#literally why was my coworker being so shitty

[joyridingmp3]

oh summertime we're really in it now

[baekuras]

today on my off day: my boss wrote me (politely mind you) during the ONE time i took a nap around 6pm it is now almost 10pm

welP thats for tomorrow then

[noroi-amaraciune]

Thank fuck I was sick yesterday at the bar and went home early because my coworker this morning in shift told me the friend of another coworker that came by was saying some transphobic shit about his flatmate and I swear to fuck I would've puked on him

[sanguineterrain]

holiday spirit | jason todd

Summary: Stuck at a shitty office party for your shitty job on Christmas Eve Eve, you’re at your wit’s end. The last thing you expect is to play vigilante for a night with the Red Hood.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings/tags: panic attacks, reader has anxiety, creepy coworkers, office party shenanigans, canon-typical violence, jason being both a menace and a sweetheart, attempts at humor, fake relationship, silliness!

the divider

You’re grateful for a reason to escape. Someone announces that the lights on the obnoxious eleven-foot Christmas tree are burned out and you’re already on the elevator, volunteering to find spare lights. 

You hate these office parties. They’re just a way to play politics, show off fiancés, and reaffirm cliques. You wanted to skip it all together. But Mr. Emerson, your boss, had insisted that attending tonight’s party was mandatory.

Alma had told you about a hundred times to skip tonight, but Alma’s worked here since the Reagan administration and has too much pull to be fired. You, conversely, have been here eight months, and if you get fired, your next job is going to be as a henchman for a B-list Gotham villain. 

Being painfully ordinary and anxious is a toxic mix. Your doctor still thinks all your worrying is because of your menstrual cycle. He doesn’t believe in work-related stress.

So anyway. You’re just trying to get through tonight. And find some tree lights that work. 

You unlock the spare office where all the holiday junk is stored and turn on the light. 

The motherfucking Red Hood looks at you, one leg dangling outside of the window and one leg inside the office. He unclicks his harness. 

"Oh my God,” you say, hand frozen on the light switch.

Red Hood pulls his leg in from the window and steps into the office. He puts the harness in a duffel bag and roughly zips it, then tosses it unceremoniously onto the floor. 

"Oh my God.”

He glances at you, helmet eyes glowing. "No God here, just me.”

"Oh my God," you say again, near hysterics. "Oh my God, Red Hood."

"Always nice to meet a fan," he says irritably, brushing snow off of his jacket, flashing his holsters. Oh, fuck. That's a lot of guns.

"What, um—" You close your eyes, lick your lips, try to find your sanity. "To what do I—why—are you gonna kill me?”

"The fuck? You think I'd sneak into an office and kill someone in cold blood? What kinda operation you think I'm running?"

Your mouth opens and closes in horror. "Wh–I... I don't—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Hood."

"Please, Mr. Hood was my father."

He laughs. You taste bile in your throat. 

Hood sobers. "Damn. Tough crowd. Look, sorry to freak you out, but I got shit to do. If you'll just point me to Hershel Emerson's office, I'll be on my merry way."

"That's m-my boss. Are you gonna kill him?" You can’t handle murder tonight. You’ll have a breakdown for sure. 

"Literally, what did I just say?" Hood throws his hands up. "Not one minute ago. I'm not killing anyone!"

"Yet?" you ask weakly, mind inundated with too many mob movies to watch your manners. You know what the Red Hood is all about. Everyone does. 

"No. I'm not killing Emerson. But he is a bad dude, so I gotta take care of business. Actually, I should kill him. He deserves it."

You squeak in horror. He raises a hand.

"But I'm not!" he says gruffly. "Respectfully, get a grip. You live in Gotham."

You swallow. "What're you gonna do to my boss if not kill him?"

Hood shrugs. "Eh, maybe scare him a bit. Mostly get intel to take him down. He's currently sitting on five million dollars of stolen life savings from clients."

You blink. "What?"

"Yup. What I really wanna know is which of his employees are in on it. He didn't do this alone."

Hood takes out a small roll-up pouch of what looks like lockpicking tools. You release your sweaty death grip on the doorknob, causing it to squeak. Hood doesn't look up.

five million dollars is ringing in your head. That happened here. Where you work. Your boss is even scummier than you thought.

“Is that a lockpicking kit?” you ask.

“Yup. Good eye.”

"This seems... illegal.”

"Well, I won't lie to you, most of what I do is. You won't be implicated though.”

He looks at you. You flinch. Even with the lights on, the Red Hood is scary as shit. 

"Yeah..." he says, shaking his head. "You wouldn’t do well in prison. I can tell."

Your chest hurts. "I don't think anyone does well in prison," you say, eyebrows scrunching. "Have... you been to prison?"

"Only to break out a friend. You ask a lot of questions."

"Sorry. Um, Mr. Red Hood—"

"Ah-ah. Call me Red. Or Hood. No Mister-ing."

"Okay.” You lick your lips, hoping he doesn't go back on his temporary no-kill policy. “Hood, do you think you could come later? After the Christmas party?”

He tilts his head at you. You keep talking. 

“Not that I don't admire what you're doing! Because I think taking down my boss for stealing money is great, eat the rich and all that, but, um, I came up here to get lights to replace the ones that burned out downstairs because that's a normal thing that happens and now you're here, at my job, and I'm freaking out. Oh God, oh my God—”

You grab the wall for stability, feeling like you've been rocking on a boat for hours. Sweat beads on your forehead. This time, you really do feel like you’ll throw up. Throwing up in front of the Red Hood would be humiliating. 

“Look, I got shit to do, okay? I'm sorry you're freaking out but your boss is gonna cash out in a few days and then I lose him and that five million. It's now or never."

You should've just stayed home and baked cookies. Fuck being social! This is what happens when you're social: you meet morally gray vigilantes who force you to be complicit with their crimes.

Your cheeks feel wet. Are you crying? Maybe it’s sweat. 

Hood points to the hallway. "Is there a camera outside?"

"Y-yeah.” Your voice is weak. “I think I’m having a heart attack. Can you call security on your way out?"

“Does your left arm hurt?”

“No, but—”

“Are your limbs stiffening?”

“No, but—”

“You’re not having a heart attack. Your speech is fine.”

Hood takes out a few more things from the duffel, then kicks it under a desk with his foot. You wheeze and grab onto the doorknob again. 

It’s quiet for a second. Then— 

“Shit. You're having a panic attack,” Hood says.

"Mm, probably," you say, hunched over like an armadillo. Fuck your stupid doctor. 

There's silence as you wheeze quietly. Then something small hits your head. You flinch and squeal.

"You don't need to throw things at me!" you say, beyond defeated, near tears.

"No, I wasn't—sorry. It's a Warhead. I have one when I'm feeling… not my best. They're s’posed to help occupy your other senses so the panic disappears."

You stare at the candy, confused and suspicious at once. "Is it spiked?"

"Again, what sorta operation do you think I'm running? It's not drugs. Look." Hood unwraps a Warhead and sticks it in his mouth underneath his helmet. You hear him suck on it. "Eesh, that's sour. Okay? No drugs."

So you take the candy from the floor, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. The sour taste immediately overwhelms you. It's like your brain resets. You pant through the sour.

"Ough," you say, face scrunching from the taste.

"Yeah, right? Life changing hack."

You suck on the candy desperately and close your eyes, trying to find your breath. 

“It’s okay,” Hood says, stilted and awkward. “Just, uh, focus on your breathing. Exhale longer than you inhale. Breathe through your nose.”

It takes another few minutes, but the feeling passes. Your chest lightens. It’s the quickest you’ve ever recovered from a panic attack. 

“I was just kidding about the prison thing,” Hood says. “You’re not gonna go to jail ‘cause of this, I promise.”

Yeah, but what if you lose your job?

You spit the Warhead into a trash can and smack your tongue a bit. “Are you sure you can’t come back tomorrow night?”

“No can do,” Hood says. “Your boss will be gone by then.”

“It's just that I'm really bad with keeping secrets and according to Google, that's how ulcers form and I really can't afford any sick days off, so—"

You yelp as the door suddenly swings open, hitting your shoulder. You spin around.

"Hey," Bill says, squinting at you. "Where have you been?”

"No!" you yell, and turn off the light. 

Bill stares at you, illuminated by the hallway light. “Uh…”

You clear your throat. "Ahem. I'm fine. It's just taking me a moment to sift through all these decorations. Please return to the party.”

You hate Bill. He’s a sleaze and doesn’t do any work. More than once, he’s trapped you by the water cooler in a conversation about his “smokin’” imaginary lawyer girlfriend.

“If you wanted me to come help you, you could've just said so," he says, reaching for the light, way too close. You don’t like his tone either.

"No!" you yell, blocking the light switch with your hands.

"What the hell? Why not?"

"Because—"

There's a creak from the back. You wince. 

Bill immediately whips his head toward the sound. "Is someone here? Hello?"

He reaches for the light. Again, you block him, swatting his hands away.

"Would you stop—is someone here?"

"My boyfriend!" you blurt.

Bill stops, looking at you. "Your boyfriend? You've never mentioned a boyfriend."

"Well, I have one and he's here."

"Okay. Why can't I turn on the light and see him?"

"Because he's... um..."

You spot the red Santa suit out of the corner of your eye. 

Oh, this is a terrible idea.

"He's changing! He's our Santa for the party. Surprise!" You make weak jazz hands.

Bill looks into the dark where you're pretty sure Hood is hiding. You hope, anyway. Otherwise Bill is going to tell everyone that you're making up boyfriends. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," comes Hood's unmodulated, deadpan reply, and you jump. "Don't turn on the light. I'm naked."

"Oh..." Bill looks queasy for a moment. "Uh—" He looks at you and suddenly grins. "Oh, I get it. You two were having fun before going to the party, huh? Didn't know you were such a wildcat."

"That’s disgusting,” you say. “I would never do that in the office.”

Bill wiggles his eyebrows. "Me-ow. Does the Santa thing turn you on?"

"I'm right here, Bill, and naked or not, I'll kick your ass," Hood says.

Bill pales and quickly backs out of the room. "Right. Sorry. Uh, carry on."

He closes the door. You push your back against it and exhale, heart racing.

"Bill is a shithead," Hood says. 

“How… do you know his name?”

“Employee background check,” Hood says mildly. 

"Oh… yeah, he's been written up a bunch of times for inappropriate behavior, but he's close with Emerson, so he never gets fired."

"Want me to kill him for you? Free of charge."

"What? No! Hood—"

"Oh, relax. I was kidding."

"Uh-huh." You turn on the light. Hood has his helmet on, and his voice is modulated again. "What're we gonna do?"

"Well, I'm gonna go make sure Hershel doesn’t fuck off to Bermuda. The lights you wanted are here, by the way."

Hood tosses you a box of multi-colored tree lights. Then he walks toward you. You plaster yourself across the door.

"Wait! You can't leave. I said that my boyfriend is going to be Santa. Bill will tell everyone. They’ll expect you.”

"I appreciate your quick thinking, but that's a hard pass,” Hood says.

"You can't leave now! Bill's gonna tell everyone I'm a liar and they'll think I was up to something worse in here, like snorting coke."

"I mean this gently: I think you should look into anti-anxiety meds. My brother swears by Xanax.”

“My doctor won’t prescribe it to me,” you say glumly. “He thinks my anxiety is made up.”

“Huh. Want me to kill him? I know a better doctor.”

"Well…” You hesitate, then shake your head. “No! No. Hood, please. They’re all gonna expect a Santa. And when I don’t show up with Santa, they’ll remember that I didn’t participate in White Elephant or any of that other office nonsense that I don’t want to waste my money on. I need this job!”

“They’re not gonna fire you for not doing White Elephant,” Hood says. 

“You don’t know them! It’s a popularity contest.”

But Hood is indeed disinterested in the fact that you'll be the office pariah. Probably because he’s never worked in an office. 

Instead, he ushers you aside without a struggle. Then he turns the doorknob.

"Wait! Wait, listen. If you dress as Santa, you'll have access to the party and offices. You won't have to sneak around. And people get really drunk at these. They'll talk. You can figure out who's helping Emerson steal money."

His hand pauses. He looks at you. You look back, wringing your hands.

"You're pretty crafty," he says. 

"...Thanks?”

Hood releases the doorknob. "Alright, fine. I'll do the Santa shtick.”

“You will?”

He tilts his head. “Should I not?”

“No! No, you should. It’ll be a good disguise.”

He hums. “Sure. But we're in this together now, got it? You blow my cover and we both go down."

"Y-yeah, got it."

Hood heaves a gusty sigh. "Next time, I'm sending Roy in to do this shit."

"Who's Roy?"

"Ah." He holds up a finger. "Too many questions."

He makes a beeline for the Santa costume and then looks at you expectantly.

"Yo. Boyfriend or not, you're not watching me change. Guard the door, Mrs. Claus."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

You turn off the light and go into the hall, shutting the door behind you. It's empty, luckily. You rap your fingers on the box of lights, leg jiggling. 

This is insane. You should just tell Hood you can't do this and let him figure out his own plan.

But then... this would make it easier to find Emerson's crime partner. And you're really sick of Bill being a jerk. You don’t want to be called a liar, or get iced out for the rest of your time here because you didn’t bring Santa. Maybe having Hood be your Santa-boyfriend would make people leave you alone. Which is a crazy reason to stick to this plan, but still. You're trying to find the bright side.

And all those people that Emerson stole from... surely, you have a responsibility to help get their money back and bring him to justice, don't you?

The door swings open. You turn around.

“You wear a mask under your helmet?” 

“As a precaution.” He sounds defensive. “Lots of people in my profession do it.” 

You doubt that. “Don’t you think it’ll be weird if Santa has a mask on?” 

He hesitates, evidently debating between protecting his identity and arousing suspicion.

“Fine.” He carefully peels off the mask and tucks it into his pocket. The surrounding skin is slightly pink from irritation. His nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles. 

And wow. The Red Hood has beautiful eyes. So vibrant and clear, like seafoam. And young! How old is he, anyway? He doesn’t look much older than you, if at all. 

His eyes are framed by thick, dark lashes, and it makes sense, Hood being a brunet.

“What?” he snaps, glaring.

���Nice eyes,” you blurt.

His brows furrow. You remember the guns.

“Um, anyway. Should we go?” you squeak out, backing away.

Hood huffs through the beard. It flutters. "We need to have some ground rules."

"Okay."

"First, you should know that I will shoot if there's a physical threat at this party. Two, you're gonna call me Todd at the party. Three, if you try to tell anyone that I'm Red Hood or that I'm taking down Emerson, I will make your life hell. And if you're his partner, you'd better tell me now or I'm gonna be a lot less jolly."

"I'm not!" you say. "I would never do that. And I won't tell anyone you're Red Hood."

"Good. Let's go. Keep your ears open for hints about Emerson's partner."

He takes off in long strides. You hurry to keep up. The Santa costume doesn't slow him down.

"So how did you find out that Emerson's stealing?" you ask.

"Got a tip. You really didn't know he was stealing?"

“I don’t have access to the finances. I work in user interface. Website design.”

"Yeah? That's pretty cool. I got a brother who's into that stuff," Hood says.

"The same one who takes Xanax?”

“Would you believe it?”

You try to picture Red Hood with a regular family. With a brother or a sister or a father. It's hard to imagine.

“How come you don’t take anti-anxiety medication?” you ask. 

“I have Pit Madness Syndrome, and it has a weird chemical reaction with that stuff.”

“Oh.” Subject change. Quickly! "Do you celebrate Christmas?" 

"Not really. I'm not a believer or celebrator of much. You can see what my plans are two days before Christmas."

"Your family doesn't celebrate?"

Hood just grunts, eyes suddenly stormy. You take the hint and stop talking.

The room where the party is isn't particularly special. It's big enough to fit about a hundred people. For all the money the company makes, you'd thought that they could afford to splurge a little and rent an actual hall. Now you know what the profits have been going toward. But the decorations are decently lavish.

"Oh, wait." Hood leans in to speak in your ear. Lightning shoots down your spine. "I don't know your name."

You give it. He repeats it, and you shiver, like your boyfriend just said your name.

"'Kay. Stay in this room. We don't know how much Emerson or his partner knows, but assume they’re willing to do anything to get away with the money."

You nod. “Got it.”

“Hey, it’s Santa!” Bill shouts from across the room. “He made it!”

You smile tightly. “As promised.”

A few people wave. Others cheer. 

“These people really like Christmas, huh?” Hood asks.

“You have no idea,” you say, hyperaware of his hand brushing your back.

“Don’t think I got your name, man,” Bill says as he approaches. He sticks a hand out. “Bill.”

“Todd,” Hood says, taking his hand and shaking. Bill winces at the handshake. You hide a smile.

“Ah, Todd. Right.” Bill looks at you, trying to subtly soothe his hand. “You’ve never mentioned him.”

You shrug. “Never came up.”

“I’m pretty private,” Hood says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “But we’re very much in love. Ain’t that right, baby?”

“Th-that’s right… honey,” you say, face going hot.

“So what do you do for work?” Bill asks. “My girlfriend’s a lawyer.”

You roll your eyes. Hood snorts.

“There’s no way you’re dating anyone. You look like you got dressed in the dark, Billy.”

You cough your laugh into your arm. Bill’s eye twitches.

“Enjoy the party,” he says icily. He glares at you, then stomps away.

“That was amazing, but I think Bill might retaliate,” you say. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Hood says. “I’ll take care of it.”

You look at him with big eyes. “Hood—”

“Not like that. Just… it’ll be handled. Okay?”

You nod. Maybe it’s insane, but you trust him. “Okay. Want some punch?”

Hood hums. “No alcohol. Thanks.”

You go to the punch bowl, a little relieved to escape Hood’s piercing ocean-eyed stare. He’s intense. Whoever dates him for real is in for a ride. 

Then again, you can’t imagine Hood meeting someone for coffee or dinner. You giggle at the image of him showing up with his guns and helmet. 

“Hey, IT.” A woman in a white sweater you’ve seen maybe once waves at you. “Cool idea, bringing a Santa.”

“Yeah, Emerson’s too cheap to,” the man next to her says. They laugh.

You smile. “Glad you like it.”

You serve yourself two cups of the alcohol-free punch. Then you turn. 

Your smile falls. Across the room is Hood and Tanya Donaldson, resident shit-stirrer. She’s trying to cozy up to him. You sigh and walk over, bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” Hood says, practically dragging you into his side. He takes a cup of punch. “Just met Tanya.”

You can guess exactly how he feels about that.

"Oh, is he your boyfriend?" Tanya asks, eyeing Hood like he's a slab of steak. “I had no idea!”

"Uh-huh," you say. "This is Todd."

She wiggles her fingers, grinning. “So how often do you go to the gym, Todd?” She rests a hand on Hood's arm. "I didn't know Santa was so big and broad."

Your gaze drifts to where you're pretty sure Hood has a gun strapped to his ankle, and the temptation does appear, you won't deny.

But you need this job and it's going to be really hard to explain why Santa's armed and dangerous, so you just grit your teeth. Tanya's the worst for this kind of behavior and she doesn't respect you, so bringing your hunky boyfriend is like dangling a bunch of carrots in her face. 

And it’s not like Todd is actually your boyfriend. 

"Are you flirting with me in front of my girlfriend?" Hood asks, prying her hand off of his arm.

"Flirting?" She claps a hand over her mouth, the movement slightly delayed from all the wine. "No, oh my God! I was just saying—"

"That's really pathetic," Hood says. "Don't do that."

He walks away and you follow, leaving a wobbly Tanya on her own. You smile to yourself.

"Thank you for that," you say.

Hood gives you a thumbs up. "I can plant evidence on her and get her fired if you want."

"No, I don't want to feel damned for eternity. Thanks anyway."

"You have a lot of assholes at your job," Hood says. "But you're not one. I admire that.”

You sigh. "They're not all bad. Alma is cool. She keeps me from quitting.”

"And where is she?"

"At home. She's a sixty-two year old accountant who doesn't care about these parties. Her hip aches when it's cold."

"Mm. Maybe you should follow her lead," Hood says.

"But then who would help you with your spycraft, Hood?"

He allows himself a tiny laugh at that. You wonder how often he laughs. If ever.

“Well, suffering Tanya wasn’t in vain. She said this whole party cost twenty grand.”

“So?”

He gestures grandly. “Does this look like it cost twenty grand to put this together?” 

It's true. The alcohol is the most expensive thing here. No food, except for some people that participated in the potluck, but you don't trust anybody's food here. The decorations are old. Not to mention the Red Hood as your Santa. Your boss might have spared a thousand for tonight. No more. 

“So where did all that money go?” you ask. 

Hood snaps his fingers. “Bingo.” 

“That is so shitty. I got a chocolate-covered pretzel as my Christmas bonus,” you say. 

“A bag of ‘em?” He shakes his head. “Pretty cheap.”

“Ha, no. No, I got one big pretzel. In a box. The box cost more than the pretzel, I think.”

His eyes widen. “Jesus. Even I give more than that to my guys.”

“Got any openings?” you ask, half-joking. 

Hood snorts. “Don't think you'd like what we do. Why d’you stay?” 

You shrug. “Nowhere else to go. I have to eat somehow.” 

“Crappy boss, crappy coworkers, no Christmas bonus. Hell, I feel sorry for ya.”

The Red Hood feels sorry for you. Perhaps you've reached a new low. 

He drinks the punch and coughs. “Ahem, wow. Did you make the punch?”

“No, some people mixed it here.”

“Oh, then I'll be honest. Tastes like a flavor that's not found in nature.” He throws his cup away. You trust him and set your still-full cup on a table.

“I won't even mention the potluck,” you say. 

“Yeesh. Can't eat at everyone's house.” 

“That's what I say!” 

He winks at you. You look away, flustered. 

The crazy thing is, you could get used to this. Well, not specifically Red Hood, but having a boyfriend to bring to these functions, who’ll warn you against gross punch and defend you against Tanya. 

And Hood is surprisingly good at this. If you forget the past hour, you can almost pretend that this is just another office party that you happen to be spending with your new boyfriend. 

"Hey, look! It's Santa! Dude, check me out with Santa!"

One of the finance guys who's very drunk—you want to say that his name is Matt—bounds up to you and Hood. Hood tenses, reaching for his hip (gun!) and you touch his elbow, reminding him to relax. He drops his arm. 

Matt reeks of alcohol, the front of his shirt stained with bourbon. He laughs, forehead shiny with sweat.

"Santaaa, hey, Saint Nick, take a pic with me, man!"

Matt throws his arms around Hood. Hood does not like that and shoves him off accordingly. But Matt doesn't seem to notice and holds up his phone, camera facing front. Hood slaps the phone out of his hand.

"No pictures," he says.

You wince. The guy stares and blinks, taking three to five business days to process what just happened.

"What the fuck, man? That was my phone!"

"Sorry. I'm drunk." Hood sighs like he's physically in pain, then leans back and makes drinking motions with his fingers. "Fuckin' wasted! Did you try those rum shots? Lit, dude!"

The guy cheers up, forgetting all about the phone. "Oh, yeah, for sure! I'm gonna go get one right now! Thanks, Santa!"

"You do that!" Hood says cheerily.

As soon as the guy leaves, Hood returns to his resting scary face.

"Wow," you say.

"I know. I threw up in my mouth a little."

You laugh. Hood grins. Then it fades.

"Damn it. We're getting no closer to finding Emerson's partner. I should just interrogate Emerson until he tells me."

Interrogate makes you feel woozy. You're pretty sure you know what Hood's idea of an interrogation is.

"Wait! We just need to lure them out. If they think their money might be in jeopardy, they'll sneak out of the party to go check on it, right?" you ask.

"Potentially, yes. But how do we lure 'em?"

"There's an alert if someone withdraws more than ten thousand dollars from the company. But I don't have access to the accounts," you say.

Hood smiles slowly. "You don't need it. Remember I mentioned my computer whiz brother?"

"Yeah…” You grimace. “This sounds illegal again.”

"Hell yeah it is. He owes me a favor too. Lemme call him."

You two go off to the side while Hood dials.

"Yeah?" comes a voice on the other end. He doesn’t sound at all like Hood, more like a one percenter from the Diamond District. This is Hood’s brother?

"Aliases only. I need you to withdraw fifty grand from Emerson Corp,” Hood says. 

"Why?”

“‘Cause you owe me a favor. Just do it.”

“Zombie breath.”

“Shortass,” Hood says, voice taking on a distinct older brother tone. 

“You’re such an asshole,” the voice says. He yawns. “B’s wondering if you’re coming tomorrow.”

“I’d rather die again,” Hood says. “And you can tell him I said that.”

“The broody emo bullshit is getting old, dude,” the voice says.

You giggle. Hood looks at you sharply. You press your lips together, properly chastened. Sorry, you mouth.

"Who's that?" the voice asks.

"No one," Hood says. "Did you do it?"

"Chill out. I'm getting past their firewall. So who is that?”

“It’s the TV,” Hood says.

“No, it’s not. That was a lady's laugh, IRL. And you wouldn’t lie if it was someone we know…”

“Mind your damn—”

“I’m helping him with a case,” you blurt. 

Hood throws his hand up, glaring at you. It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a solid ten seconds. Then…

“Holy shit,” Hood’s brother says. “You do have a girlfriend. Wait. Hold on. This is wild. You don’t even have a social security number.”

“I do not have a girlfriend!” Hood snaps, drawing the attention of some coworkers. You nudge him. He exhales through his nose.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, you little fucker,” he says, quieter. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Can I ask your girlfriend a question? Respectfully, what were you thinking? You can do so much b—”

“Text me when it’s done,” Hood growls and hangs up.

You look at each other for a moment. 

“You didn't hear any of that,” Hood says. “Got it?”

“Got it.” 

“Good. Let's see who gets scared. He should do it right about…” 

His phone beeps. You look around the room. 

Soon, your culprit reveals himself. Matt!

Holy shit. 

"He didn't want a picture," Hood says slowly. "He was frisking me! Motherfucker."

"But isn't he drunk?" you ask.

"No." Hood sighs in disgust. "How did I miss that? Br—someone I know does that all the time, spilling alcohol on himself so he smells like he's been drinking. God. Oldest trick in the book!"

"Do you think he knows you're the Red Hood?"

"No. But he might suspect something. Let's go.” 

You follow Matt out of the party. He's walking fast. Yeah. Definitely your guy. 

Down the hallway, Matt turns around and makes direct eye contact with you. You panic. 

“Hood!” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says. “Follow my lead.” 

Loudly, he laughs and puts an arm around your waist. “C’mon, baby, no one’ll know.”

And then you're being herded into a janitor’s closet. 

You stumble in, confused and reeling from how easily Hood plays the affectionate boyfriend role. He follows you in, shuts the door, and pulls the chain dangling from the ceiling. The single light bulb turns on. 

You take care to not knock over any cleaning supplies. You don't see the mop on the floor, however, and you trip backwards on the handle. 

Hood's reaction time is impeccable. He jerks forward to catch you, tugging you back on your feet with his hands on your arms. 

“Y’alright?” he asks. 

“Uh-huh,” you say, mildly mortified. “Thanks.”

He lets go. You shift on your feet. 

“How long are we gonna stay here?” you ask. 

Hood checks his phone. “Well, he should've moved on by now. Let's—”

The doorknob jiggles. You look at Hood in fear. His expression is similar. 

“Pretend!” you whisper, and that's all he needs to understand and move. 

You're expecting your arms around Hood, maybe exaggeratedly feeling him up. You are not expecting Hood to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs and press you against the wall. You squeal, arms shooting out to hold onto his neck. Hood's beard ends up in your mouth and you spit it out. 

The door swings open, revealing a very tipsy couple. 

“Oops!” the woman says, grinning. “Sorry. Carry on.”

The guy gives a thumbs-up. “True love.”

You smile awkwardly. Something is pressing into your hip.

“True love,” Hood deadpans. “Rock on.”

As soon as the door closes, you're squirming. 

“What is that?” you hiss. 

“My gun! Oh my God, it's my gun,” Hood says, quickly setting you down. “It's not…”

He trails off and backs away. You stand there, processing what just happened. 

“That wasn’t—”

“I didn’t—”

You both stop. Hood adjusts his beard. 

“You're really strong,” you say, wringing your hands. 

Hood nods. “Sorry about the, uh…”

“Yeah, let's just not talk about this.”

“Yup. Find Matt?” 

“Absolutely.” 

You open the door and peek out. The hallway is empty. Glory be.

“All clear,” you say, and Hood is on your heels as you sneak out. 

“Any ideas on where he'd go?” Hood asks. 

“Matt works in a cubicle like the rest of us. Emerson’s office is on the twelfth floor.” 

“Fine. We'll hit Emerson's office first. More privacy, and maybe they'll both be there. Two birds.”

“Emerson's office is protected by a password lock. He changes it every night,” you say, scurrying to keep up with Hood. 

“That's fine. I got a key right here,” he says, patting his holster.

“Wait! If the lock is tampered with, it sets off an alarm and security will come. You can't shoot it, Hood.”

He stops and sighs. “Why is everything so goddamn complicated? Alright, new plan. I'm gonna get my stuff from where we were and I'll break in the old-fashioned way.” 

Fifteen Minutes Later.

“This seems really unsafe!” you say, watching Hood dangle outside a three story window on a wire. He's attached to a grappling hook but still. Still! 

“Eh, I died once. Didn't stick. Hold the hook.” 

“I am!” As if you'd do anything but. You don't want the Red Hood to become Red Goo. 

Chilly December wind makes your eyes water and your nose cold. Still, you hold on. 

“Almost there!” he says. 

“Hey! What're you doing?” 

You whirl around and close your eyes due to the flashlight shining at them. Even though the lights are on. 

An elderly security guard glares at you. It's a good thing you're not an actual criminal… though after tonight, you're not so sure. 

“Um.” You try to hold onto the hook while hiding it behind your back. “Bird watching?”

The guard turns off the flashlight and tucks it into his belt. He slowly walks to you. 

“If you're doing something illegal, Miss, you're in big trouble.”

Well, this is fantastic. Of course it would be you that gets caught. 

The guard is getting closer. Your grip is sweaty. He peers over your shoulder. You let go of the hook, praying to every spirit out there that Hood is as good as everyone says he is. 

The guard looks around and scratches his head. You shrug, heart in your throat. 

“See?” you say. “Bird watching.”

He frowns at you. “I've got my eye on you.”

“And I commend you for that.” 

“Are you sassing me?” 

Are you? You might be. You've been spending too much time with Hood. 

Hood! You turn and look out the window. You don't see any red goo below, but it's also cold and foggy. Shit. You hurry to the elevators. 

“Okay, happy holidays, bye!”

The elevator doors open. You press twelve and close the door before the guard can consider getting on with you and shooting you a hairy eyeball all the way down. 

You hurry out and run down to Emerson's office. The door has been left ajar, which is good, right?

Bang!

You throw yourself against the wall. Shit. Maybe not. 

Ugh, you told Hood no shooting! Son of a bitch. 

“We're doing this tonight!” That's Emerson's voice. “I don't care if I have to shoot my way out.” 

Shoot? Oh no.

You carefully peek through the crack. Hood is standing with his hands behind his head. His beard has blood in it. Emerson is in front of him, gun to his head. 

Hood catches your eye. He gives you the tiniest head shake. You swallow. 

You can't just leave him there. 

Okay. Think. Emerson's back is to you. You can't see Matt, but you figure he's far enough away to not immediately shoot you. Hopefully. 

Anyway, what's your other option? The feisty relic upstairs? You can't risk any civilians getting hurt. 

Technically you're also a civilian but not tonight. Tonight you might as well be Batman. 

You slowly pull the door open further. You sneak in, then hide behind the secretary's desk.

“Is it done?” Emerson snaps.

That's when you see Matt in the corner on a laptop. 

“It takes time,” Matt says, obviously stressed too. 

“Well, hurry up!” Emerson looks at Hood. “Then we'll dispose of Santa here.”

Hood shrugs. “You can certainly try. Many have. ‘M still here.”

“Lots of bravado for a man in a costume,” Emerson sneers. “What are you, police?”

Hood groans. “As fucking if! I'm not a cop.” 

He hums. “Perhaps not. Otherwise this place would be crawling with them already. But you're alone.”

“How d'you know I'm alone?” Hood asks. 

You're glad he's calm because you're feeling the beginnings of another panic attack. But you can't panic, not now. The adrenaline pulsing through you is the only thing keeping you from going catatonic. 

You have no weapon, no plan. How the hell are you supposed to help Hood?

“You're bluffing,” Emerson says. 

“He has a girlfriend,” Matt says. “Some IT girl. She might come looking for him.”

“Then we'll take care of her too.”

Matt looks uncomfortable but he doesn't say anything. Hood is still cool as a cucumber. 

“She won't look for me. We had a fight. I forgot to buy the candy she likes.”

Candy? Why would—oh!

On the secretary's desk is a glass bowl filled with mini candy canes. You wrap your hands around it. 

“She knows my favorite,” Hood says, locking eyes with you.

You throw the bowl with all your might. Emerson is too slow—Hood grabs the bowl one-handed and swings it, knocking the gun from Emerson's hand. The candy explodes into pieces. Hood swings again, this time into Emerson's head. The bowl cracks. Emerson crumples to the floor. 

“Are you o—”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In a blink, Hood wraps one arm around your waist and yanks you to the floor, covering your body. You curl into him on instinct. 

“I got you, I got you,” he says, patting your shoulder. “You okay?”

You nod, words not coming right now. You squeeze his hand. Hood seems to understand and he scoots you both behind Emerson’s desk. Then he loads his gun and cocks it.

“Stay here,” he says, then fires six shots. 

“Goddamnit!” Matt yells across the room. “This wasn't the plan! You're not supposed to be here!”  

Hood laughs, which is absolutely terrifying. “Don't talk to me about ruined plans, buddy. I've been waiting all night for an excuse to shoot somebody. Please make my night.” 

Matt fires four more shots. 

“Fuck you, cop!” 

“What the fuck? Fuck you more! I'm not a fucking cop!”

“Maybe it's the way you stand,” you say, teeth chattering from anxiety. 

Hood squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “I stand like a cop? Gross. I gotta work on that.” 

“You're somebody!” Matt yells. “You're not just some guy, Todd, don't lie to me. You and that chick from IT are in cahoots.”

You huff. “He knows your name but not mine?”

“I’d take it as a compliment.”

Matt fires again. Hood tucks you behind him. 

“He won’t kill anybody,” he says, with way too much confidence, in your opinion. 

“Oh, is that why he's peacefully shooting at us?”

“He's scared, sure. But he can’t kill. Trust me, I know. Hey, Matt!” 

“What?”

Hood stands up. Your eyes bug out of your head. 

“Hood!” you hiss. “Hood!”

He ignores you, of course. 

“You won’t hurt anyone,” Hood says. He starts walking toward Matt. “You're not a killer, Matt.”

And all this time you thought Hood was sort of sane. Nope. 

“I will shoot you!” Matt warns. 

“Aw. You wouldn't shoot Santy Claus, would you?” 

Matt pulls the trigger. You gasp. It clicks. The magazine is empty. 

Hood closes the distance between them and grabs the gun, then elbows Matt in the face. Matt sprawls onto the floor. 

“Yeah, I don't risk my life on human emotion,” Hood says, loud enough so you can hear. “People can be so unpredictable. I will take a chance on a gun that only fires seven rounds, though. For a guy in finance, you're not very good with numbers, Matty.” 

You sigh in relief, slumping against the desk. After tonight, you're retiring. 

“Y'okay over there?” Hood asks. 

“Yeah.”

It's quiet for a bit. Then Hood returns and offers you a hand to help you stand. You do so on shaky limbs. 

He's got a cut on his eyebrow and a bruise on his cheek. You frown. 

“I'm sorry I let go of the hook. I thought—”

“You let go of the hook?”

You stop. “Um. No?” 

Hood squints at you. “Choosing to forgive you for that.” 

“I knew you were inside the office!”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“I'm not the only one taking risks,” you say. “Matt still fired at you.”

“Eh.” Hood shrugs. “He’s a crap shot. And I counted the rounds. I maintain my point. Factually, he could not shoot me.”

“You could've told me the gun was empty,” you say. 

“I wanted you to think I was cool and brave.” 

You laugh. “I already think that.”

Hood looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to see right down into your soul. Intense. You cross your arms.

“So, um, ready to ditch this party?” you ask. 

“With pleasure.”

“What about them?” you ask, pointing to Matt.

“I have backup arriving soon. Let's get your coat.” 

You get your things while Hood changes back into his usual garb. He meets you at the back exit, the one that leads to an alleyway, Santa suit gone. The party's winding down and most are getting into their cars. You're grateful no one stops to ask where you disappeared to. 

There's police outside, but they're not here for Emerson. It's Bill that's being questioned by Commissioner Gordon. You stop short at the sight. 

“Hood… what did you do?” 

“Hm? Oh! There might have been some discrepancies in Bill's finances and he might have committed fraud to pay off his gambling debts. All circumstantial, though.”

“Please don't tell me you framed my coworker because he's a jerk,” you say. 

“No, but I'm not above that, for the record. I recognized Bill from when I was casing the Iceberg Lounge. That's where he racked up all that debt.”

You nod slowly. “That's how you knew his name.”

“Yup. He was a nobody, so I didn't bother with him. Had I known he was such a menace at work, well…”

You grin. “It's okay. I appreciate it now.” 

Hood nods. The silence is awkward for a few seconds. 

“So—”

“You don't have to keep working here,” he says. “You can leave if you wanna.”

“Hood…”

He puts up a hand. “Hear me out. I have a contact at Wayne Enterprises. I can get you an interview. Hell, I can get you the job.”

“And what would I owe you?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Think of it as a thank you for tonight. You didn't have to help me but you did.”

You open and close your mouth. “I don't… I don't know what to say.”

“Don't gotta say a thing,” Hood says quietly. “If anyone deserves a new year, it's you.”

“Oh.” Your throat feels tight suddenly. “Oh, Hood, that's really—that's nice of you.”

“It's been known to happen. Don't spread it around though.”

“But I don't want the job without interviewing!” you say. “I want to get it on my own.”

Hood nods. “Deal.”

You want to hug him but that seems like too much, even with all you’ve done tonight. So you take out a candy cane instead.

“I salvaged one from the bowl,” you say. “Merry Christmas, Hood.”

He takes it, tucking it into his pocket. “Merry Christmas. Need a ride?”

You shake your head. “I'm fine. See you around?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Stay safe, alright?”

“Oh, I will. Will you?”

He laughs. “No promises.” 

Then you blink and he's gone. You shove your hands into your coat pockets. 

In each pocket, there's a handful of Warheads. You smile.

[elsecrytt]

okay NEW curse technique concept: love conquers all!

your technique straight up alters reality. it will heal you or others, kill or harm people in any specific way, you can travel quickly, produce objects/food/etc. out of nowhere, whatever you want.

however. you can only do it if you genuinely believe it will make your loved one happy. otherwise you are just a regular person.

if you're not in love with someone, you're an ordinary person.

thankfully (?) you're a bleeding heart romantic and you fall in love pretty often! you might be shallow at first but your desire to pursue a relationship and get to know your crush is 100% sincere!

for added comic effect, you do not know what curses are and are unaware of your cursed technique. you just know that you're super capable whenever you're doing it ~for love~

unfortunately, when you fell in love with satoru gojo, he pretty much immediately shot you down.

commitment issues, sorcerer problems, yada yada. he could tell that you were genuine with your feelings, too, and satoru does do hookups but he's not a total asshole.

satoru being LITERALLY the luckiest person ever - six eyes, limitless, ridiculously tall and beautiful, talented students and powerful allies - and he's handed an instant win ticket to life in the form of your undying love and devotion and he just tosses it out LMAOOO.

so you go through your heartbreak phase, grieve for a while, and of course eventually get back on the market.

and you find him! the kindest, most considerate, respectful man alive.

he's a bit of a workaholic, but he's unbelievably polite and sincere, and every bit of understanding you show him is repaid tenfold.

seriously. he was late for a date once because of work, texting ahead twenty minutes and apologizing profusely, showing up with flowers and a thousand "I'm so sorry, my superior at work was a bit unreasonable - he works hard, too, though. I'll plan better in advance!"

when you smile and hug him and accept his apologies easily, you can see him holding back tears, a giant load releases his shoulders.

the more you learn about his work, though, the more you realize it's his only flaw. it's not even his fault!

his superior is just this giant asshole. "he works very hard, he's excellent at his job" your fucking ASS, why should your man have to put in constant overtime to drive his ass around?

apparently he had to drive three hours to pick up some sweets. kikufuku, of all things, from this one specialty store in another prefecture, just for his stupid coworker -

it pisses you off!

so when ichiji arrives for your date one day, nervous, with his unreasonable coworker in tow - well, you're shocked to see that you recognize him.

satoru, of course, immediately gloats that he recognizes ichiji's precious girlfriend - she even asked him out, once, before!

internally, he supposes it's kind of nice that you found someone better suited for commitment. although ichiji really doesn't deserve someone as good-looking as you -

SLAP!

he stares, dumbfounded, his cheek red and stinging. something strange curling in his chest at your vicious glare.

"You're Ichiji's shitty coworker?" You growl, "I'm glad you turned me down. Don't ever bully my man again, or you're dead meat."

holy shit, satoru thinks to himself as you snarl at him, ichiji panicking, trying to hold you back.

dead meat. holy shit, he actually believes you.

-

obviously from there the plan would be enemies to lovers, with the requisite comedy and pining on gojo's part about having let you go the first time.

you have a very strict policy of never EVER pursuing someone who turns you down (you don't know this, but it's actually a condition of your cursed technique). but satoru will find out - that doesn't stop him from pursuing you.

unfortunately, you're also unbelievably prideful, and still very in love with ichiji (who himself is struggling with a sense of inferiority which will eventually tank your relationship).

so gojo gets his ass beat on multiple occasions,,, watching in awe as you do thinks even he can't, and doubly flabbergasted when you insist you're not doing anything particularly weird.

you punch through his infinity? "are you telling me you think you're a wizard with an invisible force field around yourself? seriously?" cursed spirits? "is this a cult?? ichiji is your coworker in a CULT?" his hollow purple doesn't leave a scratch "i mean, was it supposed to?"

god i'm just feeling the comedy these days. i need to make fun of these silly little guys in this silly little manga, i love them so much

[holyprincenerd]

yes yes rigged this cha cha that but please let’s not ignore this right now:

https://www.aftonbladet.se/podcasts/ab/episode/355975 Swedish “eurovision expert” Tobbe Ek (for those of you who aren’t Swedish, this is the same guy who accused Måneskin of doing coke on live tv back in 2021) and his posse of minions decided that it was time to spread some absolutely hateful rhetoric against the people of Finland by calling them shitty, idiotic, telling them they should be ashamed of not voting for Sweden (??? literally what???) etc etc, while also dragging in other contestants like Lord of the Lost and insulting them as a means of questioning why the Finnish public voted for them but not for Sweden. (You know. Because it totally doesn’t make any sense at all that a country known for having the most metal bands per capita in the world would vote for Lord of the Lost. Not at all.) 

As the cherry on top of this xenophobic shit cake, they started to go on about how “There’s no way there were ten contestants who were better than Sweden this year.” (Again. Not only disrespecting the other contestants, but them pretending not to grasp the concept of a country known for preferring heavier music choosing to vote mostly for bands this year... Yeah... Couldn’t be their preferences...)

Again, this man is considered a Eurovision expert here in Sweden, yet this is the type of behaviour he and his coworkers display over a nonissue like the Finnish public not voting for Sweden this year. If there’s something shameful here, it’s this.

To reiterate: These are three grown-ass well past 40-year old people having a genuine meltdown over one (1) singular country not voting for them.

Why are we giving Tobbe Ek (and his irrelevant coworkers) a platform, again?

EDIT:

Hoo boy, there’s more. Because of course there is.

ALRIGHT here’s an article from one of our tabloids using quite suspiciously colonialistic sounding rhetoric about Finland being “the kingdom’s previous eastern half”.

https://www.expressen.se/noje/finska-sveket-mot-sverige-gav-noll-poang-efter-uppmaningen-rosta-taktiskt/

The specific quote in Swedish: “Tv-tittarna i tidigare östra rikshalvan gav nämligen Sverige noll(!) poäng under Eurovisionfinalen på lördagen.”

Translation: “TV viewers in [our] kingdom’s previous eastern half gave namely zero(!) points to Sweden during the Eurovision finale on Saturday.”

Yeah, Johan Bratell (the writer of the article) is technically not wrong about Finland having been a part of Sweden. But why bring this up now? This was so clearly meant as a condescending insult.

The article also talks about a throwaway comment that the Finnish commentator Mikko Silvennoinen made about tactical voting (or more specifically, an anonymous comment he read out loud about tactical voting). From my understanding this was a joke reference to the previous elections which took place recently in Finland and forced a portion of the Finnish public to vote tactically as an attempt to block a far-right party from getting into the parliament. It’s embarrassing how much these people are reaching.

And even if they were voting tactically, so what? Sweden won. Why are we so focused on the public vote of one (1) country, Jesus Christ this is embarrassing.

EDIT 2: WHY THIS MATTERS. A LOT.

For those of you who are not in the know about Swedish politics, these statements are reflecting some far-right political views that have their roots all the way back in the times when Sweden ruled over Finland. In recent memory, our far-right political party Sverigedemokraterna claimed that the Swedish minority group Tornedalians are not Swedish, because they may speak local dialects that blend Finnish into Swedish, or speak the minority language Meänkieli. Coincidentally, Meänkieli just so happens to be a minority language that blends Finnish and Swedish, as it is��mostly spoken by people who live by the Torneå river, i.e. the Finnish-Swedish border. Here’s an article about this controversy (however you may not be able to read it unless you’re subscribed to said newspaper): https://www.dn.se/asikt/orimligt-att-tornedalingar-inte-skulle-vara-svenskar/?fbclid=IwAR33K_UVRhXlJhyPd3gY7GDXN_lotUdrtM1AeL-nRzWE26Tmq5BFE0lIUzw

Sverigedemokraterna also believe that the Swedish minority group of Sweden Finns should essentially cut their ties to their Finnish roots and that they should not be able to be citizens of both Finland and Sweden. https://aip.nu/sverigedemokraterna-och-de-dubbla-medborgarskapen/

This sort of rhetoric is ridiculously common here, and in situations like the ones that have occurred in light of the ESC, they almost never get called out. Because it’s common. Because it’s okay to call Finnish people names and to use colonial rhetoric against all Finns, both those who live in Finland and those who live in Sweden. Because this is “friendly banter.” Mind you, as someone who technically belongs to both of the aforementioned minority groups I’m completely fine with the actually friendly banter and piss taking that we usually partake in, because it is just that. Friendly. But this is not it. This is actually harmful. I have never seen so many Swedish people attacking Finns on social media as I’ve seen these past few days. The usual colonialistic and fennophobic insults have started to rear their ugly heads: People have started to insult the Finnish language (a fennophobic sentiment that goes way back to the days when Finland was under Swedish rule and the Swedish tried to get rid of the language), they have started to insult the way Finns look (goes back to fennophobic rhetoric of Finns essentially not being “white enough”), etcetera. For more information on how the Swedish government treated the Sweden Finns and Tornedalians (the fact that they tried to abolish both the Meänkieli language and the Finnish language from Sweden and have even done skull measurements as an attempt to prove that these minority groups are not equal to Swedes), here’s another article: https://www.svt.se/nyheter/lokalt/norrbotten/regeringen-tillsatter-sanningskommission

For those of you who speak Finnish and are interested in the topic, the book Kansankodin pimeämpi puoli by Tapio Tamminen goes into both issues, with photographic evidence of skull measurement incidents among other things. Meanwhile, the Finnish media is mostly just reporting on the tomfoolery of these “journalists.” Sure, there are a lot of Finns who are acting out as well and spreading hateful rhetoric against Swedes, but the difference here is that one group is punching up, while the other is punching down.

Whether Tobbe Ek, Jenny Ågren, Markus Larsson and Johan Bratell meant to cause this does not matter. They’ve still done it, in the case of the former group, they’ve even dragged other Europeans (and Australians!) into this mess.

They’ve gone ahead and spread fennophobic rhetoric on huge platforms: Sweden’s biggest national tabloids. They should be held accountable for this.

To reiterate: ALL THIS OVER THE FINNISH PUBLIC “NOT VOTING FOR SWEDEN” DURING THE EUROVISION SONG CONTEST OF 2023.

Edit 3: Just in case we need a bit of clarification:

I know this whole post may come across quite negatively. So let me make this clear: There is an issue with the Swedish culture and its normalisation of fennophobia, however, that doesn’t mean every Swede is maliciously fennophobic. It’s literally just so normalised here, that sometimes people don’t even notice when they’re partaking in it, and because of said normalisation, for many these fennophobic and colonialist insults have become a sort of knee jerk reaction to when there’s “actual beef” with Finland. (Which, obviously, is a fucking problem, because look who has to bear the brunt of that.) 

Moreover, many Swedes aren’t even familiar with their shared history with Finland, and the discrimination Finland was put through during the Swedish rule (not to mention the discrimination the Sweden Finns and Tornedalians have had to face and still face). That part of our shared history simply isn’t taught in schools here, so a regular person would have to know to go out and look for the information. Heck, the only reason I’m aware of this is because at the end of the day, despite having been born and raised in Sweden, I am ethnically Finnish, and grew up by the border with very strong ties to the Finnish culture because of it. But less about me, and more about this issue. Most Swedes (and Swedish journalists who have any sort of sense in them and who work for respectable publications) have expressed their dissatisfaction with this years results as well. There’s a reason Cha Cha Cha is charting so well on Swedish Spotify. There’s a reason for why the Swedish jury and the public gave Finland 12 points.

So, Tl;dr:

1. Swedish tabloids are trash.

2. We have an undeniable problem with how normalised fennophobia is here, and it’s absolutely bizarre that this is how it’s getting exposed.

3. Most regular Swedes aren’t happy with this either, and are in fact not Finland’s and the Finnish people’s greatest haters in the world.

4. Tobbe Ek should get fired. At the bare minimun, he and his coworkers should probably issue some sort of apology for spreading this, seeing how it is actually hurting a lot of people.

Anyway, please don’t hate on the Swedes because of this lol, think about what Jere from Vantaa would think about that. 💚

[sandy-the-glader]

Hi!! If it’s okay, can I please request an Adrian Chase x soft and innocent!fem!reader where they are coworkers at Fennel Fields, him being a busboy, and she is a waitress. The two of them have feelings for each other, Adrian just trying to get the confidence to ask her out. A group of guys come in every week are super loud, rude, and also make Y/n (who is taking their order) very uncomfortable, and when Y/n turns down their advances, they say some very mean things and make her cry. Adrian is absolutely FUMING, literally having to hold himself back from going at them right then and there, instead following her to the kitchen try to calm her down (in his own Adrian way), promising to “take care of it” . She 100% thinks he means kicking them out, but the group of men get a “visit” from Vigilante… the group “disappears” without a trace “, never to bother Y/n again.

Adrian softly kissing a very relieved Y/n when the men don’t return to the restaurant, she doesn’t know about Adrian’s Vigilante side nor does she know the fate of the group of men, but Adrian takes it as a compliment nonetheless

The Protector

Character: Adrian Chase x InnocentFem!Reader

Type: Fluff/Comfort, Angst

Length: 2.7k words

Summary: Request above!

Trope: Best friends to lovers, Co-workers to lovers

A/N: I have not done anything for Adrian in a while and I love him so much aaaaaaa! I bent the request ever so slightly. Also, let me know if I should make a part two of this but it’s Adrian’s POV 😉

"God that group is back." I hissed. "How do they always manage to get seated in my section?" Me and Adrian eyed them from the kitchen.

"I don't know but they never tip well either. I think all the tattoo ink got into their brains or something." Adrian glared at the noisy group. I smiled at his joke. He always lightened the mood and I was forever thankful for that.

"God it's twenty minutes until closing why do they always come in here late?" I grumbled folding my arms.

The group was dreadful and I have no idea how they haven't gotten in any section but mine yet. They've been showing up the past 3 weeks on Saturday nights and past close. Me and Adrian had plans ruined because of those guys. I've been working here for 1 year and a half (Adrian for longer) and I've never had a worse group of customers.

Usually, the worst is an old lady who asks for the manager when the food isn't exactly to her liking. Or a group of teenage boys who don't buy anything they just sit there and be as loud as possible.

Sometimes me and Adrian went to see movies together on Fridays or had plans with friends and I loved it. That's what made me look forward to the end of the week but with this lousy group of 40-year-old biker guys trashing the tables and leaving sometimes a zero-dollar tip was starting to have the opposite effect on me.

"You know I can take the table for you. I know they're pretty shitty guys." He looked at me and I shook my head softly. His green eyes dazzling in the heat lamps made me almost take back rejecting the offer. When he looked at me the way he did it made my heart flutter. They were so careful and easy.

"You take over my shifts all the time Adrian. The least I can do is deal with one unpleasant table. I can do it." I looked back at him with determination. Besides he was only a busboy, not a waiter though I'm sure he could do the job just fine.

It was true though. Every time I was sick he took over no questions asked. Sometimes he even encouraged me to call out sick when all I had was a cough. He was my best friend after all but he always went above and beyond with the way he treated me.

Sure my other co-workers were nice like Taylor treated me nicely but never as nice as Adrian. From the get-go, he was kind to me always guiding me to where things were or making small talk with me to help get me though my shifts. He was never afraid to give me a hand in anything I needed.

He looked very unsure of my decision but he didn't protest as I left to deal with said table. Though I could still feel his eyes glued to my back. I pushed open the door and

I strode over there with a sudden burst of confidence. I could do it. Then when It's all over me and Adrian can go back to his apartment and watch movies all night like usual.

As soon as I reached the table that confidence slowly started to melt away.

They were a group of 5, all big-looking, and they were like I said a biker gang. Sometimes I hate my job.

"Hello I'm Y/n I'll be your server today can I get you any drinks to start with?" My hands trembled as they gripped the sides of my apron. Whistles filled the air as the men's eyes wandered across my body. Some even leaned over to get better looks at me.

"Looking good honey!" I laughed nervously trying to be as polite as I could to them.

I felt so incredibly uncomfortable. I felt my cheeks getting hot. I was even embarrassed to be close to them. I cleared my throat trying to get them to reply to the simple task at hand.

"Waters for all of us." What I was sure the group leader spoke out. "Please, baby." He added. His group let out an array of deep chuckles. I felt sweat start to appear on my skin. I smiled and walked off in the back. As soon as my backs were to them my smile vanished off my face.

Oh god, it's barely been 5 minutes with them and I already want to leave. Once I got back there Adrian was still standing in the same spot looking at me with a pleading look.

"Don't look at me with those eyes." Those pleading begging green eyes.

"You can still take my offer you know." He pressed his lips together. "Because you look like you need that help. It's not like a bad look or anything but you look kind of helpless. In a good way." Adrian rambled. I've known him for so long I could decipher any message he gave me.

"It's fine I can handle it," I said firmly. I wasn't going to let them get the better of me. Just seeing and having Adrian here made it better.

He was a complete nerd and I loved having someone like that. I loved hearing him talk about DND and all of his hobbies. Then I got to start doing it out of work too.

We even set up a DND campaign at one point. It was a little confusing at first but playing with him made me understand. The memories of us together made me way more relaxed.

I poured those glasses of water and put them all onto a tray and held it with one hand. I pushed the door open almost spilling them in the process and walked back to the table.

"There she is!" One of them shouted. I placed all of the glasses on the table without a word trying to keep my cool.

I watched some make extremely disgusting gestures. Just 20 more minutes and you can go home. Just 20 more long excruciating minutes.

"She's a beauty isn't she fellas?" The main one asked. I swallowed thickly not excited for their replies. I did not have the energy for this today.

"Oh definitely would talk her home. You single honey?" One of them eyed me.

"Uhm yes, I am I'm just not looking for anything like that right now." I lied trying to get him to understand the message.

"Nah she's lying they're always in the market." My feet wouldn't move. I felt scared. Uncomfortable. Where's Adrian? I shouldn't have taken this table. "Come give me a chance honey!" He begged. Can't this guy take a hint?

"No, thank you I'm sorry." I tried to stay as polite as possible. "What would you guys like to-" I was instantly cut off.

"It's not like her makeup hides much." They laughed. I felt ashamed to be here.

"And she could smile more. Where's our cute smile sweetie?" I couldn't smile to save my life. I would not give them what they wanted. My lips trembled.

"Nah her smile would be ugly too we can't ask for something she doesn't have." The table erupted in laughter.

"Look at her she's a doll. She could get any guy she wanted."

“Maybe she’s a slut. No wonder she's not in the market she just sleeps around!” Barked another.

I looked up to see Adrian cleaning some dishes from a couple tables in front of them.

He was looking at me because he had clearly heard that nasty remark. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked red with anger. He was seething and I could see his hand gripping the rag he was holding tightly.

Then the dam in my eyes broke. Tears started to brim my eyes and I stormed back into the kitchen quickly. As I left I heard them start to laugh louder. I shoved open the outside door and sat on the picnic bench we had out there.

I leaned my head in my hands and let the tears spill over my cheeks. I couldn't think about anything other than their words and how humiliated I felt. I felt like screaming at them but I just couldn't. That wasn't how I was.

Who did they think they were? Coming into our restaurant and treating me like shit for what reason? Do they have nothing better to do with their life?

I heard the door swing open and I tried to cover up my sniffling but it was no use. It slammed shut and I heard quick footsteps trot over to the bench. I already knew it was Adrian so I let him sit next to me. As soon as he put his arm around me it all came rushing back out.

"Hey hey, I'm right here." He whispered softly, I wrapped my arms around his back and in that moment he was all that mattered. I just wanted to have Adrian by my side. He awkwardly patted my back.

"Thank you." I wiped my cheeks which now had mascara smeared down them. "I'm a mess," I complained to him. He didn't say anything he just kept holding me. I knew he could struggle with comforting and with words in general sometimes. "You don't have to stay here you know. I'm already in trouble for abandoning my table i don't need you getting into it too." I frowned.

"Oh no, I'm staying." I snuggled myself into his side. "They don't deserve you. They're dicks who don't know how to treat women and that feels like a crime. They had no right to insult you like that." I nodded trying to listen to his words but I still felt shitty. "And that's like so not cool." He said and finally, a small smile spread across my face. He let out a built-up sigh of relief that I was starting to feel a bit better.

"I know. It still hurts though."

"No matter what those guys say they're so wrong." I looked up at him and he was already glancing at me. "You look so beautiful without makeup. I'm not saying you look bad with makeup on I mean like the complete opposite." I started to grin at his ranting.

"Thank you A. It means a lot." He enjoyed the small nickname. He continued to rub small circles into my back relaxing me.

"But those guys will never bother you again." He said still heated by the situation. "I'll make sure of it and because I really like you okay?" He confessed. "And seeing you hurt like that hurt me." he stared at the ground.

The confession threw me off. I always stressed about him liking me but hearing those words fall from his lips felt bewitching. I pulled away from him and looked at him eye to eye.

"Oh fuck I mean!" His cheeks grew pink. "Like I like having you as a friend not like in like I've been crushing on you since I've laid eyes on you and have been dreaming about you or anything because that would be like..." I leaned closer to him and brushed my thumb against his cheek. His face was warm and soft beneath my hand. "crazy." He whispered finishing his sentence.

"Don't lie to me right now Chase." I frowned. He sighed as he realized he'd been caught.

"Okay yeah, maybe I really like you." His eyes never once left me. "And maybe I have been dreaming about you since I first saw you."

"You better not be joking with me right now. Or I will continue to cry ."

"Okay um do not cry again please I already handled the first time poorly. But I am certainly not kidding." I moved my hand from his cheek to his hand which was much larger than mine.

"You better not be because I like you too." He blinked a few times trying to determine if I was the one joking around this time. He moved a stray piece of hair out of my face and tucked it neatly behind my ear. His eyes flickered down towards my lips and back up to my eyes. Was he really about to kiss me right now?

He swiftly closed the gap between us and captured my lips in a phenomenal kiss. Maybe he wasn't all nerdy after all because damn he knew how to kiss. Sure I have barely kissed anyone my whole life but he made it feel so right. He slowly pulled back to look at my face.

"Was that okay? If it wasn't I can totally like stop. I don't mind at all." I squeezed his hand and hugged him.

"It was perfect. Thank you." For having such a shitty night he made me realize the better. Like how the stars seemed to shine just a bit brighter than before and the moon was glowing just a little more than it just had. All because of Adrian

"How about I go deal with them and I also go grab our stuff since it's about time we clock out we have a fun relaxing night tonight?" He proposed.

"I would love nothing more."

"Good. Now you wait here!"

-

Once I got inside his apartment I immediately collapsed and melted into his couch with a loud dramatic sigh. He had probably the most comfortable apartment imaginable.

"Oh shit." I heard him hiss.

"What's wrong?"

"I was supposed to drop by the store after our shift to grab some things from the store..." He trailed off looking sheepish.

"Go ahead, Adrian. I know it will be all you talk about if you don't." He nodded before muttering a quick 'thank you' and leaving.

I had a really long day in general so as much as I wanted to I did not feel like waiting up for him. I left my work bag on the couch and wandered to his room.

His bookshelf overflowed with books and tabletop games, His bed was slightly messy from the morning, and it felt like him. I dug through his dresser to find this shirt that had a cool-looking dragon and a D20 on it. I took off my apron and work shirt and threw it on. I really hope he doesn't mind.

I threw my shoes somewhere on his floor and crumbled onto his bed. God his blankets were so soft.

-

It had been an hour before Adrian finally made his way home. He took off his mask and suit and tucked it away in the hall closet once he got home. He'd deal with all the blood later.

He walked through the hall and pushed open the door to see his best friend asleep on his bed in his shirt. He couldn't be happier to come home to this. She finally looked at ease snuggled beneath his covers.

Adrian scooted himself into his bed and joined her. He placed a small gentle kiss on her forehead and spooned her.

"They won't hurt you again." He whispered before allowing himself to drift off to sleep with her in his arms.

-

I waited afraid week after week to see that group come back but they never did. Nor the week after that or the next. I soon started to get curious about what Adrian meant when he said he'd "deal with them." Did he get the manager involved? Did he really have that strong effect on them? Maybe he even beat them up. He's too soft for that right?

Anyway, I was just happy to be with the one I've crushed on for so long. It felt good. Better than anything has ever been.

Tonight we were staying in on the couch while we waited for the popcorn to finish in the microwave of his apartment. The smell drifted through the room making me even more hungry than I was before.

"I'm glad they're gone." I looked up at him. His glasses glowed from the light of his phone.

"Me too. I hate seeing you upset." I leaned on his shoulder and my eyes wandered quickly over to his phone. Just a quick peek it wouldn't mean anything. He was texting Chris who according to him was his guy best friend. I had met him a few times for drinks after work and he was a pretty alright guy. I scanned the words and...

I finally got to use the chainsaw on those guys :)

What does that mean?

[transmascaraa]

Guess what!! Time to do another personal rq!! WOHOOO!!!

(I love making your list longer anytime I have the smallest idea)

The reader went on to try and get a job - after getting declined time and time again they finally landed one! In theory the start was great, but they never got the training that was promised and was thrown to the hot water instantly, leading coworkers to start to hate them due to them not knowing what to do at all. Now, within 1 and a half months, the reader has had 7 panic attacks already, and feels like crying anytime they have to go - they have to endure it for at least two more weeks, but they find it hard to do without any sort of comfort or anything, and reader being reader, they didn't tell their partner - they were proud of them for getting a job, so why would they ruin that happiness by saying it's actually terrible? But out of 7 panic attacks, at least one had to be found out. The chances were too slim at this point, the more u cry the more you're likely to be found out. And now, the reader had a panic attack after their boss texted them another passive aggressive message regarding something they were meant to do, but again, no one told them that they were meant to do it, leading to more anger from the work environment.

If possible pls do my little guy my hamburger of the day Lyney!! 🫶 Other than that do whatever you'd like!! Hf!

multiple characters headcannons!

a shoulder to lean on.

characters: lyney, wanderer x gn!reader

author's note: so sorry this took kinda long but i hope you feel better soon :(( if you need anyone to talk to, or anyone to just listen, i'm here^^ either way, i hope you like this :)

♡ Lyney

-was VERY proud of you at first because you got that job

-he was literally the #1 person who was rooting for you. even if nobody else was, HE was.

-and he noticed a bit of a change but didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or in any case, feel like he was overthinking things

-so instead he didn't interrupt.

-until he saw you having a panic attack.

-"love? where are you? love— [name]! w-what- what happened... shh.. breathe..... breathe in, breath out. c'mon, with me." he tried to help calm down your breathing first, he didn't want you passing out or something to it was the first thing that came to mind.

-you slowly listened and as soon as you could talk, he asked you what happened, to which to told him everything. about the job, about the training, the colleagues, and most importantly, unfortunately, your shitty boss.

-"oh, my dear... i'm so sorry to hear that.. why didn't you tell me?.. wait, ignore that stupid question, i won't ask you anything now.. here, let me hold you..." he held you just as you were as fragile as glass that might just break with a wrong move. so he held you.

-he rocked you back and forth. he told you that you're not alone. he kissed the top of your head.

-he won't let you feel alone. he won't let you be alone. he won't allow you to think you're alone.

-"i'll fight this battle with you, mon amour... no matter how long it takes.." with a kiss to your forehead.

-he needs you to know that he cares for you as much as he does for his siblings, and that his heart aches breaks for you.

-he wants you to understand that you can trust him, no matter who other people see him as. "fatui lyney", "greatest magician in all of teyvat" because to you, he's just "lyney"

-he'll confront your boss once you feel calmer. 'Father' will get involved but you don't need to know that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⑅ Wanderer

-was very happy for you once you got the job, but didn't show it too much.

-deep down he's proud of you so much.

-he realized that you act differently than you used to, and he tried to ask you about it, but you'd just shrug it off every time.

-you're not okay and he knows it but doesn't want to annoy you since he knows you hate it.

-but walking in on you having a panic attack was not something he had thought of, at all.

-he just slowly sat down next to you, trying to calm down your breathing and get you aware of your surroundings.

-"shh, let me hold your hand. breathe. slowly. i'm here. you're not alone. squeeze my hand if it makes you feel better. don't think about anything right now, focus on your breathing and me." his usual persona is gone now. he's serious.

-he WANTS to help you. he doesn't want to lose you like the rest. nahida had taught him many things because he's been there too.

-after you calm down a bit, he asks you what's wrong if you feel comfortable telling him.

-once you tell him, he feels his nonexistent heart ache for you. he wishes he could help you with a snap of his fingers. but he can only use his words.

-"i'll talk to you boss, don't worry, i'll tell him how much of a jerk he is, and how he should never breathe again— nevermind, do you need something? water, food, or something?" nobody knows about this side of him but when he shows it to you, you just know how much he actually cares.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

attempted to make lyney a bit longer for you

i hope you like it as much as me cuz i really like it

stay safe and healthy💗

| @keeyisbored | @mariaace <3 |

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being suspicious of a coworker buying me food?

I (18 FtM) work at a retail store. one of my coworkers "Bob" (40s-50s M) has a bad reputation for being unnecessarily argumentative/rude with customers and has allegedly sexually harassed coworkers. he's decently nice to me most of the time, but I view him as a generally shitty person and try to limit interactions with him

Bob semi-frequently buys snacks for other coworkers to share. for example, he once bought grapes for a group of coworkers bc one coworker mentioned wanting some. he has also bought packs of oreos and similar things for people to share. he's never said why he does this and is the only person who will randomly buy food for people. I always decline when Bob offers me food because I have many allergies which he is aware of

now for the actual AITA. yesterday, Bob bought me gluten free oreos. when he first offered me them, I thought it was a prank and was suspicious. he explained it was because he felt bad that I couldn't eat most of the snacks he had bought in the past, so I at that point I just thanked him politely and took them

immediately after this, I went to chat with another coworker about Bob buying me oreos. she agreed it was pretty weird. a few hours later, she ended up joking to Bob that I said it was suspicious that he bought me oreos. this is true, I said that and I did feel that way. Bob seemed to be genuinely hurt by this – not angry, just slightly sad

when I was leaving for the night, Bob approached me to ask if I wasn't taking the oreos home. I realized that I had forgotten them at the guest service desk. this was just me being genuinely forgetful, but he again seemed slightly sad. after that I retrieved the oreos and did bring them home

I haven't seen him since bc this literally happened yesterday, but I'm honestly feeling bad about the whole thing. he was trying to be nice to me, but I was too suspicious of him to just be polite and take them. but at the same time, he's not a great guy and I feel that it's reasonable for me to be suspicious of a man who is decades older than me randomly buying me food. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[heavenpierceher]

just played portal 2 for the first time yes somehow ive never played it before. reposting my thoughts as i played here:

I fucking hate wheatley. Little white cuck ball

As i understand it wheatley turns out to be like Secretly Evil later or whatever but like he’s so blatantly passive aggressive and casually shitty to you that i don’t see how anyone didn’t go okay fuck this guy immediately. Like he’s clearly acting as a sort of arm of aperture itself which constantly bombards you with like jokingly ableist/eugenicist/classist/misogynistic shit

like the juxtaposition of him being a huge asshole because he thinks you have brain damage and the announcer being like ‘ok if you’re old or stupid go back to your Primitive Tribe so we can have Good Subjects for Progress’ is 110% deliberate

also him assuming the person who killed glados was male LMAO

I want glados so bad

Some arasaka tower shit is happening to me

My psionic warriors find me art of chell dribbling and dunking wheatley like a basketball

Glados wants me so bad

my coworker losing his mindddddd 😂 😂 😂

I’m finding these puzzles easier than portal 1 but like in a good way. more intuitive

Also this has almost certainly been said before at length but god valve is so so so good at environmental design

HL is really good too obviously but it really shines in portal where they get to play with contrasts

the really harsh visual contrast between all of portal and the escape stages and the fact that you can see hints of it before it happens. chefs kiss

Single biggest visual improvement: the scary fucked up water that kills you

Yeah I do wish id played this earlier LMAO

glados hums me beautiful songs

I’m imagining that literally none of this is landing for chell like she doesn’t care. and/or glados is just making shit up and so chell also doesn’t care

wheres the dev thing where they were like ‘chell doesn’t talk because she’s just fucking pissed’

She's literally obsessed with me

Genuinely why does anyone like wheatley I'm gonna crush this little shit like a soda can

Guy accuses a woman who has literally never spoken to him or responded to a thing hes said of being bossy

At least the ways in which cave johnson sucks are really funny

i was talking about how wheatley is kind of a stand-in for aperture as an entity and i think cj is a continuation of that. like the above screenshot lines up as being an evolution of cj’s distaste for the ‘lab boys’ and ‘bean counters’; a top-down disdain for the people actually making ‘progress’ possible and keeping things running

me when i have 60 dollars

Valve in particular has a way of making its social commentary so pointed and over the top that its funniness almost but not quite overshadows the point it’s making. In a good way let me be clear

Like it’s so ridiculous you almost forget it’s criticizing/interrogating real phenomena that it’s honestly not depicting that absurdly because everything is very very intentional

i like the idea of chell being like. essentially an ordinary uninvolved person as much as she can be just thematically. glados is petty in the way that humans are petty, she chooses insults that are like… low-hanging fruit because of the environment she was cultivated in, so i think it’s both funnier and more thematically resonant if chell is like. Not even a little bit emotionally affected by glados fucking with her she’s just like Get me out of hereeeeee

A lot of people’s theories about this game seem to rely on glados being truthful which is fucking hilarious

woman who is making shit up to fuck with you: I am making shit up to fuck with you gamers: goly FUCK theory #CONFIRMED?????????????

aw hell no not the aperture science ejaculation gel

Wheatley can you quit jacking off over mic. Genuinely discusses me I hope he explodes

I do not want him to experience pleasure in any form much less as a result of my actions

The fucked up turretcubes are very cute though. Like hermitcrabs

Oh hey it’s the part where he kills me

this is a really good visual gag

Genuinely how does anyone admit to wanting to fuck wheatley how is that not an incredibly embarrassing thing to admit to

how sexist the adventure sphere is was funny and again it is not common for me to say that. valve just knows what they're doing

She’s holding my hand…

Rent free in her fucking head

Rent. Free.

Literally obsessed with me.

I don’t think it’s supposed to do this but it’s on a black screen with no options and has been for like five minutes and i sat there for the entire five minutes like ‘wow this is so poignant…’

Anyway yeah that kicked ass

[obsesssedblerd]

For me for the unrequited love it sucks for both sides. Y/n isn’t giving a reason for needing space which would help their case more, or even saying they need space, leaving the guys to flounder about what’s going on. On the guys hands, some of them were a little shitty about it. Nanami using Y/n as a proxy (would’ve been nicer to tell them beforehand what was being sent yk) and Gojo blatantly saying he’s excited to see Y/n somewhere only bc their beautiful friend will be there.

You made it very neutral ground where really, no one went about it a good, mature way, and I appreciate that lol it really brings out the humanity and imperfection of people. I’m just hoping there’s a mature resolution. It reminds me a little of how I lost a friend a year or so ago. (About to spill about that I’m sorry ;;—;;

We worked together and they complained about me to our managers (they were a manager as well) and I pulled away to try to think about how it made me feel (I’m not great at standing up for myself or making a conflict) and a month later when they asked why I wasn’t coming to a party I told them my feelings… and they immediately became the victim. Literally using “now my feelings are hurt.”

My point there is, even adults have immature resolution tactics and I kiiinda hope I don’t see that here 😂 (but I kinda do at the same time bc I will gobble up whatever you feed me I LOVE the angst) they didn’t really know or notice I was conflicted and never mentioned it until the party but alas… not friends or coworkers anymore. I hope that wasnt like a big dump or unloading I wanted to like make context on how humans aren’t perfect and kind of suck anyway—

I love all your work and your angst is SO good and you always serve more on a silver platter so fast!! Thank you for all the perfect content and I hope you have an amazing day!!! 🫶🏻

love this and thanks for sharing! once the series is done, i want to talk more about the messy things that unrequited love can bring and why i chose to write these the way i did. 🩷 hope your day is also good!

[tinybeetiny]

heheh hellow you are my favorite author so far, can I give you another idea about toxic relationship inspired by the song ateez selfish waltz. hehe love you💗🥺

Eeee omg please don't feed my ego LOL but thank you so much it really means a lot to me! Also I’m so sorry this took me forever to do! I got caught up with something else and then I got into a mood… but I wanted to do this as soon as I was finished! I really hope you like this one 😊I love you so much 🥹💕please please pleeeeassee keep giving me ideeas!!!!!!

This Toxic Love Tears Us Apart: K.Y

->Starring: Non!Idol!YeosangxReader

->Genre: Angst

->CW: gaslighting, explicit language, toxic relationship, everyone is shitty

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

Was it always like this? The back and forth? The constant arguing? You’re not sure when things got so toxic, they weren’t always like this. There were good times, great times even but as you stare at the broken glass at your feet the memories of those times are shredded, replaced by the scarring reminder that your relationship was ripping at the seams

“You never listen to me” your voice carries through the apartment “Maybe because you’ve been saying the same thing over and over for the past 3 weeks” he argued back rolling his eyes. Yeosang felt the irritation all throughout his body. All he wanted to do was relax, having been working all day but nooo. He had to sit here and listen to the same argument for what seems like the hundredth time. He sat on the couch knowing you weren’t going to let up anytime soon and his fingers came up to massage his temples, he’s been getting headaches recently “Well maybe if you actually listened to what I’m saying for once then I would stop bringing it up” You sneered, walking closer to him "I listened to you the first time so I really don't know why we're doing this again" He sighed, head falling back onto the couch. It was the same argument 'You cheated on me' 'I saw you with that girl' 'You don't love me anymore' It was one fucking time and he apologized, what more do you want? “I already told you before. There is nothing going on with her and I. She's just a coworker. You’re literally crazy.” He snaps. He stood up abruptly and stomps over to the door “Where are you going?” You demanded, watching him put his shoes on “Out. I can’t be in this suffocating environment anymore” he shakes his as he reaches for the door “Right. Just run away like you always do” you bite back. You walked back to your bedroom just wanting to lay down “Well maybe if didn't keep bitching at me then I wouldn't need to" He felt his eye twitch.

He really didn't know how much more he could take. No matter what he did you continued to dwell one mistake, well the one that you knew about. He felt so suffocated in this relationship, constantly getting questioned and never being able to breathe. He mourns the happier times from the early stages of your relationship. The cute little dates, the surprise visits to your job, and the nights you fall asleep on the phone with each other. It was like everything seemed to flip overnight. Now he was getting interrogated every time it took him more than 10 minutes to text you back or if he didn't answer your phone calls right away. He tried asking you what was going on but it always brought on tears and you begging him to forgive you. All of the accusations and questioning almost manifested his infidelity or at least that's how he justified it.

"Well maybe if you weren't such a whore I wouldn't have to bitch" His anger bubbled over and he grabbed the closes thing to him. Everything seemed to go so fast, one minute you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom and the next pieces of glass are bouncing off the wall next to you. A shriek left your lips as you turn, shielding your face from the sharp chunks fly everywhere. You stood still for a couple of minutes trying to fully process what had just happened. Never in the 3 years you’ve been together has he ever thrown anything at you. You look up at him, face full of shock and watches as tear flood into your eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but it quickly closes and rushes out of the door.

You sigh, bending over picking up the broken pieces of the vase that sat by the front door. Your hands shake with each piece and the tears slowly fall. This was your favorite vase, shattered in just a couple seconds. You hear the door open and you look up to see Yeosang shuffle in, a bouquet of flowers in hand "Hey pumpkin" you ignore him, continuing to pick up the sharp glass "Please. I'm sorry. You know I am." His tone is soft, a stark contrast to what it was a mere 30 minutes ago “You know I didn’t mean it. I love you” He bends down in front of you, his hand reaching under your chin lifting it so that you're looking at him. His soft expression makes your heart melt. His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear "I love you too" You mumble quietly melting into his palm.

Taglist: @e3ellie @yoonshiiu @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie @atztrsr

@honsans-atiny-24 @fairylover68 @life-is-a-game-of-thrones @atzlordz

If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form

[papermint-airplane]

I'm really not doing well guys. Tl;dr my life sucks a lot. That's all you need to know.

My job is still jerking us around on the layoffs. They started in October of last year with "we're selling the department and laying everyone off in February" then when March rolled around and nothing had happened yet, told everyone "lol just kidding the buyer dropped out". So a lot of people quit because this clown company just told everyone it was willing to sell their jobs out from under them and didn't give a shit who was affected or how.

My job is not a job that can function when short staffed. It was already short staffed before they pulled this fakeout layoff shit and now we're lucky to have two people scheduled at any given time. They're paying thousands in overtime, begging people to come in even for a couple of hours on their days off because we don't have enough people to cover one shift, let alone the three they need because the department is 24/7. Customers are rude and entitled. I've been threatened, I've been called horrible names, I've been told I'm a shit human being and don't deserve to live. I'm not allowed to hang up on them. I'm expected to sit there and just take it and not say anything. Most days, we're so busy that I can't take my daily fifteen minute break or even get up to go to the bathroom. And that's only scratching the surface of what goes on at my job.

I have had a history of overworking myself in that job and everyone knows it. I've had literally hundreds of public panic attacks, three full-on mental breakdowns where I was screaming and literally tearing handfuls of my hair out in front of my coworkers from stress, ended up in the hospital twice because I thought I was having a heart attack, and took off three months in 2020 to check myself into an inpatient mental healthcare facility all the way across the country. I have had countless meetings with my supervisors and their supervisors and HR about the toxic work environment and shitty management. I had to beg them to take me off my 8 day rotation (four days of ten hour shifts, four days of eight hour shifts, all in succession with no days off in between) because I started shaking and laughing uncontrollably around day 6 because I was having a literal fucking breakdown. I have literally had to be taken away from work in an ambulance before.

On top of my anxiety being the worst it's ever been (and that includes when I lived with my abusive father), my depression has gotten so bad that all I can do nowadays is work and sleep. Sometimes I don't even get fully in the house before I pass out because I'm so exhausted. I have woken up on my living room floor after work more than once. I told them that I could no longer work shifts like that nor could I take overtime for my own mental health. And they still act like I'm lazy because I don't work 14 hour shifts daily. Bitch, I'm barely holding it together with my weekly 40 hours, and I'm expected to work every Thanksgiving and Christmas but that's just not enough. Nothing I do is enough. And now I don't even have enough energy for the few things I have that I still enjoy. Want to know why my Sims story is on hiatus? Because I have to force myself to do literally anything other than sleep. My house looks like a disgusting hoarder's nest because I can barely move on my days off. I cry all the time. I can't stand to be touched. I shower excessively because I feel filthy when I come home from work in a way I can't adequately articulate. My eczema is so bad that my neck and face are literally covered in bloody red rashes. I look horrible. I feel worse. I have gained over 150 lbs since starting that job in 2006. My thyroid is busted. Some days, I truly believe that I died long ago and this is my own personal Hell.

Now they're telling us that "we definitely have a buyer for the department and all the contracts have been signed". They said there'd be a transition period, after which we'd be laid off but we'd be told when the transition period begins. Now, we got an email telling us we're halfway through the transition period and are probably getting laid off in August "but we don't know when in August, so stay tuned." At this rate, I'm likely to show up one day and be told to go home. I have no idea when that will be and I have no way to know how to prepare.

The only reason I'm still putting up with this bullshit is because...well, to be honest, I've put in a lot of applications and got absolutely no replies. I'm an unemployable useless sack of shit. My company is at least giving us a really good severance package. I'm getting 17 weeks of pay (one week for every year I've worked there) plus another four weeks of pay, plus a $1000 bonus for staying through the transition period. I think I will also qualify for unemployment. I'm trying not to freak out but I don't know what I'm going to do when my severance runs out. I have only had two jobs in my entire life: a grocery store job when I was a teenager for 3 years and this job that I've had for nearly 18 years. My resumé is one page. I have no skills outside of this job. I'm never going to get hired anywhere that's going to pay me anywhere near what this hellhole of a job paid me.

I truly wish I were brave enough to kill myself but I'm not. I keep living and it keeps getting worse and I'm bombarded with hundreds of news articles and Tumblr posts every day telling me how the world is falling apart around me, so even if by some miracle I manage to find a job that pays me enough to fucking live, I don't have a future anyway. I'm almost 40 and I keep waiting for my life to begin but it never does. And it never will. I will never be happy. I will never be safe. I don't deserve happiness. I don't deserve safety. My own fucking parents hated me from the moment my mom read the lines on her pregnancy test. If my own parents can't love me, nobody can. I'm on medication and in therapy but sometimes, I wonder if it's doing anything at all. You can't fix what's wrong with me. I was just born wrong. And no matter where I go or what kind of job I end up in, the same shit will just keep repeating over and over and over because that's all I deserve. I'll just keep on hurting until global warming or war takes me out and I end up in real Hell.

In an hour, I'm going to regret writing any of this and probably delete this post. Because I'm supposed to take it and not say anything.

My Sims are the only thing that gives me any comfort anymore. Even then, I don't have the energy or attention span to do the things I want. I'm just as irrelevant on Simblr as I am in real life. If I disappeared tomorrow, nobody would notice.

[fuck-customers]

Hello everyone. I’d like to give y’all a quick recap of my time in retail this holiday season:

-two guests tried to fight one of our online order guys, and from what I heard they absolutely provoked him and started the beef by stealing things from the order he was picking for

-had two female guests try to fight ME because I had the audacity to ask them why they were opening boxes of makeup, and management pretty much did nothing about it bc they continued shopping and got to checkout like nothing happened. Then had a leader, who knows nothing about my dept, try to come over and say it was my fault for not saying the exact right thing to her

-had a leader complain to upper management that I “don’t follow direction” bc she tried to come over to my dept, completely change the way we do shit by having me and my coworker switch areas (despite me telling her that our fucking SCHEDULE literally confirms that she is wrong, which she even later admitted herself???)

-had a lady throw boxes of makeup sponges at me

-had to tell multiple groups of very obviously rich and entitled teens/kids that is in fact extremely shitty to get the electric scooters meant for disabled guests and instead use them to race, play bumper cars, or stack three people in the basket on the front of it

Also. A VERY SPECIAL FUCK YOU to some specific customers. An hour after I got screamed at and threatened by the two customers I mentioned above, I guy walking through my area then drops an entire like 24 pack of topo Chico onto the floor and there��s fuckifn glass and water everywhere. Since I had just been screamed at and my leaders did nothing to have my back, I was little bit in a bad mood by the time the broken glass happened. Fucking sue me right?? Wel two guests who SAW ME cleaning up the glass (didn’t even fucking interact with me, I remember) and I guess thought that I didn’t look happy enough while I was doing that and decided to fucking FILE A COMPLAINT ABOUT IT.

Literally what fhe FUCK is wrong with you that you see a worker clearly having a very hard day, in the middle of holiday season, and you then think to yourself, “you know what? That worker needs to be smiling while being plowed in the ass by capitalism. And the fact that they’re not deriving physical, spiritual and sexual pleasure from their shitty retail job offends me so much I think I’ll have to complain about them and make it even worse.”

I even remember who might’ve complained too. Bc the guy that dropped the damn bottles in the first place didn’t even stick around to see it resolved (naturally) and so I didn’t even interact with any customers while cleaning it. HOWEVER, there was a couple standing nearby that when it happened, they immediately ran to his side like “oh man that’s so terrible you must be having a bad day? Are you alright? Do you need help?” So I guess fuck the person who actually has to clean this all up, no instead we should fawn over the jackass who broke all this glass and couldn’t even pretend he cared about it. Because that makes perfect fucking sense. Also love the casual implication that retail workers must be smiling deliriously all the fucking time and that I am not allowed to show any emotions besides that bc I am subhuman and not deserving of any grace or empathy. So dear customers who complained… I’m literally BEGGING the universe to fuck you over and YOU personally because if you truly had nothing better to do than scrutinize the facial expressions of a retail worker you never even interacted with, you are truly a waste of oxygen and are detrimental to society. I hope your nastiness comes back to bite you in the ass. I hope someone kicks YOU while you’re down and I hope it fucking sucks, you worthless piece of shit.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[profoundbondfanfic]

A Complete Kingdom by komodobits [Explicit, 85k words]

The sea; it swallows me. It comes up to my knees and it swallows me. The boys owe Jody a few dozen favours, and so when her niece goes missing near an old fishing village on the coast of Maine, Dean, Sam, and a newly human Castiel agree to take the case on. They settle into an old abandoned lighthouse-keepers' cottage, and slowly the tide comes in. (post-s8)

Between Love and Agony by Duckyboos [Explicit, 53k words]

Dean Winchester is in love. Like, bonafide heart eyes and deep sighs, hung-the-moon love. There's just one problem: the lucky guy is his husband's identical twin, Castiel. The two of them have been having a kinky affair for years, burrowing under each other’s skin and setting up camp. Which is why, after Castiel goes missing, Dean’s about ready to tear the world apart looking for him. When Castiel eventually returns to him, he’s been through literal hell, managing to drag himself out, bloody and raw, for Dean. Together, they discover a way to make Castiel whole again — though the price will be gruesome... and there will certainly be hell to pay.

Camp by fullvoid [Explicit, 9k words]

It’s 1985 and to say that Dean is relieved when his summer job at the local camp comes to an end would be an egregious understatement. There are about a million different ways he would have rather spent his summer than by being the maladjusted, weird guy that all his coworkers avoid. Nevertheless, in a poor effort to fit in, Dean decides to attend the annual celebration that his fellow counselors organize at the end of every camp season. It isn’t supposed to be anything special, simply a standard party with shitty vodka, late-night skinny dipping, and make-your-ears-bleed soft rock. As it turns out, the hockey-mask-adorned, machete-wielding killer who crashes it has other plans—and no one is prepared for the horrors the night will bring.

et florum magica: (And the Magic of Flowers) by wiccanstiel [Explicit, 52k words]

There’s a large, leafless tree and a road, a hand on a gnarled cane, a stoutly man in a black suit, his face scratched out. When Castiel Novak moves to the small town of Fox Hollow, he’s looking for a fresh start. Only his past seems to be–quite literally–haunting him, and even through his best efforts of settling into his new life, there’s a darkness in the shadows that he can’t seem to shake. And after meeting an otherworldly being named Dean during what was supposed to be a simple walk through the forest, he’s left with more questions than answers. But like it’s residents, Fox Hollow has some well-kept secrets, and things quickly turn to life or death when one of those secrets finally steps from the shadows and into the light.

empty places by dothraki_shieldmaiden [Mature, 71k words]

There’s something outside the house. Something is moving outside the house, moving inside the house. Maybe moving inside him. Something is outside the house, and it wants in. After tragedy derails his life, Castiel Novak needs to escape. He flees to Lawrence, Kansas, where he answers Dean Winchester’s ad for a roommate. There, he tries to mend the shattered pieces of his life. But as he starts to become closer with Dean, Castiel finds that escape isn’t so easy. The past doesn’t want to be left behind, and there’s something inside the house. Something hungry. And it won’t be appeased until it has him.

Good Bones by emmbrancsxx0 [Mature, 39k words]

An apple pie, white picket fence American Nightmare. Dean and Cas, married and semi-retired from hunting, move into their first house together in a sleepy, secluded town. After a few run ins with the ghost that haunts the place, they must come face-to-face with the house's grisly past.

the inexhaustible silence of houses by Askance (doomcountry) [Teen and Up, 31k words]

Almost two years after the world doesn't end, Castiel falls from grace—and loses his voice in the process. It is the impetus for confession and change; before long, he is settling into a loving relationship with Dean, the Winchesters are tired, and hunting for a place to land has taken precedence to hunting anything else. Dean and Castiel fall in love with the strange little house on the end of Swallowtail Drive, and for a little while life is as it should be—sweet, affectionate, and beginning afresh. But more and more Castiel sees and hears things in the house that beg the question of whether or not a place itself can be alive. The walls and rooms seem to shift and grow and breathe, and one night, Dean comes home from a hunt changed in a way that Castiel cannot explain. In the months that follow, their domestic bliss takes turns for the dark and sour, and the confusion of their circumstances will ultimately test everything Castiel knows about the man he loves, and everything he believes to be true.

Tunnel by deansmultitudes [Explicit, 13k words]

An injury during a hasty job makes Dean, Sam and Cas split up in the underground tunnels. Confused and trapped in a maze of walls that seem to shift at the will of something evil, Dean's frantically searching for his loved ones.

White Noise by saltyfeathers [Mature, 30k words]

in an unnamed, perpetually rainy city on the east coast, something haunts dean and cas’ apartment. they’d like to pretend they don’t know what’s living in the space between them, but feigned ignorance can only keep them above water for so long. something happened nine months ago. something they don’t talk about. but the things people don’t talk about often find ways to speak for themselves, whether dean and cas are ready to pay their dues or not. the rain is an unforgiving entity, and as it continues to pervade the city; as it seeps into their already cold bones, they can feel the ocean rising around them, leaving them choking not on just what happened nine months ago, but what they’ve come to mean to each other since then.

[eating-plastic]

Anything For His Dear Tenant: Maison Talo x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, comfort, swearing, slight angst, implied fem reader, mentions of Maison eating someone, mentions of Maison wanting to eat your enemies lol, reader works at the gas station, basically you have a shitty day and Maison tries to make you feel better, emphasis on "tries" lol, it's sweet but simple ya know, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 3587 words

A/N: I know I know, I drool over this fudgin' house A LOT, but it's not always dirty stuff. Sometimes it's cute, wholesome I-want-him-to-comfort-and-love-me stuff. I got range...kinda...sorta...eh not really lol. After this, I'm not too sure if I'll write much for good ol House House. It sucks being obsessed with a character, but struggling to come up with ideas to write for them. So yeah, shameless reminder that I take requests lol. Not just for Maison, but any other character I have written for in the past. Anyhoo, that's all for now! See you!

--------------------

Rapid footsteps slap against the pavement while a cool, summer breeze hits your face as you hurry down the sidewalk. Under normal circumstances, you would've acknowledged that it was a nice day and might've even cheered you up, but no, not today. Why? Because today was the worst day you've ever had. Not just a bad day, but a shitty, horrible, no-good day.

Who did you have to blame for this awful day you had? You didn't know where to begin, but you did know they all were at your "lovely" workplace. From rude, entitled customers pissed at you because you couldn't ring them up a second faster, to a group of...you don't even know what they were but they might as well be called tornados for the mess they caused in the aisles, to your asshole boss blaming you for every mishap that happened today; yes, even though you literally had another lazy, barely-there coworker that could've made everything easier if they actually did something.

And the cherry on top of this "tasty" sundae of a day, was said boss threatening to dock your pay for "your incompetence." What a delightful way to close your day.

Oh well, at least the sight of a familiar "for sale" house seemed to bring your spirits up. If you weren't so mentally drained, you would've smiled as you dragged yourself up to the front door and let yourself in.

"Maison?" you call as you lean up against the door, but are met with complete silence. You glance down at your feet and notice his lure cord leading out the door, making you sigh. Of course, you were so miserable and desperate to leave your hell-on-earth job that you didn't notice it.

You sigh and make your way into the living room. You just stand in the empty room for a moment before all of the misery and stress just comes crashing down upon you. You throw yourself onto the couch and sob into your arms.

You quickly found out that living and working in the Uncanny Valley wasn't going to be easy, sure. You've had your fair share of bad days, but those were delightful compared to this.

While wallowing in your emotional turmoil, you suddenly feel something touch your head making you jump up and look around, startled. You turn to glance up at the ceiling to see a red, fleshy tentacle tilting itself like a dog would tilt their head in curiosity. Slowly, it moves itself back to your head to gently pet it.

You let out a short, incredulous laugh and lay back down to rest your chin on your crossed arms. You do have to admit that it does help a little bit as you close your eyes and take deep breaths.

A soft buzzing noise causes your eyes to flutter open and turn your attention to the source: your phone in your back pocket. You pull it out and look at the screen seeing that you got a text message from Maison.

Are you alright?

You type up your short, straight-to-the-point message back.

No. Not really.

You sit and watch as the bubble with three little dots pops up, waiting for the next message.

I see. I'll be back soon, but not alone. Just be patient my dear. I bought you that iced tea that you like. Why don't you pour yourself a glass and sit outside for a little while? I'll be with you after I eat. I love you.

You let out another sigh and sit up, shooting him your own "I love you" message. The red tentacle that was petting your head moves to pat you on the back, telling you to get going. With that, you pull yourself up and go to do just as your beloved REALTOR asked of you.

--------------------

Maison didn't like to be impatient when it came to getting food, at least when he didn't have to be, but seeing you so upset made him feel antsy to take care of you. Surely you understand just how special you are to him. He has been around for many many years and he can't remember if he's ever found someone that he loves as much as you.

He loves the new purpose you've brought into his life. He loves making you happy and taking care of you. Loving you. That's why the "buyer" he had found couldn't be mad at him for practically shoving him into his house form. He's normally not so pushy and rude, but they must understand he had more important matters that needed his attention.

Once all of that was taken care of, he made his way back outdoors to a little patio in the backyard. There he saw you, sitting at a little table under an umbrella scrolling absentmindedly through your phone and a half-empty glass of iced tea in front of you. It was a nice little place for you to hang out in the situation that you didn't have anywhere you needed to or would like to go when Maison had to eat.

You hear the sound of his footsteps, pulling your attention away from the device in your hand, not that it had much of it to begin with. He makes his way behind your chair and gently rests his hands on your shoulders, causing them to relax.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, concern evident in his voice.

"...Not really," you mumble.

Maison nods and continues to rub your shoulders, thinking. He knew that the cause of your distress was that dreadful workplace of yours. He truly doesn't understand why you waste your precious time and sanity there. First of all, it wasn't like you had to worry much about bills; you had such a lovely house with all the amenities completely free. And if it was things like food or things that weren't necessities, then he could easily buy those for you. Being around for so long has caused him to accumulate a fair bit of wealth from previous "buyers" that he hardly spends on himself.

Yet still you go work and he is treated to your occasional rants about every person that causes you grief. Those rants he can put up with, but knowing that those wastes of space made you cry, his darling tenant, was just unacceptable.

While he isn't one to compromise his "ethics" and "standards" as the number 1 REALTOR in the Uncanny Valley, still deeming the act of snatching up "potential buyers" as barbaric, let's just say that he would be willing to conveniently set aside those values of his if the opportunity presented itself if it meant getting rid of someone that didn't deserve to breathe the same air as you-

No no no, he shouldn't be thinking about that, at least not right now; that'll be an idea for another time. Right now, he needed to take care of you, and he had a plan. A delightful plan that will make you see how he can provide you anything your little heart desires and how you will never have to worry about working another day in your life.

"Hmm...I may know something that will help take your mind off of things," he says in a way that he knows will intrigue you.

"Really?" you ask and turn around in your chair to look up at him. "What?"

--------------------

The mall in the Uncanny Valley was the strangest place that you had ever visited on the island, though now, after living there for some time, you see that it fits in with the rest of the oddities. While most areas are bustling and full of open shops, there are random areas that are empty and decrepit as if the building was abandoned. These areas were always barred off by chain link roller shutters, and if you look through them long enough, you swear you see the shadows of people moving within these restricted areas. To make things even more peculiar, these areas were never consistent; what may have been a barred-off area or store one day, would be opened and fully stocked the next. And don't even get me started on the mannequins that always turn their heads to look at you no matter where you are in the store.

All in all though, you found it to be a pretty nice shopping center.

You and Maison enter and stand in the large atrium that always greeted you no matter which set of doors you used to get in.

"Here," he smiles and hands you a small card.

It gives you a flashback to when you first met him until you notice that this card is nothing like the one with his number on it. This one was blue, made of plastic, and had symbols on it that you didn't recognize. Based on the way that they are arranged, you can deduce that it's a credit card with a name on it that was definitely not Maison's.

"Why don't you go treat yourself, hm?" he says, patting your back. "Any little thing that catches your eye, anything that you want, you get."

You stare up at the tall REALTOR in disbelief. Sure, he wasn't shy when it came to spoiling you, often giving you gifts that were on the expensive side. But actually letting you lose and allowing you to buy anything you wanted felt...wrong.

"I...I don't know, Maison. This is nice, really but-" you begin, trying to hand the card back to him.

"Nonsense," he interrupts. "I insist, really my dear. Go on, you deserve it. I'll be right here when you're done."

He gives you another smile, this one more reassuring as he pushes the card back toward you. With that, you hesitantly turn to actually check out the many shops that fill the large building.

You feel so out of place while you wander around, glancing in store window after store window. You've never felt this much financial freedom before. You don't even know how much money is actually on the credit card in your pocket, though from Maison's words. it sounded like there was a very fair amount on it.

Augh, you still feel bad if you buy something super expensive though. Maybe you'll just stick with the few stores you like and only buy something as long as it is reasonably priced. Yes, that sounds like the best plan. Besides, you can tell that Maison will be disappointed if you don't buy at least one thing for yourself.

--------------------

You make your way back to the mall's entrance with a few bags dangling off your arms. There wasn't anything too fancy in them, just some clothes that caught your eye, some nice smelling perfume, and a couple of books. You even bought a book for Maison by one of his favorite authors; a small thank you, though you know it really doesn't make up for this little shopping trip entirely.

When you get to the atrium, you spot your beloved REALTOR sitting on one of the benches and on the phone with someone. You quicken your pace toward him, hoping that you aren't keeping him for another meal for himself. It seems like perfect timing as when you get close enough, he hangs up. He then looks up and his expression brightens when he sees you.

"Ah, there you are. I see you've found something nice," he says, motioning to your bags.

"Uh yeah, thank you, really," you reach into your back pocket for the credit card and return it to him, an action that's a bit awkward due to your bags. "I'm not keeping you from a 'potential buyer' am I, Maison?"

"Hm, oh no, not at all, my dear," he waves his hand dismissively and stands up. "I have a surprise for you. Come along, now. I want you to have enough time to get ready."

"Another surprise? Maison, this was all enough. Isn't that a bit much-"

"Nonsense," he cuts you off again and wraps an arm around you to usher you both out of the mall. "You know nothing is too good for my darling tenant."

He smiles down at you, which you return with your own small, but forced one. You really don't want to feel ungrateful, but you can't help but feel more distressed than excited for your surprise.

--------------------

Maison stands by the front door waiting for you to finish getting ready. The surprise he had planned for you was a nice, very expensive dinner and one of the few higher-end restaurants in the Uncanny Valley. After all, he wasn't going to let you cook after the day you had.

Sure, he could take you anywhere, but being the number 1 REALTOR in the Uncanny Valley, he's always been a fan of the more finer things in life, which he extended to you. You are perfection in his eyes, therefore he believes you also deserve nothing but the best. Unfortunately, that means he misinterprets your discomfort towards his grand gifts as you just being humble.

The sound of your approaching footsteps makes him look up and see you standing before him, wearing a gorgeous dress in your favorite color; one of the many gifts he has gotten you since you two had started dating.

"Ah, my dear, you look stunning," he smiles and takes your hand into his own, raising it to his lips to plant a kiss to your knuckles. Despite your dread at what Maison had planned for you and why it required you to dress formally, a little affection never failed to make your face heat up and pull a small giggle from you. "Are you ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess. You still haven't told me where we're going though."

"Well of course. That beats the whole point of a surprise, love," he jests. "Now come along, I would hate for us to be late."

Maison opens the front door to usher you outside and into the evening air. While you both walk to your destination, you try to distract yourself from your curiosity by taking the beautiful sunset. It's times like this that can sometimes make you forget that the Uncanny Valley is a place of oddities and some life-threatening anomalies.

"Here we are," Maison announces, pulling you back to reality and realizing you both are now downtown and standing in front of a pretty fancy looking restaurant.

"Why are we here?" you ask, genuinely confused. "I mean, it's not like you can really...eat anything while you're here."

"I know I know, but why is that any reason for you to not enjoy it?"

When you both enter the establishment, the hostess standing in the entranceway actually does a doubletake when she spots the tall REALTOR at your side. Sure it wasn't too uncommon for some REALTORS to get takeout every once in a while, but it was extremely rare to see Maison anywhere near a restaurant (save for the odd fish sandwich every now and again). Still, she tries to be polite and professional despite her shock. Even the waiter you two get...er, more like you get since Maison turns down a menu for himself (for many reasons), can't seem to get over him being there.

Trying to find something that looked both appetizing but also not too pricey was a challenge for you. You didn't think that it was possible for a single meal to cost over $100. Even when you do finally settle on something, you still feel like you got something that was too much money even if it was delicious. You try to get down as much of your food that you can as you don't want it to go to waste, but that too was not an easy feat due to your stomach twisting and turning inside you for the past hour. All the while, Maison talks about something but all words go in one ear and out the other since you are so focused on trying not to puke.

When the waiter returns to your table with the bill, you watch as your beloved REALTOR just sets his credit card on the table and slides the two off to the side like it's nothing. You don't even see him glance at the price, but what he does finally see though, is just how uneasy you look.

His face drops at that. He doesn't get it, why do you still look so upset? He thought you would've forgotten all about the nasty day you had. Did he not try hard enough?

Once your meal has been paid for, he leads you out of the restaurant, shooting a small "goodnight" back at the hostess who greeted you two. Once in the cool, night air however, he holds you close to his side and guides you away from anyone who might eavesdrop on your private conversation.

"What's wrong, love?" he asks, turning you to face him.

"What? Nothing. I'm fine, everything's fine," you squeak out way too fast than you would've liked. If that doesn't give away the fact that you were lying, then the fact that your eyes were looking at everything but Maison does.

"No, you're not. Come now, dear you can tell me what's wrong," he gently turns your face to him. The concerned look in his eyes makes you sigh and confess.

"I know you don't mean to do this, and I know you meant well with today, but...I'm just not comfortable accepting big, expensive...things...," you explain while absentmindedly wringing your hands.

"I...I suppose I do overdo it sometimes. But you understand why I do it, right?" he takes your hands into his, squeezing them tightly.

"I do. I know it's just because you love me-"

"More than that," he interrupts before pulling you closer. "You are very very special to me. All I want is for you to be happy, which is why I can't stand you constantly dragging yourself back to that dreadful job of yours. I can't stand you constantly putting up with people who don't deserve to be in your presence. I was hoping that after today you would've seen that you don't need to put up with it anymore."

"I...I know, but...," you take a deep breath when you realize just what you are going to say. "As Ironic as it sounds...I've never been able to live a stable life before here. And anytime it felt like I'd finally achieve some sort of stability, it was always ripped away from me. That's why I still work, despite how horrible the days may be. I'm terrified that that will happen again, even though I know how unlikely that is now."

Maison is silent for a moment before he takes you in his arms and rests your head against his chest.

"Oh my sweet tenant, why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I didn't want to seem ungrateful. Besides...it's really not something I like to think about. I guess it really doesn't matter if I'm constantly afraid of it though, huh?" you mumble out as a half-hearted joke.

"Does that job of yours even quell your fear? Is it even worth it?" he questions while petting your hair. "Anything that drives you to tears does not deserve your time and sanity. If you wish to keep working, then do it at another job. Just know that until then, I will be able to provide for you...however you'd like me to."

You pull away to look up at Maison, seeing his gentle eyes and smile are enough for you to give him your own, this time not forced.

"I...I'm gonna give it one more try, but that's it. If I have one more horrible day, then I'll quit and look for someplace new. How does that sound?" you beam.

"I think that sounds wonderful. Although you should know that I'll hold you up on that," he jests, making you giggle. "Now, why don't we head back and do something that we should've done in the beginning, hm?"

"Really, what's that?"

"Well if I remember correctly I believe there's a new episode of that show you like that's on tonight. Now tell me, how does that sound?" he parrots from your promise.

"I think that sounds wonderful," your smile grows wider and you slowly lean your face closer to his. Maison mirrors you and captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

--------------------

Despite the roller coaster of a day you had, having it end with your head resting on Maison's lap while you watch your favorite tv show makes up for it. While he's not paying attention, he's not that interested in television, he's more than content reading the new book you got him and playing with your hair.

He's not too pleased with the fact that you aren't quitting your job immediately, but knowing that you will do it soon is enough for him. Besides, it was the weekend after all, you have a little more time to think about it and change your mind. He also knows that he will have to try holding back when it comes to spoiling you, at least until you become more comfortable with it, but if it means keeping you happy then so be it. He'll do anything to keep you happy.

He'll do anything for you, his dear tenant.