreams | [26k] “You’re coming?” Louis seethes while starting the ignition. “If you think I’m going to let you, of all people, drive my car then you’re even more idiotic than I originally thought.” Louis puts the car in drive and turns to Harry with narrowed eyes, not lifting his foot from the brake. “Listen here, you curly haired—” “Oh my God, just fucking drive!” Ada screams. Both of their eyes widen and Louis nearly slams his foot on the accelerator as he starts to whip out of the parking lot as quickly as it took him to turn on the car. Or an au where Louis hates weddings, Harry loves them, and together they help a bride skip hers.

Lethal Loveache | thinlines | [22k] Louis made sure to dose himself in blockers every time he stepped out of his flat. He used them so often that sometimes he would forget the undertones of his own scent. Never had he thought the day would come when his wolf would blink open its eyes, ears perked and alert at an omega’s presence. OR Alpha Louis is dangerously close to breaking his own promise.

The Wind It Held Us Up | hazzahtomlinson | [14k] Louis should’ve known he was fucked from the beginning. Honestly, he blamed it on fate. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. But, it was the only logical explanation he could come up with. They were destined to meet. It had been set up by the universe. That was the only thing that made sense. It all started one afternoon when Louis had left his mates house. They had spent the afternoon watching football. It was the main reason he had gone over there— well, that, and the fact that Liam had just got out of a particularly bad relationship. Louis went over there hoping to cheer the lad up and, thankfully, it had worked. When he’d left at a little after five o’clock, the other man had a giant smile plastered on his face, and had given Louis a giant bear hug as thanks. That was when it all fell into place really. Or Louis had a feeling there was life on other planets, he just hadn’t expected to meet someone from one.

The Heart's Home | homosociallyyours | [10k] Louis is alone in the world, working long hours at a restaurant job that barely pays his bills, when he's roped into helping his bosses with a scheme. All he has to do is guard the special catch they've brought in, the one that they expect will bring them unbelievable wealth. But there's a problem: the creature they've caught is definitely half human, with the heart and soul of a human and the voice of an angel. Louis knows immediately that he can't let this mer-squid, Harry, become a wealthy person's dinner. As they spend more time together, growing ever closer, Louis realizes that he's got to find a way to get Harry back to his home-- the sea --even if the thought of losing him hurts and doing it means risking everything.

Purity Piercings | jaerie | [5k] “Okay I need the help of… The sex side of Tiktok? The piercing side of Tiktok? Religion side of Tiktok?? I don’t even know,” the guy in the video said, sitting in his car looking stressed. Even if Louis wasn’t a piercer by trade, he was already invested. “I was born and raised in the HMF -- Google it if you don’t know what that is -- and I know some of their practices are not normal outside of the HMF townships,” the Tiktoker ran his fingers through his hair and paused as he looked out the car window for a second. “I’ve been out for almost two years and I just learned that purity piercings aren’t a thing?? Like… Can someone confirm? Is that really not a normal thing that’s done?”

[octoberobserver]

We're a Documentary, Not a Fucking Sitcom - WWDITS Fic

(Read on ao3 here)

I read ' 'The power dynamics seem so problematic. I mean, that’s his boss,' and this possessed me. Enjoy! 😉

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Guillermo blinked his eyes open, the ghost of Nandor’s cold, smooth lips still lingering on his own.

He had just kissed him. Right on the mouth, mid-sentence, on a random Tuesday night, three months after Guillermo became human again.

“I…Mas–Nan…”

The words died in his throat as his brain whirred like a computer with too many tabs open.

“I am your boss,” Nandor continued as if he had not heard him, beginning to pace the length of the Fancy Room. “You are my employee. It is frowned upon…problematic.”

That snapped Guillermo out of his stupor, frowning as he tried to make sense of his rambling.

“Okay, first of all, employees get paid. If anything, I was an unpaid labourer,” he held up his hand to stop himself from tracing his lips with the pad of his thumb.

“Second of all, you’re not my boss anymore anyway. I’m just your human roommate now, remember? I have a new job teaching self-defense down at the YMCA. I’m not your familiar. We’re equals. We made the deal that I would stay in this house once none of you treated me like shit anymore and you got a new familiar. You’re just too stubborn to let me help you pick a replacement.”

That stopped the vampire in his tracks, a petulant pout on his handsome face.

“That’s because they are all terrible, Guillermo! Francine didn’t know how I like my hair combed, and Jason did not do my buttons up correctly!”

“You didn’t give them a chance to learn!”

“You picked it up right away!”

“Well, not everyone can be me!”

“I know! That’s the problem!”

Somehow they had closed the distance between them and were right back where they started moments ago, mere inches from each other. Naturally, Guillermo’s eyes fell on those pale, alluring lips, but he dragged them back up to a safe spot, focussing on the crinkle between Nandor’s eyebrows from where his head was bent downwards.

“Third of all,” he forced out, his breath no doubt bouncing off his chin. “‘Problematic?’ Seriously? You brutally killed innocent people that I lured here every single week for the last thirteen years. And you’re worried about us having a…a ‘workplace kiss’ being problematic?”

Look. It wasn’t like it had never crossed his mind. Both kissing Nandor and the very morally bankrupt decision to feed random humans to a group of bloodthirsty vampires every week for his entire adult life. But ever since he was faced with directly killing an innocent person so he could live and being unable to do it, he was questioning himself and his choices more and more lately.

(The whole wanting to kiss his former Master thing was a constant, ongoing thing. And definitely not a recent development. But that was his business.)

“Well,” Nandor waved a hand, undeterred. “Darla said it is frowned upon.”

Guillermo squinted up at him.

“And who is Darla?”

“My spotter at the gym. She’s a grandma looking to strengthen her pelvic floor.”

“Ew, what—? No. Doesn’t matter,” he winced. “So, what would Darla think about you kissing someone ten seconds after they tell you they’re going on a date? Is that not ‘problematic?’”

Nandor scrunched up his nose.

“Well, it just happened, so how would I have time to tell—”

“Mierda,” he muttered under his breath, staring up at the ceiling for a God he couldn’t believe in anymore.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, Guillermo. I am sorry,” Nandor said in the ‘I’m trying to be diplomatic but am being a giant baby about it’ voice that he found hard to truly hate. “I just…thought that you had sworn off dating?”

A disbelieving laugh escaped his chest.

“So, what, you thought you’d kiss me in…protest?”

Something warm was fluttering around his abdomen as his heart beat what felt like a million times a second, his brain very unhelpfully replaying the kiss over and over in his head.

Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it, stop—

“I’m just confused,” Nandor was shrugging when he forced himself to focus. “You seemed uninterested in dating, and now you come in here and tell me not to wait up because you’re going out with some fucking gu—”

“And why is it you think I’d be uninterested in dating, Nandor? Would it be ‘cause the last boyfriend I had, you fucking cloned for yourself, and then sent him away so he could meet up with Freddie and have him cheat on me with himself?!”

The words echoed throughout the large room.

Nandor looked just like he did when he'd been slapped.

“Guiller—”

“No. Let’s talk about it,” he cut him off, shooting a glance at the nearest camera before glaring up at him. “I’m so sick, of never talking about things in this house. Just letting them revert back to the status quo. We’re a documentary, not a fucking sitcom,” he huffed, pointing a finger in his face, still standing so close he almost poked him.

“You turned your wife into my boyfriend, and that was really fucked up. You know, something actually ‘problematic.’”

He added extra sarcasm and generous bunny ears around the word, scorn and hurt rising within him from where it had laid dormant for over a year.

“You destroyed Marwa, and then my relationship, and you’ve never once taken responsibility for it. Or anything else you’ve ever done. So if you wanna talk about what’s ‘problematic,’ let’s start—”

“I changed her back.”

Guillermo froze.

“What?”

Nandor was busy staring at the red couch, murmuring so quietly that he almost didn’t hear him.

“I said I changed her back. I used my remaining wishes to…undo it all. Give her the life she deserves…without me. She’s in Washington now. Has gone back to school, last I heard.”

His heart skipped a beat as he digested that.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well,” Nandor scoffed, stepping even closer, gaze locked back on him. “I might have if you hadn’t been so busy conspiring with Laszlo because you went behind my back and got Derek to turn you INTO A VAMPIRE. DEREK! FUCKING GUY.”

Guillermo’s blood began to boil, spilling like molten lava in his veins.

“Because YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO!” he exploded. “After YEARS of putting up with all of your shit, I had enough of waiting!”

Nandor’s jaw clenched.

“I was going to turn you, even though I wasn’t sure if it was right for you, but you abandoned me for London!”

“Laszlo locked me in a coffin and shipped me to London like a giant FedEx package! I had literally zero control over that!” Guillermo shot back.

“Well,” Nandor cast his eyes around the room for an answer and grinned humorlessly when he found one. “You didn’t look for me.”

Oh, hell no.

“Yes, I did! But I had no way of contacting you,” Guillermo spat. “I had Nadja reach out through the ether and said she couldn’t find you, that you were blocking her somehow. So, yeah. It wasn’t like you were looking for me, either!”

His chest was heaving like an overwhelmed Victorian maiden whilst Nandor was as still as a statue, but he didn’t care.

Finally. Finally he was airing his grievances. After all this time. Years and years of pent-up anger and hurt and resentment, they were finally talking about it all. And God, it felt amaz—

“I was mad at you when you didn’t meet me on that platform…you broke my heart.”

Those words turned his molten blood to ice.

But that didn’t stop his own words from tumbling out of his mouth anyway.

“Yeah, well. You broke mine first.”

Their eyes met.

Silence engulfed the room.

“That’s a lot of information to get in thirty seconds.”

His head whirled around to find Colin Robinson staring at them from the doorway.

“This is a private conversation, Colin Robinson,” Nandor replied, his gaze still burning a hole into Guillermo. “Leave. Now.”

“Right. Private,” Colin retorted with his usual deadpan tone, gesturing to the cameras. “Whatever. Just fuck already. It’s faster. Especially the way Nandor does it.”

They listened to his retreating steps for a beat, Nandor cursing him under his breath.

“Did he quote Friends?” Guillermo gaped after him, realising it was in vain when he remembered who he was asking, though he could swear he saw one of the camera crew quietly nodding.

“Do not change the subject, Guillermo,” Nandor drew him back in, his dark gaze unwavering. “What did you mean when you said I broke your heart first?”

They don’t call him ‘The Relentless’ for nothin’.

“Come on,” he cleared his throat, his heart firmly lodged there as he tried to step around him. “We don’t have to do this. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yes, it does, and yes, we do,” his hand shot out inhumanly fast and held him in place by the wrist, firmly but not something he couldn’t break from. “You wanted to talk, so talk. Please.”

What were you saying about pent-up feelings, again?

“You,” he took a shaky breath, forcing himself to stand his ground. “You…have to know how I…how I’ve felt all these years. I know you’re not that dumb.”

Nandor’s lips parted, but Guillermo kept going, words flowing from him like a burst dam.

“Every cruel word, every dismissal, every time you rebuffed my hugs or compliments or belittled me or my accomplishments…it was death by a thousand cuts. Because I fuckin’ loved you anyway.”

A bitter laugh escaped him as tears stung his eyes.

“Huh. Now that’s problematic.”

The silence was deafening.

Nandor had yet to move an inch, not even to blink.

Well, you’ve done in now, de la Cruz. And even managed to reference a Taylor Swift song. Bravo.

Seconds ticked into nearly a minute, and Guillermo was really starting to get freaked ou—

“‘Loved…’” came a raspy voice, barely above a whisper. “...as in past tense?”

He stared at the hand that was still clasping his wrist, right over his hummingbird pulse point and thought, fuck it.

“Love. I love you, Nandor. I always have. And I meant it when I said I was gonna be right here by your side. Even…even if it’s just as your friend and roommate. Because that’s what love means.”

He had done a lot of brave things in his life. Had taken on and killed dozens of vampires, faced witches, zombies and werewolves without batting an eye, and had emo bangs way past 2012, but Guillermo de la Cruz had never felt true bravery until this exact moment.

He watched as Nandor’s face crumpled like creepy paper, his eyes squeezing shut as he took in a deep breath he didn’t need and mumbled to himself.

“Floating through the cold, dark universe like a little grain of furry sand.”

“...what?”

Those large, dark eyes that he loved so much popped open, and he almost gasped at their intensity.

“I…I once thought I was completely alone in this world, Guillermo. Without someone to love or love me. But I’m realising now that that hasn’t been true for a long time, has it?”

Guillermo swallowed the lump in his throat.

He shook his head.

Slowly, a small smile spread on Nandor’s face, his thumb brushing against the thin skin of his wrist.

“And it hasn’t for you either, you know.”

Guillermo felt his brow furrow.

“Wha—”

Cold, soft lips covered his for the second time that night. Heart hammering against his ribcage, he hurried to kiss back this time, leaning up on his tip-toes and gently trailing his tongue along Nandor’s bottom lip.

The kiss deepened as he opened his mouth, the corner of one of his fangs brushing against Guillermo’s tongue and sending a thrill through his entire body. They gripped each other, on the edge of frantic.

“That is why I kissed you, Guillermo,” Nandor murmured, leaning back to press his face into his jaw, peppering little pecks there. “I love you too. But I was too dumb to acknowledge it. Until I thought I was losing you again.”

Shock flowed through Guillermo at both confessions, gripping the back of his neck to pull him further down into him, arousal sparking in his gut as a large hand clutched his hip and pulled them flush together, covering his mouth with his carefully but passionately.

Over six feet of solid muscle draped over him like an awning, and he had never felt more in tune with his own body before, letting himself get lost in the sensation.

Dios mio.

After a few seconds, minutes, or several years, his heart squeezed on the bridge of pain, his head spinning a little, his lips growing numb.

Breaking for air, he gasped, reminding both Nandor and himself, “B-Breathe, I-I need to breathe.”

Smiling apologetically, Nandor’s giant hand cupped his cheek, gaze boring into him.

“I know I’m not your boss anymore, Guillermo. But I would still like it very much if…if you kept your post as my heartguard.”

Now he was breathless for a whole different reason.

Beaming, his eyes stinging again, he brought his hand up and linked their fingers.

“Okay. Only if you’re mine too, though.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

Somewhere in the depths of the house, they heard Nadja let out a loud gag, followed quickly by, “Give it to him, good, Gizmo, and shut up already!”

Face on fire, he turned to him, leaning back in.

They still had a million and one things to talk about and work through. Obviously. Issues like theirs—problematic or otherwise—didn’t disappear with one, two, or even three admittedly fantastic kisses. But for now, their roommates had a point.

“Fucking vampires,” Guillermo chuckled.

“No,” Nandor replied with a sharp grin. “There’s just one vampire to fuck. Me."

Groaning at the dumb pun, Guillermo allowed himself to be kissed deeply and thoroughly, winding his hand into the silky, dark hair he adored and tugging.

It was as Nandor let out a quiet mewl (that he was definitely filing away for later) that he remembered the cameras. And the other people in the room. And his date.

“Wait, sorry,” he broke the kiss, his mouth already raw from beard burn and loving it before he turned to the crew.

“Can we have some privacy, guys? Please? And here, take my phone and text my date that I’m sorry I won’t make it, but he seems like a good guy, and I hope he meets someone else.”

He watched as the crewmember closest to him just barely caught his phone while the rest of the team just gaped at them, frozen in place, until a dark shadow cast over the room.

“He asked nicely,” Nandor said, his voice an octave lower than usual. “Do not make me ask not nicely.”

Not needing to be told twice, the crew scrambled to vacate the room, lugging their cameras and equipment behind them as Nandor reeled Guillermo back in, pushing him gently against the wall and cradling his head.

“Out, out!” he shooed over his shoulder, kissing along his jugular, his sharp fangs lightly scraping his skin and making him shiver. “We are a documentary, not a fucking porno!”

“No, save that for the honeymoon, old chap,” Laszlo’s muffled voice wafted from above. “And, if you need any pointers, let me know!”

[sakurachan7734]

They are Talking to themselfs now cause no one‘s home

One off story



This might be one of my really sad stories just so you know and the title is based off one of the lyrics to probably my favorite bad religion song, “two babies in the dark” 

Aristotle pov

I might as well be home alone at this point I mean I know father is down the basement working and he doesn’t want me bothering him but he never comes upstairs until dad gets home and dad comes home at about 12 normally he comes home at 10 but his drive for perfection blinds him sometimes and I just got out of rehab and my parents are letting me stay home a week so I can try getting better mentally but this is just making me want to use again it’s so goddamn lonely in this castle and I feel like I’m being dramatic because I know my father is home I know they love me but I feel like I can’t tell them I how I am mentally because they’re always busy and they don’t want me disturbing them my sister is still at school 

Aristotle: I guess I could just talk to myself for a while

Aristotles imaginary friend then appears in front of them Aristotle has not thought about this in a really long time so they forgot what they had created which was a vampire Jackalope named jasper

Jasper: it’s so good to see you again!

Aristotle: I don’t wanna play I just wanna talk.

Jasper: about what?

Aristotle: I just want someone to vent to 

Jasper: ok go on

Aristotle: I feel like I can’t tell anyone how I am feeling mentally because I will get called dramatic or pushed away because on the outside I have the perfect fucking life and every teen girls dream job but my job is telling me I can’t eat a certain amount of calories or I’m gonna be put on diet pills and I don’t want to get fired so I have to listen to them

Jasper: oh that’s bad Is your boss making you do that?

Aristotle: yes but I think he is retiring soon so hopefully my next boss won’t do this to me but it’s the modeling industry so that might happen again

Jasper: well why don’t you switch modeling buildings? One that won’t treat you the way they control how you eat

Aristotle: I can’t because it took me forever to get that job

Jasper: well why don’t you tell your parents?

Aristotle: well I might get punished away or they won’t believe me

Jasper: why don’t you tell your boyfriends?

Aristotle: well I don’t want to bother them with my problems because Jackson and Charlie don’t know how to handle human emotions

Jasper: so you feel like you have nobody to talk to?

Aristotle: kinda yea

Jasper: are your parents putting you for therapy?

Aristotle: yes but I feel like it’s not working I kind of wanna start using drugs again 

Jasper: you know that’s a terrible idea right?

Aristotle: I know but…. I feel like nothing else is working and I don’t wanna bother my parents by getting me a better therapist….

Jasper: how was your ballet instruction towards you?

Aristotle: she is a bit nicer to me but she’s the one who suggested I go on diet pills because and I quote “nobody wants to look at a fat freak of nature” i’m already super skinny I don’t know where she got that from

Jasper: you do ballet professionally?

Aristotle: yes well it started a hobby but then I got to a point where I turn it into a career 

Jasper: ok well how is the public treating you about being a child of a world famous celebrity?

Aristotle: I both hate it and love it I hate it because I’m constantly swarmed by paparazzi and other fans and I’ve gotten a few creepy ones that touched me everywhere and I have to put on a fake face for the media because if I yell at them to stop taking pictures I will be called the bad guy I feel like I’m being told how to feel how to act how to dress without directly being told and I feel like I’m just seen as public property to them instead of a person

Jasper: it sounds like you’re feeling like you can’t come out about your feelings because you’re under a bunch of pressure

Aristotle: yeah probably but like I said, I don’t know how to come out about it because I have a feeling I’ll be pushed away or just ignored….

Jasper: well…. Judging on The fact of whatever you just told me you might need to take another week off of school and you might need to call out of work for a little bit

Aristotle: I can’t my parents said I could stay out for about a week or two until I feel better but my work won’t let me stay out more than one week.

Jasper: will you could call in sick

Aristotle: I tried but they still said I can only be gone for one week

Jasper: well what is something that calms you down?

Aristotle: well alone quiet stroll on the beach or woods just by myself no music, no conversations no nothing….hmm you know what yeah I’m gonna go take a walk

Jasper: all right thanks for sharing

Jasper then disappears Aristotle leaves a note on the fridge saying “went for a walk I will be back in about two hours” 

Aristotle pov

This…..This is nice this may be what I need but not the same time because I’m complaining about feeling lonely but I’m doing stuff all by myself but I don’t wanna worry everybody with my problems because I don’t know how to handle them and I don’t want them to worry about me I feel almost pathetic for being like this, wanting people by me, but yet pushing them away at the same time maybe I should just convince my parents to let me see better therapist or get back to the drugs maybe both only time will tell.

End





[scarluxia]

Solidarity with actual working-class people (that you personally know)

I probably shouldn’t say this, because two of the people involved have been 95% kind to me in the many years that we’ve known each other, but I’m still fucking salty about the other 5% that happened a few years ago. I was writing about it in my diary to process it and the sudden urge to post it up overcame me.

I don’t remember what year this was, but I want to say 2017. I’m not going to name names here because it is a sensitive personal issue and I actually don’t want to upset someone it’s about. This isn’t intended to throw shade, but some emotions are going to come out. I love them to death and I’d do just about anything for them except keep silent because I’ve been censored and shut down my entire fucking life and I won’t have it. (I’m pretty sure they’ve apologized since this happened? but the emotions associated with it won’t go away. We’re good and they’ve been a stalwart friend since this incident, so this is JUST about my feelings about the situation.)

A little background on Person X. They’re very into social justice activism and have boycotted a few major companies for business practices they don’t agree with that could potentially harm *waves arm* The Masses. That’s part of why what I’m about to describe shocked the hell out of me. They have a spouse whom I’ll call Person Y.

Person Z was, at the time, working a demanding job and going to college. Person A was their boss.

Z has a disorder. They require things to be rephrased for their comprehension sometimes. They’re also very emotionally sensitive and... I don’t know if they second-guess themself a lot but they ask me things like, “Does this [outfit/accessory] look good? Does this [essay] sound okay? Is it insensitive if I associate [this thing] with [this other thing]?” Stuff like that. They want a lot of feedback to make sure they’re doing well. So, at their job, they asked their boss for specifically positive feedback. Well, they received the exact opposite, in front of customers which included X and me. I don’t remember the entire conversation, but at least two of us were crying at the end of it. What I do remember is Z being scolded for doing everything incorrectly and “charging for [their] time.”

So imagine being a college student, working a demanding job in the service industry, PROBABLY being paid minimum wage, and being told, in front of customers, that you’re doing everything wrong and charging for your time. Charging the MINIMUM FUCKING WAGE OF WHAT IS LEGALLY REQUIRED TO PAY AN EMPLOYEE. Now pile a disorder on top of that, that makes it difficult to understand instructions the first time, and a boss who’s too impatient to give proper training because oh you should just be able to see this demonstrated once and then do it perfectly.

Z was furious and hurt, and I was furious on their behalf. I went to trade school to qualify for work and I worked as hard as my various illnesses would allow in order to pay bills and services, and have the occasional fun shopping trip. Z has more focus and drive than I do; they now have a college degree and they worked in an industry that I probably couldn’t. I was so incredibly impressed with them for accomplishing things that I might not be able to, so to see them be torn down like that for doing their literal best, especially when their best is better than my best, was horrifying.

I immediately decided I was never going to patronize that establishment again. My solidarity was 100% with my friend, who now had to find a new job and was probably feeling pretty demoralized about doing so. I expected that X would feel the same way, given that X has boycotted major companies for inhumane practices that hurt...the hypothetical masses. People we’ll never meet. Surely boycotting a business that treats an actual tangible human being we personally know like an errant and incompetent child would be an even easier thing to commit to, right?

Nah, you know where I’m going with this. X had formed an emotional attachment with Person A and just wanted us all to get along. Didn’t want to pick sides, wanted to be accepted and loved by everyone. Understandable, but in light of their activism on the behalf of-- again-- STRANGERS, I just.... 

It felt like a slap in the face. It felt like, “I don’t care how they treated my friend as long as they still love ME.” Disclaimer: That’s my personal emotional reaction to it. I don’t know if Z felt the same way. I’m not trying to speak for them, but I definitely felt betrayed on their behalf because, if the same thing had happened to me, I would feel like, “You don’t have my back. I can’t trust you to stand up for me come hell or high water like I would do for you.”

Let’s talk about the actions taken, so it’s clearer what I actually mean. I immediately decided I would never eat at this establishment again, regardless of who was paying for the meal, because I did not want money spent on MY behalf there. I did not ENDORSE how A treated their staff. X, however, had a strong emotional attachment to A and chose to continue eating there-- which shocked the hell out of me. I’m pretty sure I tried to be understanding at the time because I know X is a lot more sociable than I am and they’re also someone I don’t want to hurt.

Meanwhile, I wrote a 3-star review saying the food was good but I didn’t like the way the owner treated their employees. The owner then demanded, to X, that I-- a completely separate person, for whose actions X is NOT responsible-- take down the review. I did not like that idea. I feel strongly against having to censor myself or be un-allowed to say what’s true. X’s spouse, Person Y, got involved and basically asked me if my “having a voice” (my words that Y repeated) was more important than X’s feelings, and expressed upsetness that X was crying over “a fucking review”.

There are a lot of things Y and I do not see eye-to-eye on. I love and respect them, and I’m grateful to them for helping me quite a lot. But as a working-class person below the poverty level... being expected to swallow THAT, from someone who (also works hard but) comes from a wealthy family who’d be able to help them get back on their feet if something happened??? That was a lot for me to be expected to handle with any sort of grace. I wanted to fucking SCREAM at them that they had no idea what Z had gone through, what I could be at risk of going through if I was unlucky enough. I wanted to tell them both that X should know better and put their desire to be liked by everyone aside for the sake of loyalty to an actual good friend! I wanted to say that if A really valued X, A wouldn’t be emotionally blackmailing X to have SOMEONE WHO IS NOT PERSON X take down an honest fucking review regarding their business practices.

I can say all that in hindsight because it’s been years, but I don’t think our friendship would have survived it if I’d said all that at the time. I took down the review, bristling the whole time that I was once again being demanded to silence myself. Person X and Person A subsequently had a conversation that (paraphrased) went:

“We’re not going to be close anymore, but your money’s still welcome here.”

“No, thank you.”

It was a harrowing experience for X, probably Y, definitely Z, and me. This whole thing was a fucking mess and, while Z has moved on, sometimes this still haunts me, like today, even though I was barely involved. I don’t know why I hold onto things this hard.

I put the review back up, by the way, once X greenlit me to do so. I dropped it down to a 1-star, repeated what I’d said in my old review, and added that the owner had emotionally blackmailed me by proxy into taking down the initial review, so therefore I was dropping it from a mediocre 3-star to a scathing 1-star.

Again, this isn’t supposed to be a shade-post. It just... escapes my comprehension how someone could see their friend be treated like shit right in front of their eyes and not immediately go, “Oh HELL no, you don’t deserve my kindness or my business anymore.” I place a high premium on loyalty and honesty, for the most part. I hate neutrality in the face of personal conflict. If I have a problem with someone and you’re “neutral”, then by definition you are not explicitly “for me”. While I’ve come to accept in the last like... thirteen years that that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re “against me”, not being explicitly for me still feels like a betrayal.

Likewise, if I see someone treat my friend badly, I am explicitly for my friend. While I might continue being civil or even friendly to the other person if I need something from them (e.g. a project partner or someone I’ve commissioned), I’m no longer going to trust them and you bet your ASS I’m selling them out by name the second I get the chance.

I don’t ask that my friends point the finger and say, “Jane Brown is a BAD PERSON because they did THESE HORRIBLE THINGS to my friend and HERE’S THE RECEIPTS!” I just feel like maybe it would be beneficial to think, “Hmm, Jane Brown did something that made my friend hurt and angry. I should consider whether my association with Jane is more important than my friend’s well-being,” especially if another friend has taken a stand and said, “I don’t want to support Jane anymore because of Jane’s behavior towards our friend.”

[datamodel-of-disaster]

Ok, long post warning, I'm angry.

I get that sex work is very often if not almost always an incredibly shitty, dangerous job that a lot of people would prefer not to do. Believe me, I know.

But it's a job.

Not wanting to do the job unless you get paid IS A NORMAL PART OF A JOB. There might be a culture of pretending to enjoy your job if you work in corporate, but don't let that fool you. The pretend-satisfaction is just another part of the job.

You cannot make the point the OP is making here without treating sex like something fundamentally, morally different from other types of labour. This is pure radfem "appeal to disgust" type shit.

Yes, stuff you do just because you need money and food and housing is... not typically super enjoyable.

Yes, the people who pay you in your job are very much aware that you aren't there out of personal enthusiasm... and they don't care. It's also not some kind of psychopath trait to not really care that the people you're reimbursing for a service are just in it for the money.

Do I need to feel bad when I order a drink for knowing my cheerily smiling waiter wouldn't serve me if they weren't getting paid?

(=> a note here. If you think paying someone entitles you to mistreat them, you're a piece of shit. But that is just as true for someone who screams at a waiter or assaults a retail worker. The problem here is that OP thinks having sex with someone for money is intrinsically abusive, regardless of whether a john *actually* abuses a sex worker. Imagine we decided that working retail was so intrinsically awful that we collectively lost the ability to vocalize the difference between the drudgery of a grocery store checkout shift and *getting beaten up by a customer* on your shift)

And yes, people paying you for stuff will very often just as gladly take the stuff without paying for it, if they think they can get away with it. Which fucking sucks, but here we are. Everyone who has ever gotten scammed, raise your hand. Everyone who has ever been forced into unpaid hours in order to keep or get a job, raise your hand.

These are qualities that ALL jobs share.

If the bosses of your non-sexwork job can get away with making you do work and not paying you for it? THEY WILL.

Look at all the industries having strikes right now. If there is a way around fair wages, bosses and companies will find and use it. Wage theft is the world's most common type of robbery.

And if the bosses of your non-sexwork job can get away with putting you in danger to make a profit? HELL YES THEY WILL.

Think of how near every industrial accident is caused by skimping on maintenance and safety, think of how many people have died from exposure to dangerous substances and environments because bosses in the know didn't want to shill for PPE. Honestly, if an industry sees a way to get away with a human rights violation for profit, they won't fucking hesitate.

This is a shitty but bog standard part of being employed. Unions have had to fight for every bit of protection employees have in most sectors. Every regulation is written in blood.

Sex work is only different in the way our societies have moralized it and left it devoid of any protection, even the meagre protection of assumed common humanity that gives most people at least a moment of pause. No Humans Involved is always in the back of my head.

If you're more interested in creating a world where men can't get sex than a world where sex workers have human rights and workers' rights and both are fucking respected, you are a piece of shit.

If you think that a man being able to offer someone money and get laid is somehow more morally reprehensible than the way our society has decided that people who offer paid sexual services are not really people, you are a piece of shit.

[sweetest--melody]

tell us about shion!!

HOW DID I KEEP FORGETTING ABOUT THIS IM SO SORRY!!!

so Shion Ayame is a Final Fantasy XIV oc! i made her a few years ago and have played her in a couple of ttrpg's and an rp server alongside my baby Cota who i also might do a writeup for? idk. bear with me there'll be some terms here.

tl;dr she's a revolutionary biker bitch from the heart of the evil empire and the boss of a gang / rebel group. also she's trans 🏳️‍⚧️

she's an Au Ra (race of humans with scales on parts of their bodies, horns in place of ears, and a scaled tail) Raen (subrace with cream-y peach-y white scales and horns that hail from Thavnair (south Asian / Indian inspired region) or Hingashi (east Asian / Japanese inspired region)) born in Garlemald (the capital city of what is essentially the game's evil empire, located in a scenic snowy mountain wasteland) to immigrant parents, of course in a space that wasn't very kind to them.

she didn't have the best childhood in the empire, her family was poor and the empire isn't a very welcoming space for "savages" like them. it took everything they had to keep a roof over their heads and fuel in their heater. her dad worked a grueling job as a ceruleum miner (oil but blue, fuels magitech which is Garlemald's whole thing) and her mom did clerical work for the Legion, all while raising Shion and giving her the best education they can at home - she wasn't allowed into any schooling there.

she learned her basic math, reading, and writing in a common tongue, along with some amount of history of her homeland including old tales of auspices and yo-kai and kami and those who worshiped them. they lived together like this for a number of years - surviving and as happy as they could be - until her father was taken from her in a mining accident, where the brutal working conditions took his life.

following that, her mother was conscripted into the Legion, and Shion was left alone - soon after with no home.

she was around her early teens at that time, forced to live and survive on the street under the heel of an oppressive government and culture. stealing, getting into fights, run-ins with the Legion, doing all that she could to live to see the next day. learning just how clear the divide in Garlean society is first-hand, and coming to the conclusion that any civilization that could treat a child like this didn't deserve to exist - or at the very least needed to change.

a few years later, after gaining a reputation as a thorn in the Legion's side and someone that other unfortunate souls living under the yoke of the Empire don't want to fuck with... she finds herself in prison after getting caught trying to steal a gun from a Legionaire. oops! anyway, that's where she actually met two other women being kept there - a couple of disgraced legionnaires named Ophelle (conscientious objector) and Alaqa (friendly fire) who turned out to be very like-minded individuals.

They - along with a very sympathetic fourth person on the outside going by the name of Zarara - all break out together and go on to form an alliance that eventually blossoms into a whole organization!

they called themselves Suzaku's Angels - inspired by the stories Shion was told as a child, with each of the four representing an aspect of one of the Four Lords at the group's head - Suzaku specifically being a scarlet phoenix, a symbol of rebirth, a burning passion, and warmth to run counter to the cold of their mountain home. the Angels started small, but quickly grew to be about 100 in number, as an organized crime ring that was more of a combination of that and local mutual aid and community organizing / a sort of grassroots resistance movement.

basically think of them like a modernized Robin Hood troupe, stealing from the rich and powerful primarily to give to the underrepresented members of the community - homeless kids, poor people, immigrants and other racial minorities, those who oppose the Legion and who have been punished for it, abuse survivors, disabled people. they would do their best to do right by them by any means necessary.

at some point though, during one of their raids, Shion just so happens to kill a high ranking member of the Legion and she's forced to run away - with the help of her Angels, she's able to take her bike through the mountain pass and into neighboring nations where she becomes a roving bandit.. and still a hero to the downtrodden. the Legion's hands are everywhere, and everyone is at the mercy at that point in time (this was pre ARR)

as far as her personality goes, she's a bit abrasive but overall cheerful and welcoming! she greets everyone with a smile and a punch on the shoulder or a fist bump, a slightly gravely "heyyyyy!" and some crude nickname. she loves animals, kids, learning about people and their cultures, loves a good drink, can play bass, but the thing she loves doing most is mechanic work! she's a grease monkey, picked it up during her time in the magitech-centric capital and took to it like a fish to water - even devising an alternative fuel source for her bike!

though she's a ranger in combat, she's also known to be very light on her feet and to have a NASTY right hook, but aside from those she's a rather wise individual and an inspiring leader - though she doesn't ever really see herself as a leader. all of her sisters are equal in her eyes, they all lean on one another, and she thinks the same in any ither group she finds herself in.

she's also VERY anti-authoritarian, and unfortunately she can be quick to anger if you push her buttons in just the wrong order, and she can be quite headstrong in her beliefs. which is why she got in trouble a number of times in the servers where i played her - and other people decided to play a legionnaire and a cop lmao

[prorevmakeouts]

im considering my other set of OCs today

MISS rhys (no relation) and lee they are like. well budget blake / eve i suppose rhys kind of has blakes body type but eves personality while lee is the opposite. but this is just me having types and i do not accept criticism for this

lee is likeeee super buff with Some fat while rhys is a scrawny little guy... lee tries 2 get her to work out with her but rhys is a noodle-armed little emo girl she would not thrive in a gymbro environment.

lee has a more Chill personality rhys is very high strung. theyre in a band together lee is the drummer and rhys is the rhythm guitar / singer / manager who constantly bosses the Official manager around / marketing guy / PR guy. lee is kind of just along for the ride she didn't even play percussion before rhys started the band she learned it specifically for her. just kind of goes with whatever life throws at her even if that involves now being in an insanely popular alt band

theyre both furries also but Can be human in my mind world (im bad at drawing humans. this is the only reason theyre furries lol) lee is a leucistic spotted hyena and rhys is a brown mutt doggy... lees got some tattoos while rhys likes to dye her fur/hair different colors and takes the showmanship / performance aspect of her job Very seriously. lee just wears ratty wifebeaters and cargo shorts on stage

and of Course they fuck bc this is the entire point of any story i have ever written the "themes" and "message" and "plot" all exist to lead to 2 women fucking. every single time. i cannot change my heart. rhys is basically the exclusive "top" cause her mindset in all things is Check This Off My List Get Shit Done with a sort of intensity to the Finish This Task part even if she does love lee. but shes also impulsive enough to simply initiate WAYYY more than lee does and again, lee just Goes with whatever shes chill like that. she does enjoy it but just doesnt get the chance to initiate often because it's either not the right Vibe or rhys has already beaten her to it. or shes just lazy tbh thats the main reason they don't typically do mutual shit: plus their size difference (lee is tall and beefy while rhys is shorter and scrawny) makes that difficult. lee Would occasionally initiate i think but as a like Special Treat i think rhys also has some insecurity that leads to her not wanting to "bottom" as often (:[)

i say top and bottom in quotes bc i dont rlly think those terms make as much sense for lesbians but when i say "top" i mean "the one eating out / strapping / fingering the other one" for Clarity's sake. and again they dont tend to do mutual shit like scissoring or any of the other hundreds of possible options bc 1. lee is kind of lazy and won't bring it up unprompted and 2. size difference makes it difficult. lee is scared of hurting her lol. also i dont find that shit as hot Sorry i like there 2 be focus on One Person At A Time

their story takes place in a time generally analogous to 90s-2000s usa (though its NOT just normal usa like in sanctuary this is a different Location bc its easier to justify the furry shit that way) erm lots of typical homophobia especially in their Scene and theyre also dealing with not being taken as Seriously by peers and critics as an all-female band with a Very eccentric and gnc frontwoman. lee has slightly Less internalized shit than rhys i think but she still wants to stay closeted just so she doesn't have to deal with the media circus, rhys has Internalized shit where she hates being gay so so badly and wants to stay closeted as to not negatively impact her career. internalized shit leads to things like randomly crying during sex, flipping into emotional coldness on a switch, not wanting to be seen around lee in public but then Also having a freakout because she misses her and has separation anxiety, "i hate myself for liking you too much" shit, etc. i think she gets over it eventually though especially when their band goes on hiatus and she learns to focus more on what she Actually wants to do as an artist instead of maximizing her reach (not necessarily sanitizing herself... she does wild shit for attention all the time, including being openly supportive of gay people which is why she gets the gay accusations thrown at her to begin with. she just doesnt want to be ACTUALLY out because its too personal: the eccentric way she behaves on stage is a persona, and coming out for real would weaken the divide between Stage Rhys and Real Rhys which is scary for her). also on said hiatus lee is basically an unemployed bum living off of savings she had from when the band was super popular and selling out venues selling out of CDs etc. but it also gives them time to have a more Normal relationship since theyre out of the spotlight (well. not FULLY out of the spotlight because the media and fans dont just forget about shit like that, but theyre under less scrutiny). moving in together etc etc. and they can fuck more 👍

[noidretina]

Okay, so I need to rant for a moment. I'm near certain this is gonna be another one of my posts that gets 0 notes, but I don't care. I just... need to get this out of me. So let's start this short and simple: I am going to die of overwork working for base pay. I give every day everything I have despite working in an environment so unforgiving and without any chance of ever getting any more than base fucking pay. Why do I put in so much effort? I honestly don't know. It has to be due to some encoding remnants of my childhood. That doesn't matter. What matters is how fucking inhumane the standards at my job are. I work my ass off day in and day out. Emotional labor, heavy lifting, preparing food, convoluted cleaning processes for machines and so on. That's my responsibilities. All in one job. I knew that walking into the job. It's honestly not all that bad once you actually know how to do everything. Or at least, it wasn't all that bad. As time went on, more and more responsibilities were piled on me. It's come to the point where I can not complete all of the responsibilities regularly. And they're still piling more on me. Every time I miss something, I get bitched at. I say I don't have time and they don't give a shit. Every time I do something wrong, it's because I wasn't taught how to do it. And they tell me I should already know. So either I do something wrong and get bitched at, or I don't do it and get bitched at. Tell me how that's going to solve anything. Go on. I'll wait. Who the hell am I talking to anyway I do so much for this job to the point where I walk out exhausted and out of breath. I don't get a raise, I don't get 'employee of the month,' I don't get recognition, I don't even get a 'thank you.' I get a 'you did this wrong, you missed this, oh, and here's this new thing we need you to do.' I am stretched far too thin and no one realizes how inhumane these standards are. I am at my human limit and they expect more from me - and for base pay, too. The justification for such inhumane standards? I work the overnight shift. And overnight shift gets less customer traffic. *sigh* I can't do 12 hours of work in 8 hours, with or without customers. Like, I'm sorry for being a fucking human being with human fucking limits. Be realistic with your expectations for fucks sake. The manager speaks in a very 'I am above you and you are nothing more than an asset' kind of way and gives me shit over something I had no realistic way of knowing. By the time I was being reprimanded, I was already well out of breath, and anyone with half a fucking braincell would give me the fucking time of day. But no, my own fucking boss gave me a stern reprimand because I wasn't trained properly. I got home today tired as all hell, hobbled into my tiny little apartment with sores and cramps and one hell of a pissy attitude. I'm not the type of person to get mad in front of others, so no one even knows how pissed I am right now, but I am at my fucking limit. Now, on the off chance someone actually read this far, you're probably thinking that I should either quit or contact HR. Both are decent ideas, to be fair. Contacting HR sounds like a great way to force realism down their inhumane throats. However, they're managers. There's always corruption in this fucking world, and I have little doubt that HR has biases towards the people in power. I'm just your basic fucking employee that, in most people's eyes, 'is making a big deal out of nothing.' Quitting is another thing. I'll likely be moving in just a few months, so it'd be kinda risky to go job hunting when I'll need to qualify for income pretty soon. Transferring to a different store of the same chain is an option, but getting a consistent workweek with livable hours is its own challenge. I'm stuck in this fucking rut of fuck all and fuck you and fucking hell. I hate everything. I am so tired in so many different ways. I don't know if I want to die or if I am currently dying. I just want to be treated like a fucking human being. Apparently that's asking too much.

And this is just work I'm talking about. There are other things in my life that can, and do, stress me out. Every single life out there, my oppressive managers included, have convoluted lives. The least anyone can do is treat them like a fucking person. But I guess kindness is rare nowadays. I don't fucking know anymore. I'm gonna wake up tomorrow sore as hell and I still have to deal with this fucking shit and the shit in the rest of my life. Fucking hell.

I think I've said everything. I know I really haven't filtered anything in this post, but clearly it's been a long day for me. I doubt anyone's read this far, but if you have, thank you for your time.

[andromedagarcia]

‘It is, indeed.’ A recruitment offer. Human resources, knocking right at your door, smelling of exotic spices and flowers and handing you a gift; burgundy and black, the color of dahlias, of course, but also of a severed head on a plate, of internal bleeding, of bruises on one’s skin.

The three siblings had a tendency. A habit they all shared, like their black curls – it didn’t matter if Cass dyed them blonde or if Andrómeda straightened them every single day of her life – and their crooked smiles, higher on one side of their faces than on the other. This habit of theirs revealed how nervous they truly were, the turmoil going on behind steady voices and unaffected expressions and it consisted on using their fingers to draw shapes, to write the words that left their mouths in surfaces. Like little notes they left behind. Only instead of Andrómeda was here what it read was You don’t really expect me to reveal all the aces up my sleeve… the words she was saying now, out loud. Was he able to tell? Able to hear the almost inaudible sound of her index finger writing her speech on top of the bed sheets? How her half smile had faltered slightly, before recomposing, when he had moved towards his desk to put some distance between them? She had then, taken a seat on the bed, knowing these kind of things took nine parts acting and… one part acting, honestly, and she would feel more comfortable if she treated his room for what it really was; hers.

She wasn’t a visiting team playing in the competitor’s stadium. Everything was hers.

‘You don’t really expect me to reveal all the aces up my sleeve, do you? I guess, you will have to follow your instincts with this one.’ Her voice; unyielding, a sultry tone to it. She couldn’t really look at him a certain way; he couldn’t see her, after all. It was for the better. He might have been able to perceive the slight hesitation, the fact that she wasn’t as strong as she made herself to be. But again, she was an actress on stage and if Fernando García had inculcated something in his eldest daughter it was four words: Get the job done. ‘All I can tell you is,’ A pause, to create expectancy. ‘You might be out of employment really soon if you don’t decide fast where your loyalties lay, Soma.’ His name, like a caress, slightly elongating the s sound, like the hissing sound of a serpent coiling up around its prey, getting their hooks in them. ‘Plus, you’re entertaining the possibility already. Or is there any other reason as to why you haven’t kicked me out, yet? There’s a certain interest in my offer, I can tell, or… perhaps it is that you just want me to touch you again?’ His little speech impressed her. Left her breathless, for a second or two. She memorized it; she would think about it later on, squeezing the meaning out of every. Single. Word. But now she needed to act fast, puncture the skin with her fangs and inject the poison. Or, maybe, would it be better if she…? No, she couldn’t afford any hesitation. What am I worth to you. ‘What are you worth to me?’ Gaining time, seeing what was that she could answer. What words could she say to convince him. She felt like sobbing, but she kept her cool. Get the job fucking done. Honesty, as the best policy.

'Right now, you are worth my entire life. Or, life as I know it, at the very least.' Was this baring too much? Maybe. But the daughter of El Señor de la Droga, the person she called papá, had never known privacy, not even for a single day of her life, so it wasn't like she could miss it.

Selling her feelings was little different of selling her body.

Now, she regretted the comment about not showing him the aces up her sleeve. Keeping her cards up close would do no good, not here. 'I want the same thing as everyone else. For my future to not be dictated by the actions of other people.'

'What if this wasn't a recruitment offer? But instead... a pitch. For a collaboration. Don't think of me as Andrómeda, your boss' wife. Think of me as Andrómeda, your equal. Let's work together. Let this really be our team.'

And again, unsaid words. Trust me. Please, trust me.

@somatheking

Soma's expression didn't change throughout her speech, despite his surprise at Andrómeda's bluntness. Here she was, freely admitting she was aware of 'something in motion' and asking him to be on her team. Daring, really. If he wanted to remain loyal to Hatter and turn her offer down, she’d be on his sights now, so she either didn’t care about that, or simply assumed he was going to accept whatever she was offering. Both being attitudes shared between arrogant fools and people hiding an ace up their sleeve, and it was up to him to find out which one it was.

“On your team?” he said, tilting his chin slightly upwards. Fortunately for him, this was the second time someone had thought the best way to persuade him would be by enticing him with their touch, so he was able to remain unperturbed. Stony, glassy eyes fixed on her, his lips curved into a smile that had turned from amiable to taunting; he regarded her with interest. “In that case, this isn’t a wish. It’s a recruitment offer.”

“So,” he started, clapping his hands once and walking to his desk to half-sit, half-lean on it, if only to put some distance between them so he could think clearly, “recruit me, then. Who’s on ‘your’ team? Who’s the other team? What advantages does our team offer?”

He wanted to gauge how much she actually knew, and how much was a bluff on her behalf. She’d mentioned ‘something in motion’ and ‘her team’, but never once mentioning Hatter, and it might be because she wasn’t actually aware of what was happening and wanted to trick him into confirming her suspicions. However, Soma had been in the game for long enough to spot potential traps like that, and if she truly wanted to get any information out of him, she was going to have to try a little harder than that.

“All in all, I don’t know you. I’ve never worked for you, not really. I’ve done things for you, yes, and possibly more than you’re aware of, but always through Hatter or other intermediaries. I don’t know how much you value loyalty, I don’t know what or whom you’re willing to sacrifice, and as it happens, I’ve been told I look good in many different colours, so I don’t really care if I wear blue, green or burgundy and black like your flowers. Ultimately, Andrómeda, I just have one last question to make.”

“What am I worth to you?”

@andromedagarcia

[redrreign]

but god imagine being free of the crushing hell that is customer service. just for alittle while. just a little bit .

[dycefic]

Have An Evil Day

No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’

Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.

But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.

I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it.  They didn’t give me any trouble.

I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.

I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.

We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.

I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.

And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.

“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.�� That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”

He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.

“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”

He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”

“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”

“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”

He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”

“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”

He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.

About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”

Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”

“Biohazard.”

“Oh. Class three?”

“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”

He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”

“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”

He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”

I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.

We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.

I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)

By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.

“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”

“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”

“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”

“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.

“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”

“Sir, I know you’re not – “

“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”

I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”

Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”

Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”

I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”

“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”

I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”

“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”

“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.

“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”

Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”

“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”

I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.

It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”

Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”

Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”

“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”

“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”

Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”

“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”

He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”

“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”

He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”

“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.

I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”

“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”

Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”

Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.

She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”

Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”

“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”

He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”

“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”

Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”

“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”

“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.

“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”

“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”

He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”

“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”

Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”

“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”

Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”

He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”

We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”

He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”

“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”

“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”

“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”

“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”

“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”

“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”

His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”

There was a long pause.

“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.

“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”

We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”

“You want me to join the bad guys?”

“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”

“That’s a regular concern?”

“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”

“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”

“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “

Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”

“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”

Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.

Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.

But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.

Have an evil day!

[bixbythemartian]

I wanna tell y’all what happened in our tabletop game last night but to do it right I have to give a bit of context, so.

We’re playing Blue Planet, which is a future space game where you’re playing on world called Poseidon, which is much more water based than Earth. It’s an earth colony, and one of the things about this environment is that some cetaceans have been ‘uplifted’ and, with the use of mods and drones, can communicate easily with humans. You get killer whales who can hack computers, that kind of thing. It’s shadowrun-esque except there’s no magic (some characters have, like, ESP but that’s the limit). There’s all kindsa genetically modified humanoids. Our team has a doctor who’s a cat person and two ‘squiddies’, humanoids who are adapted to swim and have gills and so on. The only actual baseline human is our resident murder hobo.

Sections of the planet are corporate run, the government is almost entirely run through corporate.

My character is a bottlenose dolphin (I don’t remember whether or not bottlenose are actually some of the uplifted dolphin species but neither me nor my dm care) named Livya- I don’t remember her last name off the top of my head but she specifically gave herself a first name last name because she thought humanoids would find it more relatable.

I am gonna put a cut in here because this got super long but I really just want to write this all down

She’s a high level employee in the dolphin-run corporation, which is... basically the least evil one to work for. And again, this is not just a business, but also a government- she’s done a lot of translation and ambassador work. she’s a paper pusher, she does languages, she’s really good at her job.

the start of the game she was helping with a public outreach program to treat a disease common to anybody who lives most of their life in the water, and then someone blew up the building she was in and dropped it on top of her. She got evacced with two water adapted humanoids, a cat, an npc killer whale named Jet who is almost entirely jet black, and the aforementioned murder hobo. 

now I want to remind you that she is basically a high level paper pusher. she’s really good at her job! but there is nothing about her life that has prepared her to be launched into an intrigue plot in outer space. she knows what forms they need to fill out- but she can’t pilot, she doesn’t even have any of her drones with her (which are all specialized to communication). she doesn’t know anything worth knowing, even, she’s reliable and gets her reports returned on time and is pretty good at, like, translation work and getting people shuffled around where they need to go and, like, logistics of keeping buildings going and stuff like that.

but the game basically turned into a star trek away mission, where they got conclusive proof of ancient alien technology, as well as proof of a plot by a rival corp that is trying to steal their find and murder them all to death. and she’s just a dolphin who knows languages and is good at talking to people! she can requisition you supplies! she doesn’t know how to fly spaceships or deal with people who want to murder you when there’s not a marshall to bring in!

she was given, by the Boss (who is, essentially, the president, and also a dolphin) a drone named Good Boy. Good Boy is, by all appearances, a Black Lab, but he’s essentially a terminator dog- a skeleton made of heavy, durable metal under a fleshy exterior. He does have an autonomous mode- she can set him to go do things on his own- but she can also ride inside him.

(Like riggers from Shadowrun- she doesn’t have much in the tech side of things, other than what she needs to do her job, with the exception of running drones- because she uses drones a lot.)

They’ve been in space for weeks and she’s now got, inside her head, some of the most valuable information in the fucking galaxy, she’s way out of her depth and extremely aware of it.

With all that context, here’s the situation coming into last night- their ship, the Tillikum (yes, named for that specific Killer Whale by the DM, but tbh I can 100% see some future dolphin ceo ordering the commissioning of a ship by that name) has been attacked and damaged by another incorporate, who’s desperate to get the extremely valuable information they have. Their only chance to get the ship repaired enough to leave is to take the nearby base out of commission. The base is on a low gravity (very low g) moon with no atmosphere to speak of.

This is not the A squad. This isn’t even the B-squad. This is ‘well it’s this or sit here and wait for either our oxygen to run out or for them to blow us to smithereens’ squad. We’re poorly equipped but we gotta do something.

So our pilot took one of the stealth shuttles we completely stole from this incoporate from one of our previous raids on the ship and kinda accidentally dropped it through the barracks (he intended to land on top).

Fortunately for us, it depressurized the barracks and took a lot of their man power out in one fell swoop, but there’s an underground base with people hiding who were running drones.

Our hacker, Churro (a heavily tattooed orca) brought his hacking drone constellation, and Livya brought Good Boy, who does not require oxygen. The only weapons this drone has is teeth- if you don’t know that this is a drone, he looks like a black lab.

Churro grabbed their shuttle, which was attempting to flee- he hacked it and seized control. When they started trying to disable the ship, he just started shaking it violently back and forth and may actually blow the doors and start shaking them out (like the last penny in an oddly shaped jar).

Livya, inside Good Boy, broke into a machine shed, broke the knee on a four-legged walker drone, and headed down further into the base where she discovered a much larger base indeed. She knows she needs to take the drones out, and she’s gonna go to the source- the drone operators.

But it’s a maze of a base. So I ask the DM ‘hey, this is a place- it’s gotta be like a hospital or something, where there’s writing on the wall and lines leading places and so on. Is there any indication of that here?’

he goes ‘yeah, but it’s all in-’ and he stopped and looked at me. ‘you speak German.’

Yeah, Livya knows several languages, German is one of them.

And so he gave me a list, and I was like okay hang on, can I do a beaurocracy roll to figure out where the likeliest place the drone operators would be? from the perspective of I’ve probably seen plans for and requisitioned supplies for a base like this, and probably have some idea of where the drone op would be set up, this is me using my base knowledge as a corporate dingus to figure this out- one of my best skills.

Probably one of my favorite things to do as a player is to use the thing my character is good at in a way the DM didn’t expect but is absolutely valid. He knows I am going to succeed in some level on this roll- while it’s theoretically possible for me to fail it, it’s pretty unlikely- and he also knows that I have got every reason to approach it from this direction.

So he’s like- yeah, and I find them- and they are all humanoids. And like my dolphin self- which is like a quarter of a mile away from the drone- they are fully immersed.

They can’t hear the room they’re in, or perceive it in any meaningful way, they are jacked into various drones that are doing their level best to turn my friends into greasy red smears.

Good Boy has. Extremely sharp. Teeth. It is the only weapon on the drone but in a room full of helpless, fleshy humanoids- you don’t need much else.

anyway I like to imagine that their internal group chat (because they’re all on the comms in a way that combines voice and visual images and chat) looked something like this

Livya: hey I found the drone operators

Livya:

[bostongirl13]

Mentally tired

A/N: The story is based on my personal experiences from a few days ago. Even though I didn't have a person like Chris in my fanfiction, I still have a lovely friend who helped me. Please do not let anyone ever bring you to this state, because no matter what others say or do, YOU are the most important, YOUR mental and physical health is the most important and it is not subject to discussion. So remember that if something disturbs your well-being, cut yourself off from it if possible. Health is very important and nothing can replace it.

Summary: You always considered yourself a mentally strong person, but suddenly someone managed to break you in a way you didn't think you could. For the first time in your life you felt so many things at once and you were powerless, there was nothing you could do. Fortunately, there was someone in your life who, although only hugged you, made you feel that you had a place in this world.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: AGE GAP, angst, anxiety, depression state, fluff and happy end, mistakes

 Masterlist

There's a kind of tired that needs a good night's sleep, and another that needs so much more. It’s like a certain level of tiredness that equates to insanity. You always considered yourself a mentally strong person. Hardly anything upset you, made you cry from a feeling of helplessness or simply mental exhaustion. However, on that one day, in which very little happened, your strong psyche was broken. For the first time in your life, you felt that you were powerless and mentally exhausted. 

You finished work late and tired as usual. All day on high brats, in a constant run and only half an hour to eat breakfast. A job that required so much of you was not the height of your dreams, but the fact that you needed money did not give you much choice. You had to accept what you had.

The air was sweet, the weather was fine even if there were clouds in the sky and you could feel the wind on your skin. You got in your car and turned on the radio. You should be on your way home, but suddenly someone flips a button in your head. You burst into desperate crying without knowing where you had so many accumulated emotions that led you to such a state. Tears ran down your cheeks, your hands clenched on the steering wheel until the knuckles on your palms turned white. Your lungs were running out of air, and your open mouth let out a silent scream that you wanted someone to hear, come and take what you felt.

You took your phone out of your purse and, with shaking hands, eyes still blurry with tears, you wrote a short message to the only person who knew he would be able to help you, or at least you hoped so.

"I can call?"

After a while, you received an answer: "Of course, Princess"

You pressed the button and after a few chimps, you heard Chris's voice.

"What's up? Everything's okay?"

You were silent for a moment and tried to control yourself, but it didn't help you, because the moment you opened your mouth to say something, another wave of tears flooded your mouth.

"I can't anymore, I don't want to work here. It's the first time I'm so mentally tired ... I ... I ..." you didn't even know if your gibberish and cry made Chris understand anything. “I…I'm so tired"

"Hey, take it easy. What's wrong, Y / N?" Chris immediately started to panic, he wanted to be next to you and beat everyone who made you cry so hard.

"Work. I can't work here anymore. Still, someone wants something, they move me from place to place, they treat me like a parasite, and the worst thing is that because of the number of fucked up rules, I have a headache" you cried all the time, unable to calm down "I eat breakfast on the run or not at all. Everybody expects me to do my 100% as if I've been working there for years. Nobody takes into account that I'm learning everything and I'm new here” you were crying on the phone.

"I know it probably won't work, but try to calm down. And tell me where you are, I'll come to get you."

"I'm trying, but I can't" you sniffed trying to breathe evenly and stop crying "You don't have to. I'm in the car and ...."

"Then take a few deep breaths and come to my place. I live closer and I won't let you be alone today. Not like that." he says firmly. You knew that a discussion with him would be useless because he was able to come to you, pack you and bring you to his home.

"Ok"

"Ok?"

"Yes, I'll be there in 20 minutes," you said and after a few words of comfort you hung up.

Even though you tried to stop crying, you couldn't. Salty drops ran down your cheeks whole way to Chris's house.

When you got there Chris was waiting for you with Dodger. You felt embarrassed showing yourself in this state and uncomfortable, but you still needed someone by your side.

"Oh my god, Y / N" Chris immediately hugged you to him, and you burst into a hysterical cry again.

"Please calm down. Everything will be fine. I promise." You knew Chris was trying to comfort you, but it was not successful. The tears kept rolling down your cheeks and soaking his T-shirt.

After a few minutes, you went inside where Chris gave you his hoodie and told you to go take a warm bath or shower. At first, you didn't want to cause him trouble, after all, you were just friends with a big age difference, and you didn't feel comfortable roaming his house like that. He, however, didn't mind and practically pushed you into the bathroom and went to order some take-out.

As soon as you got in the shower, you sat down on the floor and let the water wash off you all day. You didn't even know how long you've been sitting in the bathroom until Chris knocked to ask if you were okay.

"Yes" you yelled to him and grabbed a bottle of shampoo and shower gel to get a quick wash, then put on Chris clothes and went to the living room.

"I didn't know what you wanted, so I ordered pizzas and Korean food. I remember how you used to say it was your favorite, but if you wanted something less spicy ..."

"You didn't have to" you interrupted him seeing how embarrassed he was because of such tinsel as eating. "Thank you", you smiled and kissed his cheek, and then you sat down next to him.

Chris froze at your gesture and it took him a few moments to get back to reality. He looked at you in his clothes, you looked cute in his oversized hoodie.

You ate practically in silence, except for the TV's on and the Dodger's soft snoring. You were no longer crying, but still feeling mentally tired. You didn't have the strength to go home or to work tomorrow. You wanted to run away somewhere where no one would find you. And so far that place has been Chris's house and the Korean food you chose.

"I don't know how you can eat something like this!" you burst out laughing as Chris drank a glass of water in one breath, "This is fucking hot"

"Not for me," you said, taking a piece of hot chicken to your mouth.

After you finished your meal, you sat down comfortably on the couch and played a movie. You covered yourself with a blanket and slumped slightly on the couch, pulling your knees up. You saw Chris want to ask you something, but he doesn't know how to do it.

"Bosses are assholes, and the amount of work you have to do in a short time is impossible to get done. Besides, there are no human conditions to eat a meal and the constant noise and crowds ..." you paused for a moment to wipe the tear flowing down your cheek "I can't explain it, just a red lamp lights up in my head and someone screams run, but I can't because I don't know where the exit is. I feel, I know I'm trapped and .. . "you started crying again.

You felt strong arms press you against the hard chest of the body to which they belong. You immediately hugged Chris and closed your eyes. And how by a magic wand you started to calm down. He stroked your hair holding his cheek against your head. When you got up and looked at Chris's blue irises, you felt very calm and safe. You didn't know what it is about him that makes your body relax when he touches you.

Chris placed his hands on your cheeks and wiped away your tears. You felt as if you were enchanted, but at the same time, they were doing what your heart and mind told you as if you still had full control over your actions. You bet your lower lip as your gaze traveled from Chris's to his lips and back to his eyes. And then you felt his lips on yours.

In that kiss was the sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment. His kiss is not at all the same as those you had before, but one steeped in a passion that ignites. It is the promise of realness, of the primal desire that lives in us all. You threw your arms around his neck and dragged him along. Chris didn't protest. He propped himself up on one elbow so as not to crush you with the weight of his body, and he rested his other hand on your cheek. In that moment of the kiss, you were in each other’s protective cocoon.

You felt his tongue gently move over your lip, subtly pleading for entry. You parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He took his time, slowly revealing every nook and cranny of your lips and letting your tongues dance at an unhurried beat. Your hands moved you from his neck to his hair, tangling your fingers in brown curls. Chris growled and moved his hand to your thigh, throwing your leg over his hip, then carefully placed his body on yours.

The feeling that accompanied it all was incomparable to anything else. It felt like you were just getting to know the world as a little child.

When you pulled away from each other to catch your breath, you couldn't take your eyes off you. Each of you has been examining the face of the other, trying to read feelings and thoughts.

Chris touched your swollen lips with his thumb and smiled slightly at which you smiled back.

"You are so beautiful when you smile. I don't want that smile to fade from your face. Never," he whispered.

Your cheeks turned red, you could tell by the warmth you felt on your face. But even so, you found enough confidence to answer him unequivocally.

"So don't let me be sad"

After these words, Chris's lips were on yours again.

tags:   @patzammit @ivettt​ @mostannoyingbillioner @speechlessxx​ @angrybirdcr​ @ozarkthedog​​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @sweetflowerdreams​ @worksby-d 

[dilfgmancoolatta]

can yuo write angsty freelatta........-benryphobic

@benryphobic

Gordon looks down at the half-eaten pizza, his appetite almost completely gone. He was initially suspicious of it- as much as he trusted Tommy, he had no idea what Mr. Coolatta’s intentions were. But after seeing everyone else dig in (well, everyone who had made it out of the boss battle alive), he let himself give in. It was horrible, but horrible in the way that most Chuck E. Cheese pizza generally is. Mr. Coolatta pulled out all the stops for this one, huh?

He sighs, gently nudging his paper plate away. He’s not really sure what to do. He doubts Mr. Coolatta would react well to being asked when they could leave- he seems really protective of his son.

Gordon decides to get some fresh air. Quietly pushing in his chair, he sneaks away from the group, Mr. Coolatta and Bubby seemingly distracting by a story Dr. Coomer was telling from the Engineering department.

He breathes a sigh of relief once the door closes behind him. He looks up at the sky as he slides down the wall. It’s strikingly beautiful, yet chilling. It’s a sky Gordon’s never seen before, with a large spiral galaxy, that definitely wasn’t the Milky Way, taking up much of it. Planets upon planets and stars upon stars that Gordon couldn’t recognize.

“That’s Andromeda o- up there, by the way.”

Gordon jolts, feeling his heart rate spike, before laughing. “Tommy, don’t scare me like that, man. Kinda still on edge.”

“Oh-” Tommy covers his mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Freeman, I thought you knew I was out here.”

Gordon waves him off. “It’s not a big deal. Just- Thought I should let you know.” Tommy nods. “Andromeda’s a lot bigger than I remember.”

“Mmhm! I told my dad once that Andromeda w- is my favorite galaxy. And after that, he always made sure Andromeda was the biggest thing in the night sky in his pocket dimensions.”

“That’s… honestly pretty sweet.”

Tommy nods, sitting down next to Gordon. “My Dad’s a good guy, even if he is pretty weird sometimes. Though I guess I can’t talk.”

“I don’t think you’re weird, Tommy.”

Tommy looks at him in disbelief.

“Mr. Freeman, I wouldn’t be so sure-”

“Listen, we’ve got a lab grown human, a man who’s been cloned, like, 1000 times, and then there’s you. I don’t think the identity of your dad makes you weird.”

Tommy looks like he wants to say something, but seemingly decides against it. Instead, he decides on a simple “Thank you.”

The two sit in silence for a few moments, staring up into the night sky.

“Did something happen at the party?” Tommy asks. “I hope my dad wasn’t being weird about the Chuck E. Cheese debate-thing.”

Gordon shakes his head. “No, I just needed some fresh air. Gordon sensory overload time was coming up, I could feel it. Wasn’t that hungry either.”

Tommy nods. “I understand. That… happens to me too. The only reason I could handle the arcade inside is because my dad makes the machines quieter-” He frowns and scrunches his nose. “But you don’t want to hear about all that.” He waves him off.

And there it is.

It’s a pattern Gordon’s noticed throughout their time in Black Mesa. Every time Tommy seemed like he was about to express any negative emotion, he’d change the subject and say something about Gordon not wanting to hear it.

So he takes a chance.

“But what if I do want to hear it?”

That wasn’t the answer Tommy seemed to be expecting.

“I mean- there’s not much more to it. It’s just me not e- liking loud noises. Nothing all that interesting.”

“It’s not about it being interesting, Tommy. You don’t have to dismiss your own feelings.” Tommy looks at him, his eyebrows furrowed in an unsure look. “You’ve been, like, my emotional rock throughout Black Mesa. You’ve gotta let me return the favor.”

“I d- really don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“Why would I?”

Tommy looks away from Gordon. “I’ve learned from experience, Mr. Freeman. There isn’t r- any way for someone like me to be upset without being treated like a child throwing a tantrum. And then they talk about you like you’re not even in the room-”

Oh.

Unfortunately, the experience is all-too-familiar to Gordon.

“I’ve gotten the same shit- it’s awful.”

“You... have? I never thought that of you- I mean, anyone in your situation might- would be a little on edge.”

“I mean, even before the Black Mesa incident. People would either use kiddie gloves around me or flat out tell me I was overreacting whenever I was slightly upset. So I do somewhat get it, and you don’t need to expect anything like that from me.”

Tommy nods, a small smile beginning to form. It’s a very nice smile- No, Gordon, now is not the time for gay thoughts.

“And I know I shouldn’t have let them win, and I really did try to not give in, but it just got so ti- exhausting going to work everyday with people who saw you as an overgrown child.” Tommy brings his knees to his chest and rests his head on them.

“I mean, I don’t think you ‘should’ have done anything in that situation.” Gordon shrugs. “I don’t think making a statement is worth more than making things bearable for you. It’s not your job to ‘show them who’s boss’.”

“Mm,” Tommy hums, taking his right arm off of his legs and putting it in between them. “It just doesn’t sit right with me that I ba- essentially taught them that that behavior works.”

Gordon gives his hand a comforting squeeze. “You didn’t teach them anything. They were shitty people to begin with, and even if you refused to ‘give in’, I doubt they would’ve changed their minds. You just would’ve been even more miserable.” He feels Tommy shift his hand so their fingers are intertwined. Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush- “If you don’t mind me asking, couldn’t you have told your dad about it? He doesn’t seem like the type to let that slide.”

Tommy shakes his head. “He’s not, but…” he trails off. “Listen, my dads a go- great guy. If I had told him about how I was being treated at work he probably would’ve… either got them fired, at the very least, or have locked them in a void for who knows how long to ‘teach them a lesson’.” Gordon can’t tell if that’s a joke or not- from what little he knows about Mr. Coolatta, it probably isn’t. “But I’m a 37 year old man. My dad wants to protect me from the world, and I don’t really blame him for that, but I need to fight my own battles. I’m not going to be the kind of person that calls their dad at the first sign of danger.”

Gordon nods, brushing his thumb across Tommy’s hand. He understands where Tommy’s coming from. As a father himself, it’s been very hard to ignore his immediate impulse to protect Joshua from anything that could potentially harm him. He can’t imagine what it’ll be like a few years from now when there are dangers Gordon couldn’t protect Josh from even if he did try. “I can’t blame you for that. But I hope that line of logic hasn’t lead to you refusing to ask anyone else for help.”

“Well…”

“Tommy.”

“I’m gonna start trying to change that behavior, I swear!” Tommy laughs, doing an ‘x’ sign over his heart.

“Besides, considering the whole Resonance Cascade thing, I doubt your shitty ex-coworkers will be able to be shitty to anyone else.”

Tommy laughs, shaking his head. “You’re right about that, Mr. Freeman-”

“You can call me Gordon, you know.”

“I- Are you sure?”

“I think, after everything we’ve been through together, we’re well past the awkward coworkers stage of friendship.”

“I mean, if you’re sure about that… Gordon.” Never before had hearing his name filled him with more joy. “But… I don’t know. It’s st- silly, but I still feel bad that they died? Even though they were awful to me.”

Gordon shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s silly at all, man. Feelings are really fucking complicated- Not to mention you’re probably not mourning them specifically, just the fact that people died. You’ve got a big heart, there’s nothing silly or stupid about it.”

“You do too, M- Gordon. You’re a very kind person.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, both of them red as a beet.

“I think…” Gordon gulps, hoping how flustered he is isn’t that obvious. “I think I’m ready to go back inside.”

Tommy nods, standing up and pulling Gordon up with him. They both turn their heads to look inside the Chuck E. Cheese, seeing Mr. Coolatta somehow playing a perfect game of Skee-ball while Dr. Coomer and Bubby cheer on. Gordon looks at their hands, still intertwined, then back up to Tommy.

“C’mon, before the pizza gets cold.” Gordon opens the door with his shoulder, grinning at Tommy.

Tommy follows him in, and the Birthday Party At The End of the World continues on.

[yourmcu]

Emotional Support Mode

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary:

in which the reader is the loner, antisocial daughter of Tony Stark and the other Avengers including her father never acknowledge her presence (they thought some sort of interaction made you uncomfortable) so she becomes friends with Friday instead - Tony probs finds out and it’s gonna be all cute n fluffie once he realizes -

Word count: 2,243

a/n: hi just wanted to write fluffy tony :)) also I used they/them for friday’s pronouns

Warnings: angst n fluff, friday’s a bit more advanced (not like they aren’t already but) bc they could almost act like a literal human here.

read it on ao3!

You arrive back at the Avengers facility, shoulders slumped and just tired in general since you have a lot of homework and projects to do from school, most of them due by the end of the week. You also have exams later in the week.

“Hey, Fri,” you huff as you make your way to the elevator.

“Welcome home, Y/N. Where do you want to go?”

Yes, you're very close with the A.I that they started calling you by your first name. “To my room - and uh, will you remind me to read two chapters in my history book after I’m done with all my homework? I also have this project, I just need some measurements later, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night, you sigh heavily just thinking about it. Now you’re probably wondering, ‘you live with the Avengers! Why don’t you ask Tony and Bruce for help? Maybe Steve and Bucky for your History test?’

Yeah, well... you barely talk to any real person you live with. Maybe it’s you, you always thought you're making the team uncomfortable. You don’t even talk to your own father often which is kind of depressing on your part.

You love them, they’re like your extended family, but it just isn’t working out. Maybe they just don’t like you. Up to this day you still wonder why Tony took you in when you were just a baby (you were a mistake from one of his one night stands) - he had the choice not to.

“I’m assuming you zoned out again. You have arrived to your room five minutes ago.” Friday announces.

“Y-yeah sorry,” you shuffle out of the elevator and swiftly head to your bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“I also asked if I should inform Mr. Stark that you have arrived home.”

“No, no thanks. He’s busy and... probably wouldn’t care anyway,” You mutter the last part as you pile the books you need on your desk. “Can you put my study playlist on, please?”

----

“What time is it, Friday?”

“7PM. I was about to remind you to take a break.”

You get up from your chair and stretch, halfway through the last of your homework which is a two page essay. “You’re too kind, thanks pal,” when you walk out your room to head to the kitchen and grab a snack, the lounge is empty, kitchen empty,

“The team’s on a mission? I thought they had the whole week off,” you say before gulping down a water bottle.

“I checked the security footage: they left about an hour ago. Captain Rogers was talking about getting dinner.”

You put the bottle down. “Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment. This isn’t your first time being alone, they always left you here when they had a mission of course but... well, it’s not like they want you around them. “I’ll - I’ll just make myself something later, then. Not a big deal. I have to study anyway.”

Another hour later, the Avengers are back. They're all conversing happily as they pile in the lounge. Peter's rambling about upgrades for the Spiderman suit while Tony's typing away in his phone, nodding at everything he says. Everyone else is arguing about the TV channels and talking about the new restaurant they ate at.

Rhodey shifts, looking around. “Why do I feel like we forgot something?”

Natasha looks at him, waiting for him to go on.

“I assure you, I brought Mjolnir with me this time.” Thor butts in.

“No not that, what time does Y/N get home from school?” No one answers. It’s not like any of them know. It's natural that Rhodey would be worried about his goddaughter (even if they rarely talk). He turns his head to his best friend who’s now walking away with Peter, an arm around his shoulder. “Tony, where’s Y/N?”

He doesn’t hear since he has his full attention on his protégé.

“I’ll start making this tomorrow, I guess. I still have to buy materials.” You mumble to yourself, but you hope Friday's listening to everything you say just to make you feel less lonely. You swipe the hologram of the blueprint away and place the thick books in front of you.

“I would like to recommend a suitable study plan.” they state.

You rub your eyes, sighing, “I’m already halfway, I would’ve considered it earlier though.”

“This is only a recommendation, feel free to ignore it.”

You push yourself away from the desk and mutter a “go on,”, fiddling with your pen.

“Asking Mr. Rogers and Mr. Barnes would give you more details for your History examination, since the pair were originally from that time period. The same goes for Mr. Banner for your Science examination, I believe he has seven Ph.D’s, you may also approach Vision for the same topic. Mr. Stark has all the necessary materials for your project in his lab. Would you like me to-”

If only it were that easy. It should be easy, the thought alone makes you really nervous. “No, I - I appreciate the recommendation, Friday, but - I think I can do this on my own.”

“But you’re tired and it is almost midnight. I would help you myself but you specifically told me not to.”

They’re not wrong. Your eyes are starting to droop and you barely understand anything you're reading. You're also fighting back tears - why is talking to your family so hard?

“I can sense sadness. Would you like me to activate emotional support mode?”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds great right about now.”

----

“Crap. Guess we lost track of time again, kid,” Tony wipes his hands with a rag while he looks at the time on his computer. “You better get home. I’ll send May a text for keeping you this late.”

“Okay, thank you Mr. Stark. I’m just gonna use my suit-”

“No. Happy will drive you.”

Peter knew better than to argue and insist so he just nods and smiles sheepishly. A minute later Happy came ‘round to take him home.

Tony turns back around. “Friday, make a new project for me please, I’m adding minor upgrades to the Spiderman suit.”

“Not now, boss.”

Oh. He did not expect that. “Excuse me?”

“Y/N is currently opening up. I would like to give her my full, undivided attention. Please come back after fifteen minutes or so.”

Tony doesn’t exactly know how to feel about that. He never sees her outside her room anymore that he kinda forgot she existed tonight - oh fuck, they didn’t bring her to dinner with them.

“Well,” he exhales. “What is she saying?”

“That would be an invasion of privacy.”

“I’m her father-”

“Are you, sir?” Friday’s clever remark makes him stop abruptly.

It’s pretty clear that he’s been a shit father. Not only does he ignore you all the time but he treats Peter way better than his own flesh and blood. The Avengers on the other hand, they were nice people, but just didn’t understand so they try their best to get out of your way.

You were afraid of rejection, afraid to interact, because you had no idea what everyone thought of you. Did they like you? Did you make them uncomfortable? Did they want you around? What about Tony, did he really want a daughter in his life? Because you noticed he’d be better off with a son, yeah, like Peter goddamn Parker.

Tony sighs, walking out of his lab and heads to the mini bar to grab a drink. He needs to think: there's absolutely nothing wrong about you, he just didn’t do his job right, you thought he didn’t care, you thought nobody did. Even Friday is turning against him, doing a better job of comforting and being there for you.

“God, I’m such an asshole,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. He drinks his last shot and heads to the kitchen. “She still awake?” He calls out.

“She is.” Friday has a bitter tone.

He's hesitant to ask again, feeling really bad for not knowing this simple question - “what’s her favorite beverage?”

----

“How do you feel?”

You sniffle. “Well y’know, better than before. I should probably go to sleep. Thanks, Fri.”

“You’re welcome. Also, Mr. Stark is outside your door.”

“W-what?” You put away your books and straighten up, rubbing your damp eyes. “You’re serious? Okay, uh, let him in?” It's more of a question.

“Alright.”

You turn to face your desk as Tony enters the room, holding two steaming mugs. He sits at the end of your bed, just right next to the chair you're sitting on. “Hi,” he gives you a small smile and hands you a mug.

What’s the occasion?

“What’s this?” You ask quietly before taking the mug from his hands. Tony's being gentle and soft, it's odd but you’re not complaining.

“Green tea with honey. I... I thought I saw you make that stuff once.” He says, not mentioning the fact that Friday told him that.

“Oh, well, yeah,” you take a small sip. He added a bit too much honey but other than that it was good. “I thought you preferred coffee, though,”

Tony shrugs, his eyes glistening when he looks at you. “Wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

“Did - did you want something, Dad?” You always found yourself awkward, couldn’t even make conversation with someone for long, always wanted to get straight to the point so it could be over with.

He looks like he wants to say something but he just averts his gaze to you, his hands, the floor, then suddenly he leans in and hugs you. Your feel your heart swell and body warm up, it’s a new sensation for you after all, you rarely get hugs from people. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything. I’m such a bad dad, I don’t deserve you. I even forgot you when we went out to dinner.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I had loads of stuff to do earlier anyway, so, but yeah I was just - I just overreact, I’m sensitive. I don’t blame you and the others for not liking me, I know there’s nothing like-able about me, I’m not like Peter-” You ramble, tears now leaving your eyes again.

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” Tony says as he pulls you closer to him, head resting against his chest while he rubs your back comfortably. “Y/N Stark, you are smart, brilliant - I was just an ass for not acknowledging that.”

“I know you’re just saying that to-”

“Oh, but I’m not,” he now places his hands on your shoulders, getting you to look at him. “Tell me who built their first engine when they were eight?”

You blush, “Dad-”

“No, come on, I wanna hear it.”

“I did.”

“Yes you did. And who made a completely functioning robot at their middle school science fair that blew all the teacher’s minds?”

You’re trying to hide a smile, recalling the memory,  “I did.”

“And who,” Tony gets up and walks to the bulky looking thing that you covered with a sheet, pulling it off, “is currently building a computer from scratch?”

“Dad! That’s still a work in progress,” he messily places the sheet back and chuckles.

“My point is, you’re a clever and talented girl, Y/N. Don’t bring yourself down. And you don’t have to be shy around your family, those idiots have been dying to get to know you but since you don’t talk much... they don’t want to force it. We love you,” he says. “I hope you forgive me ‘cause I really wanna make it up to you. I’m not calling Peter in for a few weeks.” Tony sits down beside you again.

You couldn’t believe he’d do that for you. “You don’t have to, if you need him for something then-”

“-then you could help me instead, if you’re up for it.”

“I’m really sorry for being such a lonely freak,” you yawn, getting back into Tony’s open arms. “I love you.”

Tony tucks you in and lies down beside you, “I love you tons, kiddo.”

You snuggle into his chest, feeling his steady breathing while he rests his chin above your head.

----

It's morning. The Avengers are gathered at your open bedroom door.

“Are you getting all of this, Friday?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Steve turn that shuttering sound down!” Natasha hisses at the super soldier who's doing his task, taking pictures.

Steve almost drops the phone and has Bruce fix the volume for him.

They’re all watching you and Tony cuddle together, still fast asleep.

“Do we have to stay here until they wake up?”

“Unless you have a great way of waking them up, yes. Now shut up.”

“If you think about it we definitely look creepy right now.” Sam comments.

“It’s their fault for having the door wide open all night!” Clint says.

Tony's actually awake the whole time, listening to them bickering. “You have three seconds to get the hell out of here before I make all of you polish my suits.” With that, the team races down the hall, pushing each other to get away first like literal children.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

SECRET LOVE

Pairing: DBH!Connor X OC!Character

Words: 3.636

Warnings: smut, dominance (nothing too heavy), slightly rough Connor

Summary: Kat is a detective of the DPD and secretly dating one of her colleagues for a few weeks. After a long day, the only thing she is yearning for is a nice evening with her boyfriend to forget about all the idiots in the world. But sometimes ‘nice’ is not the wanted thing.

02. January 2039

05:26:07 PM

… and the only thing Kat wanted was a coffee, a hot shower, pizza and maybe watching a movie… But instead she pushed a junky around she had arrested thirty minutes ago as he was dealing nearby an elementary school.

The junky grunted as he stumbled forward, a bit clumsy on his feet, “Come on, sweetheart, be a bit more cautious with me. There is still a chance for the two of us to work out. I mean after everything we went through so far.”

“I don’t think so, asshole.”, Kat muttered and pushed the guy further through the department to put him finally into one of the detention cells. It was a pity that the cells had electrical doors nowadays, otherwise, she just could throw the key away.

“But darling-”

“Shut the fuck up and move.”, Kat spitted and pushed him around once again.

“You need help there, hon?”, Gavin asked with a lopsided smirk while he leant casually against his desk with crossed arms and legs.

Kat rolled with her eyes. That was another asshole she didn’t need right now. Not after such a long day. “No, thanks, I’m fine. There’s no need for you to get your hands dirty.”, Kat fired back.

“Oh, but Kat, I would love to get my hands dirty...with you. If you just could read my mind right now-”

“Then, I’m sure, I would puke straight into your ugly face.”, Kat hissed and was happy to reach the detention cell and to leave Gavin, the biggest asshole of the DPD, behind. Kat pushed the junky into the cell and closed the door with the scan of the palm of her hand.

“But, baby. You can’t leave me alone here. I’m afraid of the dark.”, the junky said with a disgusting smirk.

Kat closed her eyes, breathed in and counted to five to calm herself. She really needed the end of the work day or … her boyfriend.

“Hey, Chris! Where's Hank?”, Kat asked as she stopped by the abandoned desks of Hank and Connor. Neither the Lieutenant nor the android were around.

“They brought a suspect in ten minutes ago. I guess they’re still in the interrogation room.”, Chris answered and turned back to his own work. Kat considered if she should just wait til they were done or if she should visit them. She looked quickly around, her eyes fell on Gavin who spoke to a colleague. If he would see her sitting around alone, he would come over to her - the last thing she wanted.

So, Kat decided to sneak into the interrogation room. An officer sat at the desk and controlled the camera and the microphone. Hank sat next to him and observed the interrogation room through the one-way mirror. Kat closed the door softly but Hank noticed her nevertheless. He greeted her with a quick nod before he looked back ahead to his partner.

Kat knew about their latest case. An android had killed its owner and they had searched for it for a while. Since the successful revolution, these kinds of attacks were rare but they happened from time to time. Hank and Connor were still assigned to these cases and now, as they had found the suspect, it was Connor’s turn to question the android.

Connor wore still his grey jacket and his typical white suit shirt underneath but the android markings were gone. The blue band around his arm and the android label on his back were both removed. He was no longer property of CyberLife but he got used to the style of clothes, so he had decided to keep them. Even the black tie was still around his neck. Kat liked to watch the android no matter what he did.

That was one of the reasons why she had said yes as Connor had asked her out several weeks ago. He had been nervous as hell, Kat had seen it in his eyes and his insecure expression but she had said yes and till now, it was the best decision she had ever made when it came to men. To date an android was interesting and new. She had expected it to be more awkward but there was nothing that felt uncomfortable with him.

Connor was extremely nice, the complete difference to all her ex-boyfriends before. He acted as a real gentleman and treated her right. Always. Til this day, Kat didn’t regret getting into a relationship with Connor. But they kept it secretly to avoid any unwanted attention - mostly of Gavin who already had made it to his personal mission to torture Connor whenever he could. It is not for nothing that Kat always called him Detective 'douchebag' Reed.

Kat enjoyed watching Connor interview a suspect. She had seen it several times before but each time, she was amazed by his skill to get a confession. Sure, his analyzing program was helpful to find clues before the suspect even spoke a word but it was for his special ability to piece these information together in no time that made the difference.

"Is this the android who killed its owner? Have you found it finally?", Kat asked curiously. Hank nodded.

"At least, that's what the eye witnesses said. They saw it running away but it came back one night. Maybe Connor will get something out of it.", Hank explained and Kat was sure the android would be successful. She was glad that she came to the right moment.

Connor sat across the suspect, an MC500 model. An android for paramedic purposes. The victim had been a dealer, maybe there was a connection. But this one android was rigged up with dirty skin and clothes which were damaged. This model reminded Kat always of a Ken-like guy but this one seemed to be living on the street or it had experienced some bad times.

Connor considered the best approach. He considered a friendly way to gain his trust but the android in front of him seemed to have experienced a few rough things so, maybe, it wouldn't be impressed by kindness and wouldn't fall for it. The android's right arm was covered with deep scars which were glowing blue and even its chest seemed to be damaged, visible through the shrewd fabric. The best way would be a more aggressive one. Maybe if he would scare it, it would talk more easily.

Kat watched how Connor skimmed through the case file and the pictures with his long, slender fingers. She saw him stopping at some pictures, probably searching for the right way to start.

Several minutes passed before Connor looked at the handcuffed android. "What's your name?", Connor asked directly to start the interview slowly. His smooth voice sounded like honey and Kat was looking forward to seeing her boyfriend doing his job. After this rough day of chasing a junky through half of Detroit’s city, she needed some eye candy.

"So, you want to stay silent, huh?", Connor said and stood up more aggressively than necessary. With crossed arms, he walked around the table and towered above the other android. He looked down at it with a stern expression. His brows were drawn together and his brown eyes were gleaming darkly. Suddenly, Connor freed his hands and slammed them violently on the metal surface of the table. The booming sound echoed through the interrogation room and Kat jumped a little. Surprised, she watched how Connor lowered towards the android to be on the same level while he was still towering him.

"Just because androids aren't slaves anymore doesn't mean that you can run around and kill humans.", Connor grunted deeply. "You're accused of murder,", he said low but threatening, "Crimes like this will be punished. You hear me?", Connor asked, still very threatening.

With huge eyes, Kat watched how Connor grabbed the android by its collar to pull it up to his eye level.

"Do you hear me? I swear you will be sent back to CyberLife." he threatened. "They will switch you off and tear you apart piece by piece!", he screamed into the android's face. The android winced and shuddered. But Connor just tightened his grip on the fabric. "You're just a fucking murderer! A cold blooded piece of shit who killed an innocent human!", Connor spat poisonously and let the android drop back on its chair.

With an open mouth, Kat looked shocked at Connor who had cursed in front of her for the first time. He acted aggressive. He screamed. He became physical. She had never seen him like this before. Her mind was racing to process what she had seen and heard. His voice was dark, deep and demanding. He was dominant and the boss in this room who showed off his power. Kat was speechless and became… turned on.

"I… I don't want to be destroyed…", the android whispered weakly.

But Connor didn't seem to be impressed. Instead, he waited and stared down at the android unemotional. He waited a few more moments before he slammed his hands on the surface again. "I don't care what you want! The victim also didn't have a chance to decide if he wanted to die or not. You took that chance from him!", Connor said low but powerful.

This low voice shot goosebumps down Kat's spine.

"But just because he attacked me first!", the android screamed back desperately to explain himself and that was the breaking point. Connor sat back on his place across the android and listened to the confession. Hank was also listening but Kat had difficulties to follow the interrogation. Several times, she tried to concentrate but her mind was always drifting back to the demanding voice and rough behavior of Connor.

Kat felt that something rose inside her. She knew the hot feeling that rose deep in her core all too well. And she knew the reason behind that feeling: Connor. Connor had turned her on so much with his aggressive way that she wasn't able to concentrate anymore.

Kat sneaked out of the room. Neither Hank nor the officer had noticed her disappearance. In the hallway, she leant against the wall next to the door and stemmed her hands into her sides. She tried to calm her thoughts but intense pictures were running in front of her eyes and fueled her lust even more. Her mind was running wild.

Several minutes later, the door opened and awoke Kat from her trance. The officer left the room with the android and Hank by its side. Connor followed them. Kat grabbed Connor by his arm to pull him towards her.

"Oh, hey, Kat- what's wrong?", Connor asked, concerned as he saw Kat's dark eyes.

But she just dragged the puzzled Connor after her, down the hallway and slipped into the next available room.

"That's the male bathroom, Kat.", Connor explained softly but she pressed her hand over his mouth.

"I don't care.", Kat said low. She saw the confusion in Connor's eyes. "I saw you. During the interrogation. What was that?"

"What do you mean?", Connor asked with a raised brow.

"You were cursing! You were aggressive and dominant. I had no idea you could be like this!"

"It was a tactic to approach the suspe-", Connor explained matter of factly.

Kat stopped him from speaking once again. "I don't care, Connor. You turned me extremely on with this behavior and for ten minutes, I can't think of anything else than how you acted in this room.", Kat whispered low but heavy. Connor noticed her aroused manner. Slowly, Kat removed her hand from his mouth.

"So, you liked that, huh?", Connor asked low and straightened himself to his full height.

Kat nodded slowly with a lopsided smirk. She moved her hands up and down his chest but Connor reacted quickly.

He grabbed her wrists and pressed her against the door with his lower body while he shoved her hands above her head. "You like it rough, baby girl?", he asked with a deep voice and dark eyes. Connor watched how she gnawed on her lower lip while she was nodding. Connor lowered his head but stopped inches from her lips to tease her. Kat tried to escape his hands but he just tightened the grip. Only then, he crashed his lips on hers for a hungry kiss.

Kat moaned and arched her back to greet his chest with her breasts. Connor understood the hint and changed his grip around her hands. With one hand, he held both of her wrists while he stroked along her side with his right hand. Teasingly and very slowly, he slid his fingers down her ribcage to her hip. Then, he slipped underneath her shirt and stroked up to her chest. Kat's breath quickened as Connor reached her breast to squeeze it softly. Kat enjoyed it and let her head fall back against the door.

Connor took the chance and bit into her neck with the right amount of pressure to make her moan again.

"Connor…", she whispered raspy with closed eyes.

"Yes? What can I do for you?", he asked but his voice was filled with dominance.

"I- I need you…", she breathed low and Connor released her hands. Kat took the opportunity and dug her fingers into his soft hair. She looked into his eyes. A cheeky smirk played on his lips. Before Kat could say anything, Connor grabbed her ass, raised her up and brought her over to the sink to place her there on top. Kat snaked her legs around his waist, grabbed his tie and pulled him down to kiss him passionately. Both his hands worked his way up and down her body while Kat rolled her hips against him to increase the friction.

Connor dug his fingers into Kat's long, braided hair and pulled her head back to get a good spot on her neck. He kneaded her breast and played with her hardened nipple through the fabric which caused her to moan his name once again. He kissed up and down her neck before he bit down.

"Uh… not that strong…", Kat cried out but her voice was filled with pure lust.

"I just want to make sure that you know that you're mine. And only mine.", Connor whispered husky against her skin.

"I.. I'm just yours, Connor.", Kat admitted raspy.

"Well, that didn't sound very convincing.", Connor said and stepped back from Kat who was already a mess. Her hair was tousled, her lips were swollen and her clothes askew.

As she saw Connor stepping away from her, she was shocked. Kat jumped from the sink and stepped forward to reach him but Connor stepped back until she stopped.

"Turn around.", Connor commanded low. His eyes held an arrogant expression.

"W-what?", Kat asked, confused. She was overwhelmed by the situation. By his dominant way and his strong voice.

"I said, turn around!", he said, more demanding than before.

Kat followed his instructions. She turned around and stood in front of the mirror. She looked at herself and untied her hair because the braided tail was already disheveled. Connor closed up to her from behind. And Kat watched him through the mirror coming closer.

"Look at me!", Connor said deeply into Kat's left ear. Just his voice shot goosebumps down her spine and she shuddered, already filled with lust. Connor towered behind her and stroked over her hips to the button of her jeans to open it. He opened the zipper slowly to slip his right hand inside.

Kat's knees started to wobble as she felt Connor's hand slowly moving forward down her slip. As he touched it, Kat felt how soaked the fabric already was.

"Oh, you're really in this mood, aren't you, baby girl?", Connor whispered.

Kat nodded while she bit down on her lower lip. She squirmed against his chest the longer he teased her over the fabric. As Kat started to roll with her hips to grind her ass against him, Connor moved his hand underneath the fabric of the soaked slip. Kat cried out with relish as she felt Connor's fingers sliding between her folds. He stopped his moves and placed his other hand over her mouth.

"You have to be more quiet or someone will hear us. If you're too loud I fear I have to stop. Got it?", Connor asked and removed his hand slowly to move it down to her neck. His long fingers were laying softly around her throat. "Say it!", he demanded with his lips sliding on the outer rim of Kat's ear.

"I have to be more quiet. Please, continue…", Kat begged desperately what caused Connor to grin.

He waited a few more seconds and concentrated on Kat's rapid heartbeat and her erratic pulse caused by him. Her chest was moving uneven and she was shuddering against him. Very slowly, Connor slipped two of his fingers back into her. Kat's hot core was dripping wet and his fingers were covered in seconds. "You feel that?", Connor whispered as he pushed his fingers a bit deeper inside her.

"Y-yes…", Kat nodded and whimpered low to stay quiet.

Connor looked Kat in the eyes through the mirror. "That's me inside of you, Kat.", he said smirking and pushed deeper. "I know how much you love my hands on your body.", he said low and moved his left hand to her breast to knead it slowly. "And my fingers inside of you like this.", he continued and pumped into her again.

Each time he did that, Kat shuddered more and more. She felt her core tightening.

Connor noticed that she was close, so he removed his hand a bit to extend the moment. "Kat", Connor said to get her attention, "Tell me you're mine.", he demanded, breathing against her ear. She looked him straight in the brown eyes which were sparkling darkly.

"I-I'm yours…", Kat whispered low between two heavy breaths.

"I can't hear you. What did you say, baby girl?", Connor asked innocently. But his dark voice compared with the nickname gave her goosebumps again.

"I'm just yours, Connor.", Kat said more clearly.

"Exactly, you are just mine! No one else is allowed to touch you! Got it?", Connor said as a statement and Kat had to obey.

"I said: got it?", Connor asked again, smirking and slipped his hand back down her slip.

"Yes…", Kat breathed husky as she felt Connor's long, slender fingers deep inside of her.

"Repeat it! I want to hear it from your sweet lips.", Connor commanded and pumped rhythmically into her in the way Kat liked the most.

"I-I'm just yours. No one else is allowed to touch me…", Kat repeated breathless.

"Good, baby girl. Now, would you like me to finish you?", he whispered raspy into her ear. He looked Kat straight into her lust filled eyes with a devilish smirk.

"Yes, please. I- I can't take it anymore.", she begged and watched the lopsided smirk growing bigger on his lips.

Connor adjusted the position of his hand and rubbed along her clit while his fingers were pumping steadily into her.

Kat's breath fastened, she closed her eyes while she leant her head back against his chest.

"Fuck damnit, Connor...", Kat moaned raspy as he pumped to her climax.

"Kiss me!", Connor demanded.

Kat's mind was spinning but she managed to turn her head to the right.

Connor crashed his lips on hers in the same moment Kat cried out because of the orgasm washing over her. He continued his moves to intensify the feeling for her even more.

As she stopped being too loud, he left her lips and watched her amazed how she enjoyed her satisfaction with closed eyes.

Kat was still jerking as he removed his hand from her slowly. She leant against the sink to catch her breath. As she was slowly recovering, her heartbeat slowed down and she straightened herself to smooth her clothes.

"Was it good?", Connor asked and smirked as he watched Kat coming clear.

"You have outdone yourself, babe.", Kat said smiling but still a bit breathless. She walked over to her boyfriend and kissed him lovely while she flung her arms around his neck.

"I had no idea you could be like that."

"Yeah...but if I shall be honest, I would like to keep that in the interrogation room.", Connor admitted.

"Well...but from time to time…", Kat said with a wink and let the sentence unspoken.

Connor chuckled, cupped her chin to raise it so he could meet her lips for another sweet and caring kiss.

"I will see you at home?", Connor asked low. Kat looked into his soft brown eyes and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm already looking forward to it.", Kat answered and checked her appearance in the mirror. She smoothed her hair one last time before she went to the door to step out. "Watch it, dipshit!", Kat snapped as she left the bathroom. She pushed Gavin aside who looked confused at her as he was about to enter the restroom.

"Wrong restroom, you idiot!", Gavin called out and shook his head. Kat's only response to him was showing her middle finger while she went into the kitchen for a coffee. Gavin was about to open the door to the restroom once again as the next person stepped out and almost crashed into him.

"Watch i-", Gavin started but stopped as he noticed Connor in front of him who fixed the knot of his tie while he walked through the door.

"Detective Reed.", Connor said politely with a nod and passed a speechless looking Gavin to go back to his desk.

"But- what the hell.", he muttered, confused before he entered the restroom finally.