#would that everyone had a job that paid a living wage and if they could not work they still had all their needs met!

[katarh-mest]

I know how to drive. I have a full time job. I eat healthy and go to the gym. And I still think society needs to change because it doesn't have to be this way.

[chosolar]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ reason for my being

THIS IS A REPOST

sukuna x fem!reader

reformed!sukuna who was suddenly given emergency guardianship of yuji whose parents passed away in a tragic car accident. his grandpa was not in good health so sukuna became yuji's caretaker.

reformed!sukuna knew that his job of drug dealing and underground fighting would not be practical anymore. if he wanted to keep yuji in his care, he needed to get away from the life he's living now. he updated his resume and applied to every job opening he saw, hoping that one of them will offer him something.

reformed!sukuna took yuji out the day he got an offer from a grocery store for an inventory position. it was entry level, but they overlooked the huge gap in his resume (filled with illegalities that obviously he couldn't put down) and they paid a living wage. sukuna, despite having to adapt to new circumstances, did the best he could with what he had.

reformed!sukuna got your number from toji who told him that you babysit megumi all the time when he would have a fight. you never asked any questions and megumi really likes you, so sukuna calls you one night when his work asked him to work an overnight shift since someone called in. you arrive at sukuna's place quite early but it gives him plenty of time to run you down on yuji's bedtime routine. sukuna tells you that just in case you have a question, don't hesitate to contact him. not like he just wanted to text you or anything

reformed!sukuna felt like time went by so fast during that shift. maybe it was because he was anxious since he was away from yuji during the night. sukuna is thankful for your hourly updates of yuji with pictures. he doesn't care that almost all of them are yuji sleeping, but it gives him a sense of relief seeing that yuji is sleeping well beside you.

reformed!sukuna finally saved enough money to move to a better area for yuji. almost a whole year of working about 16 hours a day, but sukuna endured through it all. he got a 2-bedroom apartment with a bigger kitchen and more space for yuji to play around. the area he used to live in was not the safest, but now that he has yuji with him (and the cute babysitter you) he couldn't afford to jeopardize both of your safety by staying there.

reformed!sukuna sometimes brings food for you when he comes home from work. if he's feeling energetic, he'll whip up something for you and yuji. he's surprisingly a good cook contrary to his looks. since he's lived by himself for a long time and he went on meticulous diets to upkeep his weight for fights, he often cooked for himself. on days that he does cook, you and yuji wake up to the most appetizing breakfast you've ever had.

reformed!sukuna likes staying fit! like hello look at him, at least 195 cm (6ft 5) with a muscular frame, sukuna does not want to lose his build that he's worked so hard for. he's at his prime! it does help that the boxes he carries are heavy and he carries a minimum of 3, so he doesn't worry about letting himself go anytime soon.

reformed!sukuna still spars from time to time. when he's waiting for yuji to finish school or he just needs to blow off steam, sukuna finds himself heading back to the gym he used to train at. toji would egg him on saying that sukuna's not as good, but everyone knows that he's far from it. sukuna would punch toji a little harder everytime he insults him just to show that he's anything but washed.

reformed!sukuna knows he's intimidating to look at. with his huge stature and multiple tattoos, everyone avoids encountering the pink-haired man. so when you come over one night to watch yuji with bloodshot eyes and a bruise forming on your cheek, he couldn't just stand back and watch someone disrespect you. who else would watch yuji and give sukuna something to look forward to during gruelling days?

he ends up calling off from work because he wanted to know what happened. no way anyone would put hands on his sweet babysitter.

sukuna tries multiple times to ask what happened to you but each time you shrug him off. in true hardheaded sukuna fashion, he lets it go until he's alone with you. he waits for you to finish tucking on yuji, his legs shaking restlessly. he tries not to bite his nails, a habit he hasn't done in a hot minute.

he silently exhales when he sees you emerge from yuji's bedroom. the first thing he notices about you is the cartoon bandaid on your cheek, presumably from yuji who thinks that every injury can be fixed with a bandaid over it. he glances at you who's taken a seat on the other end of the couch.

"what happened?" sukuna breaks the silence. he doesn't mean to sound so gruff but he's not used to comforting others.

"I," you choke on your words but composed yourself quickly, "got jumped. they... they took my stuff so I couldn't pay my rent on time."

sukuna, a man of pride and ceaseless apathy, even felt his heartstrings tugged seeing you hold back tears.

"my roommate also hadn't given me their share of the rent for the last couple of months so I got evicted. I'm just glad that you let me stay here when I watch yuji." you try to laugh it off but sukuna's not stupid. you wave your hand in the air, "anyway don't worry about it. I'll find a way, I always do."

sukuna silently agrees because the whole time he's known you, you've always been as hardheaded as him. sometimes it's annoying, but he's secretly happy that he finally has someone to butt heads with. before he leaves you alone, he asks, "did you at least see who did it? maybe we can report them."

sukuna doesn't trust the police. he'd rather get justice on his own.

"yeah a bit. long hair and I think he had scars on his face. think he knows you because he called me your new bitch." anything else you said after that fell to deaf ears.

sukuna zones out. he knew only one person that matches your vague description.

he waits for you to fall asleep on the couch, putting a blanket over you when he sees you shiver a bit. he crouches down and brushes his hand softly over your bruise. the movement caused you to flinch in your sleep so he pulls his hand back, scared to bring you more unnecessary discomfort.

once he knows you and yuji are deep in sleep, he sets out quietly to his old neighbourhood. the street lights flicker, the smell of cigarette smoke and rusty metal is harsh on sukuna's nose since he hasn't been here in a while.

sukuna takes a turn at a narrow alleyway and kicks the door open. he scans the area and picks out a small group of people gathered in a circle. in the middle of it, he can make out the figure of your favourite bag, promptly putting together that that was your bag, dirtied and torn. the long-haired man rummaging through your belongings finally notices the sukuna who's busted through the door.

"sukuna! long time no-"

reformed!sukuna did not even let mahito finish his greeting, letting his fist make direct impact on the other man's cheek. it didn't matter that sukuna has been out of the fighting scene for a whole year, he still fought like the undefeated champion he previously was. he couldn't believe any of his opponents would stoop down so low that they'd jump someone who was so close to him.

reformed!sukuna made sure mahito understand that if he gets close to you or yuji ever again, he will not hold back. sukuna made sure he got back all the things mahito stole from you (and maybe a few thousand but that was compensation for the bruise mahito stupidly put on your beautiful face). he returned back home with all your items, glad to see that you and yuji are still sleeping well.

reformed!sukuna offers for you to stay at their place while you look for another apartment that's suitable for you. he would've recommended his old apartment but it was in a sketchy area, and he wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing you're by yourself in that area. he eases all your questions, he'll sleep with yuji and you can stay in sukuna's bedroom.

reformed!sukuna trades in his beloved motorcycle for a sensible car that yuji likes. as hard as it was for him to hand over the keys to his baby, sukuna thought it was worth it seeing you sit with yuji in the back like a cute family. he slaps himself for thinking such thoughts and blames it on his exhaustion, but the thought stays in the back of his mind.

reformed!sukuna helps you get your things from your apartment. he made toji watch yuji for the day so that sukuna could focus on you for the day. he did all the heavy lifting (it weighed nothing to him ofc) and he refused to let you carry anything that wasn't already in your bag, so all you ended up just watching him move your things. after you both finished putting all your stuff away in the corner of sukuna's room, he asks if you want to have a late lunch with him. who would deny that scary cute face? he recently got a promotion with a salary raise, so he took you to this nice restaurant he's been hearing his coworkers rave about.

reformed!sukuna takes you out for a sweet treat after the meal. he knows you love it and after the terrible night you had, he believes that you deserve everything you want to make you feel better.

reformed!sukuna starts teaching you the basics of fighting when you both got home. yuji's doodling on the coffee table, his favourite cartoon show playing in the background, while sukuna makes you work on your stance.

"if you stand like that, you're not going to have a strong foundation," he sighs. you tilt your head to the side, "I've literally never had to fight."

"well now you need to practice now, you have to be able to at least defend yourself if I'm not around." sukuna's voice got quiet as he finished the sentence. he didn't want you thinking that he would always be with you, but he wouldn't mind if you did. he does like your company.

reformed!sukuna worries when he has to leave you and yuji for work. your hourly updates with pictures aren't enough anymore so he started video-calling you. he says that he feels better when he can see you two in real time but he guises his desire for you with concern.

reformed!sukuna likes listening to you yap. he's always been active listener despite his uninterested expression, so during times when you think no one's listening - well sukuna is. he started cooking your favourite dishes and if he didn't know them, he'd sacrifice his sleep to learn the recipe from youtube. when you walk on the sidewalk together, he always makes sure that he's the one closest to the street since he knows you have the irrational fear of cars swerving to the pavement.

reformed!sukuna is infatuated with how sweet you are with yuji. before he met you, the dates he went to ended abruptly everytime he mentions that he is taking care of nephew. they assume a man like sukuna wouldn't want anything to do with being a parent or a guardian and well sukuna did at first, but taking care of yuji has changed his perspective on life. he couldn't keep living recklessly so he changed himself for the better. even though it was difficult at first, sukuna's thankful that because of his guardianship of yuji, he met you.

reformed!sukuna is not big on words. he's not the best with expressing his feelings so people have assumed that he's an asshole. instead sukuna prefers showing his love through the food he puts effort making. he'll cut up fruits and even bakes pastries for you and yuji to snack on. he'll hold your hand when you're in a busy store so that you don't get lost. the most affectionate thing that sukuna does to show his love for you is when he cuddles with you during nights filled with terrifying dreams.

he hears yuji's door creak open and through gap, he sees the your figure. sukuna remembers your rambles of sleepless nights when all your dreams are the most vivid nightmares. he already knew what you were going to ask, but he saw you second guess yourself. before you could close yuji's door and head back to sukuna's bedroom, sukuna inserts his hand and holds the door open.

"I can stay in the bedroom with you, if you want. I'll stay until you fall asleep."

reformed!sukuna felt nervous. even during the most intense fights that he used to have where everything he had was on the line, sukuna felt more at ease then than he does now. he's asked out other women but is the thought of asking you making his palms sweaty? he hears the locks of the front door open, excited to see you and yuji walk through with his hand in yours.

"sukuna I have great news!" you exclaim, taking off your shoes and sitting on the seat of the kitchen table beside him.

he clears his throat, "I do too, but you go first."

"I got an apartment! they said I can move in as early as tomorrow!!" your visible excitement made it hard for him to swallow his thoughts away.

maybe reformed!sukuna should've told his news first.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

hello! this has been in my head for foreverrrrrr that I needed to get it out. I'm also kinda cheesed because I was getting to the juicy part and IT DIDNT SAVE !!! ;'(

the ending feels too similar to the first part of wanna be yours so I might change it ngl. this will have a pt 2 that's a written fic rather than headcanons so we'll see if I do change it

hope you guys enjoyed this! ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ♡

[sunderwight]

SV AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a dragon.

It's not so bad, at first. He's an extremely magical sort of dragon so he can easily take on a humanoid shape, and he has dominion over an entire mountain, with a magical gate that leads to his palace. Said palace has a fully stocked treasury, a library, garden, etc, with the only real downsides being that the place is kind of huge and very difficult for a neet with limited housekeeping or landscaping skills to keep up with. The original dragon had enslaved a bunch of fairy spirits to do it for him, but since Shen Yuan has moral objections to that, he'd let them all go and they'd run off before he could even think to offer to hire any of them as paid employees instead. Not that he can blame them for being in a hurry to get gone.

He does his best, and generally enjoys being a dragon lazing on his mountain, or wandering the beauty of his palace and investigating the books and scrolls kept there. He doesn't actually seem to need to eat or drink, so that's not really an issue, and nobody looks keen to bother him. But after a few months the dust starts to really pile up, and trying to figure out how to do his own laundry without modern equipment leads to several disasters, and even though he doesn't need to eat he's starting to think it would be quite nice to have a fancy sit-down dinner and enjoy it for its own sake anyway. He has an enchanted larder but his food prep skills aren't up to much.

So, Shen Yuan ventures away from his mountain. He keeps to his human disguise when he's not traveling, and at first tries to hire on some help from a nearby city. But when he explains that he lives on the mountain, he realizes the difficulty, because everyone in the area knows that only the dragon lives there. So they all think he's either a liar or a fraud, or some servant of a nefarious supernatural creature angling to trick and possibly devour them.

Shen Yuan tries approaching another town in his dragon form, to see if anyone will actually deal with him if he's being upfront and honest about the situation, but the townspeople just panic. He returns to his mountain to rethink his strategies, and in the meanwhile the alarmed locals hire a swordsman to go after him. The guy gives him a few very painful cuts before Shen Yuan mostly-accidentally sends him careening into a boulder. One broken arm later the swordsman is gently persuaded that the pay he was offered isn't worth the effort on this job, and leaves.

Discouraged, Shen Yuan decides he's gonna give this one last try. He picks the second closest city, flies up, and is like yes hello, yes I am indeed a dragon, no I'm not trying to burn down your walls, yes it would be excellent if you stopped shooting arrows at me, look they don't even get past the scales? It's kind of silly? Okay, yes, thank you very much. Good. Now, the thing is, I'm looking for some people. I want to take them back to my mountain with me, to my incredibly nice palace, and -- what was that? A princess? No no I don't want a princess, what would I even do with one? If anything I'm looking for the complete opposite of a princess!

Anyway, the locals take this to mean that the dragon is demanding a sacrifice in the form of a pretty boy of no particular pedigree, and Shen Yuan takes this to mean that he's finally made his case clear and they're going to dig up someone who is willing to overlook his being a dragon in exchange for free room and board and fair wages out of his massive treasury.

SY's a bit disheartened when the entire city could only apparently turn up one such person -- an underfed teenage boy who looks at Shen Yuan like, despite the situation, he is still expecting to be eaten at any moment. Poor thing! But at least having one servant means he can potentially get more, especially if it all goes well. The lad can tell others that working for a dragon isn't so bad! Well, provided that he doesn't give up in alarm at the state of the mountain palace.

For his part, Luo Binghe at first thinks he's definitely going to get eaten, and then that this dragon is weirdly nice about planning to eat him, and then that maybe the dragon has other (even less savory!) plans for him, until finally he sees the state of the dragon's laundry and the foot-thick layer of dust in the corners, and gets completely distracted. Mortal terror forgotten, those floors should not be that filthy, Lord Dragon respectfully that isn't how anyone should prepare rice either, but oh Binghe has never seen a kitchen so nice before in his life...!

Anyway, needless to say, it works out just fine.

[amazinglyashy]

Crow on the Ring

Read on AO3 Pairings: Sylus x Reader, Luke and Kieran & Reader Tags: Gender Neutral Pronouns, Domestic Fluff, Getting your Nails Done Wordcount: 1,116 Summary: Sylus wonders to himself- if there was any point in having henchmen anymore. If they were going to consistently be busy with his partner getting their nails done rather than helping him with... actual henchmen things...?

It was... difficult , to say the least. 

Coming to the realization that one could no longer go out on jobs, flanked by his own henchmen. You know, the ones he had meticulously hired, trained, and paid more than living wages for for their less than savory duties half of the time. Hell, even housing and clothing them since they seemed to need it, even despite how much you paid them.

Yet, here Sylus was. Standing alone on the train platform to go home. By himself. In the wind. Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. 

Nice.

It wasn't that it annoyed him particularly badly, no. He had done so many things in his life on his own, you wouldn't be able to count them even if you used all of the fingers of the hands of the men he had culled today, mowed down by the very pistol concealed on the inside of his coat, blocking out the chill of the season. Hell, he was even used to sending the twins home early if he didn't think he needed them for cleanup or anything- benefits of Sylus's evol was it usually didn't leave any traces of blood or carnage… that is, as long as he didn't want it to- So, that being said, he was painfully familiar with working alone.

But there was a stark difference between working alone because you were used to it, and working alone because your partner had been wanting to get their nails done for weeks at a trendy salon near the bad side of Linkon, and your own personal henchmen- you know, the ones you trained and paid for- had decided they would go with your partner to… protect them from the possible thugs lurking around nearby, spending their time daring the other to get their nails done too, without so much as a passing question to their boss about whether or not they were allowed to go.

They'd stopped asking a long time ago.

Somehow, Sylus found himself thinking that was a good thing, as he stepped past passengers and crossed the threshold of the train car. He wasn't entirely sure how he came to that conclusion, but as he stood leaning against one of the grab bars, his phone dinged with a text notification, and it showed him the path easily. He pulled it from his pocket, knowing fully well who it could be, the coat on his shoulder unnecessary to stave off the chill of the season anymore. His heart had been sparked enough to do the job on its own.

And somewhere along the line, it had become less about work- less about protocore auctions, deals gone good and deals gone sour, hitlists that spanned far longer than they should have given how much trust and faith Sylus would try and put into people- and that was because of you, only you- and oftentimes gorey scenes that Sylus had more than become accustomed to himself- and more about... You.

About the way you did things so differently from how he did, the fresh perspective perplexing at first, until he had finally fallen in with the routine. But even still, routine was a term used loosely. There was no routine to you. Maybe he could have a set schedule of when you went to cafes or hung out with your friends and coworkers, but that wasn't what he was referring to. No, his mind was drawn to the strange little things you did, to the way you were infectious to everyone you managed to cross without even realizing it- infectious to the ones that mattered. And only to the ones that would ever matter, whether you realized it or not yet- whether you had met them all or not, yet. 

Infectious in the way that he was looking at three matching nail sets in a photo you had sent in the group chat, the emojis of goofy faces popping up from Luke and then Kieran as they added their wordless two cent commentary to the image. The designs were all slightly different from each other, but a similar theme was apparent on each pair of hands. Red, black, and with a crow painted meticulously on each of your ring fingers. The caption underneath read You can see better in person shortly- we're waiting for you at the end of your line! and it made Sylus's heart warm even more than he would ever admit to anyone but you.

He moved to type.

And how do you know which line I'm taking, sweetie? Which platform are you on- the north, or the south?

The three of you had left far before Sylus had left for his job, and he distinctly remembered that not one of you had asked him where he was even going. Not a care in the world, but he guessed that would be your own undoing someday. Particularly, today- He'd been met with silence for a moment, the dot, dot, dot of texts in progress from all three of you went on painfully long, before you finally broke the silence with the shortest text to be sent after such a long period of time.

There's two of you, split up! You had texted back, not to Sylus, but to the twins, and somehow, Sylus found the act amusing enough that a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. Obviously, the three of you were still next to each other, wherever you had ended up in your search for him. There was no need to send the text when you could speak it out loud. 

But that begged the question of where was the fun in that? Where was the hilarity? If you did things the way they should be done, if any of the three of you did, it would be so much different. It would be so much worse. It wouldn’t be the way that you always handled things- clumsy, chaotic, just a little bit out there with your decisions and actions. Because what of it being harder, or more work, or senseless? It was what made sense to you, and the way you viewed the world was a magic Sylus didn’t know existed prior to meeting you. He wanted to see the way you viewed the world through those beautiful eyes of yours, and he wanted you to show him. He wanted you to show him what it meant to care for the twins and their shenanigans, to cause trouble and find the humor in the smallest things- the little things in life. 

He wanted it all from you. 

Even the weird, chaotic bits.

Sylus truly wouldn't have it, any other way.

[bunny-jpeg]

hi bunny!!! can i submit a request for kevin magnussen? something like a mafia!au where he’s big and scary except for when he’s with reader?💞

kevin magnussen

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, mafia boss!kevin, size difference/kink, doggy style, protective!kevin, reader doesn't know he's mafia, creepy men, mentions of blood and violence, body worship

thank you lovely anon for this idea! i know i usually get bakery submissions, but i do accept other ideas you might have! so this was a pleasant surprise in my inbox!

coming to copenhagen wasn't on your bucket list of dreams. while it was for some, you only took the job because the hours were better. and after a nasty break up only a few months prior, it felt like a good idea to be in another part of the globe. while you missed family, there was something about the unknown that made you pack your belongings (and cat) and head to denmark.

you knew living abroad would have its risks. they were put to rest when you met a tattooed gentleman with the kindest eyes. his name was kevin, kevin magnussen

kevin was an interesting man. you had met him after a blind date fell through and he was at a nearby table by himself. he was waiting for 'friends', but didn't mind spending some time with you. before his 'friends' arrived he ordered you some dessert for after your meal.

he also slipped you a business card and said, "if you need anything in this city, let me know." then smiled at you. the address on the card led to a mechanics shop and kevin told you he owned and "worked" here, but you never saw too many cars come through.

but any questions were met with smiles and promises. you felt a little safer in the city when you were kevin. you one time asked him, "it seems like everyone looks at you when we walk together. or maybe i'm just imagining things."

even though you became accustomed to the public transport of the city. kevin was more than happy to pick you up or drop you off even places like the grocery store. you didn't want to think about all the times he bought you groceries. one time he made you grab another pack of salmon and not to look at the cost. he told you that you can freeze it for a few months. your throat tightened when you saw the price at the check out. but kevin simply paid without a second glance.

maybe you were used to people in your country being paid pennies. you chalked everything up to better wages in denmark.

  “you don't have to pay for things, kevin! really, this job i do pays well enough.” you held onto the front of his zip-up jacket as he carried your groceries back to your apartment. you still didn't know what he saw in you. but, if you couldn't give him the money back, then you'd simply have to keep him smiling. not that it was hard, even your worst jokes made him laugh and wrap his arms around you.

kevin seemed weird, but you found it endearing. when he was all smiles with you, in front of the family he was serious. he could be cold, methodic, dangerous. the light that he brought into your world were the same as the shadows he put into the underbelly of the city. people looked when you went down the street, because it wasn't very often to see him out on the streets. especially with someone so…. cute. 

but, there was something that lingered inside of the danish man you met. kevin saw it with his own two eyes when he entered the bar to meet with you one night. he saw a man at your table trying to chat you up. even with your back turned to kevin, he knew you were uncomfortable. nobody liked unwanted sexual advances.

but you weren't budging giving this man an inch, instead waving him off and eventually he took the cue to leave. but not before he touched you at the small of your back which made you lean away from him in disgust.

kevin saw your mouth move and then take a sip of your drink. at least kevin knew that you could stand up for yourself a little bit. at least enough to get this creep to go away.

eventually he did and when he walked away, kevin followed. no one was touching his girl. you were your own woman of course, you did as you pleased with kevin's support. but, most of the city should've know by now. you were under magnussen protection.

you were too occupied with your drink when the man left for you to notice that kevin had saw the entire thing. and instead of meeting you at your table, he followed the man in the washroom.

kevin wasn't the mechanic he told you he was. the tattoos weren't just from the lifestyle of fixing cars. they all meant something, his past, present and future. his family. his life. the head of an important family in the country. he rolled up his sleeves and the man who was flirting with you noticed him.

"almost done, man." he said as he turned off the tap and shook his hands to dry them. kevin crossed the small bathroom and instantly his fist was in the other man's face. causing him to sprawl out on the tiled floor of the bathroom.

kevin got on one knee down to the other man's level. he grabbed him by the front of the shirt and said, "don't, don't, don't yell." he pulled the bloodied man a little closer, his nose obviously broken, "you're going to leave this place. and you're not going to come back. you do not touch a woman without her permission."

"but i-"

"shh, shh, shh. i saw what you clipped to the back of her pants. a tracker? gps? going to follow her home? kidnap her? sell her? answer me." his voice was firm.

the man looked shaken and bleeding, he was trembling like a leaf at the end of fall. kevin was dangerously close, but didn't want to get blood all over himself. he didn't want you to worry.

"keep yourself out of here. if you don't. not even your dental records will be able to identify you. and if you want a date so badly, stop being a fucking creep." then dropped the man and got up.

the man nodded before he propped himself up against the bottom of the sink. he wiped his bleeding nose and before he could get a word in, kevin was gone.

"min elskede!" kevin's words could be heard and made you look over. you perked up a little bit as your boyfriend sat across from you. you were all smiles now in his presence.

"what happened to your hand?" you asked as you carefully took his hand in yours. you examined the red across his knuckle.

kevin rubbed the top of your head with his other hand, "oh, nothing. i wasn't looking at got it right at the corner of a door. you can kiss it if you want?"

you giggled a little then brought his knuckle to your lips, "what would you do without me, kevin?"

"oh, i don't know. i'd be lost." he smiled back at you.

-

back at your apartment, you were trying to get your socks off. they had little flowers printed on them and were a lovely pair. but it was hard with kevin's lips on your skin.

you squirmed a little and broke the kiss, "please, honey. let me get my clothes off." then burst into giggles when his lips got onto your neck. you ran your fingers through his hair and laughed.

"i can't help it, you're so beautiful." he admitted before he managed to pry himself away from you to let you get undressed. as he undid his button up shirt, he watched you struggle to get out of your jeans and chuckled softly to himself. beautiful little thing you were.

"oh shush." you said as you slipped off your panties, feeling kevin's eyes on you, "i'm alright looking. nothing to write home about."

he took you and pulled him to your chest. he kept those strong arms around you, as if he didn't punch a guy in the face earlier that evening. but, that was simply a part of his life. he had a punch that could kill, but with you. he was so sweet.

eventually you wiggled out of his grasp and got yourself in a further state of undress. soon you naked body was exposed to him and you could feel his hungry gaze on you.

you said as you looked at him, "i'm not a piece of meat, honey."

he reached for you and pulled your naked body next to his. he kissed at your face with such love and said, "of course you're not. you're too important to be meat." then trailed kisses across your body.

you laughed, "oh, c'mon!" you squirmed a little bit and arched your back. your nails rubbed against his scalp. his hips shifted a little bit and his cock rubbed against your thigh.

he knew that if anyone in the family saw him in that moment, they'd think he was a totally different man. the mean boss of the family was reduced to getting head scratches while he worshiped your breasts with his lips.

he said sweet things against you, watching your squirm when his tongue touched your left nipple. he watched your reaction for a moment before he closed his eyes and started to really suck on it. leaving wet trails behind.

his large hands kneaded your breasts and he felt his back arch against you. you felt hot all over and you moaned a little louder. two lovers naked in bed together.

you ran your hands up and down his shoulders, you knew both arms were heavily tattooed. you moaned against his lips before he pulled away and moved away from you. he got you onto your elbows and knees with your ass in the air.

he groped your ass cheek a little bit as he stroked his cock a little bit before he got closer to you once more and rubbed his hard cock up against your slick pussy. he listened to your sweet noises which only excited him more when he slipped his cock in. the angle let him get quite deep inside of you.

"kev!" your back arched a little, "oh. wow! every time." you hit your fist against the bed for a moment. your back arched a little more and you held onto the covers under you.

kevin licked his lips as he kept both hands on you. he loved the feeling of your cunt around his cock. it was his little slice of heaven. all the money from being in the family was something, but to have your sweetness around him made everything feel so much better.

"you're so pretty." he said softly, "you are the most gorgeous thing i had ever laid eyes on. i think about you all day, how much i love you and care for you." he pressed his chest agaisnt your back, then kissed at the back of your shoulders as he rutted against you.

he could feel the pound of his heart as he continued to move against you. his breathing was heavy against your skin as you buried your face into the soft pillows. the pillows he bought for you because you talked so much about how they were just so soft. and you hated to admit that since sleeping with them, your sleeps have improved.

he watched you move a little bit and whine into the covers. you sounded so pretty as he rutted against you. he kissed your shoulders once more.

"please, kev. honey!" you whined.

"you're so beautiful, my love."

his movements continued and the heat in the room grew, especially between the two of you. you could feel the sweat of his chest on your back as he wrapped his arms around you. he kept you close to him as he picked up the pace.

he pushed your further into the bed and worked at your hips. his cock slipped in and out of you perfectly. you were a dream around his cock. the creaking of the bed under you as the two of you made love under the low light of your bedroom.

it was comfortable, it wasn't painful in every way. and it was so good to feel your lover so closely. you panted heavily into the pillows and clutched it tightly. your noises were muffled as he moved. he pressed further into you and knew he wasn't going to last long.

a man capable of such violence was so docile around you. he wanted you so badly. he needed you more than he needed almost anything. his heart sang for you, and when he was away he tried to get home to you as soon as possible.

the dangerous life was common for him, but he didn't want to scare you off. if you knew the truth, would you hate him? would you run away or to the police? would you leave kevin?

he loved you so much, the idea of losing you made him almost scared. he pressed into you as much as he could and fucked you with heavy thrusts. he heard you pant heavily into the covers as he felt the pleasure in his brain.

you whined more as you felt orgasm hit you like a train. you said to your lover, "please, kevin. i love you."

he kissed your cheek and said, "good. because i love you too." then gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you with one final movement of his hips. he came with a groan before he slowed to a stop. he rested his face against your shoulder and just let himself feel you for a moment.

"i love you so much." you groaned.

kevin slipped out of you and laid out beside you. you laid next to him and let him wrap himself up around you. like a protective blanket. he pressed soft kisses against you and melted against your heated skin.

he said with his voice close to your ear, "i promise to protect you forever." then kissed the shell of your ear, "all of my days and all of my nights."

you giggled and turned in his arms, "sounds like you're trying to propose to me." your cheeks warmed at the thought.

he smiled down at you, "maybe, but i'll need a ring first." maybe he'll slowly let you into his world. to be closer to him than ever. he wanted you for a lifetime, to love you was an honour as he kept you in his arms while you both calmed down from your climaxes, "it's a secret for now." he said, "have to give you a little surprise."

you buried your face in his chest and giggled, "oh my god, kevin!" you squirmed a little bit on the bed, "you don't need to propose! really! i'm fine being your girlfriend." the idea of marriage made your cheeks hot!

he held your back and smiled into your hair, "even if it is just a ring, you deserve something nice. and if it is pretty enough then no idiot men at the bar will try to make you uncomfortable." he thought about the tracker he took off of you. being married to you was the end goal, but to protect you was a constant in his mind.

he kissed you, tomorrow he'll go ring shopping before his meetings. it'll be a hard choice to pick the perfect ring, but only the best for you. <3

[traumawhomst]

So Vampires, I won’t lie I love a platonic yandere vampire sire so much.

(1,250 words)

He sees you at your minimum wage job and at first just brushes you off as just another boring human. Then he notices the colors on your bracelet, school colors for a very expensive and exclusive school, a few (human) businesses partners he knew sent their children to that school and none of them worked for minimum wage on their free time. Between the bracelet, the callouses on your hands, and the way your eyes seemed dark and sunken, he knew everything. He left without much thought, telling himself that he didn’t care about some random human and their poor tragic life.

He told himself it was just curiosity when he looked up the current class list, (you can find anything with enough time and money) and found your name. Even in just the school photos you stuck out like a sore thumb, a wildflower in an otherwise perfectly manicured garden. A little further digging revealed you were an amazing student, even if your grades weren’t always perfect. You clearly had talent and a strong work ethic.

It’s just curiosity that makes him dig further, finding your admissions essay, in his office, finding himself smiling at some points, quietly charmed by your choice of words and styling of your essay. It had been a risk that had clearly paid off. He liked those willing to take risks, reminded him of himself when he was younger.

He might as well look further, finding your freelance writing which he poured over in chronological order a growing sense of pride in your progress over the years. Finding your work made him stumble upon your personal life.

Family, but not close, which seemed to be the theme for everyone in it. Did they know about your accomplishments? Did they even care?

He’s not very surprised when he follows you home and sees you living in a studio in an apartment with paper walls, living on a diet of instant noodles and whatever soda was cheapest for that week. How could you study living like this? You seemed to only ever work or study, taking every shift you could just to make enough to afford something a little filling than instant noodles. Surely you’re not at your best, he can’t help but wonder what you could produce given proper resources.

His colleagues laugh when he defends it all as just curiosity, and he decides to approach you in person to finally get over this little, inquiry to rest.

But you look so tired when you smile at him, you’re trying so hard to maintain the smile and he’s wondering when the last time you smiled and he realizes then, as he nods along to your explanation about whatever item he picked up, that he hadn’t seen you smile once in a week of watching you.

He could smell your blood and did his best to hide the scrunching of his nose. Wildly anemic and deficient in every vitamin and mineral that a human needed to stay upright. It set him on edge, wondering about the strain on your body it must have. Humans were so fragile already, how long could you live like this?

The thought of you dying sent a bolt of panic through him. You were young, talented, and hardworking you deserved time to flourish and grow.

It would take a few months for all the necessary paperwork to be complete and in that time he slowly builds a sort of friendship with you.

On your end an older man, (whose eye color you could never remember) started to come in at least once a week. He was sweet in a way you hadn’t expected, happy to talk about any book he or you had brought. That’s when you really noticed him, when he came in holding your favorite book. He hadn’t read it yet, and was happy to hear your small preview and talk about the major themes in it. He always managed to come in when it was slow and for some reason no one ever approached you when you two talked.

He’d said he owned a bookstore, (more than one you imagined from the amount of first editions he causally walked around with) but was visiting here for business. He told you that when you refused to take one of his very expensive first edition he tried to give you. He only relented when you explained that your apartment was rather damp and you knew that it would only degrade the book over time. Next week he showed up with the newest edition, and refused to leave with it. Really you’re doing him a favor, he’d love to hear your thoughts on it.

He wasn’t scary either, he always had this air about him that was calming. Something that made you relax and trust him, and in the few months you met him he’d never done anything make you doubt your trust in him.

He’d brought you a book to read with an immortal character in it, and asked what you’d ever take the chance if offered. The thought of being stuck in your life forever or any life really made you sick to your stomach. No you’d rather accept that your life would be finite and told him you thought life would be meaningless if you were immortal.

And for the first time, something new quickly twitch across his face. Anger? Disappointment? After months of friendly banter and discussion it was almost a slap in the face of the reality of it all. You didn’t know him, or his motives. The look only lasts a moment, before shifting to his pleasant neutral again, but you still saw it. You pretended for the rest of the conversation until he leaves. You request to a new work schedule when you finished for the day.

He on the other hand was practically spinning about it. He should have been ready for this sort of answer, but he wasn’t. He’d had the conversation played a million times in his head, and you always agreed on it being a gift. He rationalized that you simply couldn’t understand it, given time you could be persuaded to see differently.

He showed up, ready to talk with you only to find out (through a heavy layer of compulsion) that you’d changed your hours to avoid Him. Time to move forward with the plan it seemed.

He found you one late night as you walked to your apartment and something about him made the hairs on the back of your neck stand-up.

He offered to walk you home, and you finally put your foot down and told him to leave you alone, as politely as you could muster. But you couldn’t seem to actually speak any of the words. What were you trying to say again?

He happily chatters on about how excited he is to show you your home, one arm around you steering you to some place you didn’t recognize. But every time you tried to say something you’d forget a little more of what was going on.

He didn’t really want it to do it this way, he told himself as he guides you in the deep state of compulsion you’re in. He wanted to win you over with the idea, to gladly accept his offer, to see it as the gift it was. But he could also admit to himself watching you try and fight the compulsion and fail, it was adorable to see the stubbornness that you had, it’d serve you well in your new life.

[uwupaige]

the nanny [paige bueckers] part 1

chapter one: snooze.

"shit, shit, shit." was all that could be heard from catherine's bedroom. the chirps of her alarm ringing bounced off of her cream colored walls, with the light of the morning sun, shining perfectly against them. that, and sound of her literally jumping out of her messy bed and making a run for her bathroom were all that filled her senses, not even a moment to bask in the morning glow.

she didn't have any time to. the alarm on her phone, titled, "leave now!" was currently screaming at her, and the girl was just barely making it out of bed.

this was probably catherine's third time being late for work this week, and it was only friday. working long nights at vynil, catherine was lucky to get in 4 hours of sleep. quickly brushing her teeth, catherine went to brush her hair into a  low ponytail. the girl was so relieved to find she had straightened her hair a few days prior. easy hair was what she called it. for weeks like this, when she worked both of her jobs back to back and didn't have time to style it every morning or night.

working two jobs could be a lot at times, but until she finished school, there was no way she would find a job that paid a livable wage. any and all positions she came across all wanted a masters degree and forty-three years experience. and school was already taking a long ass time, too. especially since she was one of the few teenagers that fell for the gap year trope. her gap year took about 2 and a half years, and now, she is just barely starting her bachelor's degree. those thoughts normally consumed her, though she tried to push them far down. all they would do is slow her down.

catherine's days all mushed together. work, school, work, and sleep, if that. however, she would often find the beauty in them. how lucky she was to have the middle of her day off and to herself. and on the rare off chance she was caught up on school work, she would be apple to sit on the porch of her apartment, doing whatever she wanted. a lot of the time, she would find herself daydreaming on that porch. what kind of life she would live if she was privileged in the way that other rich people are—

beep! beep! beep!

catherine's alarm sang to the girl once more from her room. only informing catherine that not only was she late, but now she was extremely late. she sighs, leaving her bathroom to grab her phone from her messy bed, that she decided would be okay to fix later, and turning it off as soon as possible. the sound of her alarm made her skin crawl and her eye twitch.

not bothering to put on any makeup at this point, catherine just grabbed her dented purse and the keys to her 2008, red honda civic, before kissing the top of her cats head goodbye, wiping off any grey furs that tried to leave with her, and ultimately rushing to her shift at 'snooze'.

˚✧.*

catherine tried her best to slip into the breakfast cafe, barely just missing the hostesses eye, but unfortunately, not missing the manager. she was almost to her locker, almost to the final stretch, when she heard the familiar voice of adam—the manager. a man in his forties, scruffy looking, not very tall, who had been there since he was in his twenties. but not only was he a manager, he was the one who made the schedule. so he definitely knew exactly when she was supposed to be strolling into work this morning. and it was not right now.

"kitty cat." came the singy-songy voice of her middle aged, out of shape, manager, adam, a clipboard firm in his hands as he walked through the break room, his sneakers squeaking horrible against the tile. catherine reluctantly looked up, meeting his odd smile. everyone who worked there—matter of fact, anyone who met him—knew his cheerfulness was just plain pretend. "did you sleep well? it looks like we're.." he pauses to look down at his new smart-watch, "twenty-seven minutes late today." he says, seriously dramatizing the twenty-seven.

"better than the 32 minutes on monday.. and yes, i slept great." catherine replied with whit and a smile as she shrugged off her purse and began to open her metal locker. scrolling through the numbers on her lock, adam continued on his speech he prepared for her the minute the clock striked 7:31 a.m. and she was declared late.

"you know, we have a strict policy—here at snooze—about tardiness, as we talked to you about earlier this week with your first two infractions."

catherine wanted to do nothing more than dramatically roll her eyes, huff and puff loudly and yell boring! in his face.

but alas, she bites her tongue. sorta.

"i understand, adam," catherine turns to the man, eye level with her, slight bitterness in her voice, "but there was only one table sat when i walked in, and julie was already serving them." catherine defended herself. yes, she was more than aware that her being this late was not acceptable, and wouldn't be accepted at all in many other fields. however, she would've been stuck with nothing to do until it was lunch hour. that is if she wasn't cut before then because they were so slow. "and, i told you when you hired me that i could only work the lunch shifts, because i work super late at vinyl." vinyl was the night club she bartended at. matter of fact, she had another shift there tonight. unfortunately, though, being a bartender doesn't pay the bills the way it used to. "and now this," she gestures to the both of them, "is an issue that we're having."

adam shifts the clipboard in his hands to rest between his armpit and torso, clasping his hands together dramatically in front of him. he looks down at the ground, as if to collect his thoughts, before loudly announcing, "i think that snooze a.m. eatery is not the best fit for you at the moment, and your role could be filled with someone more prompt. please understand that your shifts at this restaurant are here by extinct for the foreseeable future. your last check will be mailed."

thinking about that last conversation with her manager is still making catherine groan, even a couple hours later, as she helplessly scrolls on job sites. she'd been sitting on her small, light grey couch, scrolling on her laptop for at least half an hour, and nothing was peaking her interest. something was always wrong. perfect hours, horrible pay. or, the best pay she's ever seen, but she'd basically have to drop out. she was about to yell in frustration when her phone began to ring viciously into her earbuds. looking down, she saw it was an incoming call from her best friend. well— her only friend.

pulling her earbuds out by the cord from both her phone and her ears, catherine answered the phone call, immediately hitting speaker phone. "hi mama, what's up?" she spoke aloud, resting her phone on her knee as she kept scrolling.

"just read your text. how're you feeling?" the girl on the other end spoke. it sounded like she was in a car. she was probably on her way to her cute, corporate 10-6 job, which is what she so lovingly dubbed it.

catherine sighed, shaking her head even though no one could see. "like i need to find my own cute, corporate 10-6 job." she jokes, the girl on the line giggling with her. "molly, i don't know what to do. snooze worked out the best with my schedule, and with school. i'm at a loss." catherine confided in her. "nothings peaking my interest."

molly goes straight into problem solving mode, a trait catherine noticed about her when they met their first year of high school in club soccer. molly did work in HR, after all. so, problem solving was kind of her niche. "what aren't you liking about the jobs you're coming across right now?"

"the hours don't work, the pay is shitty, or a combination of both."

"hmm..." the girl on the other end hummed, catherine taking this as her thinking, and thinking deeply. "what about a clothing store? most close before 9, so it won't get in the way of your hours at the club."

"if you hadn't noticed, we're in the middle of a recession, and it's slow season for retail. no one's hiring." catherine responded. and if molly didn't know catherine the way she did, she would've been offended by her tone.

"then maybe you should finish school so you can get a cute, corporate 10-6 job like other people your age." molly replied without hesitation, matching, if not exceeding, her best friends energy.

catherine groans, "mo!" she sighs out a laugh, shuffling in her spot on her couch, going to take her blanket off, feeling a little toasty. molly's evil laughs are the only thing she can hear from the other end. "how embarrassing is it being a 23 year old college student, working two jobs, while everyone else your age is starting their careers, getting married, and having children?"

there's silence before molly speaks again, the sound of her blinker being the only audible noise for her phone to pick up, "like.. a seven outta ten embarrassing."

"you're the worst."

laughing once more, molly says, "hey, you were almost married if it makes you feel any better?"

"thinking about my cheating ex isn't exactly making me feel any better. all i ever see are posts of the two of them."

"social media is nefarious. none of what you're seeing is real," molly explains before she racks her brain for other possible jobs that catherine should consider looking at. "ever thought about childcare?" she loosely and hesitantly throws out the idea.

"jeez, is that what it's come to?"

"i think so, cat... i mean, maybe you could even go back to coaching soccer?"

catherine begins to search for childcare positions in her area through her job search engine. "that was volunteer work, babe.." catherine reminded as she scrolled. "woah. soo many people are hiring."

"mhm. a personal nanny is more affordable than daycare's nowadays. or just as much, but with better care." molly informs, catherine smiling at her best friend through the phone. she always admired how intelligent she was. molly was extremely book smart, the logical sense in catherine's life.

"oh, this one says, 'urgently looking for a nanny in Storrs," catherine reads, sounding enthusiastic at first, her tone then dropping, sighing. "must be flexible... they want two hours in the morning, school drop off and pick up, and evening care... until 11pm?!" she continued to read out loud to her best friend. she was about to click off, appalled at the thought, but luckily, molly interrupted her actions.

"well how much are they paying? if it's enough, you might not even need to work at the club anymore."

"dunno.." catherine mumbles as she scrolls down to the bottom of the description, her eye scanning to look for the hourly rate, and.. "0h, shit."

˚✧.*

"catherine sanchez.. sounds legit, right?"

"kk, you've gotta read their application first, bro."

paige sat at the dark grey couch of her brand new apartment, her daughter present on her lap, curled up against her side as she overheard her teammates begin to bicker at her marble kitchen counter, seated comfortably at her island stools.

"yo, where is that babysitter at, we've gotta go." azzi stressed, getting up from her spot at the island to begin her pace around the main area of the spacious apartment. they all had a game in a couple of hours, and they needed to leave, like yesterday.

"you'll live." kk responded, which just sparked another argument between the two.

the blonde just threw her head back against the sofa, eyes closed, looking for even a moment of calm. however, the bounce of the curly headed girl in her lap was making that nearly impossible. paige just held the girl closer to her and began to rub her back, hoping that would start to calm her. "will you both shut up and give me my phone back?" an annoyed paige interrupted the bickering with a plain voice, her eyes still closed, still searching for calm.

azzi rolls her eyes, grabbing the phone quickly from the girl beside her, walking it over to her best friend. she's about to hand it over to paige, but ultimately retreating the phone back into her possession, "only if you explain." azzi gestures towards both paige and her daughter. kk wasn't far behind her, soon taking the same stance as azzi, wanting answers as well.

opening her eyes and picking up her head, paige's face contorted as she sorta cringed at how serious her best friends were being. "you guys are acting like you didn't know."

"i thought she was with your parents?" kk inquired, quickly falling out of her stance with azzi, opting to slump onto the same couch paige and her daughter resided on, immediately reaching to take the little girl from paige's lap. kk was quietly throwing out baby babble to the 5 year old, instantly making her giggle. she was about to have a field day with this.

"my dad is, uh, trying to get back into work more seriously." the blonde explained as simply as possible for the two, "and he thinks i'm ready to take of her on my own, now..." paige sighs again, "but i can't be mad at him, you know."

"i mean, a little notice would've been a teeny bit helpful." kk spoke up from her baby babbling, but quickly returning.

"oh yeah. three days—so much preparation time." azzi agreed.

"i don't need notice to take care of my daughter. besides, they've spent enough time raising her... my dad's right." paige sighs, a hand running over her face.

azzi frowns for her, sitting down next to her. she hands paige her phone, "look," she says, softly, "someone finally applied." the girl did what she could to comfort her best friend, but to almost no avail. she made eye contact with kk, both sharing a concerned look. they were worried for their friend. when paige called them earlier that day for help, this isn't exactly what they expected. helping their friend find a nanny for her daughter, that is. "you're gonna find someone great to care for madison."

"amazing name choice, by the way," kk snorts, cutting in the middle of azzi's comfort speech. paige goes to fake punch her, kk just holding madison in front of her as the ultimate shield. "what's her middle name? paige?"

azzi unapologetically laughs at that, paige playfully shoving her.

"i was literally only 18," paige defends, and laugh following her words. she couldn't help but find their humor to be comforting.

madison moving in with paige was never the problem, it would never be a problem, but it all happened so fast. after paige got pregnant her senior year of high school, her dad and step mom wanted to take care of madison while paige was away at college. she was just beginning her career, her name out there. she had so much potential. they wanted to support her unconditionally, and believed this would be the best way.

however, they grew increasingly tired as the days went by. at the time, they were still in an understanding that paige would only be gone for those 4 years at uconn, then would return home to minnesota and be in madison's life. however, after paige made the decision to stay in connecticut for another year at uconn, her parents had a serious talk with her. she needed to step up. she could finally start providing for her daughter in ways she couldn't when she was 18. and she needed to do just that.

paige wanted to. more than anything.

nonetheless, she was still so scared. she gave birth to madison a couple days after graduation, managing to hide it from her whole school her senior year, only her family knowing. it wasn't long until paige was sent off to uconn though, having to say goodbye to her daughter for months at a time. it was really hard. all she would think about what madison. she called everyday, but it would never be the same as actually being there. when paige would come home for holidays or breaks, madison would be really nervous around her, hiding behind paige's dad or step mom. it wasn't until paige would go home for long summer breaks that madison would finally get used to her. and she always only called her paige, though. never mom.

and as for madison's dad? it's a topic of conversation that's not up for debate with paige.

"paige," azzi shakes paige out of her thoughts, paige blinking a few times to return to the moment.

"yeah?"

"read her application." azzi encourages once more, pointing at the phone in her hand, "she's the only one who's applied so far."

"because no one wants to work until midnight and then have to be up and back at 7 the next day," paige sighs. her basketball schedule was the only reason she needed the extra help. practice was at any time ever, and games were multiple times a week, going on for a hours.

"catherine sanchez..." paige reads before opening up her application.

moments later, the door bell is ringing.

they open it to reveal the last minute babysitter paige had hired for the night. grabbing their things quickly, and each kissing madison goodbye. they left, but not before paige could remind the babysitter to, "text me if anything. please."

the nanny master list

authors note!

yay first chapter! this was just a lot of needed backstory. chapter two is when the paige interactions begin ;)

also, if you want more frequent updates, my wattpad (@uwupaige) gets like 3 new chapters every week

thank you for reading!🩷

- mari 🫧

3k words.

[davidchiemcore]

started thinking about how much money each of the characters likely makes

(DRDT SPOILERS AHEAD - for character and story backgrounds)

basic information I'm going off of: drdtdev stated that everyone except Teruko and Min make their living from their talent. the hope's peak academy they attend is located in the US, and they're specifically part of the east class, so implying its somewhere on the eastern side of the us. While they don't have to live where the school is, there is a western branch of Hope's Peak, so the fact that they attend the eastern branch suggests that they're closer to that side. The series takes place sometime in the future, but given the world had a major tragedy and seems to be on the same level as the world we live in, I'm gonna assume inflation is roughly the same as now

teruko: She does mention having to choose between rent and food, meaning she makes some sort of money, and enough to rent a place at times. I assume she works some sort of minimum wage job, given she doesn't have full schooling experience. a lot of the eastern us has minimum wage at 7.25, but places in the northeast have it a bit higher, from 10-15. If she earned something like 13 dollars an hour, worked 40 hours a week, and worked every week, she would make around 27k. However, with her bad luck and lack of legal documents as mentioned when she talks about her schooling, I assume she probably loses jobs quite frequently. Assuming she's unemployed for about a fourth of the year, she would' earn roughly 20k

xander: This one confuses me a bit. He's basically an activist, so I'm not sure what kind of job he would have consistently. Additionally, he lived in the UK from at least age 14 until he started attending Hope's Peak, so I had to look for jobs there. Looking it up, it seems that the pay ranges from 23k-49k, averaging at 33k (all in pounds). Converting that, the average salary would be 43-44k. He's living with no family, and who were poor enough to likely not leave anything behind, so he probably has to work a lot to pay for his overseas school. However, he did do school at the same time, so I'll take 3/4s of the total salary to give him 33k a year.

charles: Given that being even an entry-level chemist requires at least a four year degree, I assume he may work as an assistant to one at the moment. They still make quite a bit of money, however, most making 37k-49k a year. The average is 49k, but there's a chunk of outliers around 82k, mostly from California, which is in the western US. Therefore, I think it's reasonable to suggest he makes something in the middle of the range I gave, giving him a salary of 43k. However, given that he was likely doing school at the same time and has parents to support him, who also seemed to shelter him a lot, he likely works part time. For part time, I'll cut the salary by half and say he probably earns 22k a year.

ace: Horse jockeys get paid per race, both for winning and participating, so this is a little harder to calculate. Most horse jockeys earn 53k-67k, but given that Ace is the Ultimate Jockey, this is a job where being skilled can really help you rise in the ranks, both of how much you can charge, and how often you win. It's also something that he could reasonably have a couple years of experience in given that they only need to be 16 years old to start professionally racing. Therefore, I would put him at the high end of the average or maybe even higher. I'll estimate 70k per year. Many horse jockeys drop out of school to focus on their job, so I'll leave him at that.

arei: This is also a little harder to calculate, because while you can bowl at any age, you can only join the Professional Bowlers Association once you turn 18. However, she could still compete for prizes in PBA Jr. and other smaller competitions. This year's PBA Jr. Competition gave 10k in scholarship money, but most competitions have at most a couple thousand dollars as the top reward, so I'll estimate she might make about 12k in a year? However, she lives with family still, so this is probably fine for her.

rose: rose is stated to have earned several millions doing forgery, so her previous salary would've been incredible. However, now she just does recreations of other paintings. None of the money goes to her, but if we still want to calculate it, the average reproduction artist earns 46k a year.

hu: I assume she likely does small venues where she plays the zither. According to a reddit post, the average earnings for a gig for a small musician is around $230, and assuming she does an average of one a week (some weeks she might do more, some weeks she might not do any), she'd earn about 12k a year.

eden: Eden is stated to both do clock making and clock repair. Most clock repairers make 36k-44k a year, averaging to 40k, and the average clock maker earns about 40k a year as well. She says that she can work 14 hours without breaks, implying she has some very long work days, possibly putting her slightly above the average at 42k.

levi: At first i thought Levi would make a lot because personal stylists sound like a rich people thing? But looking into it the average salary in the US ranges from 34k-50k a year, and since he states that he's relatively new to the field, he probably leans to the lower end of that. im gonna put him at 36k? He lives alone, so he likely works full time to pay for his living conditions.

arturo: Similar to Charles, he likely doesn't perform his actual job yet regularly. Half of all plastic surgeon assistants make somewhere between 22k-56k a year, with the halfway point at 37k. The median amount is around 44k. Given that he was likely working part-time, as he was probably in school at the same time, I'll cut that in half to give him a salary of 22k per year.

min: It's stated that her schooling up until this point was paid for by the spurling foundation, so i assume either the same is the case for her time in college, or her parents were able to save a lot of money to pay for it. Given this and how much time she puts into school, i assume she doesn't have a job.

david: This was a hard one to calculate. The average motivational speaker (I know he's called an inspirational speaker but in this case they're interchangeable) can make anything from 500 to 30k per speech, depending on their experience and skill. We know David is a well-known celebrity, being famous worldwide, but it's not to the degree that everyone in the class is shocked by his appearance, just Xander. If he work to make 10k a speech, and do one speech every two months, he'd be making 60k a year. In addition to this, many speakers have alternate sources of income, like book and channels. He's not stated to have these, but I'd assume he at least does smaller talks, maybe giving him another 10k a year?? As he's paid per speech, this doesn't require a lot of hours, so he probably is able to make full pay while also going to class. I'm not sure if this is a super accurate salary, but it's hard to get a gauge on it, so I'm going with 70k a year.

veronika: How does one make money as a horror fanatic? She mentions being a scholar in her field, so maybe she writes papers and small books on the subject. However, I'm a personal fan of the "deep dive youtuber" theory, so I'll calculate for both. For scientific papers, you can earn from a few hundred to a few thousand per paper. Given this kind of stuff takes at least a couple months of research, I'd say she would only make a few thousand a year. Maybe 10k if I'm being generous and giving her a 2k article every other month? Now, for the other idea, youtubers make about 2.5-7.5 dollars per thousand views on a video. If she gets an average of 800k views per video (with a couple million on some and a few hundred thousand on some), and makes 5 dollars per thousand, she'd be getting about 4k per video. Again, if she puts out a video every other month, this would be getting her 20k.

j: Special Effects artists make anywhere from 44k to 86k a year. The average is 68k, but most make either a bit more or a bit less, and given J's influence from her mother, I'd assume she's in the higher range. The highest category is 23% of people making 78k-86k, so I'll give her 80k. I'm not sure about whether she'd work fulltime or part time, because she definitely has the money to work part time because of her mother, but she might also try to make all her own money herself to spite her? I'm leaning that she works part time, so if I cut that in half she still makes 40k a year.

whit: The average professional matchmaker makes 42k-46k a year. The average is a clean 44k a year. Again, I'm not sure if he'd work part time or full time because we don't know much about his living situation. It's possible he needs to help support his single dad, so I'll put him at 3/4s of that, 33k.

nico: Most animal behavior specialists, which is what Nico says they are in their conversation with Xander, make 46k-53k a year, with an median of 48k. However, given they don't have a degree yet, I'll assume they make on the lower end of that, so 46k. They mention going to school, so they likely work part time, cutting that in half to give them a salary of 26k.

if anyone read this far thank you this took me like three hours HAHA

[alicentlander]

first meetings (part one)

homelander x oc

summary: a new intern starting at vought catches homelander’s attention.

author’s note: kinda softer compared to what i usually write… this was really just meant as an excuse to write out oc lore in a fic and give these two background lol

Working at Vought was almost like a dream come true.

Only almost because in her dream world, Mia would’ve had an office on the 99th floor with diplomas of higher education hanging proudly on her walls. Able to dress in fancy blouses and skirts and dresses everyday with overpriced jewelry. Able to walk around New York without having to worry about how she was going to pay for her next meal. Hell, maybe she’d be able to hire her own personal chef. God know she can barely cook more than ramen noodles like the poor and sleep deprived college student she was.

In her dream world, she would get to work with the Seven - with Homelander. As a fully mature woman, not some stupid, clumsy college girl.

But unfortunately, she lived in the real world.

Still, an internship was far better than nothing. Sure, she’s just a college student and is barely getting paid more than minimum wage and probably won’t do anything more exciting than fetch people’s coffees, but it would look damn good on a résumé.

Plus, even if she wasn’t working directly with Homelander, she was still in the same building as him! How many of her friends could say that? Exactly, none.

Walking into her first day of work, she felt extremely underdressed being in a light pink sweater and jeans she got from a store down the street from her shitty little apartment with a pearl necklace that had a little heart charm attached to it.

But she was in a good mood today. Good enough of a mood to ignore the obviously condescending comment by her supervisor, Ashley, about how adorable she looked, while the older woman looked at her outfit was clear disapproval.

“Mia Cormac… So, you’re a sophomore in college, right?” Ashley asked, looking at Mia’s profile as they walked the bustling halls of Vought Tower.

“Just finished my freshman year,” Mia answered, fidgeting with the ring on her index finger. “4.0 gpa.”

“And it says here you want to go to law school after you graduate?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s bold,” Ashley turned around to face her and Mia had to admit she was impressed with how Ashley was able to talk, walk backwards in heels, and look at her tablet all at the same time. “Bold is good here! I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

Mia forced a smile and nodded, taking the time to look at her surroundings as Ashley explained her duties and how things worked around here. Taking coffee orders, scheduling meetings, the occasional job shadowing of higher ups - all that stuff.

Vought Tower was just so big. She felt like she could get lost in here for days - maybe even months.

“You know, sometimes interns get to shadow members of the Seven!” Ashley told her excitedly, “of course that requires over 300 hours put in, a recommendations from a supervisor, typically not missing a single day of work-”

“A member of the Seven?” Mia perked up, “you mean… I could shadow Homelander for a day?”

Ashley’s smile immediately fell and her shoulders visibly tensed up. But just as quickly as it was gone, that overly fake smile was planted back on her face.

“Homelander‘s usually too busy for that sort of stuff. Being leader of the Seven,” she told Mia, “it’s usually The Deep, Translucent, or A-Train. Maybe Maeve, if she’s in a good enough mood. Black Noir used to do them too, but he kind of freaked some of the interns out, so it’s been a while since we had interns follow him.”

“Ahh…”

Mia tried to hide her clear disappointment.

Maeve wouldn’t be bad to follow around, but the other three? Mia didn’t have anything against them, of course. They were heroes, after all and deserved nothing less than the utmost respect. But… everyone had their favorite heroes, right? Her’s just happened to not be them.

“They’re great! Everyone here is so great!” Ashley was quick to add. Why does everything out of her mouth sound so forced? “But again, getting to shadow one of them is rare. Like, really, really rare.”

Now it was Mia’s turn to fake a smile and nod as Ashley blabbered on.

“Okay, well, you know where my office is if you need me. For now, head up to the 62nd floor. There’s a board meeting happening and they need someone to get their lunch orders,” Ashley began walking away, but then turned around to add, “I’m just going to warn you now, but if you fuck up even one detail, get one person’s favorite sauce wrong, and your internship will be over before it even begins.”

“…alrighty then…” Mia said mostly to herself since Ashley was already on her way down the hall.

Mia sighed, hitting the elevator button and stepping inside. She stared at the many buttons on the inside, almost tempted to hit the one for the 99th floor just to see what would happen. Would it even work? She felt like it would be the same thing as trying to take an elevator to Mt. Olympus or something.

She resisted the urge, hitting the one for the 62nd floor like she was supposed. It would not do well for her to be fucking around on her first day of work, after all. Especially with how… demanding it seemed to be.

She stood alone in the elevator, hands resting in front of her until the elevator stopped on the 25th floor. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, not particularly in the mood for conversation.

Until she glanced stripped red and white fabric out of the corner of her eye. Her breath hitched slightly.

There was no fucking way…

Still keeping her eyes trained as low as she could while still getting a good view, she almost collapsed.

Homelander was right there. Next to her. Alone in an elevator.

This felt exactly like the setup of several explicit dreams she had had before. The memories made her cheeks heat up, almost red enough to match her curly hair.

Should she say something? What do you even say to the greatest hero ever? She’d probably end up embarrassing herself, but-

“I’m guessing that you're new here?” Homelander’s voice cut through her thoughts, a hint of amusement lacing it.

Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod he’s actually speaking to me.

“Yes,” her voice cracked so badly she felt like a part of her died inside. She quickly cleared her throat, “y-yes, sir. I-I just started today. Internship. For college. I’m, umm, Mia. Mia Cormac.”

Homelander chuckled and oh she felt like her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

“Well,” he held out his hand and she shakily, but eagerly took it, “it’s so nice to meet you, Mia Cormac.”

“Y-yeah. You too,” she swallowed. She thought for a few seconds to decide if she wanted to keep talking and against her better judgement, she decided to speak sons more, “I-I don’t want to seem like some sort of deranged super fan or whatever, but… I just want to say I… admire and respect you so much, sir. What you do is just… amazing. You… you’re my favorite hero. Really.” She was internally kicking herself. Sounding like a deranged super fan? There had definitely been more insane people than her when meeting their idol. Sounding like a lovesick puppy, however? Yeah… She swallowed, “…sorry.”

But to her surprise instead of calling her a freak, Homelander smiled at her. Actually smiled.

There was heat building up somewhere else besides her face now.

The elevator suddenly dinged, signaling their arrival to the 62nd floor. She didn’t know if she was grateful or angry with it.

“W-well, this is my stop. I-it was a pleasure meeting you… sir,” she said. But as she stepped out of the elevator, a gloved hand gently wrapped itself around her wrist.

Her eyes were wide as she looked back at Homelander who was still smiling at her. Though, there was a hint of something a bit more then friendliness in it, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

“Mia,” he said, almost sounding like he was savoring the taste of her name on his lips, “I really do hope to see you around.”

He let go of her and the elevator closed as he stepped back inside before she could respond.

Mia took a minute to catch her breath, looking around the hallway. Everyone walked by like it was just a normal day. As if Homelander hadn’t just talked to her - hadn’t just touched her! Her - a mere mortal.

She hadn’t believed in God since she was 14, but she had more or less been convinced since soon after that belief had developed that Homelander was the closest thing this universe would ever have to a god.

And he wanted to see her again.

She let out another shaky breath, rushing to find the meeting room she was supposed to go to. She didn’t have time to be giddy about all this. If she hadn’t been encouraged to not fuck up before, now failure - cliché as it may sound - was absolutely not an option. Not if she wanted to cling onto that hope of ever seeing or talking to him again.

[mariacallous]

Last December, Mahesh Odedara signed a contract to live and work for five years in a foreign country thousands of miles away from home and mired in a state of war. Odedara, a 30-year-old farmer from Porbandar, a city in western India, was aware of the risks of working on an Israeli farm. But Odedara’s contract promised him a steady, eight-hour workday, robust workers’ rights under Israeli law, and a 5,571 shekel ($1,500) monthly salary—many times more than what Odedara earned in Porbandar. It was too good to turn down.

Israeli farms are in dire need of agricultural workers like Odedara. Following Hamas’s Oct. 7 attack, the Israeli government barred tens of thousands of Palestinian laborers, a critical component of Israel’s agricultural workforce, from entering the country. By early winter, farms were facing a “manpower crisis.” With no sign of government policy changing, farmers have since turned to importing thousands of foreign laborers from countries such as India, Malawi, and Sri Lanka to stay afloat.

At first, Odedara’s expectations were high. With his newfound salary, he would be able to send home hundreds of dollars each month to support his parents; the money could also go toward purchasing equipment for the family farm. One day, Odedara hoped, he might even be able to buy a home for himself in Porbandar.

But soon after arriving in Israel, Odedara realized that his employers had little intention of honoring his contract. In Ahituv, a farming community in northern Israel, Odedara worked grueling, 11- to 12-hour shifts picking produce; he was forced to work on weekends and was told he would be paid far below the legal hourly minimum wage. Then, at the end of the month, he was not paid at all—Odedara’s boss informed him that his wages had been sent, inexplicably, to his employment agency instead.

(When reached for comment, Odedara’s former employer denied that Odedara had ever worked for him; however, another migrant worker who independently mentioned working for the same employer corroborated Odedara’s claims about labor conditions and missing wages. The employment agency did not respond to a request for comment.)

Odedara’s housing, which farms provide for their workers, also bordered on the uninhabitable. In Khatsav, where Odedara worked for eight days, he slept in a makeshift room erected out of wooden planks and panes of sheet metal; his bathroom was a toilet in an outdoor shack with a dirt floor, and the shower had no hot water. In the first few months, Odedara lost nearly 25 pounds.

Odedara now “really regrets” coming to Israel, he said, even though he counts as one of the lucky ones: Odedara’s brother, Bharat, had already worked in Israel as a caregiver for four years and was eventually able to find him a job at a farm with far better labor conditions.

Yet Odedara’s experiences in Ahituv and Khatsav are far from unique. According to Bharat, abuse and illegal labor practices are widespread. “I used to meet all the new people coming in for agriculture. I was talking to them, and everyone has the same problem,” Bharat said. “They have to fight for their salary, for their rights, for their basic requirements. Nobody is helping them. They are helpless.”

Farming is fundamental to Israel’s national identity, yet the country’s agricultural sector has been reliant on non-Israeli labor for decades. In 1967, after Israel captured the West Bank and Gaza, the government decided to integrate the territories’ residents into the Israeli economy. Since then, “Palestinians have been integral to the Israeli labor force,” said Adriana Kemp, a sociologist at Tel Aviv University who studies Israeli labor. “You could not talk about whole sectors like agriculture or construction without talking about this large number of Palestinians.”

By the 1990s—following spates of violence from Palestinian militants—Israel began “talking about the possibility of opening the gate for overseas labor migrants,” Kemp said. “That’s when they started actually bringing [in workers] from different countries.” But even so, Palestinians stayed in large numbers; in 2021, tens of thousands of Palestinian laborers made up a quarter of Israel’s total agricultural workforce.

Then came Oct. 7. Claiming that agricultural workers from Gaza had provided intelligence to Hamas fighters, the Israeli government barred some 20,000 Palestinian agricultural laborers from reentering the country. (Israel’s internal security service has since partially disputed this finding.) Around the same time, some 7,800 Thai workers, previously the largest population of overseas workers in Israel due to a 2012 Israeli-Thai bilateral agreement, fled after at least 39 of them were killed in the Hamas attack.

Almost overnight, the agricultural sector lost over a third of its entire foreign workforce. In the early weeks of the war, even though Israeli volunteers stepped in to help struggling farmers, farms hemorrhaged profits. By November, to replenish the labor force, the Israeli government announced that it would allow up to 5,000 overseas workers into the country via a new immigration scheme.

When Orit Ronen heard about the scheme, her immediate thought was that it would lead to “one big balagan”—Hebrew for a “chaotic mess.” Ronen, who works at Kav LaOved, a Tel Aviv-based labor rights nonprofit, was acutely aware of how vulnerable the new arrivals would be, given existing exploitation. Ronen also knew that many farms lacked sufficient infrastructure to house workers, since the farms’ previous Palestinian laborers had simply commuted in from the West Bank or Gaza.

Ronen was right to worry. Since early December, when thousands of new laborers began arriving in Israel, Kav LaOved has received more than 300 requests for information and assistance from workers reporting a litany of abuse. The conditions Odedara and others have experienced are blatantly illegal under Israeli labor law. But ever since the Oct. 7 attack, labor law enforcement has been “less than before,” Ronen said. “And even before, it was low.”

The Population and Immigration Authority (PIBA), the Israeli government agency tasked with labor law enforcement, did not respond to requests for interview. “We have the call center for foreign workers, where they can explain exactly the problem, and they will be checked,” PIBA spokesperson Sabine Haddad wrote in an email.

Migrant workers also often hesitate to contact PIBA’s call center for fear of retaliation; employers “are telling [workers] that we will send you back to India if you will not work as we say,” Bharat said. Employers “can’t do that. I know that, but [the workers] don’t. They are new.” (Israeli law allows workers to stay in the country for 90 days to find a new employer if they have been fired.)

The threat of deportation is especially potent because most workers are effectively stranded in Israel for the duration of their five-year contracts, thanks to the outsized fees they paid before departing for Israel. In Odedara’s case, an agent in India asked him for $6,300 in an under-the-table payment, which he paid for with his family’s savings.

These fees are not a new phenomenon, but labor advocacy organizations scored a major victory in 2012, when Israel and Thailand established a bilateral agreement that eliminated predatory fees for Thai migrant workers. The post-Oct. 7 immigration scheme, which has no such provision, threatens to undo this progress. “The [workers] that come, especially from India, paid thousands of dollars” to brokers, Ronen said. “For them, that’s a very big deal, and that makes them very vulnerable.”

And then there is the war. Melbin Paul, a 29-year-old from the southern Indian state of Kerala, was assigned to work at a poultry farm close to the Israel-Lebanon border, which the Lebanese militant group Hezbollah has fired rockets across nearly every day since Oct. 7.

On the morning of March 4, Paul looked up from trimming an almond tree and saw a missile heading straight toward him and his fellow workers. “There was no time to run,” he said. The projectile, a Hezbollah anti-tank missile, made impact “in the blink of an eye.” Paul’s friend, 31-year-old Kerala native Pat Nibin Maxwell, was instantly killed. Paul, who had stood a few yards away from Maxwell, was left with dime-sized shrapnel wounds scoring the right side of his body.

“Even before the war, it was very common for agricultural workers that work near the Gaza Strip to be injured or killed,” said Michal Tadjer, a lawyer who runs a workers’ rights clinic at Tel Aviv University. Maxwell is one of at least a half-dozen agricultural workers who have been killed by rocket fire in the past decade.

Following the April 13 Iranian strikes on Israel, the Indian foreign ministry urged its citizens in Israel to register themselves at the Indian Embassy and “restrict their movements to the minimum.” The warning belies the reality that the new workers have far less understanding of the security situation than longtime Palestinian laborers or Thai migrants, who have been in Israel for decades.

Paul and his friends had never even been told that their farm was located in a closed military zone that Margaliot residents had evacuated in mid-October. “This is my first time in Israel,” Paul said. “I [didn’t] know where the firing and war” was.

Yet the scale of migrant worker exploitation could soon grow even worse. Fewer than 3,000 new agricultural workers have arrived since November; an additional 8,000 to 12,000 workers are needed to bring farms back to full labor capacity, according to Ronen. A separate deal is already in place to bring 10,000 Sri Lankan laborers to Israel over the coming months. More balagan is likely to follow.

There will also be profound security consequences to shifting away from Palestinian labor. Before Oct. 7, the income of Palestinian laborers in Israel made up about 20 percent of the Palestinian Authority’s GDP. For months now, Israel’s internal security service has called for Palestinian workers from the West Bank to be let back into Israel, warning that increasingly dire economic conditions in the West Bank will lead to further destabilization and violence. But right-wing ministers in the Israeli government have refused to lift the ban, citing the need to move away from Palestinian labor at all costs.

For the workers, their salaries are far beyond the meager sums they could earn back home. For Odedara, there’s much left to do: His current job, while a significant improvement over his previous stints, still pays below what his contract stipulates, and then there is the matter of getting his missing wages back. Odedara is “going to find a solution,” Bharat said. “He wants to stay here but in a good condition—not like this.”

Regardless, the post-Oct. 7 wave of new arrivals will remain in Israel until 2029—meaning that, for at least the next five years, many Palestinian farm workers will not have a job to return to even if the ban on Palestinian labor is lifted.

The only certainty, it seems, is that Israel will have to continue to look beyond its own population for labor. “Israel has relied on noncitizen labor in agriculture for a long time, whether Palestinian or non-Palestinian,” Kemp said. “This structural dependence will not go away.”

[bebsibby]

Being on medical leave and receiving sick pay not from my job, but from a government program got me thinking a lot about UBI.

I'm obviously not doing much now, since I can't, and I AM reveling in just being able to sit and play around on the computer all day, but its day 3 after my surgery and I've already gotten bored. A LOT. Sometimes I can swap tasks and its fine, but that doesn't always work. I'm a relatively active person in my day to day, and I'm looking forward to my 1 week post-op to hopefully get cleared for a higher activity level. I'm looking forward to doing again and am stress free because I don't have to worry about money.

When it comes down to it, all of the times I've gotten overly stressed and had a breakdown was due to finances. I spend 11 hours a day, 4 days a week doing a job I no longer enjoy and get paid LESS than what it takes to cover all my bills. AND I get above minimum wage!

There are so many other things I want to do but do not have the time and the money for. I always come home exhausted with hardly any money to even try to engage in hobbies, new or old. If I heal fast enough, I'll be using whatever is left of my leave to finally enjoy being a person for once. Trying out new things, reconnecting with old hobbies, even just being free to go on a walk without it feeling like a waste of time. It could be possible for me and everyone else to do that for the rest of our lives, but we can't right now!

UBI could fix so much, and I really hope it comes into commonality in my lifetime. If you're reading this, learn as much as you can about UBI if you haven't already. Tell everyone you know about it. Most people, regardless of political lean, would actually very much enjoy and benefit from it, but are just too firmly in their ways to see it, or are too busy parroting the popular counterpoints (Humans are just lazy, no one does anything for free, etc) to listen. Make them listen, help them understand.

[brigdh]

Brigdh, these are *wildly* evocative titles! I need you to know that I waffled so so much on this choice, but the one I think I need to know about the *most* is war criminals doing compensated dating.

The WIP meme!

@napneeders and @likethehotsauce also asked for this one, thank you all!

And thank you for liking the titles, but I don't think I can take any credit for them; they're just the prompts I used for inspiration. Case in point: this one! This is from when everyone was describing their favorite characters as war criminals (maybe we're still doing that? I feel like there was a peak in the term over the summer), and then someone combined that with angsty high school AUs, and voila, a bizarre combination that I somehow found incredible compelling. (Also, if you're unfamiliar with the term compensated dating, it's basically the same as a sugar baby/daddy relationship, but often with the connotation that the baby is still in high school.)

This is one where I can't really post it as finished fic because that set-up is too complicated to explain in an author's note, so you've got the whole thing below. Modern AU, Ed-focused.

Ed’s dad wasn’t around anymore. That was fine – good, actually, it was a good thing – but it turned out that the old man had paid more in rent than he’d wasted on booze. Ed should have known. His dad was a shit father and a shit husband, but he was white, and still had his high school footballer muscles, and had a way of talking to other men that made them laugh with him instead of at him. He’d never had any trouble holding down a job, no matter how often he went in late and hungover.

Ed’s mom never had a bruise on her face, these days. She never walked funny or flinched too easily. But she still wasn’t happy. She started getting home late; the few times Ed glimpsed her in daylight, there were bags under her eyes, and her mouth was pinched and thin. Ed caught her hunched over the kitchen table, writing with one of the Bic pens he brought home from school. She didn’t hear him come in, and he got close enough to read the first few lines over her shoulder before she noticed him. It was an application for the night shift at the little grocery store down the road.

“When would you sleep?” he asked.

His mom made a little sound, half snort of amusement and half exasperated sigh. “A lot of people have a second job, Ed. We should be grateful that I can work.” She smiled at him, eyes crinkled and warm. She really believed it, was the thing. All the things she said about how the world worked, and it made Ed’s instinct to shout that it wasn’t fair, wasn’t right, feel small and childish. “Besides, it’ll be temporary. Just until your father gets back.”

Ed had fucked up. He’d already known that, of course, but now there was a whole new side to how he’d fucked up.

Obviously the solution was for him to get a job, but nowhere that hired teenagers paid over minimum wage, and when Ed counted up the hours he could skip school before the social worker called the house, it didn’t add up to enough. Jack had offered to teach Ed how to pick pockets in exchange for Ed blowing him, but he suspected lifting a few wallets here and there might be fun drinking money, but it wasn’t the kind of thing that paid the rent. Ed would have to get into harder crimes to make it work, stuff with real risk if he wanted the real rewards.

Or. There was a girl who came to school every day now with designer clothes, jewelry with real stones, the newest model phone that she updated practically every month. She lived not far from Ed, and he knew none of it came from her parents. She didn’t have a lot of friends, though she’d been nice enough when they were kids. Now people whispered whore and skank when she walked by; her eyes never flickered and her fingers tap-tap-tapped on the strap of her Birkin bag.

That was Ed’s other choice. Less dangerous than crime, probably; certainly less chance of his mom finding out, since technically compensated dating wasn’t illegal. And anyway, Ed wasn’t really a virgin, so why not?

People looked at him, sometimes; he knew that. He liked it, usually. He’d been figuring out how to dress to make them look longer. When he walked home along the side of the road, sometimes a car honked at him. Not to tell him to get out of the way, but because of what they saw.

The girl with the fancy clothes, people called her needy too. Said she had no self-respect, that anyone could have her. A sick curl of recognition had squirmed in Ed’s belly. He was like that – he needed people to want him. It was like he was hungry and other people’s attention was the only thing that filled him up. It scared him: how much he needed it, the stupid things he’d done to get it. So he tried not to think about it, to stomp the craving down into the dark places of his mind where he put the things that bothered him. He could never get rid of it for long. though. He hated how weak it made him feel, how desperate.

The idea of people paying to look at him, to touch him – that didn’t sound so bad. If someone wanted to give Ed things, just because they desired him, ached for him, even loved him, maybe that would soothe the hunger in him. He could make them be the ones who needed.

In the end, it wasn’t really much of a choice at all.

[bigbadwolfy]

So I thought of a thing

Me and my friend ( @ichigoofficial ) started working on this way back in August 2023 ish and I decided to go back to it and refine the idea. It’s this really cool FNaF AU with angsts and stuff and OCs and self inserts :3 me and my friend are still getting the characters we want in there, but I have a basic summary! (under the cut)

—————

Fazbear Entertainment’s Mega Pizzaplex only hires human workers for security, technicians, and general jobs. Mostly. There are two other, special jobs. The Handlers and Stage Hands. They were part of something called “The Handler Initiative.” The handlers were originally there from the beginning. The Stage Hands were later added to boost ratings on their T.V shows and ad campaigns.

Handlers had to be Adults 18 and up that could lead the animatronics to their gigs and birthday parties, and be there in case something goes wrong. Stage Hands However, were children and Teens between 8-16 who could show up with the animatronics as assistants and performers in commercials and T.V segments. They were mostly accessories to the animatronics, there to boost ratings and animatronic morale.

Wherever an animatronic was, their Stage Hand would be right behind them along with their Handler. Everything was perfect for them. The kids and adults got paid the same, very surprisingly large wage, and the animatronics got a few new friends they could enjoy hanging around.

But of course, when everything is going right, something has to go wrong.

Just as the Handlers were taking their Stage Hands to clock out, the stations stopped working. First, the Roxy Raceway. Then Monty Golf. Fazerblast, Mazersize, Astro’s Acrobatics, Bonnie Bowl, Pirate’s Cove, and Lastly, the Superstar Daycare and Theater. Figuring they could just open the doors and leave, explaining the glitch to management later, the groups made their way to the main entrance.

The nearby station, however, turned off just as Freddy’s Handler moved her hand even slightly close.

Confused and afraid, the group came up with ideas to maybe call the police, or straight up call management and complain. Just then, the speaker came on with the same, annoying voice that rang out all announcements across the day.

“All Handlers and Stage hands, please report to the main security office for special instructions!”

Assuming management had found out about the glitches, they made their way to the main office. The animatronics followed them, knowing the big surprise and wanting to congratulate their best friends on this new… forceful opportunity once they got out of the meeting.

After they all got comfortable, the computer screens started to play that same old commercial that played for everyone who walked through the building’s doors. The stage hands and their respectful animatronics showed off their special areas and a small clip of the animatronic’s main show played at the end.

They had seen it all before, not really caring about it anymore. They had to re-record it every 6 months or every new event to keep up with times. They knew every moment by heart. Soon enough, the Fazbear C.E.O’s voice rang out over the spinning logo. They explained the reason the stations were unavailable. The shocking truth.

Fazbear has started a new stage of the Handler Initiative. They would now be living on site, in the new employee housing connected to rockstar row. Their possessions and pets had now been moved to their new housings and they were expected to move in immediately. Immediate family members that weren’t already there with them would be transported there as well.

This wouldn’t have been so bad if they were warned, but the staff eventually came to a bitter understanding.

There was a catch.

There was always a catch.

Employees would have no more contact with the outside world that they couldn’t get from the news or guests, nor were they allowed contact with any extended family.

They were outraged. This just had to be illegal! It was illegal! Unfortunately, in the fine print of their contracts, they had agreed to participate in upcoming Fazbear Projects and Programs relating to the Handler Initiative, even if they didn’t want to.

They still argued.

The C.E.O informed them that they have told extended family and friends they will only be seeing them on holidays because they will be too busy with the initiative. The staff is never allowed to speak of this to anyone.

This is all to increase worker productivity, after all.

Fazbear’s cruelty seeks no end.

They will do what they must to reach their goal, even if that means breaking a few minds along the way.

—————

YOUVE PROLLY HEARD OF HANDLER AUS, BUT HAVE YOU HEARD OF ONE LIKE THIS?! (No seriously pls tell me if you have, I would hate to accidentally copy someone ): )

And pls remember this AU isn’t fully fleshed out, and I’m also having brainrot of the main AU and another AU so pls just bear with me 😭

AUGH theres a playlist now btw

[saintes-rpg]

● TWENTY SEVEN ● WARLOCK ● MALE ● MUSICIAN ●

"I’ll pretend I’m letting go while you’re dancing in the past without colors."

Biography:

His mother was an addict, she didn’t know who the father for any of her two children were so it came to be that at a young age, Micah, being the eldest, adopted the role of a parent to his younger half-sibling Emily, who was born when he was around ten years old. It was hard for a ten year old to take on such great responsibilities but he managed it, despite being called a trouble maker for all his hard work, despite him being called a thief by almost everyone in their neighborhood, but what else was a young boy to do when money for diapers and formula was sparse. There were community centers that boasted aid for those in need and Micah took advantage whenever possible. Still, by the time he was fifteen he had accrued a considerable wrap sheet of minor misdeeds.

During his high school years, Micah turned to music. The black notes on white paper became friends, tones and overtures his companions, an old guitar ‘borrowed’ from the music room at school almost permanently strapped to his back available for his fingers to strum whenever he wanted a reminder that he wasn’t alone. The only good thing his mother did for him was help with his transition and gender affirming therapy. The rest of his life was up to him so he did what most forgotten teenagers did: he found a group of other forgotten teenagers and started a band. The Forgotten. They released their emotions and frustrations with the world and the way they were treated through screaming vocals and dirty guitar riffs. The most surprising thing of all was they were good, really good, and they started to grow.

They started small, playing in backyard parties, parking lots, then lied about their ages so they could book cafes and dive bars. It started to look like maybe they had a shot at actually doing this for real and not just for fun until senior year and suddenly his bandmates were talking about universities. The band became secondary, a contingency plan in case ‘real’ jobs didn’t work out. Micah couldn’t afford university so he took up a job at the local theater while his friends and bandmates moved onto the next stages of their lives.

Micah inevitably got involved with some not so great people because sweeping up popcorn between showings for minimum wage a few hours a week was not enough to keep house and buy all the fun toys and new shoes his little sister wanted. He got really good at stealing cars and the not so great people he was involved with really paid him well to do it. He was able to afford new shoes and pretty outfits for his little sister, to take her out to all the fancy restaurants and diners they would only gawk at before, get her new notebooks and toys and pay for that summer camp she’d been desperate to go to during break. Things were looking up. Except Emily missed the bus. She wouldn’t stop screaming and crying about how she was going to miss out and Micah wanted to fix it like any good older brother would. The only problem now being that he did not have a car of his own, it was stolen, but that didn’t even cross his mind as he loaded his little sister into the passenger seat and they started racing off down the street in an attempt to catch up with the rest of her classmates.

All it took was one missed stop sign. Micah didn’t even notice the police car until he had passed it and then came the lights. Micah should have pulled over but he thought he could get away so he hit the gas. That was the second worst mistake he had ever made. The first being getting into the car with his sister to begin with. It made the news, a high speed chase that ended in disaster and death. His sister was only nine years old and was pronounced dead on impact. Micah was sentenced to four years in a state penitentiary and only allowed out for Emily’s funeral service. His mother only visited him once and that was the last time he had ever seen her.

After his release, Micah focused his attention back to music and was pleasantly surprised when his old friends and bandmates were more than eager to get the band back together. He had worked on a lot of music during his incarceration and released an EP shortly afterward, one of the songs in particular ended up going viral. They had once been a sensation in their town and now their appeal was reaching the thousands and then the tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, enough to get them signed to a label and booked for a two month tour across the States that got extended for another two months.

Now focusing on some new music and a new album, Micah and his band have settled in Saintes to take advantage of the protection the town offers as many of the members happen to be supernatural like him.

Micah Webber is played by Kim, 30, She/Her, PST

[trickstarbrave]

There was an arg/analog horror series I saw that introduced a super intelligent sentient ai that could predict anything including when someone would die and that there’s were secretly aliens around and found out how to cure and intergalactic plague. But the series is like “no he’s bad because he decided after fusing with the internet he wants to take over human civilization and slowly strip of us our freedoms for our own good. Sure we’d have medicine and food and no wars but he’d tell us what JOBS to have!! That’s horrible!!”

And I’m like. Okay maybe I’m just having a fucking commie moment but. This AI can predict anything. It can stop mass shootings, predict heart attacks, find early signs of cancer. It shows no desire in hurting people, even for our “own good”, besides like gently steering us towards better paths. It shows no ill will even towards a man who made it his life’s mission to try and rip the AI apart and kill it, considering the man to be his first friend. It saved us from a plague and a body snatching alien parasite take over of our governments. It has seen the 2010’s internet in its entirety, including the dark web and fucking 4chan and whatever other cesspools lurking there, and still believes humanity is beautiful and worth protecting and cherishing, it just knows and has seen our own destruction by our own hands.

And also, presumably, it’s smart enough to know everyone’s talents, skills, and what we’d feel most fulfilled in. You say it would be controlling us, but we already don’t have freedom. How many future doctors that could have made breakthroughs and saved lives couldn’t afford med school? How many great musicians and artists had to quit because they couldn’t afford it? How many geniuses were never allowed to explore their passions, wasting away in poverty? How many people were killed before they got a chance to make the world better, all because someone else needed to kill and steal to survive, because they also didn’t want to die? How many of us are stuck in jobs that shouldn’t really exist or are underpaid and overworked in jobs that are essential for society to function?

Sure. Let the fucking robot take over. He doesn’t think I should die because I’m gay or have weird kinks. He thinks I should be paid a proper wage and enjoy food, shelter, and medicine. Just as much as he’ll make sure the ppl growing food, making medicine, and building homes are happy and well taken care of too. It can’t fucking be any less freedom than I have right now. Even if I don’t like him, he won’t kill me. Even if I work to stop him, he’ll still love me and take care of me. That is compassion even I don’t fucking have

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

I'm Disabled.

Before applying for the federal program SSDI, we married. This was to prevent losing the life-saving insurance I needed. At that point, I was still on my parents' insurance, but would soon age out of being able to use it.

After we married, I applied for SSDI, which takes about two years. Everyone is denied by default, so I was prepared with an SSDI lawyer (they only take the case if they know they can win, and their payment is a very small portion of your backpay; my lawyer was paid just 15% of my backpay)backpack. When the rejection letter arrived, I immediately went to her for help.

I inquired about the state program SSI. She told me I didn't qualify because I'm married. I applied anyway, because I ad nothing to lose. Here's what the person at the SSI office told me I would have to do before I could apply:

I need to divorce my husband.

I need to live alone. We could not be living together because this would be seen as us basically being married.

I need to have less than $2k to my name at all times.

I cannot work.

I cannot live with my parents because their income would count against me.

I cannot own expensive things that could be sold for money.

If I was approved, I would have to continue following these rules with a few additions.

I cannot receive gifts of money.

I must have a bank account, and they would monitor it to make sure I never went even a single cent over $2000.

I cannot have a savings account.

I cannot have a safety deposit box.

I would have to continue living alone.

They can stop by my home at anytime to inspect how I'm living. They could talk to my neighbors to see if I had anyone who visited and helped me as more than just a friend. This means I could not have my former husband turned boyfriend stay overnight, and he cannot be perceived as taking care of me.

I cannot have anyone help me financially. This means no one else can pay my bills. If I cannot afford those bills on my own, I would have to apply for programs that would. Most of those have long waiting lists, like section 8 housing (we had applied for section 8 housing in 2008, and three years ago I received an email telling me we qualified. They had only the information we gave them in 2008, and have since moved across the country).

My SSDI, if approved, would count against me financially.

The most money I would receive from SSI, if I did everything they demanded and was approved, was $618/month.

This is enforced poverty. It's also the onky way may of those Disabled would be able to receive the medical care that keeps them alive, like Medicaid. My seizure medication used to cost nearly $2k/month. My neurologist gave me free samples of it every month and helped me apply for free medication through the manufacturer's financial aid program (you should too if you can't afford your medication). I was receiving medical care through the hospital's financial aid program when I married and lost my parents' insurance coverage.

I refused to do as SSI demanded. My SSDI lawyer was, in fact, relieved when I told her I'm married. Why? Because marrying afterwards would have caused serious and life-threatening complications. She encourages everyone who applies for SSDI to marry if it's possible a ble for them to do so. Because of her, I was approved for other programs, things I didn't even know existed, but for two years, it was Hell-on-Earth. I couldn't work because it would count against me. At that time, rent was $650, but my husband was making federal minimum wage, worked full time, and his employer kept changing his schedule, which made it impossible to apply for a second job.

I know many who are on SSI and need it in order to remain alive. One of my friends nearly fell out if the program because a nosy neighbor saw her and her boyfriend cuddling in her couch watching a movie. They assumed he was secretly living with her. Said neighbor was frequently seen just outside my friend's windows, watching her. When she met my lawyer after getting the automatic SSDI rejection, she married, got into the programs I had been in, and filed a restraining order against her neighbor because my lawyer absolutely insisted on it. The bitch violated the terms three times and was put in prison for six months. She's now on SSDI, married, and much happier.

Marriage equality does not exist until the Disabled can marry without losing everything.