#is this what being a diversity hire feels like?

[likeabxrdinflight]

it probably wasn't the best idea to google my fellow interns since the vast majority of them look like the grown up version of girls who would have bullied me in middle school...

[rawliverandgoronspice]

ok guys in an extremely tragic twist of faith my hyperfixated brain betrayed me and the article will actually just be about female characters in game in general using EoW as a jumping board, which does fill my soul with dread and weariness instead of joy :((

(perhaps for nothing, maybe it will be great but still I'm SO DISAPPOINTED)

[yououghtaknow]

girls love me for my in-depth knowledge of sheik/sater’s spring awakening.

[mantisgodsdomain]

That said we have no morals or standards if we get paid enough for something so if you drop us something like $3 on Ko-fi then we are available to hash out details and we will have a go at just about Literally Anything.

[4unnyr0se]

❥ kuroo as your boss

warnings: post-timeskip! kuroo, fem! reader, office sex, blatent favoritism, kuroo coddles reader, cunnilingus, blowjob, desk sex, unprotected sex, not proofread

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 694

Tetsuro Kuroo, the best damn boss anyone could ask for. Gave anyone the day off when needed, even if they were out of paid sick days. His office morale was the highest ever recorded in the Sports Promotions division, and he was damn proud of it. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who originally hired you because you looked really good in a pencil skirt. And because he needed a female employee for diversity’s sake. Either way, he had no idea of your skills or how you would manage in a sports office setting.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who was shocked to hear that you actually went to Nekoma and were in the same class as Kenma. Who called himself stupid for not recognizing a pretty girl when he was in high school, who called Kenma after he was done for the day to scream at him for not introducing him to such a fine piece of ass. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who had you do the work you wanted to do and never gave you assignments or paperwork you didn’t feel like you could handle. Was he coddling you? Sort of, but how could he not? You were just too pretty to be stressed. As long as you were his employee, you wouldn’t experience work-related stress. Not under his watch. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who always bought you lunch from wherever you wanted. You wanted sushi? Premium salmon rolls got delivered in 30 minutes. Wagyu? Consider it done. Convenience store ramen? He bought 10 cases for you to take home and eat at your leisure. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who confirmed the rumors that you were his favorite employee. What were they gonna do about it, hm? He wasn’t disenfranchising them by spoiling you; being jealous isn’t a cause to get you fired. He was a smug bastard and gave no shits. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who was eating lunch with you in his office one day. Who observed how your tiny pencil skirt rode up your thighs perfectly, how your stockings made you look so fucking sexy. He observed how you blushed when he looked at you, the cutest giggle leaving your lips. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who thanked the universe that his office had two-way blackout curtains and soundproofing. He would bend you over the desk and rip a hole in your stockings, purring at the sight of your soaked lace panties. Did you wear those just for him? Adorable.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who made you sit in his office chair as he ate your pussy like he was on death row. Who relished in your desperate and wanton cries of ecstasy, another orgasm rippling through you. Who demanded you finish on his tongue over and over again, that was all he wanted to eat. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who sighed as he got under-the-desk support while on a phone call with a very important sports vendor. He would grip the mahogany of his desk as he felt your tongue trace on his cock’s throbbing vein, prematurely cumming all over his face. Who, when asked what was wrong, said he just stubbed his toe. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who fucked you like a machine each afternoon. Who gripped onto your hips with such strength that it left imprints on your hips as he fucked you harder and harder. Who demanded you scream as much as you needed, no one would hear. And even if they did hear, no one would stop him. He was their fucking boss. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who never used a condom because you’re on the pill. Who moaned at the sight of his seed leaking out of your weeping core as you struggled to fix your now wrinkled pencil skirt, shooting him a dirty look the entire time. Who promised he would go easier on you tomorrow, but he never did.

Tetsuro Kuroo, who was actually kind of glad that he met you when you were both adults. If he had met you in high school, he never would have fucking graduated or kept Nekoma a powerhouse school. He would have been too distracted flirting with you the entire time. 

Tetsuro Kuroo, who went to bed every night satisfied with his decision to hire someone as gorgeous as you.

[inuyashaluver]

Hey I absolutely adore your fics you are my favourite writer i was wondering if you could write a fic where reader has autism and there comfort person has always been there sister leah and best friend jen and nobody has figured out how to get through to them and they dont like meeting new people but thats until alessia arrives

she’s different - alessia russo

alessia russo x reader

description: in which your sister notices a complete shift in you when a certain blondie makes their way into your heart

warnings: a little long! swearing, timelines don’t make sense but i am just a girl

a/n: hiya, lovely! thank you for all the love and request, it truly means so much to hear i’m your fav, what an absolute honour!! i hope i did this justice, please let me know if anything needs to be changed or altered, i’ll do it in a heartbeat! much love to you, gorgeous, enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, alessia, had a very special relationship. the two of you forming a bond that no one could have suspected. the people closest to you were even shocked with how much you and alessia stuck together from early on.

—

you were a sports photographer, and a good one at that. you’d always had love for taking photos, one of your main subjects being your sister, leah who was always more than willing to let you take photos of her while she trained, or during games.

while both of your siblings were sporty, you always resorted to academics. you were incredibly intelligent, excelling in school, your whole family was extremely proud of you.

photography started as a hobby in the side of your studies but you grew a love for it when people assured you your pictures were extremely good.

—

you experienced the world a little differently. from a young age, you struggled to connect to the people around you that weren’t your parents, brother or especially your sister.

you always found social situations and connections confusing, your siblings knew you inside and out so why would you need anyone else?

you often found social situations overwhelming if you weren’t with someone you knew, struggling to make friends.

the simple things that came easily to people were often a struggle to you, like maintaining eye contact or understanding body language occasionally when you were under stress.

these things were a constant anxiety and frustration for you in the beginning, feeling like something was wrong with you.

and so, when you were 13, you were taken to a specialist and were diagnosed with autism. it was from then on, the world began to make sense. the amount of love and support your family offered you helped you through the challenges of growing up diverse.

you could solace in familiarity, not really liking to step out of your comfort zone without easing into it slowly. one of the people that understood this well was leah, leah was your rock, your backbone.

she offered you stability, comfort and support even if she was just sitting next to you in silence. leah made you feel safe and understood, never really pressuring you into anything you didn’t want to.

—

when you were in university, you were working part time with both arsenal and england as a member of their media teams.

being apart of both media teams was comfortable for you, leah introducing them to you and being relieved when you got along with them. though this was hard to do, you were an absolute sweetheart.

they understood that sometimes you just needed to work in silence, letting you do what you did best and it really showed through your photos and videos. so much so, as soon as you graduated, they both hired you full time with a permanent position in both teams.

you absolutely loved it, having the opportunity to do what you loved and not feel judged. during the time you worked with arsenal, you were introduced to jen through your sister.

jen understood you like leah, not pressuring you and actually making an effort to understand you. you got along with all of leah’s friends but jen was the one that stuck.

though it didn’t come easily, pretty much everyone you were introduced to required some patience to see the real you. but once they did, it was worth it.

—

you’d met alessia through your sister of course, not offering her much more than a hello and small talk about the weather or how you wanted her to pose for campaign pictures for england.

alessia always had a special appreciation for you, she not only found you absolutely beautiful but she really appreciated how genuine you were.

from the short conversations you had together, alessia always felt a little more at ease. when she knew she was getting photographed which was often uncomfortable for her, she was relieved if you were the one taking the picture.

you thought alessia was gorgeous and it was one of the reasons you distanced yourself from her. she was close with leah so you’d talk to her if you had to, blushing without even realising.

she was also one of your favourite canvases, always listening to your instructions with a soft smile.

your sister didn’t even know you found the girl attractive, the one time she wasn’t able to read you completely. everything changed when alessia transferred from manchester united to arsenal.

—

you’d just moved out from living with leah into your own flat, one of the scariest things you’ve ever had to do but leah and jen, before she moved helped you through it.

when jen got her new contract, your heart absolutely broke, you’d cried in leah’s arms for days after she moved and you decided you needed a change, that’s why you moved out.

this didn’t mean you didn’t see leah all the time, you did at work but she’d always rock up to your house with snacks in hand for a movie marathon or just to sit and chat.

you often called and facetimed but nothing beat seeing her in person. leah found it cute how happy and excited you got seeing her every morning, always making her feel special.

“hi, bunny!” leah smiled brightly (a nickname she gave you after your childhood bunny toy that you absolutely loved). she pulled you into a hug and you felt yourself go limp in her arms, she lifts you off the ground and you laugh brightly.

she hugs you tightly just the way you loved it, one of your stims that she knew calmed you down easily.

“morning, lee” you giggle when she swung you side to side for a moment before placing you on the ground with a quick kiss to your forehead.

“so miss photographer, what are your plans today?” leah asks you, hands on her hips as she looked down at you.

“well, we have a new transfer i have to shoot for, photos and videos” you smile, making leah smile too knowing how much you loved your job. “oo, do you know who it is yet?” leah says excitedly, hearing rumours of a transfer but not knowing who it was.

“no, not yet” you sigh, slightly nervous knowing you had to introduce yourself to a potentially new person.

“do you need me to come with you?” leah questions, her hand squeezing your shoulder gently. “no i’m okay,” you smile appreciatively, “my little sissy is growing too fast” she coos, pinching your cheek that you quickly slapped away with a scowl.

“leah, i’m 24” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as she continued to tease you. you both chatted back and forth before you got called by your coworker, gaining a little shove from leah towards her that you sent another glare at, making your older sister send you an exaggerated air kiss.

you and your coworker discussed the basics of the shoot until you finally reached the set, seeing a blonde getting fitted in the iconic arsenal kit.

“uh, hi, i’m (y/n), i’ll be shooting with you today” you say gently as you approached the girl, not wanting to scare her, the blonde turned quickly at the sound of your voice.

“(y/n)!” your eyes widen when she turns, “alessia?” you breathe out, the girl beams at you brightly, pulling you into a quick hug that made you tense a little until a comforting smell of caramel and vanilla easily made you feel at home.

you hadn’t seen alessia in a few months, that didn’t mean your heart wasn’t beating out of your chest when the girl locked eyes with you that you were quick to divert away.

you weren’t completely comfortable with her yet, so prolonged eye contact was out of the question.

“i’m so happy to see you, how have you been?” she grins, you nod at her, “i’m good thank you, and you?” sounding a little rehearsed, and it was, alessia made you shy.

she chuckles lightly, “really good, thank you, happy to be here” her smile was infectious, you couldn’t help the little grin playing at the corners of your lips.

you both lightly conversed as you prepared for the shoot, feeling yourself feel more comfortable around her in a way that surprised you, and alessia.

—

when you walked alessia into the gym talking and laughing softly, leah’s eyes were wide with shock. one, seeing alessia. two, seeing you laugh with alessia. three, both of you blushing like you’d just gone for a run, which she knew you didn’t.

leah scrambled up towards the both of you, pulling you into a headlock, “see you’re finally on the right side, less?” leah grins, smiling as you struggle in her grasp.

“leah! get off man!” you groan, alessia chuckles at your struggle, her hand gently grabbing your forearm, managing to pull you out of leah’s headlock.

her hand lingered for a moment before she let go, you sent her an appreciative smile before giving leah a shove on the shoulder.

“needed a change” alessia sighed, her and leah engaging in small talk while you just observed, looking back and forth between the two blondes and they laughed along with each other.

“so, did my sister treat you well?” leah teases, her arm wounding around your shoulder, you roll your eyes at leah, alessia sends you a soft smile.

“she always does” your cheeks go a little pink at that, feeling yourself cower a little further into leah that didn’t go unnoticed.

leah looked down at you challengingly but chose to dismiss it for now, you’d had romantic partners in the past but none of them really stuck. she’d seen you all shy and blushy before but never like this.

—

as the days and weeks went by, alessia was able to chip away at barriers you’d carefully constructed for years. she didn’t even know she was doing it, but what she did notice was you becoming more chatty with her, actually holding eye contact a little more than you usually do.

leah was completely shocked, in a good way, of course. all she wanted for her little sister was to be happy and from the looks of it, you were getting that.

“morning, lessi” you wave at her, alessia is quick to send you the wave back as she entered the doors at the arsenal training grounds, she pulled you into a quick hug,

“morning, (y/n/n)” she giggled as she pulled away, both of you falling into conversation as you walked alongside each other, you were photographing their training session today for socials.

when you both made it outside, you let in a sharp inhale, it was colder than you thought, alessia observed as your body shook lightly from the crisp air, shaking her head lightly at how you’d only worn a thin jacket.

she was quick to shrug hers off, draping it around your shoulders without a second thought. “lessi, no” you protest, trying to push the jacket back in her hands but alessia was quick to slip your arms through it and zip it up. “lessi, yes” she chuckles,

you pout at her slightly, “now you’ll be cold, lessi,” alessia smiles at you softly, “i’ll be running around, silly, i’ll be warm in no time” her arm around your shoulder as you still continued to protest her jacket, though you had to admit, having the smell of alessia flooding your senses was comforting.

“you really are a williamson, so stubborn” she teased, you laugh at that, nudging her with your shoulder as you both giggled.

leah watched the entire interaction with a soft smile, waving at you slightly and watching as you perked up at seeing her.

you run over to leah as she hoists you up in another hug, “so you have a sister?” leah teases, “uh, yeah, you?” you say a little confused, leah laughs loudly, pinching your cheek at your cluelessness.

“i know, bunny, i’m teasing you” she grins, “you and less have gotten really close?” your cheeks go pink at that, shifting the weight between your feet as you looked down, “she’s my friend” you say shyly, “are you sure?” leah whispers, dipping her head to look at you properly.

“i-i don’t know” you say softly, your sister pulls you into another tight hug, her hand rubbing up and down your back, “it’s okay, you’ll figure it out” you nod into her shoulder, moving away to set up your camera.

throughout training, you took photos of everyone, your photos always a favourite in the media since they always felt like more than just a photo, feeling like you always captured the person rather than the action.

you were sitting outside while editing the photos before alessia pulled up next to you. “hi, pretty girl, what’re you up to?” alessia watched as you tensed for a minute, glancing over at her quickly with a nervous expression that had her heart beating rapidly.

“oh, i’m editing” you clear your throat, getting nervous when alessia scoots a little closer to you to look at your computer screen.

she noticed you were editing a photo of her, and the sidebar was almost full of her pictures. her heart fluttered at the thought of you focusing on her, swallowing before glancing at you quickly.

“you look pretty in this one” you blurt out, immediately regretting it and pinching your nose bridge out of embarrassment.

alessia’s face was burning, muttering out a thank you as you both sat quietly for a minute before you both sparked another conversation to ease the tension.

—

“hi, gorgeous” alessia grinned as she arrived to england camp, sending you a little wink, “hi, lessi” you smile brightly, this time pulling her into a hug by yourself. she was pleasantly surprised, hugging you tightly and feeling you melt into her embrace.

“did you get here okay?” she says softly in your ear, pulling away with a hand placed on the small of your back as she walks with you.

“yeah, i came with leah” you smile at her, making the blonde smile back at you gently, “did you get here okay?” you ask back, she nods, her hand rubbing up and down your back, “mhm, better now that you’re here” she smiles, your cheeks dusting with pink as alessia’s eyes met yours.

“lee, i think alessia broke your sister” keira grins walking behind the two of you with leah and georgia next to her. leah chuckles fondly, “i think she’s got a little crush” leah whispers, georgia and keira make eye contact and smile,

“well alessia definitely feels the same, why hasn’t anything happened yet?” georgia questions, leah shrugs before giving them a warning glare, “let my sister figure this out herself, please” the two girls huff but nod, knowing you needed a little more time to come to grasp your feelings.

alessia’s arm wounds around your waist before she had to go to her room to unpack, “you know, we should do something just us two, we're in spain after all”

you look at her confused, “don’t you want to spend time with ella? you haven’t seen her in a while” alessia chuckles affectionately, shaking her head as she looked at you.

“you’re a little clueless aren’t you?” alessia grins, your face flushing, worried you just missed out on a social cue, a potentially important one.

you recounted the entire interaction between the two of you, picking it apart to see what you missed before alessia brought you out of your head.

“(y/n)” she said, leaning a little closer to you, “when i said just us two, i meant like a date, beautiful” she smiles, you were completely silent, mouth a little agape in the hotel lobby.

you were shocked, the thought of alessia returning your feelings making you extremely nervous. due to your prolonged silence, alessia grew nervous, her grip on you loosening.

“hey, if you’re not interested, that’s completely okay” she utters, “i won’t pressure you into anything you don’t want to do” she affirms,

“no! no! i’m very interested” you stumble on your words, “ i’d love to do something with you” you say softly, feeling like your body was on fire.

you began fiddling with the ends of your clothes, alessia’s hand moving it to hold your hand instead, smiling fondly at you.

“great, i’ll text you the time and meet me down here later?” you nod as she moved a loose strand of hair off your face, kissing your cheek quickly.

“okay,” you breathe out, her hand giving you a gentle squeeze before she moved towards the elevators making sure to smile at you another time before she really walks off.

“holy shit” you say in shock, running off frantically to try and find your sister, realising she was watching from the other side of the lobby.

“leah, help me!” you gasp, leah effectively calming you down while reminding you to breathe, “hey, slowly, what happened?” leah places both hands on your shoulders,

“alessia just asked me on a date” you whisper shouted, leah gives you the biggest, cheesiest smile, it made you feel a little uneasy.

“aren’t you supposed to be all protective right now, telling me she’s not good for me or something?” you remark, only making leah laugh, both of you knowing alessia was perfect.

“bunny, she’s perfect for you” leah admits, watching you shy away from her slightly, “really?” leah nods, giving you an encouraging expression that truly made everything feel okay.

“lessi has been flirting with you for weeks now” leah chuckles when your eyes grow wide, internally cursing yourself for not noticing the signs.

leah talked you through it, making sure you were completely comfortable before you went on the date.

—

you went on the date with alessia and to say you fell in love with her more every couple of seconds was an understatement. alessia was so gentle and genuine with you, patient and kind.

you had this girl in a chokehold and it was very much the same with you. alessia loved that she got to learn more about you, and she wanted to for the rest of her life so to speak.

for a couple of weeks, you and alessia went on dates every other day. the two of you growing so close, it truly surprised everyone around you. she asked you to be her girlfriend about a month later and giggled at how enthusiastically you agreed.

��

you’d been dating for about a year and things couldn’t have been better. everyone saw a new side of both you and alessia and it was incredibly endearing to see how in love you were with each other.

“bunny, alessia’s not the only one on the team you know?” leah teased as your lens was focused on alessia with an affectionate smile. “fuck off, lee” you laugh, taking a photo of leah flipping you off with a grin.

alessia laughed at the interaction between the two of you, jogging up to stand in front of you with a bright smile.

“baby” she grinned, her hand cupping your cheek as she pressed a sweet kiss on your lips, “babe, i’m working” you giggle as alessia continued to press kisses to your lips and cheeks,

“keep working then” she chuckles, moving to stand behind you, her arms wrapped around your waist as her head rested on your shoulder.

you smile as you continue to take photos of the england girls, only lasting for a couple of seconds before leah had to physically drag alessia away from you.

“i love you both but star girl needs to train” leah mocks, flicking your forehead with her arm wrapped tightly around alessia to drag her off,

“lee, wait!” you stop her, smiling before pressing a quick kiss to alessia’s lips, your sister dry retching as alessia sent heart eyes your way.

“okay, you can take her” you say cheekily, laughing as you hear leah scolding alessia for ‘corrupting’ her sweet sister while alessia shook her head in amusement.

alessia made you laugh like no one else, alessia made you feel more comfortable as yourself like you’d never experienced.

you and alessia loved each other more than anyone. even leah was willing to be a close second to your girlfriend.

although in the beginning you left alessia at a distance, you were so grateful for her persistence in breaking down your barriers, even if it took you a while.

you both knew it was a forever kind of thing. and so did everyone else.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

alessia: always the photographer xx

view all comments

yourname: i know a pretty canvas when i see one

↳ alessia: such a flirt, baby!

↳ yourname: your fault

leahwilliamsonn: sister stealer

↳ yourname: you literally told me to go on the date

↳ leahwilliamsonn: hush, bunny, i’m talking

↳ alessia: lunch tomorrow?

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you’re paying.

↳ alessia: deal

[mediocre-shark-tales]

Azerbajian GP Weekend

Masterlist

Thursday had arrived, and so had the media frenzy. It was the traditional pre-race press day, and the interview room was buzzing with journalists and cameras ready to capture every word and reaction. I was scheduled for a multi-driver interview, paired with Franco, Carlos, Max, and Oscar—a mix of veterans and rookies, all bringing their own energy to the room. I was feeling confident, prepared to answer whatever questions were thrown my way, until I noticed a few familiar faces among the journalists—faces I remembered from whispers in the paddock.

After a few light-hearted questions aimed at Carlos and Max, the interview shifted gears when a well-known journalist turned to me with a sharp look in his eyes.

“So, Y/N,” he began, voice dripping with a tone that already felt accusatory, “there’s been a lot of talk about your rapid rise to F1, especially after missing significant time in F2. Some might say that… connections or publicity stunts might be part of the story here rather than pure skill.” He leaned back, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What do you say to people who think you’re here for PR reasons, rather than merit?”

My stomach clenched, but I kept my face calm. This was it—the subtle way they were calling me out, questioning if I was here because of talent or if I was just a “diversity hire” in a sport still catching up with the times. I could feel the tension in the room rise as Carlos and Max glanced at me, both of them experienced enough to know what it was like to be grilled by the press.

I took a deep breath, feeling Franco’s reassuring presence beside me. He shot me a quick nod, like he was silently encouraging me to respond.

“Well,” I began, keeping my voice calm and steady, “I think every driver here has something to prove. Racing is about results, and I’m fully prepared to show what I’m capable of on the track. I know there’s a lot of speculation, and it’s natural—every driver faces it at some point. I’m here because I’ve earned this seat. And I’ll keep proving that every weekend.”

The journalist wasn’t done. He leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “Still, disappearing for months mid-season in F2 and then suddenly being ready to jump into F1… it does raise some eyebrows. Care to elaborate on where you were?”

My heart raced. Memories flooded in—of the sleepless nights by my mother’s side, of the last few precious moments we shared. I felt the urge to defend myself, to tell the whole story right there, but I knew better. I took another breath, holding my smile steady.

“As my former team and I have always said, I was undergoing extensive training to prepare for the reserve role I’d committed to with Aston Martin. My team has full confidence in me, and that’s all the focus I’m giving it,” I replied, keeping my tone professional. I felt proud of my answer, but I could tell the journalist was disappointed by my restraint.

Max jumped in, breaking the tension with his classic cool-headedness. “You know, there are always rumors about all of us. It’s all just noise until we’re on track, isn’t it?”

The journalist backed off slightly, though I could tell he wasn’t convinced. Franco shot me a supportive look, mouthing a quick “Nice one” as the attention moved to another driver. I took a deep breath, reminding myself to stay composed. My mother’s voice echoed in my mind, reminding me of all the reasons I was here.

After the interview wrapped up, Franco walked over and gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Forget him. That was out of line. You handled it well.”

“Thanks,” I replied, my voice a bit shaky. “I just didn’t expect that to hit so hard, you know?”

He nodded, his eyes kind. “I know. But you showed them that you belong here. Keep doing that, and everyone else will see it too.”

As we left the interview room, Franco nudged me, a curious look in his eyes. "Did you notice how quickly Max jumped in? It’s like he was standing up for you."

I shrugged, glancing back at the room we’d just left. "I don’t know if it was for me specifically," I replied. "Max just seems to hate when journalists get too personal. He probably saw the question as crossing a line. He’s always been a no-nonsense guy."

Franco didn’t seem convinced. "Maybe, but... he didn’t have to say anything at all. A lot of other drivers wouldn’t." He paused, as if carefully choosing his next words. "Look, I’ve been around these drivers a while now, and I know how they talk. I think Max might be one of the few drivers who’s actually looking at what you do on track, not paying attention to those rumors.”

I hesitated, not sure how to process that. “Maybe,” I conceded. “But why would he? He doesn’t know me.”

“Maybe he’s seen the work you’re putting in,” Franco said thoughtfully. “He knows what it’s like to face doubt—he started young too. Besides,” he added, “Max respects hard work. He wouldn’t have stood up for you if he didn’t think you’ve earned your place.”

I wanted to believe Franco, but I couldn’t help being skeptical. “You might be giving him too much credit,” I said. “Honestly, I still think it was more about hating the question than defending me.”

Franco laughed. “Maybe you’re right. Max isn’t exactly Mr. Empathy. But I think he respects that you’ve been keeping your head down and just focusing on racing. People who’ve been on the grid longer can spot real talent, and he wouldn’t bother standing up for you if he didn’t see something there.”

I looked down, smiling to myself. The thought that Max might see past all the gossip and actually believe in my abilities was… a little surreal. But if Franco was right, it meant something. "You know," I said quietly, "maybe that’s enough for now. If I can prove myself to someone like Max, maybe that’s all I need to do for the rest to start paying attention."

Franco nodded. “Exactly. Let them talk. Just keep showing up on track and doing what you do best. You’re already turning heads, whether they admit it or not.”

We walked on in comfortable silence after that, both of us aware that this race weekend would be another chance. Another shot to show everyone—including myself—that I had a place here, no matter who questioned it. 

We parted ways minutes later, Franco being asked to return to his garage for a filming session between him and Alex. I decided to walk around the paddock a bit more —given that most if not every interviewer was in the interview room right now— I had a chance to relax by myself with a nice little undisrupted wandering walk. It didn’t last long however before I was seemingly cornered by the same man who had stood up for me before. Max Verstappen had spotted me from across the paddock and beelined his way right towards me. 

I froze for a moment, a bit caught off guard. Max was one of the last people I expected to seek me out, especially after that brief encounter in the interview room. He was known for being straightforward, but also for keeping to himself, so seeing him walk toward me like this felt... unexpected.

As he approached, I straightened up, unsure of what to say. Max had that usual intense focus in his eyes, but his expression didn’t seem as cold as it often did. He came to a stop in front of me, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

“Hey,” he said, his tone casual but direct. "How are you holding up?"

I blinked, momentarily surprised by the question. "I’m good," I replied quickly, forcing a small smile. “Why do you ask?”

Max looked around the paddock, as if checking to make sure no one else was nearby. When he turned back to me, he spoke a little lower. “Just wanted to make sure you’re not letting the stuff they’re saying get to you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What stuff?”

He shrugged, his expression softening a little. “The gossip. The rumors. People are always going to talk, especially when there’s something new, or something they don’t understand.” He paused for a second, looking at me seriously. “But you’ve been doing well. I can see it.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was... unexpected, to say the least. Max wasn’t exactly the type to give out compliments, let alone stand up for someone in public, especially someone like me. The fact that he was acknowledging it so openly made me second-guess a lot of my assumptions about him.

"Thanks," I said, my voice more tentative than I intended. "I appreciate it."

Max nodded. "I know how it feels to be judged before you even get the chance to show what you can do. It’s not easy." He paused again, and then, almost like an afterthought, added, "If you need someone to talk to or whatever, don’t hesitate."

I was caught off guard once more. Max Verstappen, offering to talk?

"Uh, thanks," I replied, this time more confidently. "I think I’ll be alright, but it’s good to know."

He gave me a small nod, a glimmer of respect in his eyes. “Good. Keep your head up, alright? They’ll respect you, eventually. Just keep showing up.”

With that, he turned and walked off, leaving me standing there a little dumbfounded. The last thing I expected was for Max Verstappen to go out of his way to check on me, but now I was left wondering if there was more to him than just the hard-as-nails racer everyone saw on TV. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as bad as the rumors made him out to be either.

BIG TIME SKIP 

After Qualifying, I couldn’t help but smile—P10! I’d made it into the top 10, just behind Franco who had secured P9. We were both on cloud nine and decided to grab dinner together to celebrate. We were walking out of the paddock, laughing and joking, when I suddenly heard someone shout Franco’s name.

“Franco! Where are you going?” Lando’s voice rang out across the busy paddock.

Both Franco and I turned, surprised. We saw Lando and Oscar jogging toward us, the latter giving me a fleeting glance. Lando, on the other hand, didn’t spare me a single glance. His eyes were locked on Franco, his tone sharp.

Franco, clearly still riding the high of a great qualifying result, gave him a friendly wave. “Hey, just heading out to grab some dinner. Want to join us?”

Oscar’s eyes lingered on me for a brief moment, and I could swear I saw something akin to pity flicker across his face, but it disappeared so quickly that I couldn’t be sure. Lando, however, didn’t acknowledge me at all, his gaze still glued to Franco.

“I’m good,” Lando replied curtly, his tone flat. “We’ll catch up later. But I’ve heard... you two are quite the topic today.”

Franco shot me a quick glance, clearly uncomfortable, but said nothing as Lando’s words hung in the air. I could feel his eyes shift between me and Franco, clearly sizing up the situation. The tension was palpable, and I knew exactly what he was referring to. The rumors.

“So, uh, what’s it like?” Lando continued, his voice now almost too casual, his gaze flicking over to me. “Being the new face around here, with all the... stories going around?”

Oscar, standing silently at Lando’s side, seemed content to watch the exchange, though his eyes flicked to me, then back to Lando. I could tell he wasn’t quite sure where this conversation was headed.

I wasn’t sure if Lando was looking for confirmation or if he was trying to provoke a reaction, but either way, I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. The judgment in his tone wasn’t subtle, and I wasn’t about to let it slide.

“Stories?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow as I turned toward him. “What kind of stories?”

Lando shifted uncomfortably, clearly caught off guard by my question, but he quickly recovered. “You know,” he said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “The whole... why you suddenly disappeared from F2, then came in and replaced Stroll and all that. Guess people are curious and there are a lot of people willing to tell their stories to fill that gap in.”

Oscar’s eyes darted between us, a slight frown tugging at his lips, but he said nothing. I could see the judgment in Lando’s face now, and I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“I’m not here to entertain gossip,” I replied, my voice steady but firm. “I don’t know where these ‘stories’ came from, but you’re feeding into them just like everyone else. How about you let me speak for myself? Maybe then you’ll get the real story.”

Franco opened his mouth to speak, likely trying to defuse the situation, but I held up a hand to stop him. I wasn’t going to let Lando get away with it.

“If you really think that just because of my background in this sport, you’re going to judge me on rumors instead of what I can do on track,” I said, my tone cutting through the air, “then maybe you should reconsider how much you actually know from sources that don’t include bias perspectives.”

Lando’s face twitched, and for a moment, I could see the flicker of realization in his eyes. He wasn’t used to being called out so directly. But he wasn’t backing down either.

“Look, I didn’t mean—” he started, but I cut him off sharply, my tone colder than before.

“No, you didn’t mean it,” I snapped, my eyes narrowing. “But you’re still doing it. So maybe before you speak about things you clearly know nothing about, you should think twice. Because I’m not here to be the subject of your gossip.”

The air between us grew tense, and the silence stretched on. Oscar, who had been quietly observing, exchanged a glance with Lando but stayed silent. I could feel the weight of Lando’s eyes on me, but I refused to back down.

“Is that really how it’s going to be?” I asked, my voice hard. “You think you can just judge me based on some rumor mill nonsense without even knowing me? Maybe you should consider that there’s more to me than whatever the hell people want to say about my past. What happens on track is all that should matter. But if you’re still buying into that crap, then maybe you’re not the person I thought you were.”

Lando’s jaw tightened, and I could tell that I had struck a nerve. He didn’t immediately respond, instead glancing at Oscar, who now had a slightly concerned look on his face. Lando shifted on his feet, clearly unsure of how to respond to someone calling him out so forcefully.

“I get it, alright?” Lando muttered, but there was no real sincerity in his voice. “But you’ve got to admit, there’s a lot of speculation.”

I rolled my eyes, the frustration bubbling up inside me. “Speculation is exactly what it is. And it’s none of your business, Lando. What matters is that I’m here, racing, and proving myself every time I get behind the wheel. Maybe if you focused more on that, you’d see it for what it is, instead of judging me based on some stupid rumors.”

I paused for a moment, letting the silence linger between us before I spoke again, my voice sharpening. “And honestly, with all the rumors floating around that you’re a big fan of Trump after some of the things you’ve said in Miami? I’m not surprised you’re so quick to jump on the bandwagon and believe whatever fits the narrative. It’s easier to go along with what the media says, right? But I don’t listen to that stuff. I judge people by their actions, not by what the tabloids want to spin. You don’t know me, Lando, so stop acting like you do.”

I could see him bristle at my words, and for a moment, I could tell that what I said hit harder than he expected. It wasn’t about defending myself anymore—it was about standing up for the idea that I wouldn’t let others define me, especially when they hadn’t bothered to get to know the real me.

Lando’s expression flickered, a mix of frustration and something else—something I couldn’t quite place—passing across his face. For a moment, he was silent, clearly trying to process what I had just said. But I could tell I had made him think, even if just for a brief second.

He didn’t immediately apologize, which told me everything I needed to know. He wasn’t ready to back down yet. But I wasn’t done.

“Just stop hiding behind your assumptions, Lando,” I added, my voice firm. “It’s not a good look. You can’t just brush off people based on things you hear when there’s no real truth to it. It’s lazy, and frankly, it’s disappointing.”

Lando stood there, looking caught off guard by my directness. He wasn’t apologizing, not really. But I could see that I had planted a seed. Maybe it would take a while for him to truly get it, but at least for now, I had made my point. And I wasn’t about to let anyone walk over me—especially not when I knew I was capable of so much more than the rumors said.

“I... didn’t realize it was that big of a deal,” he said, his voice a little quieter now. “I’m just trying to keep up with everything going on around here.” “Well, try harder,” I shot back, my tone biting. “Because if you can’t see past the rumors, you’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

With that, I turned away, my heart still racing with anger. I didn’t want his apology, not really. I wasn’t looking for anyone’s approval. But I wasn’t going to let anyone make me feel small just because they couldn’t look beyond what they heard. I walked away, leaving Lando and Oscar to whatever thoughts they were processing, knowing that I had made myself clear.

Franco, who had been watching from the sidelines, gave me an approving smile as I returned to his side. I didn’t need to look back to know that the tension between Lando and me wasn’t going to disappear anytime soon. But that was fine by me. It was time for me to prove myself on the track, and if Lando and the others had to learn the hard way, so be it.

[househrt]

transfem egg Chase

secretly loves it whenever anyone calls him pretty (though he wishes they would stop adding "boy" afterwards)

has confusing feelings whenever House makes jokes about him being a girl (but he doesn't hate it?? does House know something?? what does it mean??)

cut his hair short to try and perform cis masculinity, and because he got dysphoric from being seen as "the male doctor with long hair" and now he's just seen as a doctor (but he misses his long hair)

was friends with mostly girls in high school and liked how they treated him like he wasn't that different from them

loves being a doctor because it means he has a gender neutral title and goes by his surname only

loves halloween (even though Australia doesn't really celebrate it like the US does) because it's an excuse to dress fem

experimented with feminisation when he was in the kink scene, but left the scene because he couldn't stop thinking about how it made him feel

prayed as a teenager in Catholic school that he would learn how to act and think like the other boys, because he never understood why he was different

and, post-egg-crack:

has the most gloriously lesbian relationship with previously-comphet-suffering Cameron, who is finally in a relationship that she hasn't felt is doomed from the start

is still the butt of House's jokes, but now she knows House was (mostly) just trying to crack her egg (house in this version of canon is dating trans man wilson btw)

post-cameron breakup, chase has a string of toxic messy lesbian situationships before figuring out the lesbian dating scene

is a total u-haul lesbian

other thoughts I had:

transfem chase with a short butch <333

wilson very awkwardly comes out to chase because he feels the need to give advice, but by this point chase is past the need for advice from dr repressed

house makes many jokes about chase being a diversity hire and/or that now house, as a cis man, is a minority on the team and therefore should be allowed to do whatever he wants (which is what he does anyway)

[so-i-did-this-thing]

What are good questions to ask in job interviews to find out if a place is going to be friendly to your continued transition? I have been on T for about a year and am job hunting right now and I'm worried about reaching a point sometime in the next year where I have no choice but to come out because I don't read as a woman anymore.

Ok, big caveat from me: I was once in your exact position. I had just started T and decided to interview with a small company who assumed I was a woman. (I am guessing they thought I was a butch lesbian - I still had my gender-neutral deadname. I did not assert my pronouns.) When they gave me an offer, I let them know I was transitioning. I still got hired, but was treated as an inconvenience. They did not suggest I immediately switch to male presentation, and I was too scared to suggest it. It started getting hostile when other employees noticed my voice changing. I really wish I had just gone into the interview presenting male and I ended up quitting the job within 8 months because it got too awkward.

So. As for my advice:

I'd start with Glassdoor to read employee reviews. I'd also check the company's social media, plus that of the people in your chain of command to do some vibe checking. People who are transphobic are commonly going to be very vocal about right-wing leanings, and you'll see some signs, even on LinkedIn. Check if they have anti-discrimination statements in any of their hiring material, or stated commitments to diversity and inclusion.

In the interview, ask about what sort of clients they attract and what charities/orgs they support and sponsor. If you feel the vibes are promising, ask if they sponsor local Pride. Ask general culture questions about team building and employee enrichment. Ask what healthcare benefits look like and other employee assistance perks they may have. Fish around for gendered policies that could cause you problems, like dress codes. That said, can you bite the bullet and go ahead and interview in a masc gender presentation? Because honestly, that will be the best gauge of how you are going to be received. (And in my experience, folks are fairly likely to assume a masc presenting person is male.)

I tend to be very careful about outing myself until I'm sure I'm in a supportive culture with HR to back me up -- and this might be something you can't discover until you are hired and working for a while. And even then, I've just been very matter-of-fact about transition stuff, saying things like (when doing my background check) "I have older documentation that doesn't match my current name or gender marker, and I can provide any additional paperwork if needed." When I changed my legal name, I gave my boss a simple communication plan on how I'd tell co-workers and clients. Though at that point, most folks assumed I was a cis man, so it was a very different experience compared to that awful 8-month long job.

I wish I had more advice, but a lot depends on how badly you need a job, how safe you feel, and if you have options like only staying in your next job until passing as a woman becomes a problem. To be bluntly honest -- you *will* lose opportunities in your life due to being trans and it's just something to have to have backup plans for (I lost a ton of music gig work because everyone in the industry is all up in each other's shit). But whatever you do, document everything you can related to you being trans, because you never know when you'll need to raise a discrimination case. :/

[rdng1230]

Sal Deluca Meta

Okie dokie here we go. Just remember y'all asked for this.

Here are some repeated talking points I’ve seen about Sal and why I think most of them are ignoring certain contexts or misattributing things to Sal that were said/done by somebody else. Also just general thoughts about our little mook.

Hen Begins

That Sal was a raging racist/sexist/homophobic. 

Let’s deal with the first one first. Is he a member of the white boys club? Absolutely. He makes no effort to include Hen and doesn’t really acknowledge her at all until he’s complimenting her for her skills at the end of the episode. This is OBVIOUSLY not good. He should’ve been kinder and more welcoming to her. But the only one who specifically makes negative/mean comments about Hen is Gerrard and Tommy. Literally the only thing you could even interpret that way is him saying “for real?” to Gerrard’s diversity hire comment and the fact that he drops the pick axe or whatever the hell that metal thing was on the floor along with everybody else besides Chim. Not great, but also with what we know about how other rookies are treated even by Hen herself, I don’t think any of this behavior falls into “irredeemable racist monster” Buck chased Ravi with a chainsaw for christ sake. 

Ok now the sexism. He actually stares daggers at Gerrard for the entirety of his stupid “waste of taxpayer money/women won’t be able to rescue my guys” spiel. Like the camera specifically focuses on Sal looking pissed as hell. Another thing I’ve heard falsely said is that after Gerrard storms off, Sal/Tommy follow him. That’s not true. They do get up and leave but they actually leave in the ass opposite direction. Sal’s face when he signals to Tommy to get up reads to me as “let’s get the hell away from the fallout of that grossness.” not “I agree with what that dinosaur just said.” But I also realize people can interpret that moment differently. 

I think the sexist reading largely comes from the Kristen Stewart conversation. And come on, This is the lesbian website, if we start dinging people for finding Kristen Stewart attractive, we’re all going down. Plus again, Buck was STEALING EMERGENCY EQUIPMENT TO GO GET LAID AND HE’S EVERYBODY’S FAV SO I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT. We see Sal kind of ignore Hen but also agree with her at the same time during this exchange. Again a case of Sal not really acknowledging Hen but not attacking her either. Go and look at his face when Tommy says that NY bitchiness comment. Sal does not look at all happy with him. Most of the time when anyone is being actively mean Sal looks pissed off, not approving.

Ok now the homophobia thing. And it's at this point I’m going to bring up the idea that some characters seem bad/good not based on their actions but on whose perspective we’re viewing those actions from. I see this being a problem with several characters. Most notably Taylor Kelly. But that's a whole other post. 

Sal’s team Jacob comment is homophobic and gross but it's also 1) 2009 and 2) directed at someone who he clearly knows incredibly well and who we KNOW gives as good as he gets. I easily could’ve seen this interaction reversed with Tommy saying that to Sal because that's who they are and how their friendship works. But because we’re seeing this from Hen’s perspective it's another thing that makes her feel isolated and othered. And again THAT IS NOT GOOD SAL SHOULD NOT BE DOING THAT. But I don’t think Sal at all said that with the intention of putting Hen down, it very clearly reads to me as Sal teasing/riling Tommy up as they always have. Now obviously the harm still hits even if the intent wasn’t present. But I think if we can forgive Tommy for comments that were MEANT to be mean, then we can forgive Sal for comments that were just him fucking around with his best friend of several years. 

That Sal was the ringleader or Gerrard’s right hand man

Does Sal have a sort of in charge vibe? Yeah absolutely. But very notably the only thing he actually initiates is the olive branch. It’s him that offers a hand to Hen and says nice job and you’re good at what you do. I also will die on the hill that the hemorrhoid complaint was his. Chim would definitely say that but not in an official report, Tommy would definitely bad mouth Gerrard, but not like that. Now who is known for kind of cruder language and a short fuse and absolutely would put that down in an official report? Sal motherfucking Deluca that’s who. 

One notable thing that I find interesting is that Hen herself distinguishes Gerrard’s behavior from the rest of the team's. She definitely gives them hell during her big speech but when Chim does dishes with her she specifically says men like him not men like them. Just something I realized on my most recent rewatch. 

To summarize, the only real thing Sal did that was unique to him (because they all failed to stick up for Hen, yes even Chim. Chim was nice to her but he never actually stood up for her to Gerrard’s face. He tried to redirect the conversation a couple times but that was it.) was the Kristen stewart comments and the Team Jacob comment. I would argue Tommy’s comments in Chimney begins and his NY bitchiness comment in Hen Begins are way more targeted, hateful, and fucking rude. (said with all love because we know Tommy had a bunch of growth and change and became the man we all know and adore.) IMO nothing in Hen begins that Sal says/does is as bad as what Tommy did/said.

Bobby Begins Again

Ok another reason why I don’t think Sal is this irredeemable sexist/racist/homophobic pig is WHY ON EARTH WOULD HEN STAND UP FOR HIM IF HE WAS???!?!?!? Hen is THE FIRST PERSON TO CALL OUT THAT CRAP even from the first episode she says something like “why is that always the first instinct with you whiteboy macho types?” So why why why why would she stand up for Sal if he hadn’t shown any improvement in that area in the now 7 years minimum that she’s worked with him. Answer: she fucking wouldn’t. Ok moving on.

The Bobby stuff

So remember how I said perspective changes everything? This is the major reason why. We as the audience love Bobby and know intimately the struggles he’s faced, so we’re naturally going to be angered by anyone who is antagonistic towards him. The thing is Sal doesn’t know ANY of that. This is what Sal knows about Bobby.

He’s from somewhere in middle America and has never worked in a MAJOR American city like LA/NYC. That’s it. He COMPLETELY ACCURATELY I MIGHT ADD predicts that anybody with that background will struggle to adapt to the specifics of LA. It’s Sal that has to pick up Bobby’s slack as he adjusts, calling out the shots at the tree trimmer call, taking the initiative with Maurice even though Bobby does ultimately do the saving. (Which Sal actually seems impressed by btw.) Bobby still can’t even read the city map when they pull up to the restaurant fire call. 

Now imagine you’re Sal. First you had Gerrard as captain, who (I think it's fair to say) you DID NOT LIKE. One of the things he did was put down firefighters who disobeyed orders by rescuing people. We saw this with the “fetching a tide” call and with saving the boy in the submerged car. Hen disobeyed orders but showed real skill as a firefighter. And all she got for her troubles was being berated by her Captain. 

Ok then after Gerrard you have an interim captain that seems like a decent dude, but he leaves and for a while you have a revolving door of retiring brass that are checked out, behind the times, or just generally disengaged. You become used to filling in as captain and get actually pretty damn good at managing the team. (I say this because Sal leads the team several times in BBA and nobody looks at all like this is a new development) Then they finally pick a nobody who has never worked in a proper city before and to you he’s just the newest asshole that will probably screw up and get someone killed. Sal has no idea about the challenges or traumas Bobby has had to face, just like we have no idea what might have happened in the 5+ years between HB and BBA. Sal has probably MANY REASONS not to trust Bobby that we don’t know about. 

So how would you feel after you’ve successfully rescued a teenage boy’s life, if your new captain who you’ve known for like a day and still doesn’t even know how to get the engine to calls on time, calls YOU stupid for SUCCESSFULLY SAVING A CHILD’S LIFE. I think you’d be likely to blow up a little too. 

Was Sal a hothead? Absolutely. Was he being smart by mouthing off to Bobby? Absolutely not. But I think his lines to Bobby during that scene are so telling. “You’re just the latest jag off in a long line of jag offs to come to this house and think you know how to run it.” In other words, he’s not really seeing Bobby during this exchange (he couldn’t possibly, Bobby is still being very closed off and won’t tell anyone what his story is for years) he’s seeing the long line of assholes that started with Gerrard that Bobby is unknowingly falling into the pattern of. Just like how Bobby didn’t really see Sal and one relatively tiny restaurant, he saw his wife and family and a massive apartment building with no way out. That to me is the tragedy of Bobby and Sal. I genuinely think they could’ve learned a lot from each other if they had left their baggage at the door. 

In other words, would we judge Sal if he had gone after Gerrard in the way he went after Bobby? I doubt it. And that to me is what Sal is actually doing, going after Gerrard and all the other nameless asshole captains he’s been dealing with for YEARS. Sal was hotheaded and impulsive, but at the end of the day I think he was just dealing with misplaced anger that he put on Bobby, something both Buck and Eddie have done at some point or another even when they DID have all the information. If you can forgive the lawsuit arc, and Eddie’s comments in season 5 about Bobby’s kill count than dear god I think Sal has more than earned a pass. 

Overarching things I find interesting about Sal that I don’t see anyone talking about 

He cares a lot about the people they save on rescues, he’s the one on the majority of calls saying some variant of “its gonna be ok/we’re gonna get you out/don’t worry. Whatever the firefighter equivalent of bedside manner is, this guy has it. 

His personal code of who he gives a shit about seems to boil down entirely to who has skills/is talented and who isn’t. The minute Hen shows real promise by saving that little boy, he is down there hand shaking and complimenting her. Ditto Freddie Costas. “Smart kid, probably saved his own life with that move.” You see this in his conversation with Bobby too “that wasn’t luck man that was skill.” You have to earn Sal’s respect and the way you do is by demonstrating competence. Sal genuinely does look impressed with Bobby for apprehending Maurice and showing ingenuity, the problem is it's immediately undercut when Bobby belittles him for saving the kid. 

Anywho, that’s my Sal defense thesis. There’s probably other stuff I forgot but that's the bulk of it. I reserve the right to randomly reblog this with any other shit that comes to mind. Also as a disclaimer I still LOVE reading toxic Sal or asshole Sal content, absolutely eat it up with a spoon gimme gimme gimme. But I think it would be unfair to say that’s the ONLY read of him. He clearly does give a shit and is capable of growth and change, he just also happens to have a short fuse and very little willingness to go about things in a tactful way. 

TLDR: free my man, he did do some of that shit but so did your blorbos, it's just your blorbos had the narrative on their side when they did it.

[thelaurenshippen]

finally taking the time to read through the SAG agreement summary and oof, I hope they have an AI town hall soon because...well, there are things to discuss!

so, in case folks are curious, here are my immediate takeaways from the deal as a SAG actor, a SAG producer, and person who is not any kind of expert but spends a lot of time being skeptical of contracts I sign. this is a summation/commentary, not a holistic breakdown of every point, nor even an in-depth discussion of the points I do talk about. and it is, of course, in no way legal advice or voting advice.

this post is already maybe the longest post I've ever written on tumblr (lol) and I feel like I've barely scratched the surface. to be clear, nothing I'm saying here represents how I'm going to vote, how I think other actors should vote, or my be-all-end-all stance on a particular issue. this is me reading through, flagging what concerns me, and asking myself questions. and I'm here to take your questions too! though of course my expertise is limited.

(what?? something I wrote got annoying long?? in my tumblr? it's more likely, etc. huge write-up after the cut)

the good

self-tape stuff: this is one of the more niche/the thing that the general public will find least interesting, but they've put in a lot of provisions to make sure self-tape auditions have limits (# of pages, no stunts, no nudity, doesn't have to be professionally shot, etc.) which is amazing because these types of auditions have gotten out of control since the pandemic. this feels like a great gain

data transparency: in no world did I think the streamers were ever going to agree to any data sharing with either the wga or sag so even though the data is limited, this still feels huge to me.

folks who sing and dance will be paid for both of those things now, which is great

they've added MLK day and Juneteenth as holidays (about time)

a performer cannot be required to translate their own lines

principal performers are required to be given hair and makeup consultation or reimbursed for obtaining their own services - this seems like a small thing, but it's being put in here pretty much entirely because HMU services have generally been appalling when it comes to textured hair/a variety of skin tones. there's also stuff in here about working to hire more diverse HMU artists

it looks like it's going to be easier/provide a path for folks getting IMDb credits even if they're not credited on screen

miscellany: there's a bunch of gains in wage increases, P&H increases, relocation fees, franchise language etc. that all seem good to me, though my limited knowledge on those subjects prevents me from going in depth on them.

this is not important, but it tickled me, there's a term to replace all instances of "telegraph" in the contract with "email & text" which like...why has it taken us thirty years to do that lol.

the "...hm..."

intimacy coordinators: oof. when I watched the press conference SAG gave, I was fucking thrilled when they said that the new agreement required folks to hire intimacy coordinators for nudity and simulated sex scenes. that was almost reason enough for me to vote for it tbh - not requiring it is the exact reason I voted no on our last contract. however, reading the contract summary now, the exact language is: "Producer must use best efforts to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for scenes involving nudity or simulated sex and will consider in good faith any request by a performer to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for other scenes. Producer shall not retaliate against a performer for requesting an Intimacy Coordinator." this....sucks. "best efforts" and "good faith" are not the same as "required". IMO, an intimacy coordinator is the same thing as having a stunt coordinator or, like, any number of health and safety requirements. OSHA doesn't say you must "in good faith" put your "best effort" to providing fire exits. it's great that performers can request coordinators for any kind of scene, and this is still the strongest language we've ever had in a contract but....c'mon guys.

residuals: look, I can't speak to these new terms in any concrete way. there are increases, there are bonuses for streaming success, there's a whole thing about a fund regarding those successes that I need explained to me more in depth, but overall, it looks like we made some in-roads here. as someone who employs actors under digital distribution contracts that has no residuals (podcasts), I know how genuinely cumbersome the unholy trifecta of "views-success-profit" can be (as in views do not equal success, success does not equal profit, etc.). I also have no sympathy when the majority of companies dealing with that cumbersome trifecta are massive media conglomerates. anyway, long story short, idk if this is good enough, I'm hoping to attend the next info meeting sag has.

the bad

the new hair/makeup provisions are explicitly for principal actors. while I hope it leads to better, more inclusive HMU services all around I haaaate that this implies supporting or background actors (who oftentimes also have to sit in HMU) don't deserve the consideration. (then again, background actors are usually required to do their own HMU/bring their own costumes, but for productions where that's not the case, the same HMU provisions should apply IMO)

as with every contract, there's language that could be stronger, clarity that needs to exist, and important things missing - but this isn't the final contract and I'm not a lawyer, so I'm gonna leave that stuff to the experts.

but, "lauren", you say, "what about all the AI stuff? where does that go?" well, reader, I was planning on including that in the above but it's the hot-button issue right now and I think it's wickedly complicated, so I wanted to break it down separately, after I had a chance to point out all the good-bad-in-between stuff that's not getting talked about.

a note: in my career, I've learned there's two big things to keep in mind when reading a contract you might sign:

what is the worst case interpretation of this language (thank you to my lawyer, prince among men, for teaching me how to do this in practice (that said, anything I say here is not legal advice, he'd also want me to say that lol))

what are you willing to lose/compromise on/what are the limits of your pragmatism? contracts are not about a company giving you everything you want out of the goodness of their heart - it is always a compromise. pragmatism has to be a part of the equation.

so, with that said, I'm going to play a little devil's advocate here, and a) try to find the good/the pragmatic and b) catastrophize the worst case scenario. but first, it might be handy to look at this SAG infographic for some basic definitions. let's go.

the AI good

a ton of stuff here requires consent. that is not a small thing, and the consent continues even after your death (whether it was a yes or no; though this can be complicated by your estate/your union)

the language does establish that the consent must be a separate signing from the employment contract, even if its in the contract, which is great (but more on that below - timing matters)

actors often do get paid for use of their digital replicas, though it's different based on the use/type of replica.

the actor must be provided with a "reasonably specific description of the intended use". this language is vaguer than I would like, because it allows producers to decide what "reasonably specific" and "intended" means - there's always going to be some vagueness when it comes to this specific thing, but a good start would be for producers to require not blanket consent, but conditional consent for each significant use of digital replicas.

if the replicas are being used in other mediums, that must also be consented to, thank god.

replicas cannot be used in place of background actor counts on a given day - if I'm understanding this correctly, this means a production can't just have a bunch of fake background actors by themselves, they have to engage real people up to a certain number first (which in this new contract is 25 for TV and 85 for movies). we're already filling in background with digital people or copy-pasting of the same crowd over and over and have been doing so since at least the late 90s, so it's good we're continuing to put up boundaries around that.

the AI "...hm..."

it's unclear (to me) when an actor can be asked to consent. IMO, everything is meaningless if the consent is happening as part of regular contract negotiations. these things have to happen when - and only when - the actor has already been engaged in a role and feels empowered to say no

the use of independently created replicas (replicas pulled from existing footage, not created by the actor) being allowed without consent under first amendment reasoning - this is obviously concerning a lot of people bc first amendment arguments are so broad. that said, there's a pragmatism part of me that understands this is already happening/has been happening for a while and used in ways I think are perfectly fine - I was just watching the new episode of For All Mankind (one of the best TV shows right now!) and it's an alternate history, which meant that in the opening scenes of this season they had some bonkers good deep fakes of Al Gore saying stuff he never said. I think that's okay to do in a fiction show that imagines a different US history! "but Lauren", you might be saying, "Al Gore isn't a member of SAG!" are you sure? are you positive? because I'm pretty certain he is - he was in several episodes of 30 Rock, way more people are in SAG than you think (every NPR reporter for instance), and the two worst presidents we've had in the last 50 years (yes, those ones), are both definitely members of SAG (even if one is dead). now, the other side of this is that public figures like politicians are under a different social contract than actors, and if they wanted to sue, they could, unlike the average SAG actor who might have their image abused. this is why this is in the "hm" column - deep fakes and parody/satire/commentary use of replicas is already here and there's always going to be a 1st amendment argument to make, so we need to figure out how best to limit those and protect the most vulnerable.

alteration: with this language, a project can digitally alter without consent if the script and performance stays "substantially" the same. again, this language is too mealy-mouthed. I don't know that I have a huge problem with a line of dialogue getting replaced with a digital version of that actors voice if, for instance, a word was mispronounced, or wind garbled the sound or whatever - yes, it would eliminate the need for ADR, but if we put some limit on it like..."if there are more than 5 lines in a given episode/movie that require digital alteration in the service of clarity, the actor must be engaged for an ADR session or paid for the digital replacement" then I could see this being workable. I'm also personally okay with things like costumes being digitally altered but, again, we need limitations on that. digital altering cannot replace the art of costuming but, for instance, if a costume needs to be altered to include a hate symbol or something, I think that's fine (example: I have friends who worked at the VFX house for an alternate history TV show that involved a lot of Nazi costuming and set design - a huge part of that VFX house's job was to put swastikas in places, rather than props making nazi flags. I'm okay with that!) but again, these fringe cases do not a compelling arugment make, and this contract language can be interpreted too broadly for my comfort! like everything else in this "hm" category, I need to see the final contract language to decide.

the AI bad

there's a bunch of circumstances in which actors don't get paid for creating their replica/use of it and those circumstances are too broad for my taste.

synthetic performers - this is just awful. no. no, we should not be allowing AI to generate entire actors. just............no. there's some language about the producers having to talk to the union if the synthetic performer is "used in place of a performer who would have been engaged under this Agreement in a human role" but this doesn't apply to non-human characters so....wouldn't that be all roles?? leaving the producers room to be like "this role has to be synthetic, we never would've cast a human!" is bullshit. also, even if we're having AI create a magical talking unicorn whole cloth (which, like, also no, we have artists for this), that unicorn still needs to be voiced by a human person. this whole section is a disaster.

the exceptions to consent for digital alteration are bad-bad. I talked about the potential ADR replacement above and that has a whole host of issues with it that I didn't even get into, but I can see the argument. the rest are very troubling:

there is an exception under "any circumstance when dubbing or use of a double is permitted under the Codified Basic Agreement or Television Agreement" - okay, so does this mean we can replace dubbing artists and stunt performers entirely? this section is about digital alteration, but who's to say alteration couldn't turn an actor broadly miming a fight into an entirely digital, expertly performed fight that usually a stunt double would have done? with AI translation technology, does this mean we're replacing VO artists for dubs entirely? bad!

similarly, "Adjusting lip and/or other facial or body movement and/or the voice of the performer to a foreign language, or for purposes of changes to dialogue or photography necessary for license or sale to a particular market" - Justine Bateman has a great twitter thread on the terrible puppetry potential of this but I want to draw attention to the particular market bit - we all know that selling to china is such a huge part of studios' strategies that they'll remove entire scenes or lines around queer stuff. to me, this clause makes all of that so much easier. I know the argument here is going to be "we can replace swear words and license it for kids!" which.......sure? fine? but, uh, we already have ways to deal with that? and the potential for abuse here is terrifying to me. with all the digital alteration stuff too, there's just so much icky implication for the beauty/body standard to get so much worse.

if a background actor’s digital replica is used in the role of a principal performer, they'll be paid as if they actually performed the days for that role, which, sure, but uhhhh why are we saying it's okay for a digital replica of a background actor to suddenly be a leading role!?!?! I can't think of anything more demoralizing than going to set to act in background (a job I've done! an important job! a fun job a lot of the time! but creatively limited) and then getting a much bigger role (the dream!) and.....not being able to, you know, act that role or be in scenes with other principal actors or do the thing that you've dedicated your life to doing. nightmare stuff.

woof. there's so much more to say but I'm going to leave it there. these are the concerns I'm going to go into SAG's meetings with, and the concerns I'll be considering as I decide how to vote. I know there are things I didn't address and very possibly things I misinterpreted or misrepresented - if you're an actor, I highly recommend a) reading that Justine Bateman thread and b) attending SAG's meetings to ask questions and express your concerns. and I'd love to hear what y'all think! my ask box is open.

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 44

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 2.6K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

The days stretched on into weeks and the absence of news about the conflict between the Night Court and Autumn Court gnawed at your stomach like a knot. You kept telling yourself that no news was better than bad news, but it did little to ease your worries. Trying to distract yourself, you threw yourself into community housing projects and outreach work. Living in the apartments now, you saw firsthand the changes that needed to be made - everything was too dull and lifeless. Despite hoping that residents would bring their own personal touches to make the place cozier, many of them had nothing more than the clothes on their backs. It was then that you decided to create a fund for hiring interior designers from Velaris' fashion districts to liven up the homes. However, many of them were hesitant to step foot into the lower end of the city, let alone work for its impoverished residents. But there were a few generous souls who gladly offered their time, resources, and expertise to help transform the complex. Plush carpeting, fresh paint, and cozy furniture slowly brought life back into the once dreary space.

Your days were now consumed with work, keeping busy whenever there was a moment of quiet. But despite your efforts, thoughts of Azriel lingered constantly. You wondered what he ate for dinner, if it was anything like the delicious chicken curry that one of the mothers had spent all afternoon preparing but didn't have enough ingredients to feed everyone. Did he reach for you in his sleep, searching for warmth and finding only cold sheets? Did he gaze at the moon and feel comfort knowing you were both living under the same night sky?

As promised, Rhysand came to the apartments three times a week, bearing trays of delectable desserts made by Elain and fabric swatches painstakingly chosen and sent by Nesta. Even though you often found yourself lost in thought, trying to discern the minute differences between the fabrics, Nesta still desperately sought your opinion on the nursery. It was an odd sight, seeing the High Lord of the Night Court seated in a too-small apartment, perched upon a rickety second-hand chair. The residents would bow down in reverence at his presence, but he would just give them a soft smile, urging them not to treat him as anything more than a visitor. You rolled your eyes at this statement, knowing all too well that those who saw him with such admiration would be shocked to see him lounging in an oversized chair in his library - feet propped up in pajamas while Nyx curled into his lap, both of their hair tousled from sleep. It was a familiar scene for you now. How had you become so intimately acquainted with the most powerful male in all of the Night Court?

Your conversations were solely focused on practical matters - discussions about the housing project, funding allocations, building permits and requests for aid. You often also worked on your shielding practice. But there was one question that lingered in your mind - if you were able to build up that barrier between you and your mate, could you return to the safety of the Townhouse, to Azriel? Although a part of you wanted to ask Rhysand for his plans regarding your future, you hesitated. You thought it better to live in the naivety that if you just worked hard enough on your shielding you might be able to go home instead of the more probably reality that even if you could keep everyone out, you wouldn’t be allowed back until everything had been resolved.

—

The bed was like a slab of concrete, the sheets coarse and rough against your skin as you lay on your side. The darkness of the room seemed to press in, with only the faint light from the streetlights outside casting long shadows of trees onto the ceiling. The branches swayed and scraped against the window, causing an eerie rhythm that matched the howling wind outside. You squinted at your clock, trying to make out the time. Was it nearing three in the morning? It felt like hours had passed since you crawled into bed, but sleep still eluded you. With a heavy sigh, you rolled onto your back, feeling the cool lace of your nightdress brush against your fingers. The blankets were suffocatingly warm, so you kicked them off, only to be met with a sharp chill from the drafty windows that refused to seal properly. Another thing to add to your never-ending list of things to fix within the apartments.

You slowly swung your legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the hard mattress beneath you as you sat up. Rubbing your tired eyes, you took a moment to adjust to the dimly lit room. With a sigh, you stood up and your toes touched the cold wood floor, sending a shiver through your body. Your back ached with exhaustion as you walked over to the desk on the other side of the room. Flicking on a small lamp, you pulled on the cozy wool cardigan that was draped over the chair, still warm from when you had thrown it there earlier in the day. The thick material hugged your body as you settled into the desk chair, surrounded by stacks of papers waiting to be sorted through. The desk was cluttered and much too small for all of your work, so instead of working there, you often spread everything out on the floor like a giant map. But tonight, it was too late for that, so you simply grabbed a fresh sheet of parchment and started writing a letter to a contractor who could potentially fix your broken windows.

As you wrote down a few words, a cool breeze brushed against your ankle, causing you to look down in surprise. But there was nothing there. You shook your head, pushing away any creeping feelings of loneliness or sadness. Brushing a strand of hair out of your face, you continued writing. Suddenly, another chill ran up your leg and you couldn't ignore it any longer. Pushing away from the desk, you got down on your hands and knees to investigate.

In the corner of the room, two shadows darted up the wall and disappeared into darkness. You let out a light laugh and whispered out into the empty space, "Hello." Your voice caused ripples in the darkness and for a brief moment, it seemed like something was stirring.

"It's okay," you whispered again, beckoning them closer. "Come down!"

One of the shadows hesitantly crept out from the darkness, moving along the top of the wall like a cautious cat. "Don't be shy," you encouraged with a soft laugh.

The shadow paused for a moment, its edges rippling and shifting in thought. Slowly, it started to make its way down the wall, eventually morphing into a thin line before dissolving into a pile on the floor. "Come on," you whispered, crouching down and reaching out your hand.

The other shadow, slightly smaller than the first, followed suit and slithered down the wall towards you. It stayed close to the floor, wrapping around your ankles as it cautiously approached. As it touched your fingertips, you could feel the coldness of its touch enveloping your hand in a grey fog. But as it recognized your touch, it seemed to gain confidence and began moving more quickly up your arm.

You couldn't help but giggle as the cool tickle of the first shadow joined by another, both climbing onto your lap and wrapping themselves around you. The first shadow seemed to have a mind of its own, making its way up your body until it reached your neck, sending a shiver down your spine with its chilly touch. It then weaved through your hair, lightly tugging at strands as it hid behind you while the second shadow curled around your thighs and settled in your lap.

"Did he send you?" You whispered. The shadows seemed to quiver with excitement and you took that as a yes. "Is he doing alright?" The shadows seemed to pause momentarily, their movements becoming more drawn out as if considering your question. You couldn't bring yourself to hope for good news as the shadow on your lap curled down towards the floor. Suddenly, it slithered over to the lamp, coiling around the adjustable arm and then rearing up as though it was looking right at you. You raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What?" The shadow continued its slithering path, occasionally stopping to seemingly look at you.

You stood up and approached the lamp where the shadow seemed to pause in its journey, staring back at you. "What do you want?" You asked, reaching out to touch the lamp and adjusting the arm slightly downwards. The shadow halted its movement so you stopped yours as well. But when you started moving the arm of the lamp back up, the shadow picked up its pace again. You soon realized that this was how it communicated. As you turned the lamp upwards, the light illuminated against the wall, casting bright rays against the otherwise bland beige paint. In what seemed like pure excitement, the shadow scampered down your arm and back up again before joining its companion on the wall.

You took a cautious step back, your eyes locked on the two shadows as they seemed to merge and shift against the wall. The darkness coalesced into a swirling mass, like ink spilled on a canvas, until it finally split apart into two distinct figures. The larger shadow moved to one side of the light while the smaller one slunk to the opposite, as if in a dance.

Feeling a chill run down your spine, you retreated further onto the bed and pulled the rough wool blanket over your legs. As you watched, transfixed, the larger shadow began to take shape - sharp edges forming and an image materializing before your eyes. It was a male figure, with wings that resembled those of a bat. Your heart caught in your throat as the other shadow also shifted into a silhouette of a female.

The two shadows turned to face each other, their postures mirroring that of two lovers leaning against a windowsill. But then, the larger shadow split into two smaller pieces that scampered across the wall towards the female figure. With awe, you realized that these shadows were telling you a story - how Azriel had sent them to comfort you in his absence.

A small smile tugged at your lips and you felt tears prick at your eyes - tears of joy and longing. But you quickly blinked them away as the shadows morphed once again, shifting back into their amorphous forms before intertwining in the center and taking new shapes.

This time, it was the familiar outlines of Azriel and yourself. The two shadows embraced, their arms wrapping around each other in an intimate embrace. You could almost feel Azriel's kiss pressed gently into your hair - just as he always did when you hugged.

The shadows danced and shifted, creating a mesmerizing display of figures in the dimly lit room. Azriel sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he ran his hand through his hair - a nervous habit that you had grown to love. In one swift motion, he crumpled a piece of paper and tossed it away from the light, where it disappeared into the darkness.

You chuckled softly as the shadows transformed again, this time into the muscular form of Cassian with his signature half-up bun. Beside him stood Nesta, her pregnant belly rounded and glowing in the dim light. She delicately hung stars and moons onto a mobile, while Cassian worked on something below with a hammer in hand. The pile of materials suddenly transformed into a beautiful cradle, which Cassian proudly presented to Nesta.

So he had built it after all, you thought to yourself with a smile.

Cassian wrapped his strong arm around Nesta's shoulders as she rested her head against him, her hand gently tracing over her stomach. The scene before you was one of pure love and contentment, and you couldn't help but feel your heart swell at the sight.

The shifting shadows revealed Azriel, standing on a balcony overlooking the moonlit city below. The other shadow, representing the moon, soared upwards as Azriel reached out to touch it with one hand. But his posture was hunched and tense, back rising and falling as though it was sobbing. Your own tears mirrored his as you watched Nesta approach him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The shadow of Azriel turned and fell into her embrace, continuing to cry.

The scene shifted once again, showing the shadow of Azriel and your own shadowy figure walking together, hand in hand in slow motion. As you continued walking forward, the shadow of Azriel suddenly stopped and reached back for you. Your shadow turned to face him and he rushed towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up into the air with joy. A bittersweet laugh escaped your lips as the shadow of Azriel brought your figure close to his, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

In another scene, the shadows depicted a family dinner with Cassian, Azriel, Rhysand, Feyre, Nyx, Lucien, Elain, and an empty chair. As the shadows sat down to eat and a somber silence settled over them, even little Nyx remained still in his seat. The shadow of Azriel looked towards the empty chair – your chair – and you could feel their longing for you.

Once more, the shadows shifted to show Nyx standing on a platform with Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys at the edge of a lake. The shadows moved like waves over the water as Nyx took a running leap off the platform, his small wings flapping furiously before giving out and sending him plunging into the water below. The shadow of Cassian erupted in laughter while the shadow of Azriel pretended to winnow down to rescue the little boy. The scene repeated a few more times until finally, Nyx took a running leap and his wings caught in the air, allowing him to flap upwards with pride. The shadows of the three males on the platform joined Nyx in the air, their wings unfurling in celebration. He had learned to fly, something Feyre had been so worried about.

The shadows danced and shifted, revealing scenes from your old life that you had never truly appreciated until now. Moments with Azriel stood out the most - curling up on the couch together, wandering through the vibrant streets of Velaris. As they settled into place, the cool touch of the shadows caressed your skin, causing a shiver to run down your spine. One shadow even reached out to brush away a stray tear rolling down your cheek. You let out a soft sniffle and whispered, "Thank you."

In response, the shadows seemed to flicker and settle further around you, as if trying to comfort you in their own way. You allowed yourself to fully absorb the sensation of being enveloped by them, knowing it was Azriel who had sent them, directing them to show you what you had missed and how much he longed for you.

Feeling grateful, you shared your own memories with the shadows, including a few moments that you knew would make Azriel blush for slightly different reasons. With a smile, you thanked the shadows once more and watched as they dissipated into the night, carrying your love and longing back to their master who was surely missing you just as much as you were missing him.

Readers: @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria

@florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt

@quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf

@annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardust

@caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @sleepylunarwolf

@acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @loglady00 @caninne @weepingwerewolf

@hauntedpiratenacho

[sepublic]

When discussing the benefits but also the dangers of fantasy in TOH, it makes me consider how this ties into Belos’ bigotry, religious superiority, white supremacy, etc. Because I see how in the parallels to Luz and the depictions of his witch hunts as a ‘game’ he played as a kid, the show is getting into the thought process behind white supremacy and the like; Specifically, by suggesting that it comes from the same core principle of “I was born special, I’m a hero.”

Because think of it this way; I was born inherently better than others, it’s in my blood, I have to defeat evils? These aren’t unlike what white supremacists believe about themselves. After all, TOH is coming off of Harry Potter, which is criticized for the “It’s in his blood” trope with the protagonist.

This is foiled by Luz, who wants to believe at first that she’s special and things will automatically come to her because of it, but then Eda has to explain; Sorry kid, but if you want things you have to work for and earn them, just like anyone else. Some things can be attributed to luck on Luz’s part, but it’s not as if she’s blind to this and saying it’s ‘destiny’ (unlike someone else), plus in general we all have a bit of privilege in some ways.

And again, that ties back into Christian white supremacy, particularly the Puritans, who believed their colony would be a "City upon a Hill." That it’s their goal to enlighten people, or else root out the evildoers; You can see how this evolves into evangelicalism in the U.S. and the right’s obsession with anything new as satanic, even if it’s something like Elvis Presley or Pokemon (which Dana grew up with, coincidentally), or more recently, furries.

(No really, this actually happened I kid you not. It seems like an exaggeration but I swear it genuinely happened and it truly is absurd that it did.)

Anyhow I think that’s important, because it’s not just the message that Christian white supremacy is bad, it’s why people even believe and buy into these things to begin with. A lot of alt-right 4channers and the like fall into these rabbit holes because they feel cheated out of the implicit, unconscious promises of white supremacy and feel as if they’re owed something; So obviously women and PoC, the queers, the ‘diversity hires’ and affirmative action, this is what’s cheated them.

And you can see the connection between white christian ideas and how that can translate into a lot of fantasy stories, hence “It’s in your blood” and “It’s destiny,” as well as Isekai Colonialism; The idea that what if another world and its inhabitants just existed for you. These tropes are inspired by outdated ideas that Christian white supremacy, an outdated belief, has plenty examples of and sometimes even inspired.

And this is why it’s important to engage with these things critically and question them… But at the same time, Luz is still allowed to love Azura, it’s just about maintaining a critical eye and being self-aware of what you internalize and don’t. Hence her learning to differentiate reality from fiction and not become delusional; Hence King doing the same!

By making that connection, it does explain this type of bigotry by framing it in a way that viewers can actually relate to, even if they also condemn it just as much, if not moreso after understanding. It ties even the genocide with tropes like the dragon slayer, the endless horde of monsters you don’t ever have to feel bad about or question killing, or the DnD Evil Race; Which on their own, these stories aren’t necessarily in advocacy for genocide of course, some of them are just inspired by previous ones without making that connection. And most people know not to let it affect how they see reality.

Because it’s one thing to let yourself be petty and find catharsis against a genuine, extreme example who has gone out of their way to hurt you (those definitely exist, alas); But it’s another to actively search for people to feel angry towards, amidst groups unrelated to you, and provoke them until they give you that ‘justification’. Because you’re not responding to anything, you are the aggressor; In essence, you are performing a witch hunt, in a need to feel like a hero enacting righteous judgment.

Because you’re desperate for the power of putting someone else beneath you, which is what the mundane bully does, out of the belief this conversely translates into you being above others; Again, the ‘chosen one’ beliefs, the Christian white supremacy. And suddenly you better understand why Evangelicals raged over something as innocuous as the Pokemon games that Dana grew up with, back when they first came out.

So Luz understands; She does understand, better than some people, in fact. She understood the Collector. But just because she understands, doesn't necessarily mean Luz approves or excuses; She still has every right in condemning Belos because she never let herself go that far, and this behavior would be condemned even by those trying to make up for it; It’s why they try to make up for it. And the fiction Luz wants to happen for herself (which isn’t the same as the fictions one enjoys) isn't centered around there being hidden bad actors amongst the populace to constantly root out; Luz is only going to react, not act, and consistently, predominantly sees the best in others.

In the end, Belos latched onto Caleb marrying Evelyn, and then the Grimwalkers, and finally Luz, as a way of a proving a point to himself; That wiping out witches WAS in service of humanity, it would actually help them, by showing how he 'rescued' a human from temptation. I'm sure he genuinely loved Caleb, but in an extreme form of Luz's Wing it like Witches, at some point he subsumed Caleb's input and agency to instead make him into a docile trope to make decisions for.

And when Caleb didn't go along with that story, pointed out how it didn't fit the reality of the situation; Philip killed him! His priorities shifted from doing it for Caleb's sake, for the sake of HIS fantasy; He saw an opportunity to live out the Witch Hunter story and it mattered more to him than actually helping someone, or realizing in relief he didn't have to.

Hence the Titan saying Belos "fears what he can't control" due to "his need to be the hero in his own delusion." It’s a quote applicable to real life conservatives who look for things to outlaw, because hating makes them feel like righteous saviors; Remember Pokemon? Gotta save people from themselves and any potential temptations… Belos couldn't control Caleb, and the Grimwalkers? Belos' way of re-attempting his 'side quest' to again, prove that what he's doing is for the sake of humanity, in the absence of actual humans to work with.

Not that he cares about this for fear of hurting others, but because he fears it means he isn't the special hero. Note that Belos doesn't feel guilt over any witches and demons he killed in For the Future, it's telling; As is the assumption that even if he was treated with hostility when arriving in both Gravesfield and the isles, Belos still understood that murdering the colony was wrong… Yet ignores this lesson when it comes to demons because of hypocrisy, choosing to go after the world that was canonically accepting and would be much harder to attack.

And when Luz shows up, Belos abandons Hunter (showing how much he really cared) because Luz is a real human to save, even if she's technically a queer girl of color; But if you remember how Americans kidnapped Native children and assimilated them into Christian society and culture, it actually makes perfect sense because it's another form of genocide. And it's just as racist and insincere as the murder. And just like many homophobic Christians, Belos selectively chooses what to apply from the Bible because he knows it speaks contrary to what he does and he fears that, it’s something he can’t control despite his attempts to.

[brazenautomaton]

so here's a conversation I had with a friend just now that sums up a lot of what I think so well I don't want to bother rephrasing it

them

Oh boy are we ready for 48 more months of hearing the Most Sanest Normalest People on the internet act like a right-of-center candidate getting elected when put up against another nagging scold of a progressive "It's Her Turn"-er was a surprise

me:

The Democrats and their wider supporters don't seem to realize people can remember the things they say. They said Biden was fine, it was a wild right wing conspiracy to think he was unfit for office. Then he is clearly, actively disintegrating on stage at the debate, so now it's Harris! Of course it's Harris, what are you talking about, we've always been about Harris! Harris who was, it's important to note, a diversity hire. She was not a popular candidate. She did dismally in the primary, and was chosen as VP because it was Time For A Strong Woman Of Color

them:

Y-E-P God imagine taking the VP of an unpopular incumbent and saying "Yep, she's the one" and being surprised when that goes poorly It is genuinely alarming, though, how absolutely temporally untethered a lot of the discourse coming from the left is. Like, genuinely just "don't believe your lying memories" level of attempt to disregard stuff that happened not just in living memory, not just in the last decade, but happened during the current presidency. The lack of humility is also not just distasteful, but actually alarming. If you make predictions that are wildly off the mark to try to get people behind your candidate, you cannot then treat your wildly off-the-mark predictions as if they did not matter.

the primary strategy of the "guys who spent five years using 'gaslight' to mean 'disagree with'" appears to be attempted gaslighting. you just aren't allowed to notice things they say and do. every time someone is like "I don't like this thing you're doing," the democrats as a whole are all "That didn't happen and you're a bad person."

this is an effective strategy for winning conversations with people and a very bad strategy for winning elections. when people are upset about things you did or allowed to happen, "nuh uh you bad person" is not a response. "that shouldn't count" is not an effective counter even if you genuinely believe it should not count. a million morlocks-holmes saying "this has nothing to do with the democrats because no democratic holder of office has introduced a bill with explicitly racist language" isn't going to convince anyone who wasn't already convinced. you are not entitled to votes, you have to actually do things to win the election.

focusing on how bad and threatening Trump is is a losing strategy when we had a term of Trump and none of the fascist future we were warned of came to pass. Trump had a fucking vision of the future to really behind that more than zero people believed in. Now, I'm not a "typical" ad-watcher because I only saw campaign ads on YouTube (but I feel like this is not super atypical any more), but I saw a lot of Kamala Harris ads, and zero of them were about any of her plans or ideals or vision and all of them were about "You need to give us money right now to win the election." Like if you're using the money to make ads like this, that's kind of like a one-person pyramid scheme.

the Trump presidency will be terrible in a predictable, expected way. there will be no fascism, just a slow crumbling of our already-dismal institutional competence. I don't think the Democrats would have been much better. They'd still be beholden to an activist core of psychopaths and doing everything they can to cover for those people, while also governing incompetently and completely unable to capitalize on or draw attention to any good things they actually manage to do. Leftists and progressives are already going through the whole "the Democrats move us all to the right they only want to move to the right!" but the Democrats don't move at all; they don't think they should change their behavior, because when they lose an election it is because the voters failed them and not the other way around.

[burningfudge]

NYX #1 is so weird. It's very Kamala-focused, which I'm glad about, but the issue sort of sums up the reason why I didn't want her to become a mutant. Like yeah, being a mutant sucks, and maybe Kamala doesn't have as much experience with that as the others, but why are they preaching as if she doesn't know what it feels like to be discriminated against? My girl is literally brown and Muslim.

I like Sophie, but the rich white girl telling the bi black guy that he's a diversity hire is CRAZY, especially when he’s very pro-Krakoa. White girlboss feminism vibes. I hope this is the start of a deeper conversation, but the way this was written is just bizarre.

Also why did David get a new boyfriend? What was wrong with Tommy?

Laura was written so badly in this, ohmygod. Are we really going to start the "Avengers Don't Help the X-Men" tirade AGAIN? After Uncanny Avengers? After we literally just finished an entire Iron Man run where he took down an anti-mutant organization and teamed up with Emma Frost? And I don't like how Laura's acting as if Kamala isn't an experienced superhero at this point. Kamala's been on the Avengers and then led her own superhero team. She knows what she's doing.

Kelly & Lanzing have never been my favorite writers— their recent Guardians run was outright trash, and their Captain America and Thunderbolts runs put me to sleep, so I didn't have high expectations, but it's amazing how they manage to disappoint me every single time. Get Kamala out of the X-Office and put her back on the Avengers, please. I did, however, like that she went back to her normal Ms Marvel costume because I was not a fan of the X-Men Ms Marvel costume.

[happy74827]

Work Jitters

[Gideon Graves x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Getting the job at Graves Industries was hard enough, but keeping it? That was a whole new ballpark.

WC: 3752

Category: Slight Hurt, Slight Fluff (?), Gideon being… Gideon {TW—Vomiting}.

Jason Schwartzman, my beloved.

『••✎••』

Gideon Graves, that smug bastard.

You'd seen his picture in the paper once, or maybe more than once; you couldn't recall exactly. The article was about his company, about how he'd been awarded several "big brain" awards in the past three years, and about how his company was looking to hire the best and brightest. The article even said how much he valued diversity.

But then, why was he working so hard to keep you from the job?

It wasn't as though you were the most unqualified person in the world to be hired at G-Man Media. You'd worked in tech for a number of years. You'd worked hard. You were smart, and you had experience. But apparently, Gideon Graves had a way of making things difficult for you. He was looking for people who were more than qualified.

"But I'm plenty qualified," you'd told him, practically stomping your foot. "And you can't make me feel like I'm not qualified. You don't have that kind of power."

You'd watched in utter amazement as he'd waved his hand dismissively at you.

"Power?" He laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I have no power over you. I have influence. I can make life difficult for you, but it's not as though I'm doing that. You've simply failed to impress me."

Your cheeks burned as you tried to think of something clever to say to that, but there was no way to deny his words.

He didn't even sound angry. He sounded so sure of himself, so absolutely positive of his own superiority. And he'd been so smug about the whole thing, too. Like you were a piece of trash, he'd just found on the street.

And that had just pissed you off so badly. You were usually a fairly even-tempered person. But when you'd walked away from that meeting, you'd felt like you were about to burst out of your skin. You'd marched straight back to your car and driven to a nearby grocery store parking lot. You'd climbed out of the car and put your hands on the hood, pressing your forehead against the warm metal, letting yourself take a few deep breaths to try to calm yourself down.

And that was how you'd met Gideon Graves���

Your boss.

Yes, boss. Despite the fact that he openly admitted his dislike for you, you decided that he was wrong, so wrong, in fact, that you stormed up to him the next day and told him so.

"I'm not failing to impress you," you told him, "You’re failing to impress me.”

You'd watched him fold his arms over his chest and scowl at you. You'd wanted to bite your tongue. He'd had an intense scowl.

But you hadn't bitten your tongue. Instead, you'd done something even more stupid.

"I know how to work a computer," you snapped.

That wasn’t as hard-hitting as you'd intended; it was honestly the stupidest thing you have ever said, but it made that tiny corner of Gideon's lip turn up. Not his usual, knowing smirk, but an actual genuine smile.

"Oh?" he said, leaning back in his chair, tilting his head back and studying you, his eyes narrowed. "That’s one impressive skill set."

Sarcasm. You could deal with sarcasm. You'd dealt with sarcasm in college. Sarcasm was almost your best friend at this point.

"I'm a quick learner," you told him, "and I can work anything with a keyboard."

He laughed again, his smile growing. You were starting to think he just smiled when he was mocking people, but there had been times when his smiles had seemed more genuine, and this one had definitely felt genuine.

"I'm sure you are," he told you, and you felt yourself smile just a little bit when he didn't say it in a mocking tone. "But there's a little more to the job than that."

"I can do the job."

His eyes narrowed, and you were pretty sure he was trying to decide if he wanted to fight you. He leaned forward, placing his arms on the desk.

"What makes you think that you have any chance of winning this position? I told you once, and I’m telling you twice. You're not all that impressive."

"No," you agreed, "not compared to you. You're an idiot savant—a genius with a cocky attitude. But the company isn't looking for an idiot. They want someone with ambition. And I have it. I'm not giving up."

"No?"

"No."

He sat back in his seat, leaning back in his chair, a little smug smile curling his lips.

He was deep in contemplation. His eyes were on you. His face was an inscrutable mask, but his eyes. Those eyes of his. You felt as though he could see straight through you. He had seen you and known, without having to be told, that you weren't like the rest of his previous employees. That you were determined and that he wasn't going to be able to stop you.

He might not like you, but he recognized that you were going to keep trying to get the job and that you were probably the only person in the world who wasn't intimidated by his smug attitude.

"You have balls," he said.

"Thank you."

"No," he said with a frown, "that wasn't a compliment."

He shook his head and held out his hand. You glanced at it and then back at his face.

"A deal," he told you. "One week. You go to work, and you try your damnedest to impress me. Fail, and you’re gone. Pass, and you'll get the job. Deal?"

Your smile was wide, and you reached out and took his hand, giving it a shake.

"Deal," you said.

And here you were, nearly two weeks later, still with the job. You were honestly so impressed with yourself.

It wasn't always easy; Gideon Graves could be a real bastard. But he was an interesting person. He always looked so sure of himself, but there were moments where you could see his doubts. You could see them on the rare occasions when he was surprised or flustered. His confidence was sometimes only a mask for the uncertainty underneath.

He was an enigma to you.

You tried to learn as much about him as possible. You absolutely hated his attitude, but you were more than willing to admit to yourself that you were genuinely curious about the man. There was just something about him that made him fascinating to you. You wanted to know what was going on inside that complicated head of his.

So, you watched.

You watched as he ate lunch. You saw how he would never take more than two bites and would only take the smallest possible amount of time to eat. He never left a single crumb on the table, never let anything get near him that might leave even the tiniest bit of food on his clothes.

You saw how he would do his own filing and paperwork. He could type up a report in no time at all. And you could swear you'd seen him go through a pile of paperwork and not so much as lose his place once. You'd tried to copy his speed a few times, but your fingers were just too clumsy. You were nowhere near his skill level.

You watched how he handled people. He was arrogant, and he had his share of asshole moments, but he was always polite. Always professional. Even if the person he was speaking to was an idiot, he still managed to maintain his composure. Sure, he belittled them, but he did so in a way that was still professional. He never made any comment that would get him sued.

He never let his composure slip, except for one time, and It was all your fault.

You felt sick. You had woken up that morning with a headache and a body that felt like lead. It had taken you forever to get out of bed. By the time you had gotten yourself together and had managed to drag yourself to the shower, you'd felt even worse. But, with how Gideon acted, you were used to getting your work done regardless of how you were feeling, so you'd gotten dressed and headed to the office.

A total of four hours later, you were starting to regret not staying home.

You were doing your best to keep your eyes open, but you just couldn't stay awake. Your mind felt fuzzy. Your body was like a heavyweight. And all you could think about was going back to your apartment and crawling into bed. You could feel your body leaning forward.

The chair tipped, and your body rolled forward, nearly falling out of the chair, only stopping when you hit the edge of the desk.

And then there were hands on you.

Gideon's hands.

He had you, his arm under your shoulders, holding you against him as he straightened the chair.

"Office. Now. Before you hurt yourself," he said, his voice cold, his expression hard.

You stood up, but your head spun. You might have been able to fight it if he had actually helped you to your feet, but instead, he let go of you, watching with a frown as you wobbled back and forth before turning around and starting for the office.

Your feet felt heavy. Your body felt as though it was moving in slow motion. You stumbled a few times before making it into the room. He came in after you, closing the door behind him. You saw him scowl at you before walking to his desk. He leaned against it and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at you.

"So much for impressing me."

"Sorry," you said, slumping in the chair across from his desk. You could feel your eyes drifting closed. You couldn't help it, but you knew it was because you were so tired.

"I pay you to get your work done, not to go to sleep on the job. I don't care how sick you are. This is unacceptable."

You wanted to tell him you were sorry, but your mouth wouldn't move. You were just too tired.

"Do I have to drag you out of this chair myself?"

You managed to open your eyes and look up at him. You tried to say something, but all that came out was a mumble.

He frowned, his lips a tight line. He pushed off of the desk, and then he was moving towards you. Your stomach lurched as he reached down, grabbing hold of your arm and pulling you up. Your legs wobbled underneath you. His hand was at your elbow.

"Careful," he said, keeping his grip on you until you had straightened up. "You took this job knowing that it would require effort. I will not have you losing sight of what you're doing because you're too lazy to get out of bed in the morning."

"I-”

Then, the worst thing imaginable happened. Just as he was threatening to fire you, your stomach lurched again. But instead of it just being your stomach, this time, it was the entire digestive system as a whole.

It wasn’t until his release on your arm, the wave of nausea subsiding and your head spinning so hard that you could barely stand, that you realized what had happened.

You just puked all over your boss.

You looked at him in horror. His white suit and red shirt were completely covered in a disgusting mix of stomach fluids and coffee. This was where you saw him break. His normal, professional demeanor vanished, and his eyes grew wide, his jaw-dropping.

For a moment, you thought he might say something. But then his eyes narrowed, and his expression hardened, his lips pursing together. He was shaking from head to toe. You couldn't tell if he was angry or if he was disgusted.

"Out," he hissed, his voice quiet but venomous.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Get the hell out.”

You nodded and quickly did as you were told.

Great, not only did you ruin a suit that was probably worth more than your apartment, but you managed to piss off Gideon and get yourself fired. The job you fought so hard for was just thrown out the window in an instant. You didn't blame him. If you were him, you would have fired you too.

It was a long drive home. You were still feeling sick to your stomach, but now it became more like the feeling of a hangover than actual illness. Your headache had subsided a bit, but you felt achy all over.

You pulled up in front of your apartment complex and climbed out of the car, feeling like you were made of lead. You stood there for a moment, leaning against your car, waiting for the feeling of your body to return to normal. When it finally did, you headed inside and took a quick shower before crawling into bed, not even bothering with any dinner.

Your last thought was how Gideon Graves had looked when he realized you had puked on him. You wondered if he was okay. You tried not to think about it, but his expression kept coming back to mind, over and over. He'd looked like he'd been about to explode.

Again, understandably so. But even though you'd done your best to forget it, the memory just wouldn't leave your mind.

The incident became a week’s memory, but you still couldn't stop thinking about him, about his face. About the fact that you lost your job over something so stupid.

It was another week before you saw Gideon again. Honestly, you weren’t expecting it.

Your doorbell rang, and you figured it was the pizza guy since it was just after five o'clock, and you had ordered some dinner. But when you went to the door, there was no pizza guy. Instead, there was Gideon Graves leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at you.

You glanced at him for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest, your cheeks burning, and then looked back down at your feet.

"I'm sorry," you said.

"Don’t apologize. I don’t want your apologies.” He looked around, glancing at your apartment. "Are you going to let me in, or are you just going to keep standing there until you decide to ruin my suit again?"

You blinked, looking back at his face, but his expression hadn't changed.

You moved aside, letting him in. He walked past you and stood in your living room. His eyes darted around, and you could tell he was taking it all in. You had a tiny apartment, but it was nice; you'd worked hard to make it so. You had a nice couch, a few bookshelves, a TV, and a small table and chairs in the kitchen area.

"Well?" He said, turning back to look at you.

"I- What?” You asked, not knowing what to say.

"I’ve called you. No responses. I came to your apartment last week. No answer. And now that I'm here, you're standing there, looking like an idiot when I expected a fully functioning human being."

You blinked a few times, still not entirely sure what was going on. You cleared your throat.

"What do you want?"

“What do I want?” He scoffed. His face twisted into a look of disgust, his eyes narrowing at you, and his upper lip curling just the tiniest bit as though he smelled something rotten. "You ruined my suit, and then you left. You don't answer your phone when I call. Did your uncultured brain forget about the job you practically begged me for? I told you to impress me, but if you can't even be bothered to show up, I have no interest in continuing your employment."

You frowned, your jaw dropping open.

"Wait, I’m not already fired?”

His eyes snapped up to your face, his brow furrowing. His lip twitched as he fought to hold back whatever he wanted to say to you. The long pause had your mind shifting attention to him. The way he looked. The way he smelled. You took a small step forward.

"I... I thought-"

He was wearing a suit, like usual, but instead of the white suit with the red shirt, he wore a dark gray suit with a light blue shirt. The shirt wasn't buttoned all the way. He hadn't worn a tie, but he usually always had one, so you were a little shocked when you saw that he didn't have one.

And his hair. His hair wasn't slicked back the way it usually was. Instead, it was loose. It's not quite messy, but it's not perfect either.

"You thought you'd been fired?" he said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You nodded.

He sighed and then shook his head. His hands made their way to his glasses, and you realized that his eyes had been fixed on the ground this whole time. He was staring at the floor like he couldn't even look at you.

"I would never fire someone for… puking on me. I’m not that cruel," he muttered. He turned his eyes on you, his fingers adjusting the frames of his glasses. "No. You're still employed here. I simply came to inform you that I'm willing to overlook this week, but the next one that you miss, you're fired."

"Oh," you said. “I- Thank you."

"Don't thank me."

He was turning to leave, and you had to wonder why he had come here in the first place.

"Gideon?"

He paused, his back still to you.

"What did you think I was doing?"

You could see him stiffen, and you had no doubt that he was clenching his jaw. But after a moment, he turned back to look at you, his eyes meeting yours, and you noticed that he had stopped chewing his gum.

"If I had to guess," he said, his tone sharp, "I would have assumed that you were either sleeping or still sick. I told you I would have you fired if you were too sick to work. The fact that you didn't even bother to respond to my calls and messages was more than enough for me to assume the latter."

“But you didn’t fire me."

He narrowed his eyes. "If you don't feel well enough, I suggest you stay home. I don't want to deal with your incompetence right now."

He started to leave again.

"Wait!" You called after him.

He stopped again and looked back over his shoulder at you. His expression was dark and foreboding.

"Do you... Do you need anything?"

"Need? What could you possibly-"

You interrupted him, cutting him off before he could say anything rude or condescending.

"I'm sorry I puked on you. I really am. If I had the money for another suit, I would replace it, but I… don't have that kind of money."

"It’s not ruined. I shipped it to be dry cleaned." He sighed, rolling his eyes. "I don’t want or need your apologies, nor do I need your money. It's not worth a thousand dollars."

"Well, what do you need?"

He was silent, turning his eyes on the floor again, his fingers fussing with his glasses again. His brow was furrowed, and you could see that he was struggling with something.

"Gideon?"

"Stop saying my name like that," he snapped.

He turned around and looked at you again. You blinked in confusion, and he sighed, walking back towards you until he was standing in front of you.

You've forgotten, honestly, how short he was. You were used to thinking of him as this giant of a man. When he walked into a room, his presence made him seem larger than life. But now, you were able to see that he was really a bit shorter than you were. He was a bit on the skinny side, too, not muscular or anything like that. But he still had presence, even when he was being quiet when he was simply standing there looking at you, his lips pressed into a tight line.

"Why?"

You blinked again.

"Why what?"

He rolled his eyes, and his expression softened for a moment, just for a moment, before he got angry again.

"You're not supposed to sound so concerned about me. It's insulting. I'm your boss. I shouldn't need anything from you. That's why."

"It’s just a favor… If it will keep you from firing me, I'll do it," you said.

“Just show me you're not incompetent," he snapped, "that you can do your job without having a meltdown over it."

"Okay."

"And quit making me repeat myself. Just show me. I want you to show me that you're going to be an asset to this company."

"I will."

His lips pressed into a thin line, and he was silent for a moment, his eyes searching your face. He sighed again, his shoulders relaxing as he did so.

"I need-"

"Yeah?"

His eyes narrowed.

"Are you going to interrupt me every time I tell you something?"

"Yes," you said.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but he didn't yell at you. Gideon just sighed, looking tired all of a sudden, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"I need you to come in tomorrow. I have some… matters I need to attend to, so you need to handle the rest of the work."

"Okay. Can I ask what’s going on?"

His eyes narrowed again, his lips pursing, and you felt like you might have pushed too far, but you were determined to be better.

"Just show up tomorrow," he said, his voice a bit softer. He sounded less angry.

He turned again and headed back for your front door.

"Gideon?"

"What?" He asked, not looking at you as he turned around, his hand reaching for the knob.

"Thanks… for not firing me."

He looked up at you, meeting your eyes, and you were surprised to see that he was smiling again, albeit a tiny little smile, but he was smiling.

"Don't thank me; just get it together," he said, and he pulled open your door and left, shutting it behind him.

And you were left there, staring at your front door, wondering how the hell you were going to be able to do the work that he was going to give you and where exactly that damn pizza was.