#i somehow got an interview for the job i was most interested in

[cetoddle-archive]

i have a dr appointment in two hours and i scheduled a therapy app for monday and i have an interview friday

[on-leatheredwings]

Checkmate

Yandere! Tim Drake / (AFAB) Reader

> romantic, rated M > tw/cw: yandere-typical behaviors (obsession). M rating is for a boner. just some sexual tension. reader is mentioned as bisexual.

> summary: Intellectually, Tim falls fast. Romantically, he falls hard. Seems this time it's both. > a/n: i just wanted to post some tim practice, pls let me know if i did okay. I made him a bit of a fuckboy i guess but ngl i think tim’s just run through af 😭 > word count: 1268

Tim likes you. And knowing himself, soon, he’s going to really like you.

More than anticipated, too. He didn’t think he’d have much of an opinion at all on you, when you had first met on your first day, in your new position as his personal assistant.

Personal assistant. 

At the reveal, he exchanged a hard look with Bruce across the room. Tim Drake had not been slacking on the job. And sometimes he had the eye bags to prove it.

Tim hadn’t even said anything yet, when you chirped, “Think of it as delegation.”

You gave him a pleasant, albeit cheeky look – which he respected. If you had the qualifications and enough charm to impress the hiring manager, who was a notorious hardass in interviews, you were probably fine. Probably more than fine.

Either way, he expected to forget your existence until you texted or called him to remind him about meetings he hadn’t forgotten about.

It turns out, you had… personality. Probably more than you should’ve, working in the professional setting of Wayne Enterprises. You dealt with Tim’s shit (absences, excuses), but gave as good as you got (ultimatums, thinly-veiled blackmail to run and tell Bruce). You were also… very attractive. And clever. And smart. And insightful.

And God, he wonders if you have a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. And he wonders if he can somehow orchestrate a breakup. 

Tim moves a chess piece across the board. 

Okay, maybe he’s being too hasty. 

Oh, for the love of– you know what? No, he isn’t being too hasty. Anyone working in such close quarters with the heir apparent of Wayne Enterprises is heavily vetted. But it’s about time he did his own background check on you. He has made it three whole months without doing so. 

See, he really is getting over his control issues. Eat that, Stephanie.

Okay, if he’s going to entertain the idea of courting you– Wait, wait, since when was it courting? Yeah, no. He’s merely entertaining the thought of you. He’s been burned too many times now to start courting.

Let’s talk about having sex first before we start talking about dating, he jests with himself.

Anyway. He wonders what would be the most interesting means of going about this. Coming out and confessing would be a little boring. Too easy. His eyes wander to your lips. You’re too focused on making your next move to notice him ogling the soft swell of your chest beneath a sharp button-up. You’ve rolled up the sleeves – very casual for this very casual hangout. You both lounge on your bed, in your bedroom, in your apartment, because if Tim wins, you don’t get to hound him on personally contacting investors. (Sometimes, you gotta leave malcontents out to dry. Make them miss you.)

He hopes you like being experimented with. Or maybe you like experimenting on others. He would do anything you liked because, man, it’s thrilling to know people and their wants. Anything you give, he could take it–

Tim startles as a realization comes to his mind. 

… Him. Taking it.

Is that something he wants? To bottom for you? … Is that something… he wants? 

Yes.

Now that the idea has been conceived, yes, he wants that. So that’s that. 

The reality of whether you’d want to do that… is slim… maybe? You’re bi as well. Maybe that changes things. He’s not going to think about it too hard, because now he’s getting excited.

Tim would love for the skittering, synapses-firing-on-all-cylinders effect in his brain to cool down – for everything to wash over with cool calculation and academic interest. He manages to do that much for even the most intriguing cases. But you… Tim sighs.

And now he’s hard.

Tim shifts uncomfortably. He’s lying on his stomach, held up by his forearms. 

He sighs, even though there’s an evil piece of his brain snickering and taunting, “But you love this, though!” Evil, evil.

At Tim’s increasing silence, you lift a brow. Man, he’s been out of it all game.

“Tim?” He comes back to planet Earth. “It’s your move. Again.” You wear a Cheshire grin. “It’s almost like we’re taking turns, or something.”

He blinks, baby blue eyes clearing up. He shifts in his spot, feeling trills of pleasure from friction against erection. Your sheets. Against his erection. He bites back a smile. Okay, yes, he loves this. He likes hiding like this, right under your nose.

Him getting a boner was a development he had foreseen coming ten minutes ago, once he started daydreaming about you. So he just went ahead and casually switched positions. A risk, but a calculated one. He was pretty sure there’d be no reason for him to get up and expose the tent in his jeans. And boy does he love it when he’s right.

Tim goes to move another piece, when he glances up at you and nearly goes slack-jawed. You don’t meet his eyes. Instead, you wet your lips, seemingly meditating on something.

You meditate on him. After all, Tim is so… pretty. Pretty in a way unlike the rest of his gorgeous brothers. He has pretty eyes framed by dark lashes and a smaller frame, though he’s deceptively muscled under the clean-cut slacks and button ups. He has silky black hair that often falls into his eyes; a defined jaw. And pale skin. He is notably the palest in his family, burning miserably on beach days. It is that pale skin, contrasted so sharply with his dark green tee, that brings your eyes to his collarbones.

Tim nearly erupts.

Fuck, yes. He caught you staring. It takes him self-restraint not to puff out his chest or try to show more skin, lest he reveal his hard-on.

You snap out of it only moments after he notices, grin returning to your face.

“You know if you lose focus like that, I’m going to win,” you tease, almost childlike mischief in your expression. 

Tim so badly wants to parrot the words back at you, but he doesn’t want to scare you into never checking him out ever again. The little inch you just gave him– oh, he intends to take a mile. Whatever small acquiesces you give in the future, he knows he’ll take that and much more.

Now, he’s hungry for you. As soon as this game is done, he’s going to create a new case study file, just for you. He could start kicking his feet at the thought, he's that excited. He’s excited! 

He’ll put the pedestrian, basic stuff like your height, weight, alma mater, major, past jobs and experiences. Somehow get into your social media that’s all on private mode to see what you’re always laughing at on that damn phone. He’s also going to bring up your phone records, go through your email, go through your physical mail. Oh, fuck, surveillance. He’s already in your room, too, luckily. If only he had more of his bugs on hand… The ones he always keeps in his belt buckle will do for now. Also, Tim needs to think of some way to acquire your breast, waist, and hip size – he has a good idea of those measurements, but he wants to know. When is the next time you’ll be out of the house and not at work, he wonders–

“Tim,” you whine, impatient. The sound is music to his ears.

Tim’s eyes rise from the board to your pouting face, and he smiles apologetically. Suddenly, your face dawns with disbelief and indignance.

Tim swiftly picks up one last piece and knocks one yours over.

“Checkmate.”

[venus-haze]

Kick It Out (Queen Maeve x Reader)

Summary: Maeve doesn’t date, for her own good and that of anyone she might be interested in. Teaching you how to kickbox definitely isn’t dating, even if the two of you do flirt every time you’re alone.

Note: Female reader with some references to being plus size, but not enough for me to designate the fic as such. No other descriptors are used. This takes place slightly before Homelander outed Maeve, but she still does a lot of internal shittalking about him. Hopefully I did well with her characterization because I’m already planning a follow-up. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Some references to homophobia Maeve’s experienced. Homelander vaguely threatens the reader to Maeve. Semi-public fingering, Maeve's kinda rough. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

It was a coincidence, really, when Maeve walked by Vought’s employee gym during one of the yoga sessions that was part of HR’s company wellness initiative. She’d forgotten Vought even had that, not interacting much with the corporation's rank and file on a regular basis and using The Seven’s exclusive gym to train. The employee gym was spacious, clean, and at that moment filled with dozens of Vought employees in a rainbow of athleticwear. Maeve could remember the old Jane Fonda workout tapes her mom used to put on in the mornings, how pleased she was with little Maggie’s rapt attention at the videos. You always need to keep your body moving, Maggie. It’s so important. 

Her eyes scanned the group lazily until they landed on you in the middle of a stretch that made Maeve feel like that little girl staring at Jane Fonda in spandex all over again. She licked her lips, giving you a quick once over before anyone could notice. You would become target number one the moment Homelander got a whiff she was remotely interested in you. Her fists clenched at the thought of how he–and her own complacency–ruined her relationship with Elena. She couldn’t do that to you, not that she even knew your name, and she wouldn’t learn it if she could help it. She wasn’t that selfish.

At least, that’s what she thought, until somehow she kept running into you. An interview here, a briefing there, she wasn’t even sure what you did at Vought exactly. It didn’t matter. You clearly hadn’t drunk the Kool-Aid, viewing your job as a way to pay the bills instead of the feverish devotion so many of its employees had. She started looking forward to seeing you, taking the opportunity to stand next to you when she could and exchange quips back and forth about how corny a promotion seemed or how weird the marketing team was. 

Like clockwork, though, you’d be in the employee gym whenever the yoga classes were being held. She casually brought it up one day, asking if you were really that into yoga, or just taking advantage of the free classes.

You nodded. “Yoga’s nice, but I’d love to get into kickboxing or something. I’m kind of nervous to sign up for a class. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up.”

“I can teach you,” Maeve said, the words coming out of her mouth before she could even think.

“Are you sure? That’d be great, but only if you have the time and everything.”

“Yeah, let me give you my number. It’ll be easier to plan that way.”

You handed your phone to her, and she quickly entered her personal number into your messages, texting a simple ‘Hey’ to herself. She hesitated a moment before giving you back your phone. Okay, this was for real. She was committing to it. 

“I’ll text you later. I’m free most weeknights, so just let me know,” you said cheerfully.

A sour mix of excitement and regret clouded her mind until you left, and as she walked down the hall to the elevator, she thought she’d at least have a chance to at least convince herself that it wouldn’t be that bad. She was never that lucky.

“Uncharacteristically nice of you to offer to help out Y/N,” Homelander said, almost as if materializing out of nowhere.

Maeve balled her hands into fists at her side. Why did he always have to be lurking? Recently, he had been fucking off to god only knows where, sometimes for days at a time. Of course he had to be around when she finally made a move. “I’m just full of surprises.”

“Your heart’s beating like a racehorse, Maeve. You’re not that excited about just practicing some kickboxing moves, are you? I’d be a better partner than her, in that case. You and I are practically indestructible. Her on the other hand—it’s amazing how fragile humans are.”

Maeve remained silent, letting out a shaky breath as she refused to acknowledge his taunting.

“You think she knows her sports bra is a size too small? I mean, one downward dog and her tits are practically spilling out of—“

“Get a grip,” Maeve snapped.

“Hey, don’t be like that. It’s just locker room talk,” Homelander said, a menacing smile plastered across his face. “Speaking of surprises, I wonder what Y/N would think if she knew this was all a ploy for you to get into those tight yoga pants of hers. I guess I can’t blame you. Not exactly my type, but with the way you can see her panty line through them, she’s practically asking for it.”

“Asking for what?” she asked, standing taller as she looked him in the eye, daring him to make his threat. 

“Hit a nerve there, huh, Maeve?”

“Mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.”

“Well, you sure know how to pick ‘em,” he said abruptly.

She knew him well enough that it meant someone was coming down the hall, and he didn’t want them hearing a word he said. Scoffing, she shook her head as she walked away, trying to keep a brave face as she made her way to the elevator. 

Storming into her suite, she slammed the door behind her and threw the nearest breakable object at the wall before collapsing onto the couch, her head in her hands. Fuck. She’d been too obvious, too careless, and now you were going to be on the receiving end of it. Keeping her distance wouldn’t be fair to you, and it’d only put you in more danger when it came to Homelander. As much of a Girl Scout as Starlight could be sometimes, at least she was willing to risk it all for Hughie, even when he was lying through his teeth to her about Butcher and Compound V. At the very least, Maeve could do the same for you moving forward.

Still, she decided she was way too sober for her liking, and dug through her cabinets to find a half-drunk bottle of vodka, wanting to escape the gravity of the situation she found herself in for just a little while. 

The next day, she woke up a few minutes past eleven, her head pounding as she checked her phone. A few missed calls and texts, including one from you: ‘Hey! Homelander said you were sick. Hope you feel better soon💐’

Between the thought of Homelander being near you and her raging hangover, Maeve leaned over the side of the bed, throwing up into the nearby trash can. She got another text from Ashley, asking if she’d still be able to do her designated crime fighting schedule that night since she was supposed to team up with A-Train. Staring at the text, she grinned, getting out of bed to choke down a few aspirin and make her way to crime analytics.

The department’s office was depressingly dark, and the girl who nervously pulled up the schedule for the next few weeks looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Opening the notes on her phone, she quickly typed what days and times Homelander would be away from the tower. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do while she figured out how to take control of the situation. 

Your kickboxing lessons with her began a little after seven on a Thursday evening. Maeve had asked you to keep everything under wraps, claiming she didn’t want everyone pestering her to train them. This was a one-off thing because you were friends. She was relieved at how your face lit up when she put it that way.

The whole arrangement made her realize how rusty she was at flirting with someone she was actually interested in, as opposed to the sleazy guys she’d bring up to the tower for one-night stands only to kick them out afterward. Training with you was great, you were eager to learn despite struggling to pick up some of the moves. She took the opportunity to stand close to you, putting her arms over yours and guiding your movements, her body framing yours. Sometimes her hands would linger over your skin, feeling how soft you were against her until she felt you shiver or heard your breath hitch. The physical, intimate closeness drove her crazy. In those moments, she wondered what your whole body felt like, your stomach and thighs surely plush beneath her fingertips.

Things came to a head during your fourth training session. Homelander hadn’t been at the tower for a day or so, and you were acting bolder. There was no way you didn’t catch her staring at the way you bounced around while Heart’s ‘Kick It Out’ blasted from the speakers you’d connected your phone to. She was sure you were doing it on purpose at that point.

“I think I’m almost as good as you,” you joked, beads of sweat rolling down your forehead.

She laughed. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Bring it on!”

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you stood across from her on the training mat. Your stance wasn’t the best, but you were trying despite her dodging your blows with ease. Just because she liked you, it didn’t mean she was going to hand you a win. You were having fun, a smile on your face as she caught your lifted leg before you could really kick.

In any other scenario, she figured you could hold your own pretty well in a fight with a non-supe. You threw a punch which Maeve blocked without so much as blinking. One more time, you went for another kick, only for her to send you flat on your back with a thud.

She pinned you to the mat, the two of you silent except for your breathing. Maeve didn’t do anything but stare at your face, just mere inches from hers for a few moments. God, you were fucking pretty. Your eyes seemed to sparkle despite the harsh gym lighting, and your parted lips were almost calling to her.

“You win,” you said softly from beneath her.

“Do I get a prize?”

“Wanna get drinks after this? On me?”

She smiled, reluctantly getting up from on top of you. “Hope you have your credit card ready.”

You took her outstretched hand, almost surprised at how fluidly she pulled you up onto your feet, until you remembered she was the strongest woman in the world, after all. The fact that she was getting drinks with you was a plus.

“I know a few places in my neighborhood, if you don’t mind going out to Brooklyn,” you said. “They’re kind of dives, but they’re fun.”

“That honestly sounds perfect.”

“Okay. I’m gonna shower and change really quick.”

She nodded. “Take your time.”

As soon as you disappeared into the locker room, Maeve looked down at her costume, internally groaning. It was the furthest thing from inconspicuous. In all honesty, she missed having a secret identity, the small thing that separated her from the persona that Vought manufactured for her. Whether for sentimentality or foolish hope of a situation like this one, she’d kept some of her street clothes. 

Glancing at the locker room again, she decided to rush up to her suite and throw on something that would afford the two of you some privacy. Tapping her foot impatiently, she waited for the elevator doors to open before slipping inside and pressing the button for her floor.

When she reached her suite, she frowned at the selection of clothing in her dresser. Touching one shirt, she felt a lump form in her throat. The somewhat coarse fabric sent memories rushing back, she’d worn it on one of her last dates with Elena, before she handed her whole life over to Vought and Homelander sunk his hooks into her. There was a slight stain on the sleeve, evidence of Elena’s wine glass that had tipped over when some asshole decided to make it clear that he didn’t approve of their date, so he had to make it the whole restaurant’s problem. When he started becoming aggressive, Maeve grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him over, knocking him into at least three other tables with the sheer force she used. That was the catalyst for her initially fake relationship with Homelander, as Vought’s marketing team decided it would improve her image after the incident. 

She exhaled, shaking her head as she tried grounding herself. Things could be different with you. She’d take back control of her life—from Vought, from Homelander, from her own self-sabotage. Her outfit choice for the kind-of-but-not-really date was simple. She ran her fingers through her signature styled waves, messing her hair up a bit to make her less recognizable. Seeing herself in the mirror, she smiled. For the first time in months, she looked and felt like herself.

Her phone buzzed, and to her relief, it was a text from you.

‘Hey! Ready to go when you are🍻’ 

Biting her lip, she retyped her response to you three times before sending, ‘Great be down in a min😄’ 

She instantly regretted her choice of emoji, but it didn’t matter, something that simple wasn’t going to ruin her night. After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she was asked out by someone she actually liked. You hadn’t explicitly said it was a date, but the tension was there, and Maeve hoped to god she wasn’t reading too much into things.

You were waiting in the gym for her, now changed back into your work clothes of a blouse and skirt. In the meantime, you had pulled up the info for some of the bars that you and your friends frequented in your neighborhood. She looked over them quickly, settling on a 70s-themed one you recommended based on the decor and cheap burgers. Her mind raced while the two of you walked down the hall and to the elevator, deciding to leave through a service corridor rather than the building’s main floor.

As the elevator made its descent to the lower levels of the building, Maeve figured she at least owed it to you to let you know what you were getting yourself into. She’d already put you at risk with the amount of time she was spending with you. You looked at her in confusion when she pressed the emergency stop. 

“You know this isn’t just drinks, right?”

You smiled a bit, “What is it then?”

“Y/N, I’m serious,” she said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Maeve, can you just be real with me instead of the cryptic shit?”

“Fuck," she groaned. "Okay, look. I’m into you, but Homelander’s a jealous son of a bitch who won’t let me have a life, so the fact that we’ve been spending time together and going out for drinks means you’re in serious danger.”

You were quiet for a few moments. She took your silence as an understandable rejection, moving to press the emergency stop button to bring you back up until you spoke. 

“I’ll take the risk.”

“Are you sure? Y/N, Homelander won’t hold back. I’ll do what I can to protect you, but–”

You looked at her, really looked at her, as she laid out the risks for you clear as day. It didn’t matter. You’d come to the conclusion pretty quickly that she was worth it. She was Queen fucking Maeve for Christ’s sake. Most importantly, though, you were into her too, and you’d never forgive yourself for passing up the opportunity to go out with her and see where things led.

As she was in the middle of listing ways Homelander could kill you, you interrupted her with a quick peck on the lips, enough to startle her out of her rant for a moment. That seemed to get the message through, because she kissed you, backing you into the elevator wall across from the closed doors. 

You parted your lips for her, happy to let her take the lead as she cupped your cheek in her hand, her fingers pulling your face closer to her. Even though she’d just pinned you to the floor less than an hour earlier, you were taken aback by how strong she was. She bit gently on your bottom lip, her teeth tugging at it before kissing you again. 

Groping one of your breasts through your blouse, she moved her hand further down your body until she reached your thighs, her fingers gently tracing undistinguishable patterns into your skin. You could feel her start to play with the hem of your skirt before sliding her hand beneath it.

You whispered a soft “yes” against her lips when her fingers brushed against the damp spot on your panties. Pressing her fingers against your core, she watched your face contort in pleasure as you whimpered for more. 

It felt like eternity before she finally pushed her hand past the cotton material and began teasing your clit, ignoring your aching pussy. She pressed hot, open kisses against your skin before settling on the crook of your neck, biting into the tender skin so hard you almost thought it would break. 

“Maeve, fuck,” you moaned.

“Too hard?”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Harder.”

Maeve grinned, slipping her index and middle fingers into your pussy, and you were almost embarrassed at how wet you were. She didn’t care, curling her fingers inside you, pumping them in and out until your breath caught in your throat. You gasped as you gripped her shoulders, trying to keep your legs from giving out from under you. Using her other hand, she held you up by your thigh, her fingers squeezing your soft flesh. 

You leaned your head back against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as she began rubbing her thumb against your clit, bringing her attention back to it as your pussy clenched around her fingers. She brought her lips to your ear, her teeth grazing your earlobe before she whispered, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“I’m close,” you barely managed to say.

“Don’t hold back. I wanna feel you,” she said, her voice raspy as she squeezed your thigh for emphasis. 

“Fuck–fuck, I’m–”

You came on her hand, fully relying on her strength to keep you up as she kept fingering you through your orgasm. Pressing her lips to yours, you were hardly able to kiss her back as you moaned into her mouth, your fingers clawing at the wall behind you as you tried getting a grip on something.

Finally, she pulled her hand from your pussy, and the one that had been holding you by your thigh wrapped around your waist to support you. She brought her hand to her mouth, licking your juices off of them so casually you wouldn’t have thought anything of it. You kissed her again, feeling lightheaded at the taste of yourself on her lips. Still, you figured someone must have noticed by then that the elevator wasn’t working. You didn’t even want to think about anyone finding you and Maeve like that, especially if Homelander ended up hearing about it through the grapevine.

“My roommate’s working the night shift,” you whispered, your voice noticeably hoarser than before. “I’ve got beer at my place.”

“Fuck the bar,” Maeve said, kissing you again.

You let out a yelp that dissolved into a fit of giggles as she literally swept you off your feet. She smiled, pressing the emergency stop button, sending the two of you back down to the service corridor you’d be slipping out into the night from.

[specialagentlokitty]

Rosa x Autistic!reader - for you

Hello!! Could you write a story with Rosa Diaz x female autistic reader where Reader is somehow a consultant for the 99th who helps them solve cases because criminology and psychology are her special interests and she's really good at it and is great with details no one else notices and wonderful at helping solve cases. She's very socially awkward but Rosa soon puts her under her wing and they become best friends and maybe things get romantic? Hopefully? Please! - Anon💜

You hadn’t planned on going into work today, but when got a call from Jake, you sighed and made you way in, finding him sitting at his head while staring blankly at his computer.

Walking over, you took the folder from his desk and walked away with it.

You didn’t talk much to any of them, you did your work and helped them with whatever it was they needed help with and then you’d leave again.

You didn’t like interacting with other people, and it was hard and awkward for you to talk to other people, even when it came to work.

You had finished getting Jake the stuff he needed and you were just about to call it a day when Rosa knocked on your door.

Looking up your gestured to the chair next to your desk and she walked over.

“Hey I know you probably want to go home, but do you think you can take notes of an interview I’ve just done? Somethings just not sitting right with me about it.”

“Why’s that?” You asked quietly.

Rosa began to explain her reasoning, and you knew if she had a feeling there was usually a good reason so you agreed.

She got the tape from the interview and you put it in, grabbing a pen and paper as you started to make notes.

Rosa noticed how at first you only took notes without looking at the screen, and she was curious.

“Why’re you taking them like that, aren’t you going to miss things?”

“I do it three times. One audio, one visual, one both.” You explained.

She nodded her head.

She wasn’t going to question you because she knew you were damn good at your job and you had never once led any astray so far.

Rosa went to get a drink and brought you one as well and carried on watching as you took notes, all three times just like you said you did.

You then set you notepad on the table and pulled a whiteboard over.

“Now what?” She asked.

“We compare. Link.”

She watched you again, never had Rosa seen anyone work quite like you did.

Rosa started to come to you more often when she had a case, or simply to watch you work because she was curious about how you managed it.

She saw how talking to people made you uncomfortable and you hated being put in social situations and so, she took you under her wing.

She would help you in social situations and talk on your behalf when you couldn’t, and in return you would show her how you work and let her understand how you managed what you did.

It was a good friendship.

And when you were both on a case together you were nearly unstoppable.

You started to like having Rosa around, you didn’t feel forced to talk if you didn’t want to, and most of the time you both just sat working in silence.

Sitting at home, you were watching one of your comfort shows when there was a small knock at your front door.

Getting up, you walked over and opened it to find Rosa on the other side. Stepping aside you let her in and closed the door.

“Why’re you here?” You asked, “is it a case?”

“No, it’s something different.”

Rosa looked around before turning around to face you.

You titled your head a little at her and she stuffed her hands into her pockets.

“Me, you and coffee. Yes or no?”

You furrowed your brows a little and she shook her head making her way back towards the door.

“This was a mistake. Last time I take advice from Holt.” She snapped.

She was halfway through the door when you quickly turned around to face her.

“Yes.”

Rosa froze in place.

“Serious?”

“Yeah…”

She turned around and you offered her a small smile.

“When?” She asked.

“Now?” You offered.

Rosa agreed and instead of going to a coffee shop or somewhere you made coffee at yours and you both sat at the table.

You both talked for what felt like hours, it was so natural.

Rosa loved how when it was just the you and her you could talk for hours about everything and anything, you were comfortable, happy around her.

Rosa smiled lightly as she listened to you talk about the show you were watching, trying to convince her to watch it with you but truth be told she didn’t need you to convince her.

All you had to ask and she would sit there for hours just to spend some time with you

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Mount Justice

Featuring West Virginia Gov. Jim Justice

I'm a 20 year old sophmore at West Virginia University when I heard there was an opening for aide at the governor's office. I immediately became interested as I wanted a career in politics. I signed up for the position and had an appointment for an interview days later. I entered the governor's office and his receptionist Carry, greeted me and told me to have a seat while she grabbed the doctor. Apparently, the assitant doing the hiring went home early due to a migraine and Gov. Jim Justice will be doing the interveiw himself. Now I was even more nervous as I waited to be called into his office.

Finally, after 10 minutes, his secretary escorted me into his office. I was surprised at how big he was as he stood. At 6'7" and nearing 400lbs., Justice was a big fucking bear of a man who towered over me. I’ll admit, I was a little intimidated by the sheer size of him with myself being only 5'8", 165lbs. He was wearing a suit coat, a button up shirt, actually very distinguished and mature looking.

He shook my hand and said thanks for coming and asked me to take a seat as he sat down on a sturdy stool. At Justice’s side was his grumpy-looking English bulldog, Babydog, who sat beside the governor in a cushioned dog seat.

Gov. Justice reminded me that I was his last interview and not to worry as he was going to give me equal time to qualify for the position. It started with small talk of my school year and what I got out of it and my future for college etc. While we talked, I gave him a look over. Justice was kinda “folksy,” calling himself a frog who’s proud of his pond. Not the most handsomest guy, but I'd still love to fuck around with him for a weekend. And for some reason with his dog, Babydog watching.

Gov. Justice mentioned he was down to 3 candidates who he was considering, I begged for the job telling him I'd do what it took to get the position. He asked me what I’d do the other two couldn’t do for me. Somehow or another I blurted out "I'll blow you."

"What?" Gov. Justice asked with a look of amazement.

I was silent and just looked at him waiting for him to say something else as he had his internal struggle. I knew Justice has well-documented issues with mobility owing to his weight and height, and recently underwent a gallbladder removal surgery. So he probably hasn't had sex in at least a month or more. So I chose to take things further, getting up and walking over to him as he sat there, not knowing what to do next.

"Gov. Justice, I'm willing to work long and tirelessly at ANYTHING you put in front of me." I said, watching carefully when I emphasized anything and saw all I needed to see.

His face turned red and just shook his head as if there was nothing I could do. A feral smile arose internally. My cock hardened at the thought of him and I having sex on the desk as I continued with my proposal.

"How long has it been since you had your cock sucked?" He froze at the question, calculating since his last sexual encounter no doubt.

"Gov. Justice… Does your wife she suck your cock every night and morning? Does she make you feel good?" I asked, noticing the patch of gray hair sticking out of the top of his light-blue knit shirt before fixing the collar of his shirt.

I slowly shook his head no. I smiled meekly, putting my hands on his massive thighs before I knelt in front of him. Licking my lips, I said, "Gov. Justice, can you give me just one chance to prove myself."

With his lips quivering, he nodded yes as I slid my hands up and down his legs. Thick legs have always been a turn on for me as I let my hands explore his beautiful legs.

Then I put on my most sincere face and thanked him while I unbuckled his belt so I could undo his pants. Gov. Justice stood up a bit so I could undo his slacks. I slid them down and was rewarded with a pretty decent cock and balls. It was about 6 inches, thick, veiny and most importantly, hard. I licked from the bottom of his shaft to the tip as he shuddered in pleasure. I took in his musky smell and it felt so erotic as I flicked the head of his prick, rolling his balls over in my palm. My tongue slid down the side of his cock and back up again, licking him with vigour as I felt my cock flutter uncomfortably in my jeans. I reached down and unzipped them, allowing my prick to fall out and leak precum onto the floor.

I grabbed the base of his cock and wrapped my lips around it, my tongue thrust against the shaft I swallowed half of his manhood and went to work. I could feel the veins on his cock as my lips glided up and down his shaft as his nuts bounced invitingly against my chin. I reached up and tugged at his nuts, my fingers curled around them and he moaned with satisfaction.

"Damn! You're good." The 72-year-old exclaimed as I deep throated his thick dick.

Just then, I felt his big hand grab my head and press it down, looking up with my mouth full of juicy cock, I saw his glazed over eyes and it told me everything I needed to know. I had him right where I wanted him as I continued my assault on his cock. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Babydog. I thought it was funny that his dog was watchuing us. Then suddenly all thoughts of the dog watching fled my mind as Gov. Justice as the old man leaned back on his stool and moaned.

"Wait… Suck my balls." The governor said as he suddenly pulled back causing his dick to slip out of my mouth with a pop.

"Suck them. I try to get my wife to suck my balls, but she won't." Gov. Justice said as he grabbed me behind the head and pulled my face back to his crotch.

I quickly took one of his hairy balls in my mouth and sucked gently on it, inducing a bear-like moan from him. Sucking harder, he cried out, started shaking all over as he let go of my head and wrapped his hand around his wet cock, stroking generously. I worked him into a frenzy, moving back and forth from one of his hairy balls to the other.

After a minute or two, he stopped again and grabbed me by the back of my hair and pulled me back onto his cock. I was lost as he started using profanity tell me harshly to suck his cock and get a drink off his hose. He was having fun with me, and I was loving every minute. I sucked deep and hard as well as soft and slow making this cock last, he had no problem as he was moving his hips in and out using my face to fuck as he pleased.

“Damn, this is hot!” Gov. Justice called out excitedly as he fucked my mouth faster and faster. “Get ready. I’m cumming! Damn! I’m cumming!”

Suddenly, Gov. Justice pulled his dick out of my mouth and shot his huge load onto my face as he held my head in front of his squirting dick. Looking down with approval as he squeezed the shaft to get another drop of his cum out before flopping his cock on my tongue. Then as he shook the last drops of cum from the piss hole of his dick, I stood up as my long fat dick sprung up and stood straight out from my body. It was so hard it was throbbing.

The old man's eyes got big as he glanced down at my long fat dick and then back to his and whistled. I smiled. I always like to surprise people with the size of my dick. Seems people always expected a guy like me to have a little cock. Well, I had a monster dick. Feeling obligated, Gov. Justice surprised me by reaching down and grabbing hold of my dick. Then the old man surprised me by reaching out and closing his hand around my rock hard dick. Now that was a special moment. The old man’s callused hand felt wonderful wrapped around my dick.

"Damn! What a cock! Shit, I bet my wife couldn't take that thing. GOD! Is it thick." Gov. Justice called out excitedly as he pumped his hand back and forth over the head of my dick before adding, "Hell, makes mine look small."

"GOD! I would love to have a dick the size of yours." He said looking into my eyes, pounding away at my engorged young dick.

Feeling his rough, bear-like paws on my cock was amazing as jacked it faster and faster. Just seeing his hair arm moving back and forth as he jacked me, filled me with such excitement that I quickly shot off in the governor's hand. When I finish cuming, Gov. Justice held his cum laden hand to my lips for me to lick my own cum. I did it. When he was finished, he leaned over until his face was almost touching mine and asked me when I wanted to start.

I replied "Start what?"

[dittaturamonegasca]

I think there should bé a fic where anyone from the grid would be third wheeling Landoscar, like, have you seen how these two interact.

So, I lack the ability and the time of f1writingbyme and LestappenForever to make this idea into a proper work like they did for "How (Not) To Third Wheel Lestappen" (check it out on Ao3 if you haven't already, definitely worth it) BUT BUT BUT, I can tell you how I think most of the grid would react in third wheeling Landoscar!

1) I feel like we should spare Checo, cause honestly this man has had enough as third wheel of Maxiel and Lestappen, I don't wanna give him extra traumas, SO –

2) Logan Sargeant: this one I really feel guilty about. Cause I like the narrative of him and Oscah being besties and still I cry over the sad edits of Logan just left behind. I think Landoscar with Logan has the most space for improvement?? I forgive Oscar even tho he definitely ghosted the poor Logan for the whole honeymoon phase with Lando (it's been almost two years, Osc, get a grip). I have a feeling Logan will speak up at some point and this would shake Oscar a little, so maybe he would be the more aware and more involved third wheel, possibly? They'll end up doing triple video-games championships with Lando and Logan mocking Oscar's gaming skills, mark my words.

3) Carlos Sainz: my man how does it feel to know you've wasted your chance (multiple chances, lets be real) for good? I have mixed ideas about this one, cause I think it would probably being more like Lando struggling to keep them both as close as possible resulting in Oscar being rightfully jealous 👀👀 so the third wheeling situation would be like Lando trying to involve a very annoyed and confused Carlos in their things (safe for work, ofc). I don't really see a way out of it.

4) Daniel Ricciardo: I mention him but I can't really explain cause honestly my idea of Daniel third-wheeling Landoscar is either him babysit them around Australia and bonding with Oscar over weird aussie habits OR OR OR something very NOT SAFE WORK so ( ... )

5) Max Verstappen: I love to think he'll remain an unbothered king, you know? Like he's well aware and a bit upset that his crepes companion invited someone else (beside from Daniel) to their dessert dates and that the two of them acts like lovebirds even without an actual physical contact. He'll probably send SOS texts to Charles and Daniel until a topic of (his) interest comes out and honestly at that point the power of maxplaining will win over pretty much everything and everyone. At the end of the day Landoscar turn out to be the real victims.

6) George Russell: poor thing was originally invited for a golf morning from Carlos (Landoscar were already supposed to attend), but Chili called off last minute so Georgie ended up with just the others two. LET ME TELL YOU he jumped off the golf cart cause he saw Lando placing a hand on Oscar's thigh and feared for his life. It took several minutes for them to notice he was aggressively walking behind. He was also hit by a golf ball because Oscar distracted Lando for a second too long, I guess you can figure out the rest.

7) Special mention to the PR and the McLaren team in general who's main job rn is having them to SIMPLY F O C U S outside the pit for like interviews and debriefings. I can picture Lando losing it after hearing a single compliment like "SO YOU THINK I'M PRETTY", cause ✨babygirl��� energy hitting here and there, even tho he has tried to be somehow a model for Oscar, at least for what concerns work. Indeed I pity trainers and strategists bc ofc Oscar listens at them, but image them trying to explain a concept to him just for Lando to get there and rephrase it in the dumbest way possible and Oscar going like OHHHHH NOW I GOT IT, COULDN'T YOU EXPLAIN IT THAT WAY?

8) This is mostly a guilty pleasure but do we all agree they torture the entire f1 group chat with their subtle flirting?

IDK if this was what you had in mind but I really REALLY had fun writing it.

So let me know what you think in the comments down below, if you agree or if you want me to make it longer and/or more detailed or just to focus on a specific one in particular?

Again, my dms and box section are open to discussions, requests and any sort of (respectful) thing!

PEACE OUT 🤌🏻❤️

[pyromaniacldrt]

So, my mind has been reclaimed by the Wild Kratts fandom, and I cannot escape.

So I´ll make random headcannons! (Disclaimer: These are not about the actual Kratt bros, I´m writting about the show)

STARTING WITH THE BLUE BOY.

Martin is an organized disaster; Alow me to elaborate. Martin has BIG trouble keeping himself of getting distractions or organizing at all, and yet somehow finds what he´s looking for.

He loves moving around and NEEDS to say hi to every animal and give them THE BEST NAMES, wich I personally belive is the reason he has more scars due to animal attacks than the rest of the crew (I can imagine him getting a bit too close to a grizzly cub and naming him Presley and his mom Mrs.Sharpclaw. I cannot unsee it. ).

Sometimes he´ll talk about animals for hours and compete with Chris to know who knows more about creatures. It´s a wonder how Tortuga hasnt been wrecked yet.

This guy here is a bit bilingual, unlike Chris who dosent quite understand new languages. Martin likes to learn new words in spanish with Aviva.

Also (based on that one interview where Martin said he at first wanted to be a veterinarian that mentioned someone in tumblr but I cant remember their name), Martin has some interest in the med area, and got even bigger after the Orangoutang episode.

He HATES to be still, specially after the tree episode. I think he probably hates small spaces and will not tolerate to be locked out.

I do personally belive he´s kind of the unnamed leader of Tortuga. While he´s not a strategist and is a total clumsy geek, this guy will act quickly and is very good under stressfull situations and making decesive decisions, even if he sometimes does not think it through (like in the Flying fish episode). He's a professional in his job and everyone forgets that sometimes.

Martin is the type of person to believe in second chances, and tries to see good in everything and (mostly) everyone.

BUT. Hurt his friends or/and (god forbid) his brother, and RUN. He'll catch you anyway, but is worth to try.

THIS IDIOT DOES NOT KNOW WHAT IS SELF PRESERVATION AND NOT BEING A HUMAN SHIELD.

Yet, he has the most consistent sleep schedule.

I like to think that he and Aviva were the first members of the whole Wild Kratts project, but it was far different, like some kind of lab in an island. Then Koki and Jimmy came and BOOM. Tortuga. Chris was the last member to officially join the crew, but he was there since the begining.

Martin can play MANY instruments, but only knows the cheesiest, most anoying and weird songs to ever exist.

He has used the "I´m the older brother and I´ll tell mom" Card on Chris way to many times.

Martin is the oldest member of the crew, wich makes him feel responsible for everyone and tries to protect them. Still, he´s just to silly to do so, and always gets distracted.

He can´t draw. Like, at all. Chris makes fun of that all of the time.

He´s a heartbreaker and he dosen´t even know. Like, he´s so oblivious to the fact that many people have a crush on him and he´s just like "You´re such a great friend haha!" after literally telling said person how pretty and awsome they are.

He´s got that blonde on him.

If it wasn´t for the fact that she´s a villain, Donita and Martin would be great friends.

Maybe I´ll make more parts, I dunno...

Pyro Out!

Psdt: He and Donita were in a situationship and Donita is not quite over him yet. Martin just wants her to leave the animals free in the wild.(He has no idea there was something between them in the first place nor did he realize he actually had a thing for her)

[icarus-suraki]

Got this as a reply ages ago on my Ao3 post:

Yes, even that story.

Ao3 is not a platform. Ao3 is an archive.

Okay, so, this story was definitely not for the you, commenter. That's all there is to it. Not every story is for every person. And that's just how it is. And it's okay. There's an old saying in librarianship: "Every book its reader; every reader, a book."

But rather than freaking out, maybe we ought to query why the creator wrote and posted that story.

Because if they wrote it with the intention to be shocking and transgressive, they clearly succeeded. You, commenter, are shocked and find the whole thing extremely transgressive. Conceptually, it's a bit like novels that say drugs are great. Or like any number of commercially published novels that take on graphic murders. Horror novels have some fucked up shit in them sometimes and people who enjoy exploring intense emotions and situations in a fictional context read those without engaging in those behaviors.

For the record, I read a lot of "transgressive" literature and I'm out in the world with a job and a place to live and an internet connection. Meanwhile, fans of Christian fiction can be some of the most vicious beasts I have ever encountered. Thoughts?

This particular example, though, is also interesting because it's like inverse zoophilia/zoosadism--the human is the victim here, somehow. Zooisms have been a hot topic in recent years--so does this story stir up personal reactions to that topic? Is that the intention? I'm not about to defend acting zoophiles/zoosadists because they're literally engaging in animal abuse. Like, that's a crime. (Was the dog in this story a German shepherd? It's always German shepherds for some reason with the zoos.)

Or is the concern that this is the author's kink? Because there's a lot of concern over kinks anymore and whether a kink is acceptable or whether kinks are acceptable at all. Who is this story for? Someone with a similar kink? Don't start on the "consuming porn leads to more porn and more violent porn until you're a sexually-motivated serial killer" line because that comes out of a Ted Bundy interview and we all know he was a consummate liar. Again: horror fans read some fucked up shit. Mystery novel fans read some fucked up shit, even if they say the "good ending" absolves them of that. And they're not killing people.

Engaging with an unusual interest or desire on a level removed from reality is a much safer way to engage with that interest than in reality. Fiction is not reality. Movies are not reality. Theater is not reality. BDSM is theater and theater is not reality. These are all things with a remove from reality, which lets one engage with an interest without harm to self or others.

I can guarantee you that there are stories just as, if not more, distressing to you, the commenter, in notebooks and computer files all over the world. They still exist though they aren't published. You don't have to have read a story like the above to find a socially dangerous interest like this. These things can arise in relative isolation. Source: I grew up before the internet became what it is now and I have seen some shit.

The fact that this particular story was posted online suggests a desire on the part of the author to share it. Why would they want to do that? To shock readers? To find people with similar desires? Publication/posting implies a desire for responses. Why do you think this story was written? Why do you think it was shared? Who is the intended audience?

I'm sorry this story upset you, commenter. It absolutely sucks to get blindsided by a story (or any kind of media) that you find upsetting. It's certainly happened to me and I didn't like it either. I have had a lot of religious anxiety for most of my life and getting surprised by Chick Tracts being left around in the bookstore where I worked was not a good time. So, yes, I sympathize.

But it's impossible to control what billions of humans are going to be saying, doing, writing, or interested in. You can't stop people from writing fucked up shit, as much as you would like to. The best thing you can do is create a system to alert others about what, if anything, might be distressing in a piece of media. This is why, if one is usual Ao3 like a lending library and not an archive, there are content warnings, age recommendations, and tags. You can't control what everyone else is doing, but you can and should protect yourself as much as necessary. And, yes, that does mean that you have to deal with things that you don't like existing in shared spaces in the world. You may have to work on coming to terms with that. And yes I am serious. I have had to do the same thing in my life.

Also I have a lot of questions. How did you find this story? Was it by accident or was it intentional? What was the story "about"? How was it written? Was it genuine or was it a troll? Was the dog cognitively on a level with a human? How canine/anthropomorphized was the dog in this story? Was this Scooby Doo fanfic? Was this werewolf fanfic? Are you concerned that dogs will read this story and go on to rape eleven year-olds?

So why would someone write a story in which an eleven year-old gets raped by their dog?

And, gang, I anonymized the commenter on purpose. Don't go seek them out.

[astermath]

hi! i'd like to ask a one shot on carmen berzatto in which the reader is an italian girl her early/mid 20s who works as a waiter at the bear and is sydney's best friend. her and carmen meet through her and they start secretly dating. the rest is up to you

thank you <3

hi!! I simplified your request a little,, it's more like a blurb / headcanon thing than a oneshot because I'm working on a long chapter for my nemesis series rn lol, hope that's okay!! thank you for the request angel! ♡

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

tags: sydney being a matchmaker somehow, not so secret relationship, exactly what it says in the ask lol, normal size font below!

wc: 0.9K

let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content!

+ when it comes to hiring waiters, carmen just wants someone who's experienced. someone who knows what they're doing and who can do it well. and quickly. this restaurant has to work, has to make everyone proud, and the staff has to reflect that.

+ sydney instantly thought of you as a reference. you'd worked at your family restaurant back in italy, and when you moved to chicago, had continued said occupation to support yourself in various restaurants. though none were as nice as "the bear".

+ so when your friend had called you up for an interview for a brand new restaurant with one of the most promising chefs of the country, of course you took the offer.

+ though carmen knew most waiters were usually... presentable, he didn't quite imagine you to be this fucking pretty when you showed up for the interview. he almost forgot every question he was meaning to ask when you walked through that door, all bubbly excitement and feminine flair.

+ he loved hearing you talk about your life in italy before moving to the states, your experiences working in the service industry, your passion for food and people... he almost forgot he was supposed to be conducting an interview at all, he just adored hearing you talk so much.

+ and sydney noticed too. she noticed the way he had such an easy time conversing with you, which is odd behavior for him, to say the least. she was just glad the two of you were getting along, and her friend had a chance of getting hired.

+ and of course you were hired. not only was carmy already hooked on you, but so was most of the other staff. your bright personality and quick witted comments were nice and refreshing when things got a little too stressful. plus, you worked fast and efficiently; what more could they ask for?

+ carmen’s interest in you remained. he knew it was a little wrong, since technically, yes, he is your boss. which is why he was a bit reluctant to do anything at first.

+ you were making all the first moves. giving him meaningful glances during quiet moments, helping him out with things that didn’t apply to your job position, staying later to help him close up and clean. even if it meant you’d be tired as all hell by the time you were home, at least you were spending time with him. to you, it was more than worth it.

+ and he seemed to think the same. carmen never thought the closing shift could be as fun as it was when you were there. these days he was almost fighting richie for it, claiming that it was more fitting for him anyways since it was his place after all.

+ late night shifts turned into walking you home. walking you home turned into hanging out at your apartment for a glass of wine. a glass of wine turned into kissing on the couch. kissing on the couch turned into staying the night… you’d fallen into a routine with him so easily, sometimes you forgot there was a time before carmen was in your life. it just felt so… natural. like it was always supposed to be like this.

+ and though you really liked carmen, you didn’t want to jeopardize your position at the restaurant. you’d finally found a stable, well paying job, it would be a shame if you lost it over a relationship with your superior. though sometimes, you wondered if it would be worth it. to risk it for carmen.

+ carmen agreed, and so the two of you continued to keep your relationship under wraps for the time being. it was for the better, and besides, it’s not like he talked much about his personal life to his colleagues either. well, except for sydney.

+ and boy did she have her suspicions. of course she’d find out eventually, she’s a very smart and observant person. she can figure out carmen so easily, so she’s definitely not oblivious to the sneaking glances and hidden smiles, or the way he always manages to stay behind with you at the restaurant. not even the hickey you tried so desperately to cover up with makeup slips past her radar.

+ but she doesn’t say anything, at least not for a while. she lets the two of you live out your little secret relationship, believing she doesn’t know, until she accidentally slips up about it.

+ you’re complaining about the noise in your apartment and your lack of sleep because of it, clearly frustrated, when sydney asks “why don’t you just sleep over at carmen’s again then?”

+ she doesn’t realise she’d revealed that she’s known all along, until you look at her like you just saw a ghost. you’re about to defend yourself and come up with some excuse, when behind your friend, you can see carmen standing at the bar, smiling to himself as he cleans the counter.

+ it brings you comfort to know that apparently, he doesn’t mind anyone knowing. the secrecy was more for you than for him if anything. you’re not his little secret, not at all, and that became very clear when he’d start talking sydney's ear off about you after. though she does find it annoying, she’s glad two very important people in her life have found each other and are making it work.

+ plus, it’s nice that you two always cover the closing shift.

+ though she has her doubts about what you two are actually up to alone in the restaurant past closing time.

tag list <3

@beebslebobs @thatone-brightstar  @spr3id  @deadandstill  @777iii  @magicboytrash ��@wiipes @sierrahhh  @crayzmarvelfan800 @azxulaa  @astridyoo15   @rexorangecouny  @azxulaa @jointherebellion215  @wolfiealina @dogdevourer 

[becauseimanicequeen]

There is a short piece in the My Stand-In trailer where Joe is in a wheelchair on a rooftop. How likely do you think it is that Joe has come back to his old body? I want this to happen so bad.

Hi, Anon.

I'm sorry to say this (considering you want this to happen), but I just don't think it's likely at all. And I'm basing my thoughts on what I've seen in the series so far (I haven't finished the novel, I'm only on chapter 43 which is around the 4th episode, so please don't spoil it for me).

Even though I was raised on soap operas (Days of Our Lives in particular), and am used to shit like this (and love it, lol), I don't think there will be another switch.

I don't think it's Joe 1.0 in the trailer for 2 reasons:

Up and Poom's comments in their interviews on iQIYI have dropped some spoilers, so I'm pretty sure Joe won't go back into his former body.

Since the transmigration is the only fantastical element in the story (at least of what we've seen so far in 7 episodes), and Joe is a stand-in basically in every part of his life (though I'm sure till will eventually change), I don't see how a switch back would be part of the story. I don't think that's the story they want to tell.

I also see there being 2 possible reasons for Joe being in that wheelchair:

He might have a relapse in his recovery. It's possible considering Joe 2.0 was in a coma for 2 years. However, I don't see this as being as likely as my 2nd option...

Which is that Joe has an accident doing his job. Since he's a stuntman, and we've seen it happen before, this is quite possible. It might be a sprained ankle or broken ribs, it doesn't have to be anything major.

I personally lean towards the second option because I feel like that has the potential to have the biggest impact on both Joe and Ming (and potentially even Tong).

It could allow Joe to reflect more on his mortality. Just because he got a second chance once, doesn't mean he'll get another one.

Depending on when this happens in the story it can either make or break Joe's willingness to be distant or close to Ming (depending on where they are in their relationship).

When it comes to Ming... Just imagine how he would react if Joe 2.0 (whom he might know is Joe 1.0 at that point) is in an accident. Just imagine how he would break down hearing about/witnessing Joe's accident. We saw how he reacted at the end of episode 7 when the guilt was so heavy it cracked him open. I don't think it will be any less emotional if Joe is in another accident (even though it's most likely just a minor one *hopefully*).

Another interesting thing the show might play with if Joe is in another accident at work is the potential that Tong might be involved in it somehow (directly or indirectly) since they're working on his movie (right now, at least).

We already saw in the 7th episode how the relationship between Ming and Tong has changed. Ming has drawn a hard line around Joe and Tong isn't allowed to cross it. It would be interesting to see Ming going feral on his "beloved" brother-in-law. It could potentially sever the connection between Ming and Tong for good, which could show Joe that Ming no longer cares about Tong in any particularly significant way.

Obviously, these are only speculations and I can't wait to see how wrong I am, lol.

Is it Friday yet?

Thank you for your ask.

[fizzy-dizz]

obsessing over lumiworth and I adore your art if you have any more or any headcanons please share

THANKS errrrmm i like these ones

Lum:

Makes the most AMAZING desserts and is always happy to share them with friends

Athletic. Mostly to perform nifty tricks for guests. He can also juggle and do all sorts of clownery

In his early 40s to me

Can't sleep still... has to toss and turn and shift sleeping positions like every 5 mins. This is why he needs a big bed

He can be forgetful so he tries to make the effort to write down important dates (birthdays, anniversaries, etc etc)

Hes got a very basic view on romance. Hes good with the roses, chocolates, promises unintended to keep. But not too good with the rest

I dont think he'd be up for marriage tbh hes a little playboy

THE WORST dad jokes but his jokes always land bc hes just says them with such charm

Was interviewed by Cogsworth for the position but was kinda informal abt it. Somehow he charmed his way into the job

Cogs:

Needs reading glasses‼️‼️

Actually quite physically strong (shitty stamina tho)

Enjoys desserts greatly

Very well-read, has general knowledge of most subjects. But he's particularly interested in art history

On that- I wanna think he has homeschooled Adam on several occasions

Loves the warmth of the sun as he's very used to cold weather all his life

Absolutely fine in French. He just doesn't speak it unless necessary (part of it is that English pride against Lu 😭) but when he does it shocks people everytime

Cat-person 💯

Very particular about his appearance. Keeping it FRESH mustache clean, hair brushed and neatly tucked, uniform tidy head to toe

Can't sleep unless he has like 100 blankets and pillows. He loves the warmth and the weight calms him

He NEEDS background noise while he works. Maybe in part of his time (lol) as a clock hes used to constant ticking, maybe in part of if the castle is too quiet then something is wrong

Anyone who has more to add please do :)👀

[areyougonnabe]

I'm nearly 150 pages into Worst Journey and Priestly keeps showing up and he is telling me so many interesting things but I'm still not sure what his Job is on this expedition all Cherry's told me is that he A) wrote a book and B) served with Shackleton and I have discerned that he Takes Photographs which is Important!!! But I am wondering if he is also perhaps. A geologist or something? PLEASE HELP.

LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT SWEET BABY RAY

this stylish dude began his polar career when he was chosen to go on shackleton's nimrod expedition in 1907. he was a geology student at bristol university at the time, only two years into his degree at age 20 and without any qualifications to speak of. shackleton asked him two questions in the interview (“Would you know gold if you saw it?” “Can you play a musical instrument?”) and then he was hired!

he mainly was like... the Young Man of the expedition (alongside brocklehurst who was his age but brocklehurst's role was the Rich Kid) ... the most notable incident was when he slept outside a tent during a blizzard on mount erebus (bc there wasn't room for him inside 😭), got pushed down the hill by the wind in his sleeping bag and nearly died. but he was ok!!! didn't even lose any toes!!! unlike that loser PHIL

(bb priestley on nimrod. early in his baldness journey)

there were two other qualified geologists brought along on the expedition, Edgeworth David and Douglas Mawson, who he learned a lot from, and after the expedition he spent time in Sydney cataloguing and studying the Antarctic samples underneath Professor David. this led to him getting picked right back up by Scott again when one of the Terra Nova's geologists dropped out due to tuberculosis and he asked David who he should take instead.

he wasn't part of the main cape evans party on scott's expedition but was instead the geologist for the Eastern Party, which became the Northern Party and ended up having a ludicrously bad time, trapped in a tiny ice cave for six months. (for more about that check out The Longest Winter!!)

but they rescued their own asses and ended up all getting out OK. while waiting to get picked up by the ship, priestley and debenham hung out at shackleton's cape royds hut (where priestley had lived back in the day) and sketched out the plans for what would eventually become the SPRI!!!

after the expedition, all the scientists went home to england and hung out at priestley's family home in tewkesbury while working on their scientific results. this had the hilarious consequence of two of his sisters getting married to his expedition friends (Doris to Griffith Taylor and Edith to Charles Wright). and deb missed out somehow... tough luck bro.......

(baldness journey well advanced. he is transforming into mark gatiss)

aaaand after that a lot of stuff happened.. like the war.... he got a degree in agriculture (?) then helped deb and wordie found the SPRI, and eventually became a career university administrator. he was very active in lecturing about the antarctic throughout his whole life! and even went back as a tour guide for prince philip in the 50s lmao

in conclusion: priestley you have to stop. you smoke too tough. your swag too different. your bitch is too bad. they'll kill you

[earthtokhal]

RE: EMOTIONAL DR POST.

Formula 1 wasn't a foreign sport to me, my uncle and cousins all loved it for as long as I can remember but my father was more of a bat and ball sports guy, so instead of watching the likes of Ricciardo, Hamilton, Vettel and Rosberg, my days were filled with the Pollocks, the De Villiers and the Warners.

But I found Daniel Ricciardo one evening in 2022 as I was scrolling through Netflix. I found DTS and decided to give it a try to finally pay back my cousin for taking interest in something else I liked. She did it for me, I'd do this for her but more so, I needed a distraction.

You see, my favorite band, BTS had just put a hold on their career. My favorite member, Seokjin was going to be enlisting in the South Korean army in a few months and soon after the rest of them would follow. It was something that we knew was coming but something no one could truly prepare for.

But being the ever anxious soul who would rather change the course of things rather than let it happen and experience it then, I knew that it would be something that would hit me hard. Seokjin would be gone for two years.

And it was odd, and slightly embarrassing because I was a then 27 year old with a big girl job and family responsibilities absolutely losing my mind about my comfort person being gone for 2 years. Incredibly parasocial, I know. But the year had been hard, I had covid, I lost my father, my best friend was still all the way in South Korea and I had new responsibilities that I was still coming to terms with.

I had met my best friend through BTS and we had spent many hours talking about them, writing fiction and now we didn't know how to navigate this. Well, I didn't. She's much stronger than I am.

My intention was solely to have a distraction, and to maybe get some information to talk to my cousin about the sport she had loved since she was a kid but the second that guy, with the curly hair and big grin sat in the interview chair and opened his mouth, I was hooked.

"I'm Daniel Ricciardo and I'm a car mechanic."

I was so incredibly taken by him that I somehow went from season 1 to season 3 in just a few days and got my best friend hooked too.

I had found my new hyperfixation, someone so incredibly like Seokjin. It's weird that I say that because I don't know either of them personally but Daniel was incedibly "welcoming."

Unfortunately for me, by the time I did find the series and ultimately the sport, his exit from Mclaren was already announced and so I watched the remainder of the season with that in mind, I just found him but I am about to lose him. In those few races, I watched in 2022, I had the full experience of being a Danny Ric fan, the happiness when he qualified well, the joy when he was able to get a good strategy and absolute elation when he got solid points but I also experienced the lows, the change of the steering wheel, COTA 2022 and then the goodbye but somehow it didn't feel like this.

I was genuinely upset that he didn't want to go to Haas. For my own gain, I wanted him to join a team immediately so that I could have him just a little while longer but he didn't. I remember getting so incredibly angry with that F1 presenter who saying that he should have taken the seat despite him just telling them that he needed a break mentally.

And after the most grueling year of my life, this millionaire, Aussie sportsman showed me that it's okay to take a break even when nobody else thinks you should.

He left the sport that day with rumours surrounding him that he would join Mercedes and Red Bull as their third driver. I was so happy that he spent his last race fighting with the man he spent some of his first years in formula 1 fighting alongside, Seb. Daniel eventually got that point and I thought, Seb is for sure leaving so he deserves this goodbye, Daniel isn't completely going. He'll get his some other time. (lol)

A few days later, we found out he joined Red Bull and silly me, despite their history of cruel sacking, I thought it would be different here. He will be treated well, this is his team.

Daniel fought, I do not care about the revision people did of his career and those who claimed he didn't show his worth in his time with AT/RB. He fought!

He was out of the car for 8 months and put in a lap time that would have put him next to Max. He came back and matched Yuki immediately, he got absolutely shafted by Zhou and brought the car back to p13.

And in Spa, he pushed the car so hard that he ended up with a lap time deleted but for me, it felt good. He felt comfortable enough to absolutely send it.

Then the rollercoaster of Zandvoort. I was so incredibly scared that we would lose him again and somehow he pulled through, he came back and gave that useless team a p4 in quali and their highest finishing position. No dnf's infront of him, that was all him.

This year, I hoped it would go better for him but he was on the back foot from day 1. Whether the chassis was ready broken or not, we will never know but what I do know is that the second they changed it, he started performing better. Points tell a different story but he has very much been the better driver since at least Canada.

He tested the set ups for them, he gave them the feedback. Hell, he brought them the sponsors.

In the end, he did every single thing he needed to. He was told to perform and boy, did he perform. The seat was never going to be his because he was never going to buy it.

And if this is truly the end, then I hope he decided. I hope that he saw the team for what it truly is and he walked out.

I wish he got a better goodbye, I wish he was able to stay until the end and more importantly, I wish he could have announced it himself. I wish Red Bull actually stood by him like they said would, I wish he never was caught in between this inner political war happening in Red Bull. I wish the media just left him alone and I wish that after Mclaren, that his management team had protected him better.

But, I also hope that this return to the sport was what he hoped it would be, I hope he knows that his talent and career is not defined by his Mclaren stint or by what people try to make it out to be. His competitors from the seven time world champion right down to those who drove alongside him for a few races, hold him in such high regard because he is and will always be THAT guy.

I hope even after all this, he could return whether with Audi or if they ever decide to get that guy out of the RBR seat and I hope then, he gets the goodbye he truly deserves.

But Daniel Ricciardo, you have been a light to so many people. You are the reason the sport has become so big and so commercialized, the reason teams are able to get these insane sponsors now.

Thank you for the journey and for affording me the chance to watch you race post Mclaren.

To me, You are Formula 1 and you will always be.

"May your trials always end in full bloom. "- August D- So far away.

[anons-has-hlvrai-aus]

The Metamorphosis of Gordon Freeman [Chapter 7]

Life Goes On, And I Have Errands to Run

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: Gordon runs some errands, Benrey runs amuck. Worms are bought, and nightmare drinks are made.

Word Count: 4,849

Ao3 Version Link

Notes: Shout out to Dims from the server I’m in who contributed the drink combination used for The Ultimate Bad Flavor.

Following his impromptu lesson in noclipping, a good chunk of the night was spent eating takeout pizza and planning out an unusually eventful Sunday afternoon; Gordon didn’t really plan anything other than Movie Night on Thursdays and the trips to Pirate Scott’s with his Normal Friends once a month, but he was in a position right now where he had to plan the whole day ahead because he had a lot of stuff that needed to get done, and none of it could be put off for later. This wasn’t him dedicating all day for a job interview that wouldn’t happen until 3 pm, this was a fully planned out day of Important Things that had to be done.

He normally would have just left Benrey to his own devices while he went and got his first tasks done and then come back for the grocery trip, given their importance, but Gordon was still uncertain about the possibility that he might accidentally clip through something in public and need Benrey’s help…so he brought him in for the long haul. It would save on gas, at the very least, and it also gave himself an opportunity to watch how Benrey acted in public so he could assess what needed to be worked on.

The drive took them through Poastgame Square, no more or less bustling than the neighborhoods at this hour and day of the week. It was about 8 right now, there would be significantly more activity closer to lunch time, which made this a better time than any to get stuff done.

Benrey pressed against the window on his side of the car, seemingly fascinated at the many small businesses that lined the square, the water feature that stood in the center of town, and the well-maintained park it resided within. He’d driven Benrey exactly two times prior, on the night they became re-acquainted and the afternoon that had followed. Both times, they'd gone in the direction away from the square, so he supposed Benrey had a right to be amazed.

“Bro you live next to all of this?”

Gordon hummed in affirmation.

“…it’s a nice…very cool…”

The rest of the drive was mostly quiet, complimented only by the voices of Queen and Fleetwood Mac and Rolling Stones on the radio station at minimal volume, partially deafened by a thin layer of static, as they cruised to their first destination.

…

Gordon most definitely needed his gym tag. He paid good money for that yearly membership, and he was only just starting to get back into the groove of things following the first manifestation of his powers; there was no way in hell he was going to break his streak again just because he lost his keys. Besides…this gym had a pool, and it would be opening up near the end of spring. Gordon promised himself he’d get back into swimming, even if he knew for certain his background of having done anything of the sort in high school was a fabrication, and he wanted to get his reps started as soon as possible.

He honestly felt kinda shit about not having any sort of extra summer activities sooner. He’d been taking up ice skating with Coomer during the winter for almost two years now, and he’d only now decided to try regular swim activities with Bubby this summer (the older man’s interest had honestly come off as a surprise to Gordon). He wasn’t even sure why it bothered him so much, but it did; it felt like he was…abandoning the team somehow by not spending enough time with them equally. But…that was silly, and sounded like something somebody would say if they were clingy, or had attachment issues, or had trouble letting go of things.

And Gordon most certainly was not any of those things. He just wants to spend time with His Boys. Nothing clingy or attachment-issuey about it. And he definitely didn’t have trouble letting go of things.

He just really, really wants to spend time with His Boys. And if he was going to do that, he might as well start planning stuff for Spring and Autumn as well. The pollen season in spring was ass, but he might as well do something with it…maybe skateboarding? He was pretty sure he’d seen Tommy skateboard before; he didn’t do enough with Tommy. He needed to coordinate something like that.

And then he needed to do something for autumn, too. Later, of course.

“Stay near me.” He instructed Benrey upon exiting the car. “They won’t let you past the front desk without a tag, so there’s no use trying to explore.”

The not-human’s eyes darted around upon them entering the gym. Treadmills lined the wall nearest to the double-doors and all sorts of weight-lifting equipment filled up the space in the middle. To the immediate left of the entrance was another set of double doors leading to the currently-empty pool. Just a few feet across from them was a desk, accompanied by a friendly-looking clerk whom Gordon immediately went over to talk to.

He explained, in vague terms, the loss of his membership tag and provided what he thought necessary to prove the authenticity of his claims, just in case the phone number wasn’t enough. He kept an eye on Benrey through his peripherals while somewhat listening to the clerk’s explanations for replacing the tag. He showed his phone number, slid over a printed version of the email he’d gotten when first getting the membership, and then a minute later his credit card for the replacement fee.

Sweet, simple mundanity…

He could quickly tell Benrey was bored by the location, probably because he didn’t understand what half of the stuff here did. For a moment, Gordon began to wonder how his metamorphosis would mess with his gym routine, beside having taken a few weeks off to get practice in for his Sweet Voice.

Was Benrey super strong? Did he have more endurance than a normal human? Oh god, did they even have the same organs and muscle structures as a human? Would human exercise still work the same? He’d have to inquire in the car, preferably sooner rather than later.

Unfortunately, ‘sooner’ could not come soon enough. The clerk was taking a long time to get a new gym tag printed, and the tag maker, Gordon recalled from when he first got the membership, was finicky at the best of times.

A little flicker of cyan and…magenta(?) light hiccuped from Benrey. He covered his mouth almost immediately, to Gordon’s relief. To Gordon’s confusion, however, his brain didn’t immediately spit out a translation in the form of a single rhyme, but rather two separate and vague ones:

‘Cyan colors, can’t you tell, mean that I am overwhelmed?’

‘When magenta is around, the whole meaning is switched around.’

So…what? Cyan means Benrey would be overwhelmed, but any magenta means he has to swap it?

What’s the opposite of overwhelmed?

Underwhelmed?

Or, wait…bored? Yeah, bored, just as he figured. Benrey was bored. But…to the point of it being too much, though? How do you get too bored?

Benrey was playing with the hem of his shirt again, fidgeting excessively with it.

‘I have a lot of visitors and need to do something to keep my hands busy when I talk to them’ echoed a familiar voice, almost mocking.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, this isn’t the same thing.

‘It totally is.’ Said the irrational thoughts. ‘He’s understimulated. Look at how much he’s fidgeting.’

He did the same thing when he first got here and started explaining his video games.

‘It’s not that deep, dude. Multi-purpose stimming.’

Shut uppppp.

“Here’s your new tag, sir. Sorry for the wait.”

He took the tag, stringing it around his (much clunkier and less likely to get lost) car keys. “Oh it’s-it’s no problem! Have a good one!”

“You too, sir.”

Oh thank god that was over.

He and Benrey both let out heavy sighs as soon as they settled into the car.

“…Good…good job, team.” Gordon mumbled to hide his clear anxiety about…everything.

“That was the third worst experience of my life.” Benrey, significantly more blunt about his feelings, did not hold back how he felt either verbally or with the sweet voice.

‘Orange and danger-y means I am anger-y.’

“What are the first two???”

He just…stared at Gordon.

“Hey random question. H-?”

“Random answer.”

“Please don’t interrupt me.” Gordon sighed, “How fucked is my exercise routine gonna be, now?”

After a couple minutes of silence, Gordon revved up the car so they could get to Ace Hardware. He couldn’t help but follow Benrey’s example with his own worried bubbles of curry-yellow Sweet Voice.

He felt remarkably thankful that his windows were tinted, so nobody had to see their display.

…

Ace Hardware was a much more manageable stop. The key cutting would only take about five minutes on its own, and Gordon had simply asked that Benrey stay within his line of sight if he wanted to explore the store, a statement which he immediately regretted.

Benrey did as he was asked just fine, but in the few seconds that Gordon had looked away, he had somehow come back with a stack of those stupid paper slip things that were found in the painting section.

“They’re free, what does it matter?”

“We aren’t painting the house anytime soon.”

“But they look nice. I wanna keep them as bookmarks.”

“You can keep…three. Put the rest of them back.”

Benrey obliged, coming back with orange, bright yellow, and dark green swatches.

“Was that so hard?”

Benrey didn’t reply.

Gordon didn’t push it too much, especially now that his key had finished being copied. Benrey being quiet was just something he accepted as an oddity when he was promoted with certain questions.

He looped the new key next to his gym tag once they had properly exited the hardware store, now leaving them with the most important task of the day: grocery shopping.

…

He’d chosen a good order for today’s tasks, it seemed: first a situation where Benrey needed to stay in one place, then a situation with more room to move while partially supervised, so theoretically the last situation would give him (mostly) free reign while with Gordon.

Unfortunately, he didn’t trust Benrey to be set loose in the grocery store, no matter how nice it would be to ask him to go find This item in That aisle. He needed to earn that trust, and he couldn’t do that unless he observed Benrey’s typical in-public behavior. Nevermind the fact that a couple weeks prior he had considered ‘accidentally’ abandoning him at the hospital; the fact he didn’t do that was a clear show of Gordon’s character that he was willing to make the tough yet morally correct decision to take Benrey back home.

“Can you stay within, like, 10 feet of me and within my line of sight while we’re here.” He pleaded.

The response he got was a quiet “yup,” slight emphasis on the ‘puh’ sound at the end.

Despite his distaste for crowded spaces, Gordon was somewhat fond of the grocery store. There was a sort of zen in the colorful packaging everywhere and the arrangement of items that appealed to his need for order when all of his ‘formative’ ‘years’ happened in the single most chaotic week of his current existence. Maybe his enjoyment for the fine art of object placement could net him a job to stock the shelves, he was at least partially certain that grocery stores would hire anybody that asked nicely enough. The only major problem was that people could be mean to retail workers…and Gordon lacked the arrogance to put himself into a situation that could stress him into unlocking a new, dangerous power.

How long would it take for him to learn everything he could? Long enough that getting a job before The Inevitability happened wouldn’t even be worth it? He’d already canceled all of his job interviews to dedicate himself to alien puberty bullshit, what were the chances he still had time for anything by the time he finished?

Too many questions, and the one guy he could trust for answers was a coin flip on whether or not he’d actually provide them.

They passed by the aisle where stuff that didn’t firmly fit into either food, medicine, or hygiene was all shoved together. The far side had a dedicated shelf labeled for clearance items and was always filled with out-of-season candy and whatever loose toys that normally dangled around the cereal aisle had gone unsold. The other shelves were cheap crock pots and blenders and other devices that would have a much better chance at a yard sale than here.

Despite this, something on the shelf caught Benrey’s eye.

“Hey.” He pointed at a red and blue box. “Can we get uh, suppy maker?”

‘ICEE SLUSHIE MAKING MACHINE’ read the front of the box. It prided itself in being able to make half a gallon of the frozen drink ‘In minutes’.

Gordon shook his head. “We are not getting that. I know what I said about you getting something, but I am not getting that. Do you have any idea how often this thing is gonna get used? Like, twice, and then it will slowly decay from consistent disuse.”

“You dunno that.” Benrey said defensively. He almost sounded hurt by the refusal.

“No, but I am allowed to have hunches.”

The not-human looked at Gordon blankly for a bit before responding “Okay.”

Okay, problem solved! It was always nice when things wrapped up quickly.

“Can we get normal sippy, then?”

Was Benrey was just thirsty? It seemed a bit short-sighted of him to conclude a whole machine was the answer as opposed to just asking for a slushy.

He sighed. “If this was a Target, I would happily oblige. But a Target this is not, so, uh, maybe later.”

“Hey.”

“What?” He held back the annoyance in his tone as well as he did the angry bubbled that he let flush into orange around the edges of his vision.

He hadn’t anticipated Benrey’s next question.

“Do I get uh, heist money share?”

“Dude you-!” Gordon hastily shushed the short man. “You can’t be talking about that in public.”

“Why not? It happened in a different game. No bounties on our heads.”

“That...I know that, we just…” It took a minute for Gordon to use his words. Were he not in public, he would have actually preferred to use the Sweet Voice for this conversation. “…people can listen in and might get the wrong idea. Getting arrested today would really, really suck.”

Benrey looked at him with another vacant stare. It always felt off to not have a facial journey to read, the best that Benrey could do was scrunch his eyebrows to assure that he was in deep thought.

“I still want my share though?”

Gordon felt like a deflated balloon. “There was no share, it all stayed in the other game.”

“Aw man. Broke-back Benrey.”

“Your back doesn’t seem broken to me.”

“No, like the movie. With the mountain. There was a horse in it-”

“I don’t think I know that one!” He shushed Benrey again. He didn’t want another confusing summary for something probably made up. “Let’s finish the groceries so we can get you a slushy.”

“Aw, fuck yeah. Slorpy and pizzaaaa combo from uh, RickMick.”

“I don’t-” Gordon held back a snicker. The insistent mispronunciation of ‘slushy’ was not lost on him. And…RickMick? The fuck did he mean by that? Unless… “I’m assuming you’re talking about QuickTrip?” His voice cracked a bit. “I don’t think we have those in New Mexico.”

“Shit.”

Gordon held back a horrible noise. “I’m sorry man, we don’t have those here.”

“Can’t fucking believe this-”

“Dude we need to watch our language. There’s kids here.”

“Oh fuck, my bad.”

The dam broke, the aisle became rapidly infested with Gordon’s laughter. He knew that this wasn’t a good look for him, and it especially wasn’t the kind of behavior he needed from Benrey, but he had been so caught off-guard by ‘slorpy’…everything after that made it hard not to laugh.

“I’m gonna-Gordon…Gordon needs a moment.”

Benrey had a grin that he, after living together for a couple weeks, only now recognized was the non-human trying to non-verbally convey that he was fucking around. The antecedent of ‘Benrey saying something that absolutely floors Gordon’ being ‘Benrey making That Face’ made logical sense: if he was truthful about having taken his earlier jokes with Gordon too far, then providing a clear indicator that he was trying to have fun was a given to prevent a repeat incident.

That shark-toothed grin stood-out from Benrey’s more LaCroix-esc displays of emotion, and it kinda had to if he wanted to get his intentions across; Gordon was less likely to get mad about such antics if informed ahead of time that he was trying to make him laugh without outright stating it.

Clearly, it was working.

After a few minutes, Gordon was able to steady his breathing. A few giggles still escaped, along with some bubbles of green that he covered his mouth to hide.

Something bumped into his upper arm. Thinking it was another customer trying to get by, Gordon attempted to apologize and move out of the way before noticing that it was Benrey, butting his head against the appendage.

“Is this another imprinting thing?”

“Nah.” Benrey stood there, keeping his head pressed against warm skin for a moment and staring down where his organic arm ended and the prosthetic arm began. After that he put some space between them, as if the interaction never happened. “Can we look here a bit longer please?”

“I’ll tell ya what-” Gordon sighed as a particularly persistent irrational thought took hold. “I’ve got to grab some cheese and meat from the deli section at the other end. You can look around while I wait.”

“Yes!”

Oh he was absolutely skewing his results by doing this, but…Benrey seemed to be happy. Not that his happiness was a requirement for anything, not in the slightest! But he did say Benrey could get something from the grocery store, and he would still let him despite the fact that he already got some of those paint swatches earlier and would be getting a slushie later. They made an agreement, Gordon was gonna stick to it.

Before he pushed the cart forward, he noticed a…tiny discrepancy in the form of his other hand being a little bit phased through the metal cage that was holding all his groceries. He hadn’t even noticed the usual sand-papery sensation, but his hand was clearly there. Benrey noticed too.

“Focus…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know…focusing…”

Gordon thought carefully about breaking the surface tension of water, applying that to his hand being in a very solid object, and pairing it again with the ‘video game ability toggle’ analogy that Benrey liked to use. The hand came through cleanly, as if combing through sand or grazing through the beams of light that peeked through his window blinds in the morning. He’d hardly felt anything, it was almost miraculous how seamless his thoughts and wants influenced his ability to perform what was nothing short of magic. But it made sense…it had been explained in finer details by the non-human that clipping was pretty much the atoms of your body vibrating so fast that it convinced all other atoms that got in the way to gently let you by and even share space with you when necessary. It didn’t explain how they didn’t lose the circulation of their bodies when half-clipped through an object, but it wasn’t something that needed overthinking…it would only stress Gordon out more.

Benrey hummed at the handiwork (pun not intended) and managed a smile before attending to his business in the clearance section.

…

Gordon ended up bumping into one of Adrian’s guys, a man named Boyd Beaf, while at the deli section. This was a pretty standard encounter, Gordon met Boyd in the grocery store more often than he did any other bootboy in any other location, so they often struck up a conversation and parted ways as soon as one of them got their selection of meats and cheeses.

The conversation itself today was…nonstandard at best, and fucking weird at worst. It wasn’t because of a topic of interest or anything, although he sorta wished it had been. To be completely honest, Gordon couldn’t actually remember anything about the conversation. He knew a conversation happened, but any attempt to recollect what was talked about came up completely blank.

That wasn’t the fucking weird part…

This wasn’t like with his conversation with The Player where he could remember bits and pieces when they were relevant, he literally couldn’t remember any of it. It was closer to when he blacked out for fast travel, knowing something happened but having no memory of it other than tv static. One moment he was at the deli section, the next he wasn’t.

That wasn’t the fucking weird part either…

Neither was the fact that somewhere in his empty moment he had moved from the deli section to the clearance aisle, nor the fact that he came back with cyan and red (robin’s egg and wine…) sweet voice everywhere.

The weird part was that he came back to two pipe cleaners with googly eyes staring back at him and was immediately asked “Y’sure they’re okay?” by a familiar voice.

There was worry in Benrey’s tone as he held up the cheap toys.

Gordon had to back up to fully process where he was, and only then had he fully realized that he had spaced out.

He never did that in public.

That wasn’t normal.

Something had happened, but he wasn’t sure what.

He looked at the items and immediately recognized what they were. The packaging clearly read ‘Squirmle’, The Internet called them ‘Worm on a String’. He knew what they were, regardless. There was a single pipecleaner ‘worm’ curled up in each of the two plastic confinements that Benrey held (orange and blue in color).

Gordon looked in his shopping cart. The meats and cheeses he normally got were all there.

He looked back at Benrey.

He was…confused about the whole thing.

The not-human seemed to pick up on the confusion, but not enough to be of any help. He asked the question again. When all he got was a blank, puzzled expression (not too unlike the one Benrey usually gave Gordon with most questions), he shoved the worms closer into Gordon’s face. “This could be us…”

“I don’t…” He shook his head, “I don’t think I’d want to be a worm.”

“Would you…still love me if I worm and were? Play-Doh love?”

Gordon gestured frantically. “What????” He looked Benrey’s fucked-up impression of a sad anime character in the eyes and ultimately decided that there was no point in confusing himself further. He waved the worms away. “Whatever, you can have them.”

“Nice.”

If whatever the fuck happened to him happened again, he’d try to ask about it. It was all just too similar to fast travel to be a coincidence, but why would his brain suddenly decide to fast travel at the grocery store?

That’s the part that confused him. Why the grocery store? And during a conversation, even?

Hopefully, he would get answers soon, or that this would just end up being a one-time occurrence…

Benrey nudged for Gordon to get moving to the frozen goods sections, he obliged.

After all, they had groceries to get.

…

“Are you…not going to drink the slushie?” Gordon grimaced at the concoction that Benrey had been holding since they left the gas station. He had watched in horror when what he thought would just be a normal, larger than normal frozen Coke-a-Cola drink morphed into a nightmare part way through; the toxic waste had been additionally concocted with blueberry, raspberry, and mango flavor, which maybe would have been a fine combination if not for the Coke-a-Cola being used as the base of the sickening slushie. Even more horrifying was what Benrey did once they had parked in the driveway.

He looked at Gordon, blank-faced as always, and with no fear of repercussion told him “no.” He then proceeded to crack open one of the iced coffees that they had gotten at the store (they both tolerated the drink more than normal coffee and as such had plenty to spare) and poured it into the already stomach-churning beverage, using the straw to mix it all together like a cauldron of witch’s brew.

Gordon felt increasingly more ill the longer he beheld the lovecraftian creation.

“Why?” Was all Gordon could ask before he pried his eyes away long enough to keep himself sane.

“This is for a friend.”

He was pretty sure a drink like that would kill a normal man. He was also pretty sure that the friend Benrey had made the drink for in question was Tommy, and could feel nothing less than disquieting concern as he wondered what the man could have done for Benrey to give him such a miserable gift for seemingly no reason.

“Lemme help with groceries.” Benrey said calmly, hoisting the drink off to the house so he could come back and turn himself into a living coat hanger of grocery bags. It wasn’t even hyperbole, Gordon had seen Benrey carry all the grocery bags at once with both arms in the past, and he easily did so now when he came back outside. In hindsight, that alone should have made it evident that the alien puberty was going to fuck up his exercise routine, but Gordon hadn’t been thinking about that at the time.

There was a slow knock at the door while they were unloading their goods.

“Why’s Tommy here?” Gordon asked, fear in his voice.

Benrey wordlessly hovered to the front door, cursed drink in hand.

“Oh god…”

“Tommy!!!” Came an excited bellow upon the door swinging open. The horrible drink was swiftly presented. “Happy late birthday.”

Tommy looked at it, not with disgust or fear…but with equal amounts of excitement. “Oh my goodness! You brought, uh, you resurrected The Ultimate Bad Flavor just for me?”

“Yeah!”

Gordon continued to slowly put away groceries while witnessing this terrifying exchange. This wasn’t a cruel punishment for anybody except for Gordon, who not only had witnessed the apparent rebirth of the drink, but also its consumption within his own house.

Tommy practically evaporated the drink in just a few minutes while Benrey relayed his and Gordon’s day. Offhandedly, the slushy machine at the grocery store was brought up, which Tommy found hilarious. He also took the color swatches from his pocket, handing the bright yellow one to his friend.

“I need to find more gifts. Make up for missing so many birthdays.”

“You don’t have to, it’s not-you didn’t know how long you would be gone for. It’s okay.”

“So it was all just…gifts for Tommy?” Gordon asked aloud. They were friends, it made enough sense.

Benrey nodded.

“Could’ve fucking…told me beforehand. If I knew what you were doing, I would have been more partial about the Slushie Machine at the grocery store.”

“I did though. I told you yesterday about missing Tommy’s birthday.”

“How was I supposed to put together that one panicked statement from last night was connected to your activities today?”

Benrey stared blankly for a moment. “Yeah I kinda fucked up that one, huh?”

Gordon inhaled slowly. “It’s…it’s fine, okay? I mean, we can just add that to the things we need to work on.”

“What do you mean by that, Mister Freeman?” Tommy asked.

“Since Benrey is gonna be, like, helping me with my sequel to puberty, we agreed that I can help him with fitting into human society more.”

“That’s uh…” Tommy’s expression almost seemed…sad? It was only for a moment as he smiled immediately after. “That’s a nice thing to do, Mister Freeman.” He seemed to squeeze the slushie cup a bit tighter before backing up to the way he came. “Uh, I have to go.”

“Already? I mean-” Gordon followed after him. “You can stay for a bit if you want. You and your…flavor of the day.”

“It’s fine, Mister Freeman.” Tommy’s tone lowered the very temperature of the room. “I have stuff I need to catch up on at my internship.” The front door opened on its own into a familiar black void. “Uh…” His voice settled back to normal. “…see you on Thursday.”

“See ya, man.” The two men waved goodbye, and soon Tommy vanished into the blackness, the door closing on its own.

Gordon felt uncomfortable with the cold way that Tommy had spoken. He’d seen it in the man’s father, but it felt wrong when it was Tommy.

His musing was disrupted by the impact of a small cardboard box against his head. “Ow! What the-?!”

“What’cha standing around for? We gotta unload groceries.”

[avelera]

Ok just because I'd never write it because Human/No Powers Modern AU is not my thing, but I find the thought exercise interesting, here's a bit more about how Giving Sanctuary would work if it was a modern, no powers dreamling AU (copied from a Discord I'm on):

The THING IS, I am somewhat charmed by the idea of Modern AU Giving Sanctuary ONLY because re-translating the historical dynamics to be clearer to a modern viewer of like... what EXACTLY Dream disdained about Hob, would be such a treat??

Like in a historical setting, you can tell Hob's being a bit gauche in 1589 but that's kind of it for visual cues? But just.... imagine Dream in his black turtleneck and designer coat, hosting an event at his art gallery, and then this fucking Chad that his sister made him set up with a job interview ages ago, that he expected to fail out because he's a jock and an idiot, shows up in a fucking golf polo and a fancy but extremely visible Rolex he won't stop showing off to Dream and like... just the worst kind of new money sleaze oozing out of every pore and he won't stop snacking on the hors d'oeuvres and trying to offer some to Dream while talking with his mouth full because he thinks they're buddies, somehow and he keeps talking about the latest deal he closed to bring in millions to his company yeah they're gonna put him on Fortune magazine, not the front cover, but there is a page about him!

And this guy Hob, he keeps trying to shove pictures of his supermodel wife and sticky infant son at Dream at this arts event and finally Dream will literally do anything to get away from this guy and talk to the art school student who is actually talking about looking for his big break (And little does he know, Hob actually was trying to thank Dream for putting him in a place to be this successful because Hob came from poverty and there was no way he'd ever have reached this point without that lucky break of meeting Dream and yeah, he lacks manners but he's stupidly proud of what he accomplished and has no idea what he did wrong, he was trying to compliment Dream on the hors d'oeuvres??)

And if you make this purely human AU (not a genre I like to write but I find the thought exercise of updating a story interesting) 1689 would be caused by like.... Hob in a car accident with his pregnant wife and his kid Robyn, Hob's the only survivor. He gets addicted to pain meds during the recovery, is found at fault for the accident so no insurance money/the legal bills eat up everything else, he's fired, addicted, was already living lavishly and depending on the next big deal to pay for it all so goes bankrupt quickly, falls and falls and falls.

Anyway, Hob and Dream have this standing agreement to meet up once a year or every five years, at the same dive bar where Death introduced them in like college or something, and Hob gets there and y'know, updated 1689 meeting, he's a mess, he's homeless, he can't seem to get out of his own way, but the subject of his son's death comes up (again, for a GS update) and somehow Dream mentions he got married when he was like 18 or 20 to another artist, they had a son, no one in their families supported them because they said they were too young, their son died and his wife left him and his life fell apart and he's buried himself in work since but never really healed and no one ever really seemed to understand what he went through because most of his peers had never even had a serious relationship by the time he was divorced and had lost a child at like 22, like people freaking complimented him on being a single man again if they didn't know about the death.

And for the first time ever he tells this to Hob and instead of saying "Why did you get married so young??" Hob just... asks him if he's ok. Over a decade later. The first person to actually understand that Dream never really recovered.

[copperbadge]

Hi, Sam! Hoping for some insight as an adult-y, job-experience-having person. Do you think it's possible to get a job as a front desk receptionist with zero real work experience, other than some art commissions in the past, and some time in college but no degree? Or am I better off setting my sights on entry level food/retail jobs to start off with?

So much of it depends on what experience you do have and what you're willing to put on your resume or like...I don't want to say lie, but let's say...gently obfuscate about.

But also, por que no los dos? You can apply for both at the same time. I used to apply for a variety of jobs, and I just had a set resume and a form letter of interest that I'd slightly alter based on what was requested in the job listing.

The real question is whether you have the skillset to work front desk, and whether you can demonstrate somehow on paper that you do. Do you have experience answering phones, working in a call center? Do you know your way around Office suite? (You don't have to prove how, you just have to say you do and then have the most basic of chops to back it up.) Do you have customer service experience? Etc. etc. etc.

Most front desk positions require a college degree, which is frankly ludicrous, so you may find yourself facing a lot of applications that want you to list your degree information. If you can get through with just listing your college experience, I'd do that. But remember, apply for any job where you have even a hope of getting to the interview stage. If you have 60% of what they're asking for, I'd apply.

So here are some questions to ask when building up a resume and a portfolio of your skill sets for any job: Have you ever worked a volunteer job? (You don't have to mark it as volunteer on your resume.) Did you do any kind of workstudy job while you were in college? (This is real work and really counts!) Ever worked for a family business, or done work for a friend, or have you done reasonably extensive beta-reading/editing for fanfic? That's freelance, baby!

So more important than "should I apply to this" is "How do I apply to this reasonably". Applying for any single specific job once you've found one shouldn't take that long, an hour at most; I've got more about that here under the "cover letters and resumes" section. Especially for jobs like front desk, a good cover letter is super important; it's basically a writing sample that tells them a lot about your ability to communicate, your drive, and your intelligence, whether or not that's fair. Remember to emphasize your skills and never, ever mention or excuse your deficiencies; you want to tell them why you're good for the job, not pre-emptively argue with them about why you're not.

I do also recommend, if at all possible, you sit down with your college transcripts and work out how many credits you have. College credits are usually pretty transferrable, and it's worth your time, if you're able, to find a way to complete a degree -- an Associate's degree, particularly through an accredited community or online college, often only takes two years and if you come in with existing credits, probably even less. Studies indicate that having any degree of any kind increases your chances of being hired and also of earning more over your lifetime. I know not everyone has the ability to attend or complete college, and I don't think everyone should, but if you can, even if it's just one course a semester and the degree's a long way off, do consider it.

Good luck, Anon! And hey, if you do end up finding that retail/food customer service is where you're getting offers, there's no shame in that, that's good solid skilled work that will give you more to put on your resume when you're ready to move on.