#would take sick time but I am helping my boss with a program :(

[elgatodeltren]

fam we’re losing today

[meeludrawz]

New Rehab Program - P5

A/N: Hey if you wanna get tagged, just tell me! Cuz life makes me update slow, rip Warnings: Mention of blood, mention of you being badly injured, mention of death

About three weeks later, you were looking through the fridge with your phone in hand. "I know, I know but I think he's gonna eat the walls if he doesn't go out" You threw a glance at Tomura. "No offense" You mouthed.

The ex-villain, sitting on the kitchen counter, yes ON the counter, only stucked his tongue out while he played on his phone. You recently found out that he liked sitting on any surfaces, like a cat. You often told him to not do that, but he never listened so you quickly gave up.

All Might was trying to change your mind. He wasn't against the idea of giving Shigaraki more freedom but your bosses would put you and the retired hero in trouble.

"I know it has been only three weeks since your last visit and I know he's gonna hang out with Dabi- I mean Touya, next week" You sighed. "But he needs to go out or he's gonna chew his cage, I'm telling you"

"Ew" Tomura mumbled.

You playfully stuck your tongue out at Shigaraki before your face slowly faded into disappointment as you listened to All Might.

The villain looked up and immediately frowned. {He's smart} You thought with a sad smile because, one again, society was stopping him from having fun.

You silently nodded. "Yes I understand.. Thanks All Might" You almost whispered before hanging up.

You peeked at the white haired man. "Sorry, we-"

He jumped off the counter and put his hand on your mouth, cutting you off. "Turn off your phone and let's go"

You blinked multiple times, removing his hand from you. "What? Why?"

"Let's get groceries anyway" He walked to the entrance, putting his red shoes on.

Your eyes widened. "What? No, I'll get in trouble"

"C'mon, I won't do shit, plus I'm sick of not having any Monster"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the mention of the energy drink, before quickly following him.

Once at the grocery store, you grabbed a cart and the white haired man climbed in it.

"Didn't you say you weren't going to do shit, mister?" You chuckled. "And you're not a kid"

"This is nothing compared to what I would've done before, so shut up and drive" He grumbled while he got comfy.

You sighed and playfully rolled your eyes before entering the fruit and vegetables area.

You only grabbed what you needed while Tomura didn't pick anything until you reached the snacks aisle.

There, he snatched energy drinks, chips and some other sweets. You, on the other hand, took more sweets than anything else.

"My therapist is a fucking sweet tooth" He mumbled as you put the stuff in the cart.

"Hey, you took chocolate too!"

"Well, I didn't just take that!" He teased as you drove the cart towards the cash registers.

You paid for everything then as you started pushing the cart towards the exit, his whispers made you shiver. "Stay silent and hurry"

"Why?" You whispered back, nervously looking around as you quickened your pace.

He only answered once you were at your car. You opened the trunk and started putting the bags inside with Tomura's help.

"The cops are here and they don't look happy" He grumbled in a low voice, holding your wrist and throwing glances here and there.

"Oh fuck, am I going to jail??" You whispered-yelled as you spotted them too

"Maybe" Tomura grinned at your horrified expression "But hey, you wouldn't be alone"

"I'd rather NOT go to jail Tomura" You mumbled with gritted teeth

"Just stay behind-"

Gunshots were fired and you immediately fell to the floor. But for Tomura, it felt like you were falling in slow motion, as he tried to catch you. "NO!"

He didn't know why, but everything got blurry. Your voice, his surroundings, the cops, your face, everything. It all felt surreal for some reason and yet, he was holding you tight against him and breathing like he had just ran a marathon.

The villain glared at each damn cops that was surrounding him. They'll fucking pay.

"Tomura?"

Wait that was your voice, he looked at you, but you were dead. Eyes opened, not any single light in it and blood had ran down your chin

"Tomura!"

The young man blinked and found himself in a new room. Where the fuck was he?

He felt something pet his head and he sat up in a jolt.

"Hey, it's okay! It's just me!" You lifted your hands in a defensive way. "You were having a nightmare so I woke you up"

Tomura stared at you. A nightmare? He observed his surroundings. You were both on a bench, secluded from… multiple cubicles. What stood out the most were the people in uniforms.

Cops

He frowned. "Why are we here?"

"Remember that call with All Might earlier?"

He turned back to you and nodded.

"Yeah, well after that, we went to the grocery store, right?" He nodded again. "All Might called again when we were gone and since we didn't pick up, he got anxious and called Eraser Head and the police" You gave him a small smile, scratching the back of your neck.

"They found us- I mean found me when I walked out of the store cuz you were asleep in the cart" You then chuckled. "You should've seen that, All Might literally grabbed you bridal style like a little baby because I asked to not wake you up"

Shigaraki made the most hilariously-disgusted face you've ever seen and that made you laugh. "I'm so sad I didn't bring my phone to take a pic"

He rolled his eyes. "That doesn't explain why we're here"

"Right! So we're here to get scolded.. kinda? Anyways, All Might and Eraser Head are getting scolded for disturbing the police for "nothing". They started with them because I insisted, again, that you should sleep"

Tomura raised a brow. But before he could even ask why, you added: "Don't look at me like that, I know you have trouble sleeping"

Shit, how did you know? He avoided your gaze. "Maybe I'm just playing all night"

You shook your head and crossed your arms. "I have good ears sir, plus, you don't close your door anymore and I'd hear the clackety of your controller, the tapity of your keyboard or the clickety of your mouse"

The young man stayed silent. He turned his body and leaned his back against the wall, still sitting next to you.

You put your hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure you're okay?"

He hesitated for a couple of long seconds. What could he even tell you? "I.. Keep dreaming about this person.." He stopped for a bit, thinking of how he should phrase this. "They keep dying in front of me"

It was your turn to stay silent. You were almost anxious to even answer because for once, he was willing to talk. He was finally opening up to you about his problems! Which was why you were scared to fuck things up.

"It's my reaction to their death that annoys me" Tomura mumbled.

"Why? Do you start laughing?" You tried to guess.

He shook his head and his frowned deepened. You could read his face, he was trying to understand his dreams on his own but he couldn't and that was frustrating him. Normally, you would've smiled and told him it was okay but you couldn't activate too much your therapist mode. In case he'd figure and close himself again.

"No.. it's.."

You let him figure his words on his own. If he didn't, you'd try to help as subtly as possible.

He clenched his fists, glaring at the ground. "I don't fucking know, but I hate it" It felt like he was pouting, which was cute, somehow.

"Hate what? Your reaction? That person? Seeing them die?"

He took a few moments for himself. It took so long that you thought he figured this was kind of a therapy, which got you nervous, but he answered. "Them dying, I just don't get it.. Normally I don't give a shit"

You smiled a little. "Well.. Maybe you do now" He gave you an annoyed look. "I mean, deep down, inside you, you're afraid of losing that person. And you maybe actually like them a lot more than you may think"

The white haired man crossed his arms, looking down, you could almost see the gears turn in his head.

The silenced installed itself in between the two of you. You actually appreciated it while Tomura was breaking down his brain piece by piece.

Though, you thought that he shouldn't think too much about this. After all, it was just a dream. And they didn't always mean something.

You smirked a littke and nudged his shoulders with yours. "How's that for a first therapy session?"

Shigaraki blinked, coming back to reality, then turned to you, taking a few seconds before he realized. He then frowned, fuck maybe you fucked up.

"Fuck off" He gently pushed you off the bench you both were sitting on since you arrived at the station.

He was smirking so you smiled back. "Hey!" You stood up and grabbed his wrists, trying to pull him off the bench too.

He scoffed as it wasn't working.

You fooled around like that for a while, seemingly not realizing that the two heroes were watching you.

His blonde colleague smiled. "I believe this is working well"

"Apparently.." Aizawa crossed his arms.

He felt odd about this, no, he felt… Proud? Why? Normally, he'd feel that kind of pride for his students. But now, for some reason, he was glad that Tomura Shigaraki and his therapist were getting along and having fun.

Maybe All Might's plan to rehabilitate Tomura- Tenko wasn't as worthless as he thought after all..

Prev Next

[taysanimaladventures]

Just gonna. Bitch a bit lol. I'm sorry I don't have anything positive to share on here anymore. But I think prospective keepers need to know the shit that happens in this field.

Trigger warnings for animal neglect and death.

I was let go from a job. When I was working part time at my local zoo they underpaid me severely. I needed to take part time because my grandma was dying. I lived with my husband but the pay was so bad and hours were limited to 16 a week so I was forced to get a second job.

I quit the zoo last year which is a whole story in itself, but we are keeping it simple here. I think once I am a but cozy I will share that story and all the other stories at some point. Anyways I stuck with this second job for the past year while processing my grandmother's illness and eventual death to at least earn some income. However after my grandma passed I decided for certain I wanted to leave the industry. I learned the hard way that changing careers is not easy so I was sticking with them only for cash during this frustrating job search.

This second job was taking care of ambassador animals for an educational program. Nothing fancy, just a collection of small mammals, reptiles, amphibians, inverts, and an owl. My boss acted like she worshipped the ground I walked on because I busted my ass trying to help them rebuild their animal collection after their old one was lost to a wildfire.

I did a lot for them. A lot. I found reliable breeders to purchase from, set up the entire animal care work room, wrote care sheets for every single animal, created schedules, deep cleaned, did research and gave advice, and more. All of this while juggling a nasty sleep issue, depression and anxiety from my grandma's situation, and mental health issues up the wazoo from changing around medication.

Now while I bust my balls for my animals, over the years and years of exposure to terrible situations I have not been the most..... palatable person. I had a breakdown when my boss brought in a new bearded dragon and made little effort to quarantine it. I was irritated after the 4th time I come back from the weekend to empty water dishes and dirtier-than-normal cages. I got huffy with the people who take animals for making stupid mistakes, such as leaving a lamp on the edge of a snake enclosure causing it to melt. I had repeatedly requested my boss re-train staff so mistakes were minimal. She always said she would but I never saw a change. She even admitted to me she noticed staff were in deep conversation while handling animals which is probably why the mistakes were happening. And she wonders why I got pissed off at them??

My patience eventually ran dry after like 4 months of this shit and my boss -appeared- to be understanding that I have extensive trauma and I act the way I do because of it. It's not like I ever called anyone a mean name or bullied them, like I was the victim of way too many times when I first started out. I was outwardly unhappy, did not want to converse with anyone, and had a tone and was short sometimes. People still walked on eggshells around me. And you know what? I didn't give a shit and I still don't. I was a lone wolf in my duties and I wasn't required to converse with anyone except my boss. Plus no one here matters except for the animals. When you are careless with my animals, I am going to be pissed off.

But apparently my (now former) boss showed what really matters to her. She gave the keeper who forgot to refill water bowls a million chances to do better and never let her go. That keeper was the reason I even wrote those care sheets. But me? I'm grumpy and I challenge the status quo. Got to go. After blowing smoke up my ass for two years, saying I'm amazing and valuable and I can share anything with her and giving me a stupid piece of tape with stars on it for handling a sick animal.

I snapped from the stress.You should take a break. Ok, I'll take a fucking break! And then, a few days after my grandma's funeral which she knew about, I get an email: Oh so you can't come back this isn't working out anymore.

Sorry, what?

So I am here to shame the other shit this job did. Of course I spoke up, but it did not change anything.

-Two male rats kept in this cage. They were separated because they were fighting. They now live in two of these cages. I asked for a bigger cage. Blown off. I asked if the DIY guy could fuse the cages. "There's no point if we are getting a bigger cage." A year later, still the same cages. Btw they have diarrhea often.

-Rescued bearded dragon was brought in underweight. Boss said feed her insects every day (she was at least a year old, young but not a baby). Beardie starts getting chunkier and chunkier. I say hey we need to cut back in the notes. Ignored for a few weeks. She is morbidly obese. Only then the boss says cut back. She is also dead now and I only know this since I checked records while on "break." Wanna bet that was the morbid obesity?

-Another bearded dragon not feeling well. Eyes closed, black bearding. I'm hollering for him to be seen. "Oh it may just be because it's cooling down." Eventually sees the vet, the fucking quack says he's trying to brumate. I've never owned beardies but I called bs. Nothing was done except blasting more heat on him. Nothing changes. A week later, he vomits blood and dies. It was kidney failure.

-Leopard gecko not eating and slowly losing weight. In the notes several times over the course of a few months, "he is not eating and losing weight." I guess it was my bad for putting it in the notes I assumed were getting read instead of verbally telling my boss. Got ignored until I verbally told her. Gecko needed to be put down.

-Rabbit taken to programs way too often. He comes back and looks worn the fuck out. I bring this concern up to boss. "Yeah, we need to get a third rabbit." But otherwise nothing changes.

-Accepts a hermann's tortoise in a glass enclosure that nonstop runs into the glass, promises a tortoise table but here we are again a year later.

-Says yes to a frilled lizard from the quack of a vet as an apology for what happened with the beardie. Takes the vets word that his enclosure (a horizontal, not vertical enclosure with newspaper only and a red lamp and heat pad) is correct and it's "just like caring for a bearded dragon." The poor thing stops eating and the skin of her frills is dead from being unable to shed. Their solution is force feeding her. Fed up with leadership, I research the species and learned that everything we did was wrong. I set up proper lighting and substrate for her (can't do much about a vertical enclosure). She bounces back.

-"This animal doesn't look good, it shouldn't be taken to programs." "Okay" -2 days later they are back at programs- "Sorry we needed it."

I get that I was not necessarily a great person in this story, but I truly feel justified because this was such bullshit to deal with and now I am truly free of this hellish industry. I am unemployed and it's uncomfortable but it's better than dealing with this bullshit.

To my husband, friends, and family helping me get through this: thank you.

To Stephanie: fuck you.

[fizziepopangel]

Hi, it's me Crystal! I'm wondering if I should write a Striker x Reader fanfic or not, it would be the classic childhood friends troupe. So I ask, what do you think Striker's childhood and adolescence was like?

To be honest, I've always seen him as a typical problem kid, who played rough with others and was a bullie only to become a bad boy in his teens.

- Crystal 🎀💖✨️

@crystalofmoon19 I LOVE seeing your asks and I am so sorry it takes me so long to get to them sometimes, but I would absolutely love to read something like this!!! I've never thought about his childhood that much, but I do have a couple of thoughts on how he was raised and what I think kinda made him the way that he is as an adult. I'm not sure if this is what you were thinking, but I really hope you enjoy my headcanons and hope they inspire you to write!

Young Striker

Despite his rougher way now, Striker didn’t start out so hateful.

As a young child, he was raised by a loving single mother on her family’s farm in the Wrath ring where he was actually excited to work alongside his mother and other family members day in and day out.

He was encouraged to sing and play music by his mother and she often had him sing to the crops and animals, telling him it helped them grow and that it helped make them feel better when sickness passed through the farm. She also encouraged him to cook with her and his grandmother, telling him that food was an expression of love and that he should cook for the ones he loved.

His grandmother gifted him Bombproof as a child and taught him how exactly to care for the horse in sickness and in health.

When he was about seven, his grandfather taught him how to hunt and shoot, skills he would later apply to his little one man assassin business, but as a child, Striker wasn’t fond of hurting other things.

Being a hybrid imp, Striker was gifted with abilities not all other imps had, one being the power of hypnosis. He used that quite a bit to get his way in early years. It started out small, like hypnotizing someone in his family to give him a second dessert after dinner or hypnotizing a shop owner in town to give him a free toy, but after his mother passed away, he didn’t care much for morals.

Striker would say that his life fell apart when he was eleven years old. His mother fell ill and passed shortly after when they were unable to afford medical treatment outside of their ring. After pouring money into trying to get his mother medical care that he still believes would have saved her life, his family could no longer afford to own their farm and he lost the only home he had ever known. 

As his mother was essentially his moral compass, after her passing, Striker gave up most of the habits she had built, too angry and sad to do much that reminded him of her… So he did the opposite.

Smoking, stealing, picking on smaller demons, disrespecting his elders, cursing, drinking…. Anything to feel something outside of the anger and sadness he felt after losing his mother.

Unable to care for him and themselves after losing their farm, his grandparents used the little money they were able to save to send Striker to what they were convinced was a great boarding school-like program for troubled young demons. This school took lower class demons and trained them to serve and after graduation, Striker was sent to work for royals.

After graduating that boarding school program, Striker was sent to work for lower class royals outside of the Wrath ring. Still dealing with the ‘bad habits’ he picked up after his mom died, he was quickly reprimanded by his boss in ways that could be clearly classed as abuse. After not changing his way enough to please them, he was sent to a new ring with other nobles, where the cycle repeated itself until he decided he wanted to work until he could afford to buy back his family farm since it sat abandoned all this time.

By age fifteen, Striker had fixed his attitude and work ethic and became a trusted butler for a lower class noble family…. After hearing him talk about his plans to save his meager pay to buy his farm back and leave them, that family then bought it and destroyed it as a way of reminding him that he now belonged to them.

With the farm destroyed and the land bought out, Striker became extremely depressed. At first he didn’t want to live…. Then he decided the people who looked down on him and treated him the way he had been treated for years, were really the ones who didn’t deserve to live.

By sixteen, he ran from the life he lived with the nobles who abused him and lived on the streets of Wrath. Striker stole, cheated, and killed to keep himself safe in these times until he found the abandoned railroad he still lives in now.

The little money he had went to keeping his horse happy and fed while he did whatever he had to keep himself not dead and not a servant.

Living in the conditions he lived in and doing the things he did became…. Comfortable almost. It also triggered thoughts and he realized what he wanted to do with his life because he realized that every problem in his life started with the societal rules put in place by the noble bloodline, who rigged the system so they never really suffered the way he did.At the age of eighteen, Striker knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to kill the unkillable.

Being at that age where he was barely an adult, and having had very little people in his life to model business and work ethic in this venture for him, Striker’s plan definitely hit some bumps and he definitely screwed up a few times before he learned a few tricks of the trade, and he had to use his hypnosis powers to clean up quite a few oopsies, but the goal never changed. He wanted to end every royal and every blue blood he came across. 

His late teen years consisted of training and building up his portfolio of murder by using everyday demons to hire him as their personal murder machine so he could perfect his methods of kidnapping, torture, and murder for when he was ready for his real targets.

Striker spent a lot of time… perfecting what he does on ordinary demons. As he took his time to learn and tweak his methods, he watched as royals and nobles seemed to continue to ‘fix’ the system in ways that only seemed to favor them and his hatred had time to blossom into something bigger than he had ever imagined his body could hold.

By the time he reached his mid 20’s, Striker had build a name for himself within the world of assassins, but his goal still remains the same. He’s found that it would be a slow process, but he’s working on it.

[respectable-username]

Because I'm obsessed with Hivemind Etho, here's another little story with them for the @hermitcraftheadcanons Hermitopia AU. As before, this is just a quick piece that's only been lightly edited because of the time constraints of this community AU.

This is also some setup for a potential future confrontation for somebody else to write.

---

The two Ethos stood at the door to the apartment, waiting for the hour to strike.

It was all they could do to not to brush the hastily cut and dyed hair away from one of their selves' forehead, or fight against the overly tight suit and tie, or scratch at the cheap surgical mask that sat in place of their regular cloth face covering, or the makeup that tried to conceal their prominent eye scar. The other self pulled their jacket closer, trying to extract enough comfort from it for the both of them.

The clock struck 7am. Etho knocked.

A few minutes later, the door was pulled open by a bleary-eyed Mumbo in a dressing gown.

"Hello– oh no what are you doing here please don't hurt me please don't hurt me."

The undisguised Etho pushed through the doorway as Mumbo backed away from the Unrestrained villain, now fully awake.

"Your ID card," said the Etho, entering the room.

"What?" said Mumbo.

"Your ConCorp ID pass," clarified the Etho, holding out their hand. "Give it to us. Now."

"Um, I don't think I'm supposed to do that," said Mumbo, desperately searching for something to grab.

The Etho's eyes bore into Mumbo, cold, unflinching, unwavering. One looked right at him while the other seemed to look right through him.

"Um, right, ok," said Mumbo. "Uh, can you pass me my bag? It's in there."

The disguised Etho entered the apartment and grabbed the briefcase sitting by the door, opening it and grabbing the pass inside, clipping it onto their own trousers. They closed the bag and held it beside them.

"Um, ok," said Mumbo. "I– is that all you wanted?"

"Your phone too," said the undisguised Etho.

"Please no!" Mumbo pleaded. "I can't lose that. What if there's an emergency and I need to call for help but I don't have my phone so the apartment burns down or if somebody gets hurt and I can't call an ambulance or–"

The Etho took a step forward. "Your phone," they repeated.

"Ok ok please don't hurt me," said Mumbo, retrieving his phone from his pocket and holding up both hands.

The Etho grabbed the phone and tossed it over their shoulder at their other self, who caught it flawlessly.

The Etho looked between the cowering Mumbo before them and their other, disguised self. About the same height. Hair roughly similar enough to pass. The ConCorp-issued suit didn't fit quite the same, and the face mask was an obvious difference, but it was close enough if nobody gave them a second glance.

And, having been observing Mumbo for the last few weeks, there didn't seem to be anybody who would give Mumbo a second glance.

The disguised Etho turned silently and left. The other Etho shut the front door and turned the lock, trapping them and Mumbo inside.

***

The disguised Etho walked up to the ConCorp entrance at 8:53am. This seemed to be the average time of Mumbo's arrivals. They walked towards the turnstiles and swiped Mumbo's pass.

"Everything alright?" asked a receptionist behind the main desk, presumably concerned by the face mask.

The Etho coughed. "I'll be fine," they croaked.

"Sweetie, if you're feeling unwell, you should be at home, resting," she said.

"Got stuff to do," croaked Etho, walking forward into the elevator before any further questions could be asked.

"Where's your office?" the Etho at Mumbo's apartment asked, sitting in a corner of Mumbo's couch from which they could see the whole room.

"Um, at ConCorp HQ," said Mumbo, fiddling with a teabag.

Etho sighed. "Precise directions from the elevator please," they said.

"Oh, uh, straight ahead down the corridor, last door on the left," Mumbo said.

The "Mumbo" Etho followed the described path and scanned their pass to enter the room.

The kettle clicked. Mumbo poured the boiling water out into the mug. The Etho in the apartment tensed, ready to spring away at any sign the hot contents would be flung towards them.

"And what's your password?" asked Etho.

"For what?" said Mumbo.

"Your ConCorp laptop," said Etho, the faintest wisps of exasperation creeping into their otherwise carefully controlled voice.

"I am so getting fired for this," sighed Mumbo.

"Better your job than your life," Etho replied flippantly.

"Of course," said Mumbo hurriedly. "It's – oh gosh I can't believe I'm saying this aloud – it's BMX4lyfe95!"

The Etho at the office typed it in. Finally, the internal network was open to them.

They started working to set up a reverse proxy to tunnel out from behind the firewall. Another of their selves at home was already positioned to connect to the network tunnel as soon as it was opened.

Mumbo poured milk into his mug, throwing away the teabag and walking over to the lounge. The Etho already on a couch got ready to jump, but Mumbo just sat down across from them and took a sip.

Mumbo stared down into his mug. "You're a hacker, right?" he asked, his eyes not looking up.

"One of my talents," said Etho cautiously.

"Since they're gonna fire me anyway, can I ask a small favour?" said Mumbo, still acting like his tea was the most fascinating thing in the room.

"Depends," said Etho.

Mumbo drummed his fingers against the mug. "I have this friend, Iskall," Mumbo said. "He's one of the office workers at ConCorp. I made his cybernetics after he got injured. But they keep breaking in weird ways and I don't know why. His explanations don't make sense! The metal I use doesn't melt like that from accidentally touching a stove. They shouldn't buckle like that from tripping into a wall. They shouldn't shatter from falling down a flight of stairs. I'm... I'm just worried for him. Is he in danger? What isn't he telling me?"

The Etho on the couch was quiet for a few seconds. "You only have partial access to the VEX files," they said. "There's a lot I can't find here."

"It's so creepy how you do that," said Mumbo.

Etho ignored him.

The Etho at home let out a quiet cheer as they managed to connect through the tunnel into the ConCorp network. They started browsing, collecting, and saving as much information as possible.

The Etho in the office switched their focus to finding some sort of privilege escalation vulnerability that would let them access the more secure files.

"Erm, I probably should have asked before," said Mumbo. "Would you like some tea? Some breakfast?"

"I'm fine," said the Etho in the apartment.

"So, uh, do you have any hobbies?" asked Mumbo.

"Please don't small talk," said Etho. "I'm busy."

"Oh, ok," said Mumbo. "Can I go grab a book or something then? Since, y'know, I don't have my phone or laptop or anything."

Etho nodded. "But if you call for help," they said, "I will know about it and I will make you regret it."

"Of course," said Mumbo.

The Etho in the office kept prodding at the ConCorp intranet. What they needed were the credentials of a superior, maybe even the Director himself. Hmm, it seemed from this directory structure that the Director was Mumbo's direct supervisor. It would only take a few hours to set up some sort of spear phishing attempt that would let them pivot directly onto the Director's computer. As long as they didn't get caught first, of course.

Etho opened Mumbo's calendar and declined all meetings that day that wouldn't look suspicious to avoid. There weren't many meetings to sort through.

"How often do you get visitors to your office?" Etho asked Mumbo.

"Iskall usually comes for lunch when he's not swamped by a project," said Mumbo. "Otherwise, nobody else just pops 'round usually."

"How about your boss?" asked Etho.

"He's busy," Mumbo said. "I have to go to him if we ever talk."

The Etho in the apartment nodded, settling back to focus on what their other selves were doing.

***

Hi Cub, Etho typed. Can you review this interface I made? It should let us remotely view what's happening with our heroes through their cybernetics. With some extra work, we could get actual video from their perspective to send to the media!

Etho sent the message, then sent the file with their exploit. The exploit was covered by a very quickly and poorly thrown together interface which returned the live location of a GPS receiver they had found in the lab.

They left it a few minutes, stretching back in Mumbo's desk chair as they waited for a reply.

Finally, one came through.

Hey Mumbo. Great prototype! We'll probably need to pass off development to the actual software engineering team, but this is a great initiative. I'm proud to have a thinker like you on our team!

Etho allowed themselves a smile as they checked to see if their exploit had worked. There it was, a tunnel open on the expected port right into the Director's machine. Jackpot.

The Etho at home pivoted through the new tunnel and started scraping as much information as they could.

"Your friend is a mercenary," the Etho in Mumbo's apartment said, making Mumbo jump at the sudden sound.

"Wait what?" said Mumbo.

"Iskall is a mercenary and assassin for ConCorp, working for them in exchange for ConCorp saving his life," clarified Etho.

"Iskall, a mercenary?" Mumbo said. "No no no no no. That can't be!"

"That's what his file says," Etho said with a shrug. "Either way, I've got what I need. I've called you in sick for the next week, and I'm keeping your pass to enforce that. Your phone will be returned, but I've programmed it to inform me if you let any part of today slip. I hope you understand."

"Uh, thank you, I guess," said Mumbo.

"I'll be here with your belongings in half an hour," Etho continued, standing up.

"What do– oh, right," said Mumbo.

"And don't do anything stupid," said Etho, opening the door to leave. "As thanks for your assistance, the nHo will try to keep you safe from any upcoming confrontation. But if you break this trust, that guarantee will not hold."

"I understand," said Mumbo, gulping at the idea of having to further betray his company, his friends.

The Etho left his apartment.

[vergess]

@autismserenity​ said: Your tags are the most American thing I’ve ever read, we are truly so screwed here   

May I interest you in a more complete, and more excruciating, explanation of what I spent the last 18 months doing?

It is, I need to emphasize, fucking nasty. Don’t feel obligated, especiallly if you’ve already had A Day(tm).

There’s a lot of disease, a lot of worker abuse including sexual and racial abuse, a fine portion of letting people die for not being white enough for real medical care, all leading to homelessness.

For NDA reasons, because my former employer was just as vile as any tech company has ever been, I cannot be super specific about who I worked for. However, I can say that we handled the records and patient contact for all COVID testing for several states, as well as 2 of the 5 largest metros in the US, and several dozen smaller ones ranging from the approximate population of San Francisco, down to little towns, as well as the testing for several public school systems and at least two government agencies that I am not at liberty to disclose.

I tell you this for a sense of scale. When I say shit like, “my boss was more than happy to let thousands or hundreds of thousands die” I am not exagerrating for effect. We handled hundreds of thousands of tests a week.

Again, I need to emphasize, government agencies. Ones you would know if I named them. Ones everyone in the country knows.

And we were in charge of getting their test results from the already over swamped labs back to the patients, who often were not allowed to quarantine while awaiting results.

The fastest we got our turnaround time to on any consistent basis was about 30 hours. Often it ballooned well into weeks.

There were a number of factors for this, but the big one was always understaffing.

The staff we did have were treated like trash. One of the big selling points of this company is how “trans friendly” it is to work there. That is a lie. Every trans employee on payroll had their dead name displayed to all other staff, and until I personally changed the system setup on my arrival, patient facing trans people’s dead names were displayed to patients.

Remember that thing about “hundreds of thousands of tests a week”?

I was able to change the way patient-facing names were displayed. I was not allowed or able to alter the way internal systems displayed trans people’s names. But I was assured that it’s fine, because once you get a legal name change, you’ll be given new system accounts with your new name!

Your old accounts with your dead name would still be displayed and associated with the new ones though.

This is the “trans friendly” working environment. We were allowed to be out of the closet, as long as we were willing to put up with that. And any attempts to get it altered were the result of those nasty little transgender ingrates not being thankful enough.

Meaning that by asking to use our own fucking names we were already in the disciplinary shitter.

Another big selling point is the ~racial diversity~. The CEO was a man of colour, and so were like four other people on staff!! Wow!!!!!!!

This, too, was laughable.

Once numbers started coming in about the care gap for COVID between English and Spanish speakers, and our Southwestern US service area began to have a separate and brutal backlog just of Spanish speaking patients, my employer encouraged me to interview potential hires who speak spanish.

Fair enough! We all wanted to do our part to help close the already massive mortality gap.

So, I found candidates, did interviews, hired them, trained them, etc. But I don’t speak Spanish. As a result, I appointed 2 assistant managers who do speak Spanish to assist me in managing, you know, like the job name.

So when my super contacted them directly, completely skipping me on the chain of command, and told them to stop all of our Spanish speakers from translating helpful simple messages to send to patients, and instead start translating medical and legal documents, they very reasonably assumed I was in the know and went ahead with it.

TO BE CLEAR, that could have ended my life, theirs, basically everyone involved. Everyone in the company would have been completely fucked. At that point, my subordinates, the people for whom I am wholly responsible, were doing everything from practicing medicine without licenses, to encouraging spanish speaking patients to enter contracts that no one on the fucking executive tier could even read.

The moment I found that out, I and the A.M.s immediately started trying to get actual medical translation services to do our documents. We collected them in a neat folder. We queried translation services. We got quotes. We contacted my super and the CEO, about this over and over again for months. In the late autumn, we received approval for one of the translation services.

The CEO decided at the last minute that having people with no medical or legal training draft medical and legal forms was fine and good actually, and refused to sign the contract or send the documents for translation.

The excuse I received was that the COVID emergency HIPAA relaxations would protect us.

That’s not how that works.

Throughout all of this, Spanish speaking employees were told to either keep doing medical and legal translation work, or lose their jobs.

Oh, did I mention everyone was working between 30 and 80 hours a week, and all of us were marked as “contractors” so the employer could tax evade? Don’t worry, we filed complaints with the labour bureau.

So the entire department was let go, and “rehired” as temps through a temp agency, which because it was a temp agency could keep them marked as contractors regardless of the facts.

This change was presented to all of us, myself included, as the company getting a new accountant to handle payroll.

So if you’re keeping score, we’ve covered racism, queerphobia, medical negligence, fraud, and a frankly uncountable number of deaths.

Let’s talk about the sheer negligence towards employees ourselves. If you’ve worked in near-death medical care before, or any number of emergency services really, you know that the standard benefit suite includes either a dedicated therapist for your staff, or access to peer support groups with other emergency and medical servants through your employer’s benefits program.

Do you know what our mental health benefits were for this company?

The CEO got on a fucking zoom call with us all one (1) time, and said that if we were feeling suicidal or traumatized by the work, to talk to him about it, and he would be our therapist.

Do you know how many people per fucking day we had to contact only to be told they had already died because our understaffing delays killed them? He doesn’t. He never listened when we told him.

But let me put the cherry on the “Oh baby, you can talk to me, oooh” sundae.

Anyone who “looked” or “sounded” female, regardless of actual or assigned gender, was subject to constant flirtations and slimy, overly personal compliments about our appearances. Fortunately, at 3 levels removed from the CEO (Executives > Department heads > Managers > Employees), most of the people under my management had relatively little contact with him.

I was not nearly so lucky.

The CEO of this company has a watersports (urination) fetish. I know this, because he told me so and attempted to get me to join him in it. I have no idea how many other people in the company he did this to. I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do, risk losing my job to find out? I have a fucking family to support, people.

Not that it mattered.

Eventually, all of these abuses became too much for my subordinates. Productivity fell off a cliff. Delays were getting worse and worse. In a medical emergency like this, delays=deaths.

So, like a fucking idiot, when the department heads reached out to me to ask what they could do to improve productivity, I shot down their frankly insulting suggestion of raffling a $20 amazon gift card to patient facing employees, and instead suggested a very simple, “enroll us with a peer support group, every single person in this department has PTSD from working in this pandemic.”

They were confused by my assertion of PTSD. I was asked to compile a document of complaints, concerns, and weaknesses in our patient facing services.

I and the A.M.s did so. It was roughly 40 pages long, with each page given a known problem, the reasons why it was a problem, and some potential solutions that might inspire further solutions or be able to be implemented. We submitted it. There was no response.

A week passed.

I had been working 80 hour weeks for most of a year. I hadn’t even been able to take weekends. I took my first sick day, in a company with “unlimited vacation days.”

I received a call at 3PM.

I had been fired for “differences in communitcation.” If you’ve ever seen that “Problem Women of Color in the workplace” chart? Yeah.

So had most of my department, including every transgender member of the department, and several of our extremely limited in supply Spanish speakers, who were presumed to be “on my side.”

Some of them, I barely even knew beyond the formalities of the job, and they were punished anyway.

I lost my insurance, and as a result I lost access to my medications.

But the real problem? I lost my house. And not due to lack of payment.

I lost my house, because when I got the job we waited 6 months for stability’s sake, and then readied to move out of the area. I got a mortgage on the basis of my employer’s written guarantee to the bank that I would continue to be employed for the next year at a minimum.

With the mortgage approval in hand, we entered a sales contract on our existing home.

We got and accepted an offer just days before I was fired. To keep our house meant paying a 25,000 dollar broken contract fine. We didn’t have that. We had a 10% down payment for a modest fucking place in a cheaper area, which is less than half that.

But without a job, my mortgage approval was also voided, meaning we couldn’t buy a house either.

All of a sudden, we were homeless during the plague, because my employer wrote and signed a letter to a bank guaranteeing my future employ, and then changed his mind when too many people died due to his own negligence.

Oh yeah, one last thing: the job paid less than Pandemic unemployment Assistance.

...After that, well, it’s homelessness until just last month. I... if you’ve never been homeless it’s.

It blurs. Everything is happening constantly, except for all the ways in which you are endlessly, mind breakingly bored. Bored, overloaded, and always uncomfortable.

Obviously my health would have declined regardless. Malnutrition, stress, everything.

But I was also unmedicated.

It was hell. I was in hell. I don’t know if I can recover from it, to be honest.

I bounced back from being homeless as a child. Children are as resilient as they are stupid, and the monstrosity of homelessness was little more than a vaguely remembered loathing and a panicky fear that it would ever happen again.

A child who is dying is worthy of sympathy, even if it is meaningless coos from passers by. If they have family, they may be able to rely on them too.

An adult with the indignity to die homeless and crippled, according to the average passer by, is worthy only of disgust and perhaps even punishment for being such a worthless waste.

My reward for nearly killing myself in a desperate bid to help stem the tide of COVID was the destruction of not only my life, not only my entire family’s lives, but the lives of every single family of every single employee who worked with me.

And you know what’s worse?

Each one of us still did more to limit the lethal impact of COVID than the entire united states government.

It breaks something in you, going through that.

It makes you realize that hope is a fool’s game.

But, I have ever been a fool, and so, I continue to play.

[official-weasley]

The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 2/6)

A fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

Warnings: dragon abuse Word Count: 2,266

“Are you ready?” Matthew was standing with me by the gates of the reserve, his arms crossed on his chest and looking like he will burst from excitement any moment now.

It’s been a week since I found out that I am going to work with a 1-year-old Hebridean Black. That, however, has been the only information Matt has given me. He has been awfully secretive about this dragon and no matter how many times I asked him about it he just told me not to worry and that I will have all my questions answered once the dragon arrives.

Today was that day and I couldn’t help but feel nervous. Not only because I didn’t know what to expect and the whole thing seemed to amuse my boss very much but also because this was a Hebridean Black – my favorite breed of dragon.

We don’t have a rule book here in the Sanctuary but we do have a few protocols we have to obey.

Wear your protective gear at work.

If you get injured, stop what you are doing immediately and find a healer.

No matter how vicious the dragon is, try to stay as calm as possible because they sense fear.

We don’t get promoted but are assigned to dragons based on our experience.

In the first year when we arrive here, we work with researchers to observe dragons – learn about their behavior and eating patterns.

In the second and third years, we either get assigned to Common Welsh Greens or Antipodean Opaleyes. If we are doing great with the latter, our superior might assign us to one of the fliers so we can start training to fly on a dragon.

That is a crucial practice for working with dragons later on because part of the daily routine is to take them out for a flight. The training usually lasts for 6 months and then we have to pass the flying exam – which I passed with flying colors on the first try, of course!

Then in year four we usually continue with Opaleyes. I was lucky enough to get a chance to work with two Chinese Fireballs.

In years five and six we are assigned to a new breed, the Swedish Short-Snout, and we train with the healers to learn how to heal and recognize symptoms if the dragon we work with shows any signs of sickness.

For me, that dragon was a Norwegian Ridgeback. I wasn’t experienced enough to work with the breed but due to a shortage of dragonologists, Matthew assigned the dragon to me anyway, and even though it wasn’t the easiest dragon to work with I had a pleasant enough experience with it that I now visit its habitat a few times per month to say hello.

In year eight or nine we can sign up for an exchange program. It means we go and work in one of the other dragon reserves. My wish was to work in the Swedish Reserve for one year and I was over the roof when my application was approved.

My boss wanted me to apply to the Chinese Reserve so that I could work with Fireballs since I have already dealt with them but I heard that even though the Swedish Reserve mostly works with Short-Snouts they had a Peruvian Vipertooth and a Ukrainian Ironbelly.

I know I shouldn’t have gone against my boss and try and work with dragons I wasn’t ready for but I just couldn’t help myself. I knew I would be less monitored there and nobody would tell me I can’t work with a certain dragon so I had to try.

Working with a sick Norwegian Ridgeback was harder than trying to befriend a Ukrainian Ironbelly. The latter looks like it’s going to eat you at any given moment but they are harmless even though they are huge compared to the other dragons.

Because I got a certificate of successfully taming both a Vipertooth and an Ironbelly, Matthew was so impressed that once I got back I was assigned to work with 3 different dragons.

I couldn’t believe that he allowed me to work with a Peruvian Vipertooth and not one but two Romanian Longhorns. I nagged him to assign me to one of those dragons for a year before my year in Sweden and he always said I wasn’t ready. But when I came back with the letter from my Swedish trainer, Matthew couldn’t believe how well I did and decided to give me a chance to work with dragons completely on my own.

I have been working with Hel, Lasair, and Rocker for over a year and I am doing great. All three of them listen to me and I have no trouble going through their daily routines. They trust me and I have learned so much from them in such a short amount of time. And apparently, it shows since my boss assigned me to the Hebridean Black.

“I would love to say that I am ready but the look on your face concerns me.” I lifted an eyebrow at him, my palms getting sweatier.

“Look, for how many years have you been begging me to let you work with a Black? Now you’re trying to chicken out?” He smirked.

“No, of course, not. I am just curious why the sudden change of hearts. Isn’t it too dangerous? Aren’t I unqualified to take care of a Hebridean Black?”

“Asterin.”

“What?” I turned my head to him, with more questions in my head than before.

“The dragon’s name is Asterin.” He explained and nodded toward the gate where 7 wizards appeared along with a big cage with a dragon chained inside.

We hurried to them and helped them unload the dragon. I had so many questions. We have never received a dragon that was chained or that needed so many people escorting it. What was Matthew not telling me?

They told us not to take the beast out of the cage until we reach its assigned habitat. Matt called 4 of my co-workers to help levitate the cage to a secluded area that was going to be Asterin’s home for the next 3 months.

Every time we get a new dragon to live in our reserve, we put it far away from the rest of the dragons so that it can get used to the environment change first before it’s introduced to other dragons. Then we determine if the dragon is capable of living with another of its breed – we never put more than 3 together – or if they’d prefer to have their own habitat. After those 3 months, the proper training can begin.

“I need some answers.” I frowned at my boss when we were left alone with the new dragon.

“Okay, so the dragon was put through a lot. She has trust issues and is very untamed for her age. She doesn’t want to fly and barely eats anything.” He explained.

“That’s why she’s so small for her age?” I leaned to the right to get a glimpse of Asterin behind Matthew.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“But I don’t understand. The dragonologists that brought her here are from the MacFusty clan. They take care of Hebridean Blacks, why was she brought here and where did they get her from?”

“They found her.”

“What do you mean they found her? You don’t simply stumble upon a dragon!” I furrowed my brows.

“But they did – abandoned in the forest close to their reserve. They heard her cries. She had both her wings broken and half of her teeth were missing.” Matthew continued.

“That would explain the not eating and flying part.” I could feel the heat on my face. If she was found like that someone had to hurt her and then just left her. How could someone do something like that to such a beautiful creature? Why would they hurt a dragon?

“They tried taking care of her,” Matt explained further, “but after not making any progress for more than half a year they contacted me.” He locked eyes with mine and it seemed he was trying to read my face.

“What’s with the look?”

“You know that you need 15+ years of experience to work with a Hebridean Black here.”

“I do. That’s why I asked you about 50 times in the last week why did you pick me?” My heart was racing, knowing I will finally get the answer to my question.

“I didn’t.” Matt cleared his throat.

“What?” “I didn’t pick you. They did.”

“Who? The MacFusty family?” I don’t think I was ever this confused – this didn’t make any sense. I knew about the clan. They were famous for taking in Hebridean Blacks and taking care of them before releasing them into the wild but there was no way they could know about me.

“They knew that the dragon needed better care and even though their property is expanding they reckoned it would be better if the dragon is moved to a bigger reserve,” Matthew said. “They contacted the Swedish Dragon Sanctuary and they recommended the dragon to be transported here, into your care.”

“The Swedish Sanctuary?” I said more to myself than to him.

“I guess they were impressed with how a 27-year-old tamed a Ukranian Ironbelly as if it was no big deal. And your trainer, Oskar, found it amusing when you called them extra large Cruppies.” Matthew playfully shook his head.

“Well, they are. Their size is just deceiving.” I defended my statement.

“Charles, you must’ve done something to impress them so much that they thought of you when they found out about Asterin’s situation.” Matthew put his hand on my shoulder and winked at me.

“And you just agreed?” I narrowed my eyes at him. I still couldn’t believe it. They singlehandedly picked me? They thought of me to help the dragon?

I took a deep breath. I was prepared for anything when Matt was keeping all of this a secret from me but I didn’t think that this involved me on such a large scale. This was a great honor, an honor about which I didn’t know how to feel. I am good with dragons but I am not that good, am I?

It rarely happens that a dragonologist is recommended to be assigned to a dragon, especially if they are 28 years old. I’m still learning. I am still observing and studying the dragons and now the MacFusty family knows my name?

I rubbed my eyes thinking I was dreaming. This opportunity won’t only escalate my career and make my day-to-day more fun, it will also make my dream to work with a Hebridean Black come true.

“I don’t know what to say.” Was all I could muster.

“Just enjoy it, Charles. I know how much you like a challenge.” He tapped me twice on the shoulder and walked away.

I swallowed thickly and looked at the dragon who was standing still and being aware of every speck that moved.

“Hi.” I waved slowly. “My name is Charlie and I’ll be your buddy for the foreseeable future.”

The dragon’s tail started to move from left to right and I was pretty sure that if I took a step forward I would get scorched.

“It’s okay. I mean you no harm.” I bowed my head, maintaining eye contact, and then sat on the ground. “See, if you want you can eat me right now.”

I looked at Asterin’s claws which were dug deep into the earth beneath her paws. It meant that she was tense and stressed and didn’t believe a word I said to her.

“I can leave if you want. Just let me come back so I can give you some dinner.” I started to stand up but a roar straight to my face made me sit back down.

“Okay, okay. You do not agree with me leaving. I understand.” I lifted my hands in defense.

I felt like my heart was going to escape my ribcage any moment now. I wasn’t scared. I was thrilled. I could see that this was going to be a tough challenge and I couldn’t wait to see how everything will unfold.

I sat still and had a staring contest with Asterin for the next 3 hours. My bum and back were killing me but I didn’t care. The dragon didn’t move a muscle and her claws were still dug deep into the ground.

“Asterin, it’s time for dinner. How about you let me stand up?” I motioned with my head to the sky – it being dark, that’s how long we sat together in silence.

The dragon didn’t move nor blinked so I inhaled sharply and without exhaling stood up slowly, maintaining eye contact. Asterin let out a silent growl but didn’t roar, which was a good sign. I backed away and once I was out of her sight I hurried to get her food. Hebridean Blacks love venison so that was what I was going to get her.

As I was heading out of the food supply hut, I grabbed a bag of apples just in case Asterin is a vegetarian like Crystal.

The whole way back to the dragon I was debating whether or not I should stay and observe her eating or should I just leave her alone. I wanted to see if she will even want to eat and if it’s painful when she chews the meat.

My decision, however, didn’t matter when I came back with the dinner and Asterin was nowhere to be found.

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.9)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Nine) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2,991 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Author’s Note: I apologize if the tags haven’t been working. I was using the new beta editor but I’ve switched back to traditional! BTW, I think I am coming up to the close on the fic soon! Just a head’s up.

Part Eight || Part Ten || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~A month ago…

You heard someone walk into the living room and you peeked out from your cocoon of blankets you had set up for yourself, curled up on the couch, watching tv. Happy cocked an eyebrow seeing you, his eyes running over the seltzer water and all the blankets.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I don’t feel great,” you said, taking another sip of your water. You wished Tony was home, but he had gone on a business trip. Happy had stayed behind to keep an eye on you. Tony trusted him more than any of his other men to make sure you were kept safe in his absence.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” Happy asked concerned.

You shrugged, “I’m just nauseous. I don’t think it’s anything serious. I might have eaten something bad.”

Happy did not look convinced. “Tell me if it gets worse. And I’ll get you an appointment.”

Nodding, you picked your water back up and took another drink, hoping the carbonation would help settle your stomach. You did not even bother to tell Tony later around dinner time when he called to check in, brushing it off.

It subsided later in the day and you thought you were in the clear until the next morning – very early, 4:00am – it hit again. Groaning, you could not ignore the swirling and you got out of bed, rubbing at your eyes.

FRIDAY set on the baseboard lights as you walked downstairs to guide your way.

You opened the bag of bread and took a slice out, stuffing it into your mouth as you closed the bag back up. Taking a large bite, you chewed slowly. Maybe you were having acid reflux and the bread would help soak it up.

You meandered, swallowing the first bite, as you approached the door to the patio. You laid your hand on it and it unlocked for you. Stepping outside, you inhaled the fresh air deeply. That made you feel slightly better.

<><><>

In Berlin, Tony’s watch beeped. He looked away from the table where he was having a late lunch with a fellow boss and their crew that was helping him secure capital in the city. FRIDAY was alerting him that Y/N had activated the system to go outside. His face screwed up in confusion, calculating quickly what time it was back home in Malibu. It would be a little after 4:25am.

“Excuse me, would you?” Tony asked and the other boss nodded, taking a drink of their beer. Tony slipped his tablet out of his bag as he left the table.

Walking away from the table, he moved towards the balcony overlooking the city. Holding the tablet up, he accessed the cameras at home, pulling up the outside cameras since she had left to the patio. He was on edge, wondering what the hell she was doing outside so early.

She was just sitting in one of the chairs, eating a piece of bread, which only served to confuse him more. But at least she was there; she had not run off.

He watched her for a few moments before movement by the door caught his eye and he saw Happy step outside.

“Good man,” Tony said under his breath, knowing FRIDAY would have alerted Happy too in the guest room he was in per Tony’s programming. He would have been severely disappointed if Happy had not come outside to check on her.

The two of them were speaking and Tony did not miss the concerned look on Happy’s face.

Suddenly, Y/N jerked forward, vomiting all over the cement, barely missing Happy’s slippers much to Tony’s shock. Was she hung over? That would explain the bread.

Happy came closer and his hand came to her back, steadying her as she leaned over the side of the chair. He was speaking quickly to her and she shook her head, and he shook his right back at her. Tony watched Happy settle her back and hold up a hand to her, before he went back towards the door, leaving her out there.

When he came back out, he had some napkins and some water. She shook her head at the water and he forced it towards her.

“Looks like someone had a little too much fun last night,” Tony said to himself before closing the camera. He had no further reason to be concerned about it; it looked like Happy had it perfectly under control.

Which is why when he had just got sat back down at the table, his cell phone started to ring. The other boss laughed at his expense, making a comment about him being a busy man. Tony apologized and checked his watch, seeing it was Happy. He excused himself again quickly and got up.

“What?” Tony asked. “I just got sat down at the table.”

“I’m gonna make an appointment for Y/N. Where do you want her to go?” Happy cut in immediately.

“What? What for?”

“She doesn’t feel good.”

“Yeah, I saw. Got a good view of that vomit. How much did she have to drink last night?”

“Nothing. She didn’t drink anything,” Happy told him, surprising Tony. “She didn’t feel well yesterday either and I told her to tell me if it got worse. Did she tell you when she spoke to you on the phone last night?”

“No. What do you mean she’s not feeling well?”

“Nausea she said. Maybe she has a stomach bug, I don’t know. But food poisoning doesn’t generally last two days.”

Tony rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Um, just take her to my guy. She’s on my insurance plan. She’s been to him before.”

“Not the ER?”

“You think it’s an ER type of situation?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, throwing up usually isn’t an ER thing but I don’t know.”

“Did she throw up yesterday?”

“No, not that I know of.”

“No other symptoms?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” Tony said to himself more than anything. He pondered on it and tapped the railing as he weighed the options. Something came to him then and he straightened up. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought more about it.

“Boss?”

Shaking his head, Tony cleared his throat, “You know, no. On second thought, no. No doctor or ER.”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m heading back tonight. You know, if she starts showing other symptoms, take her to the doctor. My guy. But I think she’ll be fine.”

Happy said slowly, “Um, alright…”

“Morning sickness, Hap. Not to get too excited about it yet but… fits the bill.”

“Oh,” Happy said and Tony could hear the realization peaking in his voice. “Right.”

“So, just keep an eye on her. I’ll be on the plane soon and then I’ll just stop on the way home at the pharmacy. Get a test,” Tony said, feeling lighter about the situation. “Order her some 7-Up or something, soups. Just keep her comfortable for me, yeah?”

“You got it,” Happy confirmed.

<><><>

“We have lunch plans, but Tony is taking forever,” you told Steve as the two of you boarded the elevator to go down further into the building.

Anticipation was nipping at your heels; you had not explored this part of the building yet. Steve had come to speak to Tony but when he was told by Angelica that Tony was busy, he was quick to brush off needing to see him. He just needed to go downstairs to pick something up. You had practically thrown down the magazine you were pretending to read, asking if you could come with. He had been polite and courteous, telling you he would love the company. Angelica looked like she wanted to say something, but you purposely ignored her, walking by and following Steve.

“Oh? Where are you going for lunch?” Steve asked interested.

“This place Pepper suggested. Mario’s. Up in the Bronx.”

“Never been.”

“I trust her opinion. She seems to know what she’s talking about.”

“That she does,” Steve smiled back.

“What are you doing here though?” you inquired, switching gears.

“I need another set of batteries for one of my weapons.”

“You couldn’t go to the store?” you asked confused.

Steve chuckled, throwing you an amused look. “No, they’re special batteries.”

“Oh…”

Steve immediately noticed your embarrassment and he quickly said, “Not like you would know that. That’s something I would think too. But the batteries are special. What you said was logical.”

Logical. Not an adjective you heard attributed to you often. Maybe never.

The elevator door opened, and you hesitated seeing the men standing guard outside it but Steve strode out, unperturbed by them. You followed him, catching up to his long strides.

“Why did you want to come down here though besides Tony taking too long?” Steve asked, eyeing you curiously as the pair of you walked.

“One, I was bored as you can imagine, waiting for him to finish whatever he was doing. And two, Tony didn’t let me see anything except his office or the boardroom since I’ve been here. Said it wasn’t important for me to see it. But I want to.”

“Hmm,” Steve said shooting you a look. “You think you should be down here then?”

“I don’t see why not. I can keep secrets well enough if that’s what everyone is worried about.”

Steve’s lips curled into a soft smile at that, his eyes running over you.

You were taking in all the people working, the technology they were using. It was like the garage back home where Tony worked but far, far more busy. It was a little overwhelming.

Steve was nodding at random people who greeted him in awe. He came to a stop in front of someone though standing behind a desk.

She looked up and smiled, recognizing him on sight. “That was quick, Cap.” He eyes turned to you and she faltered, “And…”

“Y/N. Tony’s wife,” Steve introduced you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you,” she apologized immediately. You took note that her bade said her name was Eva.

“How could you have? I’ve never been down here before,” you said, giving her a small reassuring smile.

She relaxed at your calm demeanor and turned to grab something off the desk behind her. Handing it to Steve, she told him, “So, there’s backups in there too so you don’t need to make another trip so soon.”

“Nice, that’s thoughtful. Thank you,” Steve commented.

“You’re going to want to update your system though. I’ll send you a link to do so on the secure network,” Eva went on explaining.

“Alright, I’ll figure it out.” Steve looked at you and said sheepishly, “Tech isn’t my strong point. I have gotten better though, so there’s hope.”

“I can’t keep up with Tony sometimes and I’ve been around technology my whole life. I mean, my whole house is a giant computer essentially,” you responded. “Could not even begin to explain to you how it works.”

“It’s complicated but it’s helpful right?” Eva asked lightheartedly. You nodded and she said, “I’ll be the first to admit I wouldn’t be able to keep up with how Mr. Stark talks about tech either. Could not even begin to fathom how his brain works. I swear he’s not speaking English sometimes when he’s giving presentations.”

You snorted, as did Steve. “I can attest to that,” Steve agreed. “I just let him lead when it comes to this type of stuff.”

You could relate to that. You let Tony lead in pretty much every facet.

“Same. It’s just easier to stand behind him,” you said. Steve’s brow creased at your comment and you suddenly felt uncomfortable. Trying to draw attention away from it, you gestured at the box. “May I?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve said, handing it over to you.

You opened the box and touched the odd shaped metal. “Definitely doesn’t look like normal batteries.”

“Nope,” Eva agreed.

Steve was looking at you with purpose when you handed the box back to him. His gaze slid to Eva and he asked, “Do you have some time?”

“For what, Mr. Rogers?”

“A small tour. Mrs. Stark hasn’t been able to see around the building because Tony has been busy, and a little explanation of some things down here might scratch her itch?” Steve looked at you for approval. “I mean, if you want that, of course.”

Excitement flared up and you nodded, “Yeah. I probably have time. Especially if there’s things to look at that won’t put me in a ‘we can show you but then we will have to kill you’ type of spot.”

Eva laughed at that. “There’s some of that available, yes.” She gestured past the desk behind her. “Shall we?”

Steve held out his arm to you and you took it appreciatively.

Eva started at a microchip, explaining it had the startings of being able to upload a personality to a robot to mimic a sentient being.

“So, like Vision?” you asked.

“Yes. Like Vision. But definitely nowhere near as advanced or powerful as he is. This is… it would be like a bodyguard for example?”

“A nanny for the baby when you need a break?” Steve joked quietly into your ear. You looked at him perplexed at the admission he knew and his smile fell. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—Tony told the team. I’m sorry if it was still supposed to be a secret?”

You waved it off quickly. “It’s fine. It’s you guys he told. You’re not nobodies.”

Though you did dislike that Tony was being so free with the information. You were only about two months along. He was getting too excited about it too soon whereas you were worried, your pessimism getting the better of you.

“And I’m sure I’ll need a break,” you joked back to Steve and he relaxed as the two of you followed Eva, her pointing things out that she could share.

You were so engrossed in what she was saying you only saw Tony’s reflection in the glass wall behind her at the last second.

You turned your head quickly and said innocently, “You’re done upstairs, then?”

“Rogers,” Tony said tightly, his eyes shooting to your arms intertwined before snapping back to Steve’s face. He looked very suspicious; you knew that look. Jealousy.

“Tony,” Steve returned, and he gracefully let your arm fall. He held up the box, “Thanks for the battery replacement. And the reminder to come grab it. I definitely would have forgotten without it.”

Tony by stepped his last comments. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Steve said, tossing Eva a look. He held up the box to her now and said, “Thanks for being so prompt with this. It was helpful. And thanks for the walk.”

<><><>

When they were out of earshot, Tony told him firmly in hushed tones, “I’m not sure why you thought it was appropriate but don’t bring Y/N down here in the future.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know she wasn’t allowed until we were already down here,” Steve said and he saw Tony frown deeply. “She did say you didn’t wanna show her around the building after we came down here and I did ask if she thought she should be down here at all. Figured to just keep her close until we went back upstairs.”

“No, she shouldn’t be down here. I don’t want her knowing anything. Puts her at risk, knowledge. Kidnappings and whatnot.”

“I think being married to you, Tony, is what puts her at risk for that.”

Tony’s closed lipped smile did not reach his eyes; he was not amused with Steve’s quip.

“Regardless, for the future, don’t let the curiosity kill the cat. She’s better off naïve about it. Even if she’s learning on the arm of America’s golden boy.”

Silence ate away at the two of them for a few moments before Steve shrugged, relenting. He said stoically, “Understood.”

“Good,” Tony clipped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my wife and I have lunch plans and I fear I’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

Steve shook his head as soon as Tony brushed past him, leaving him by the elevator.

<><><>

You had thanked Eva before telling her she should probably go back to work now that the boss was in the room. She picked up on your joke but did it all the same. You paced slowly, watching carefully as Tony spoke with Steve. They were both tense and you sighed, knowing he was likely cursing Steve for assisting you down here. He really did not want you to know anything about most of his work whether it be here or out on the streets or in the political arena.

He came back to you and you gave him a smile, that he did not return.

“What were you doing down here?” he asked tightly, his hand coming to the small of your back and directing you back towards the elevator where he had left Steve who had already gone back up.

“Looking around,” you told him. “I was bored.”

“Do you not remember me telling you to not go poking around?”

“Yes, but I was curious.”

“It would make me happy if you would listen to me,” Tony said, nodding at one of his workers as he passed. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, kitten?”

“85 percent of the time,” you quipped, trying to get him to smile. But he still did not and your own slowly melted away as he responded.

“I think that sounds about right.”

There was something off about him, but you could not figure out what. You elected to stay quiet the rest of the stride to the elevator. He pressed the button to the elevator to come back down, his fingers on his other hand drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. Every so often though, his fingers dug in slightly and you did your best to not flinch away.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

[beomglocks]

soob become human ; c.sb

pairing: android!soobin x police detective!y/n

plot: your job is fairly simple, find out the cause of the recent surges of deviancy in androids. the only problem is that you hate androids, but it’s ok because you have a newly appointed partner and- oh wait he’s an android. 

w/c: 6.3K (this took me longer than it should have)

warnings & other:  enemies(?) to lovers(?), enemies (?) to less hated enemies, based off detroit become human, lots of swearing, android!soobin, human!y/n, blood, dead people, a crime scene is described but not in too much detail, soobin is definetly not a deviant, y/n hates soobin and pretty much all androids, y/n is kinda an ass to soobin, semi slow burn, open ended

you were seething with rage though you somehow managed to contain it. you wanted to hold it in long enough to really explode when you walked into your boss's office. you tramp past the receptionist in the lobby and don't even smile at her. you never do since she's not even a human. you hate how she's programmed to sit idly with an eerie smile on her face and welcome guests.

"hey y/n!" you hear your friend, hueningkai, shout at you. you wonder how he can be so loud and full of energy after 5 hours of working at his desk but you keep marching on, not acknowledging his greeting.

you have your eyes set out on your boss's office and the fire in your eyes is set alight when you notice him sitting at his desk peacefully. thank god, for the see-through box offices cyberlife installed last year.

he notices your figure striding up angrily towards his office and you see him sigh. good, at least he knows what's he's in for! you march up the stairs with your head held high because you were really about to give him a piece of your mind right now.

you stop just at the edge of his desk and rummage through your crossbody bag for something. it takes you a while which is embarrassing since he just sits there looking at you expectantly. "ah," you pull out a crumpled up piece of paper, which you yourself crumbled up out of anger, and slam it harshly on his desk.

"excuse me but what the fuck is this?"

he glances down at the paper and back up at you with a bored expression. "that's a piece of paper y/n." you chuckle bitterly and place your hands on your hips. "i'm talking about the contents of the paper sir."

you watch him open up the paper gingerly and skim over the words printed. "oh yeah," he crumbles the paper again tossing it into the bin. he sighs heavily getting in his serious work position with his hands crossed in front of him. he's a big burly kind of guy so it always somewhat intimidates you when he does this.

"we're getting weekly reports of androids going haywire. everyday i've gotta deal with a new report. i'm not talking the usual malfunction and spilling coffee. this is homicides and assaults. just last night a woman was murdered in cold blood by her android. this isn't cyberlife's problem anymore, these are criminals now."

you stay quiet, taking in what he's saying. "regarding the contents of the paper, i want you to investigate them." you clench your fists and narrow your eyes at him. "why me?" you burst after a moment of letting your anger rise again. you realize you sound like a child whose just gotten told they have to dishes while their sibling goofs off but you don't care.

"i'm the least qualified person to handle these cases plus i've got other shit to worry about! i don't want to deal with those pieces of junk!"

the chief office stands up, eyeing you sternly. now you've done it. "y/n don't piss me off. you know you're the most qualified so don't start with that bullshit. i don't wanna hear any complaints out of you." he doesn't raise his voice and that kind of alarms you but you press on.

"no! you know that no one else in this goddamn precinct wants to deal with these androids so of course, you left me to pick up the dog shit!"

"watch your tone detective," he seethes. he sighs heavily trying to regain himself before he really bursts a vessel. he cozies back into his desk chair and rubs his temples. you, on the other hand, are breathing heavily and pacing back and forth. you can't believe he would put you on an android case of all things.

you were seriously being relieved of all other duties to investigate a bunch of ones and zeros. but that wasn't even the best part.

"i'm assigning you a partner to assist you in the investigation."

you stop in your tracks, eyes widening. "hell fucking no!" you rage. you march back up to his desk and lean over the edge. "chief i always ride solo. ever since i joined i've always been alone and have been doing just fine! i don't need help!"

"y/n i think i've had enough of your bitching and whining. i don't care that you're the best worker in this fucking precinct. if you don't like the circumstances you can hand in your badge right this instant. otherwise, shut your fucking mouth and get back to work," he says through gritted teeth.

you scoff in his face and as you walk out of his office you flip him off. "that's going on your track record detective!" he says matter of factly.

"shove it up yo-"

you sigh as you enter your office. "fuuuuuuuck," you groan. you look around and notice that there's a tiny replica of your desk on the other side of your office. you can only assume it's meant for your partner. the sudden urge to destroy it and throw everything across the room crosses your mind but you decide against it.

having a partner assigned to you was a jab at your pride. everyone knew you as the detective who never needed one, the lone wolf if you will. if anyone saw you being assisted they would immediately think that the position of "best officer" was up for grabs, when it wasn't.

you didn't wanna be that person but of course, you held that title over everyone's head.

you huff, throwing yourself onto your chair which causes it to spin around. you don't even know this supposed partner of yours. most likely for a good reason too. you can only imagine your reaction if the chief had presented your new partner right then and there. a firm knock on your door startles you, "come in," you mumble. you're really not in the mood to entertain any of your work friends so you hope this is quick.

you look at the figure standing idly by the frame of the door. he's tall with a three-piece suit on. he's oddly handsome with little to no flaws which is suspicious to you. his hair is dark with hints of blue peeking out and it's pushed back to show his forehead. the stark contrast of his dark hair and fair skin makes him look very pale and almost sick. he has some files in his hands and his face is stoic, almost emotionless but not stern. he looks boyish.

what you don't notice is the ring of light located on his temple since it blends in so well with his skin. "how many times do i have to tell people that complaints are sent next door to hueningkai, god i really need to get a sign or some shit," you groan rubbing your face in frustration. you lower your hands and the person is still there.

"hello, my name is choi soobin. i'm the android sent by cyberlife to assist you with your detective duties," he states monotonously as if he's reading from a script.

the gears in your head churn for a while but once the words process you groan once again and roll your eyes to the back of your head, "why am i not surprised that chief would fuck me over even more like this. of course my partner is a fucking andriod." soobin steps completely into your office shutting the door behind him. "are you y/n?" he asks politely.

"un-fucking-fortunately."

"nice to meet you!" he seemingly ignores your sarcastic comment and your wonder if he even knows what sarcasm is. "i hope we can be good partners. i have already received the files on our first case together, here they are," he places the files on your desk and you can only look up at him in disgust.

"well you're a well-trained dog arent you?" you mumble. "y/n with all due respect i am not a dog. im an android designed by cyberlife to merely assist with certain tasks and finish my mission. i'm one of the most advanced of my kind." you look at the tag on his suit: KR900. you sigh, nodding, "got it got it, now if you'll excuse me, it's time for my daily nap so scram."

you lean back in your chair and close your eyes. man, if soobin was gonna be your partner you'd have to extend nap time by at least 30 minutes. you wonder if you can get away with adding another hour to your naptime.

you hear someone clearing their throat beside you. you hope that if you keep your eyes closed they'll get the hint to leave you alone. after about a minute the person speaks up, "y/n we should probably start with the case as soon as possible." great, soobin.

you open your eyes to glare at him. "listen, soobin? was it? go fuck yourself ok?" you close your eyes again and fold your arms over your chest. god, soobin's already being a nuisance. you're not sure if whatever this is is going to work out.

he stays silent for a moment and you wonder if he can feel the feeling of frustration. you hope he can because he might be able to get a sense of how you felt towards this whole situation. you start to drift when you feel an odd warmth radiating on the side of your face.

"with all due respect detective. i've been assigned to this mission and i intend to carry it out and complete it to the very end. i'm not going to sit around and wait for you to simply 'feel like it'."

your eyes fly open and you stare at him bewilderedly. he's very close to your face and his expression is stony but of course, he still has that boyish look.

you stand up, frowning at him. "let's get one thing very straight, tin can." you shove your finger into his chest which strangely doesn't feel too much like hard metal. "i call the shots around here so i won't be taking orders from a walking computer. i don't give a damn if you're leagues smarter than me, piss me off one more time and i won't hesitate to deactivate you myself."

you step away from him and he doesn't seem affected. he simply brushes his suit off. you scoff, grabbing your keys from your desk. "by the way i already know where the crime scene is so try to catch up next time, puppy."

when you both arrive at the crime scene there's already a plethora of police with their hound dogs and the yellow barricade tape is being set up. this must've been a pretty brutal scene for there to be this many people dispatched to this location. you're not surprised that there's people here and there trying to get a sneak peek at what might've happened.

"y/n! y/n!" you hear someone frantically yelling out your name.

you look around and see yeonjun, another police detective who's not from your unit, running up to you. he engulfs you into a bear hug, letting his trenchcoat pick up from the wind. you smile for what feels like the first time today, "hey yeonjun." once upon a time you liked choi yeonjun, you still do in a way. he was always on top of his game which you admired and you two would always compete when it came to cases. he was unbelievably smart so he probably knew about your little crush on him. if he did, he never addressed it and still treated you like a close friend.

"it's weird seeing you at the scene so early, we're just finishing setting up the yellow tape," he smiles at you but you can see his confusion. you were known to be late to these scenes but somehow still did well and always cracked the case. you didn't like to be around all the other police and detectives when you were in the zone.

"chief assigned me a new partner who insisted i arrive accordingly," you roll your eyes playfully to mask the annoyance. you don't bother to introduce soobin, who had been standing behind you silently this whole time, because he introduces himself. "hello, my name is choi soobin. i'm the android sent by cyberlife to assist y/n with their detective duties," he says monotonously.

yeonjun stares at soobin with an impressed look, "woah, chief got you a robot? he must love you" he jokes. "love me? this is a shit way of showing it," you mumble.

"y/n ever the comedian," yeonjun laughs deeply. you smile shyly at him. "i guess..anyways what's the scene looking like?" yeonjun leans back on the barricade looking back at the house you have yet to enter.

"looks like another case of deviancy to me," he sucks his teeth in thought. "man these androids are really going haywire these days, killing their owners, assaulting them, or just simply running off. seems like some kind of uprising? the machines seem to be rebelling," he glances at soobin who is already looking at him.

yeonjun chuckles lowly and leans down towards your ear subtly. "be careful ok?" he leans back up and stretches his arms. "trust me i know," you mutter. you both smile at each other and he winks at you. "well i'm off to do my own sleuthing! let me know if you find anything, you always do after all."

you watch him jog off and sigh to yourself. you turn to soobin, "right, let's get on with it." before he can take another step forward you stop him in his tracks. "and don't get in my way." soobin nods but stays silent. "i'm gonna need a verbal answer," you really don't care if he answers you or not you just want to annoy him. "i will do what i need to, to complete my mission," he looks at you with a weird glint in his eye and you kinda hate him even more now.

you roll your eyes and walk through the door of the house you're meant to be investigating. the smell of booze and musk smacks you in the face and you have to physically hold back the bile rising up your throat. "

"man whoever lived here was a pig!" you gag. you look back at soobin who has a neutral but curious face. "right you can't actually smell things," you mumble. you grab the collar of your jacket and cover the bottom half of your face with it.

as you walk deeper into the house you start to really see what went down. glass covers pretty much the entirety of the floor from a window near the tv. the tv is busted and there's writings on the wall. you look around the living room and that's actually when you discover the body.

it seems to have been there for a couple of days now since there's maggots hovering over it. the man's face is beaten badly and blood runs down it onto his tattered shirt. he's slumped over and there's blood on the wall that states 'we are alive'.

"jesus christ," you mumble to no one in particular. you watch soobin hunch over the body and dip his finger into the blood on the wall near it. he's about to bring it near his mouth but you stop him. "god what the fuck are you doing!" you think the bile you were holding back is really about to come out and you're scared you'll ruin the crime scene.

he looks back at you with an unreadable expression. "im analyzing the blood." he turns his back to you again takes a lap of the blood. "you're fucking gross," you chastise.

"the blood is from the victim," he finalizes. "damn his android must've really wanted to make a statement here. 'we are alive'? what do you think that means?" you ask him.

soobin stands up straight again, looking around the flat, "deviancy of course. judging by the looks of it, this wasn't a very habitable place. the android must've gotten fed up and rebelled against its owner." he thinks to himself. "this shouldn't be happening, it must be some kind of virus because androids were only meant to serve, they shouldn't have to capability to harm much less kill."

you sigh, already hating where this case and the mission overall is going. "let's just look around for clues. i doubt the android could've gotten far, it must feel guilty or something."

soobin shakes his head, "androids don't feel y/n." you raise your brow at his statement, "one does not simply kill another being without feeling. an emotion or feeling of some sort is triggered which causes someone to act out in this way."

you walk away to the kitchen to look for clues there but soobin just stands there watching you. he frowns but joins you minutes later.

after about a half hour of looking for any clues, you've managed to gain a lot of evidence with soobin's help. there had been a struggle in the kitchen which led to the living room where the place of death was determined. soobin described the altercation as very brutal for both parties.

"so where's the android?" you ask after his explanation. "it's near," he mumbles. he surveys the room once again and spots something. you watch him do the same procedure he had done with the victim's blood. "there's nothing there," you say skeptically.

"it's android blood, or blue blood as you humans call it. not visible to the human eye but any android can spot it from a mile away."

when he's done he looks around once again and follows a sort of trail. he stops near the attic door and sighs. he pulls it open with caution and you can only wonder what he's up to.

he peeks in then hoists himself up into it. "wha-" "stay here," he demands. "hey what did i sa-"

before you can scold him he's already in the attic and slammed the door in your face. "didn't know androids had a prick feature," you mutter.

after 5 minutes you start to hear noises of struggling and things falling over. "soobin?" you shout. "what's going on up there?" you don't actually care if he's ok or not but one scratch on him and you'll be paying the damages.

he doesn't answer, instead, the struggling comes to a halt. you jump as he slams open the attic door. you give him a once over and it doesn't look like he has any scratches on him so you sigh to yourself gratefully. looking down you see an android wriggling in handcuffs, you assume it's the murderer. "i got him," soobin huffs.

"y/n? you in h- woah," yeonjun breathes out. he looks over the both of you then at the android on the ground near soobin. "damn." you nod, agreeing with his one-word statement. soobin folds his arms looking down at the android. the android is rightfully glaring back up at him. "he was hiding up there, probably thought no one would find him. well, no human would've at least."

"we should take it back to the station for questioning. the more info we get out of it, the closer we are to figuring out the cause of this 'deviancy'," yeonjun concludes. you nod, turning to soobin, "good job puppy." he makes a face but accepts your praise either way.

after finalizing your first deviant case, you decided to ask yeonjun out for burgers two days later as a celebratory measure. he had told you he was going to be busy filing some other cases so you opted for going alone. alone is not entirely true since soobin was required to be around you at pretty much all times.

"stay in the car," you ordered. "not happening. im required to assist you at all times," he states matter of factly. you lean your head on the steering wheel. "god you are so up my ass it's annoying."

"listen if i say do something you do it. you're an android so you follow my orders got that?" you narrow your eyes at him as if to challenge him. he simply looks back at you with that boyish curious look and says nothing.

you hate how he looks like a puppy who knows you're hiding a treat behind your back.

you sigh, getting out of the already parked car. you slam the door roughly in what you hope to be soobin's face to make a point but you hear a door close right after yours. you turn around to see soobin standing outside of the passenger's side where he was seated.

"oh fuck off!" you shout exasperatedly.

you stomp over to the burger cart and shove past someone who's already there. "hey watch it!" they shout. "shut up im a cop," you bite back. you don't even bother turning around to the person because you could care less but their voice comes back. "y/n?"

you perk up at your name and turn around, "oh shit frankie!" your smile grows and you hold your hand out for a handshake but frankie goes in for an uncomfortable hug that you weren't expecting. you laugh nervously as he hugs you for longer than intended. he reeks of red dust, a newly manufactured drug in town. the only recognize it is because, well, you've tried it.

"hahah ooook franks," you try to wriggle from his tight hold on you but he doesn't budge. "i slipped a little something for you sweet cheeks," he murmurs into your ear. you shiver from the sudden close proximity but nod nonetheless.

"is there a problem here?" soobin states. he easily towers over frankie since taking drugs for a long time has ruined frankie's growth spurt. he's by no means short however soobin is winning in height by a long shot.

frankie chuckles lowly, "we're fine robocop." he rolls his eyes at soobin and turns back to you, "so anyw-"

"y/n we should be on our way," soobin narrows his eyes at you and you don't take it as a question. you're not scared of soobin however he's pretty much unmatched when it comes down to it.

"right," you say slowly. you glance between frankie and soobin and they both seem to be in a bit of a staring contest. "come on puppy," you nudge him.

"have a nice day," soobin says firmly. "whatever, damn androids," you hear frankie mumble. you sigh as you both reach a stray table near the truck. you open the wrapper, uninterested in everything else at the moment until soobin clears his throat.

"drugs?"

"what about them?" you mumble through a mouthful of burger. "you just got drugs from that guy," soobin leans on the table staring at you directly in the eye. you sigh dramatically, throwing your hamburger back into the wrapper. "leave me alone ok? if you're gonna lecture me i can assure you, i don't want it."

you pick your burger up again hoping that soobin will just shut the fuck up for the rest of the day. he really has a way of putting you in a sour mood. you wonder for a moment how long you'll have to be working with him. if you can just figure out the cause of deviancy then this little arrangement will be over before you know it.

from that point on, soobin simply watches you eat. it's a bit uncomfortable, to say the least, but at least he's silent. you want to question him as to why he's watching you so intently but you also don't feel like chatting with him. "did you ever expect to be living among androids y/n?" soobin speaks up after a while. you smirk at his question, "you're living among us, ok? and no, i never saw it coming." you feel bitter about his question.

of course, you never expected it. you never thought you'd see the day where an android is running the hotdog stand down the street. you never expected a robot to be doing your job. "you fucking androids are a curse," you mumble. soobin says nothing at that.

the ringing of your phone cuts through your little moment. you sigh, rummaging through your pocket for it. groaning, you reluctantly answer the call. "what's up boss."

after a couple minutes of briefing, you hang up. soobin looks at you expectantly while you throw out your trash. "we got another one, pretty close to where we are. no one else is on duty near us so we'll be on our own for this one."

you brush past him, walking back to the car, "think you can handle it puppy?" you don't expect him to answer but you're surprised when he retorts with his own witty remark.

"i'm practically designed too."

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head, "alright alright let's go."

once you arrive at the apartment complex where the deviant is supposedly located, you stop soobin right at the door. you stare up at him with a stern look in your eye, "remember what i said, no getting in my way and no telling me what to do. remember that i'm also your superior."

a part of you feels like you don't necessarily have to tell him these things since he probably stored that information from the first case. however, you want to feel power over him. you don't care if soobin is an android, you'd be damned if he felt like he was superior to you just because you were a human and he was a robot.

"i will do what is needed for me to complete my mission," he states. you roll your eyes at the answer he opts for but nonetheless continue onward. "we gotta be careful here, we don't actually know if the deviant is armed."

"you got sent any info on the guy?" you ask. soobin sighs, "the only thing we know about him is that he's a deviant. the people living on the floor below claimed they were hearing strange noises but supposedly no one has lived here for years."

you chuckle to yourself, "yeah it sure looks like it." you look around, taking in the beat-up state of the hallway. it's dimly lit and the walls are tattered and torn. there are boarded-up doors and the floor almost looked like it would give in with anymore added weight. yeah, there definitely hadn't been anyone inhabiting this floor in a while.

you lean on the door frame as you watch soobin knock on the door as a normal would but no one answers. "is anyone in there?" he shouts. you both wait for a moment but again no one answers. you sigh, shaking your head. "move."

soobin steps out of your way hastily and moves to stand behind you. you swiftly take your gun from it's holster on your hip and shoot the door handle. the handle flies off and just like that the door creeks open. you'll admit there might've been a more suave way of doing it that didn't involve much noise, however you wanted to get this over with.

you motion for soobin to trail after you into the apartment. you both slowly inch into the flat and you peek your head in to check if anyone is inside. when you confirm there's no one in the apartment you both walk in cautiously. the place is completely torn apart. there are bird feathers all over the place and the walls have odd writings on them. you sigh walking up to one of the walls, "we are alive."

soobin shakes his head but says nothing. "let's check the other rooms in this place," you propose. you both split up to look for clues about the deviant which gives you time to think.

soobin goes to snoop around in the closet while you head to the bathroom of the apartment. the sink is riddled with bird feathers and bird shit. you hold your breath as you look around the small room. the place definitely hasn't been kept up by anyone in a long time. "ra9?" you mumble. you lean closer to the wall to inspect the odd writing. it's not just written once or twice, it's scattered all over the wall. "what the fuck does that even mean."

before you can even begin to infer, soobin walks into the bathroom. "i think i found something." you sigh looking up at him, "what is it."

he leads you back into the living room and points to a birdcage on the floor. "this must be what caused that noise that the people on the other floor sent complaints about." he paces around the room for a moment. "i should be able to reconstruct what may have happened, that way we can know where the deviant went."

you watch silently as he walks back to the birdcage. he stays still for a moment then proceeds to look around the room in all directions. "see anything?" you ask.

he doesn't answer, much like last time he simply stands up and walks towards an opening in the roof. soobin slowly reaches his hand up to it but someone jumps out at him.

soobin is effectively knocked to the ground and you stand there shocked. you were really not expecting anyone to be up there. you shout in alarm and the deviant is alerted instantly. before you can reach your gun, the deviant haphazardly pulls a gun of its own from is pocket.

it's clearly not skilled in holding a gun since androids aren't allowed to bear arms. you can tell it's not sure where to shoot and it's scared. you can feel the cold metal of your gun graze your fingers but you stay still as you hear a gunshot pierce the air.

your eyes widen as they follow the deviant run out of the apartment. "SOOBIN GO," you shout. you're not sure why you're telling him to chase after it when you can do it yourself but you feel like you can't move. you suddenly feel yourself collapse on the ground, letting out a strangled yell. "FUCK!"

"Y/N?" you hear soobin shout. for some reason everything is hazy and all you're hearing is white noise. you think you yell at soobin to chase after the deviant again but even in your hazy state, you can't quite tell. after a couple more seconds of struggling to comprehend what's going on, you finally pass out.

you shift around, looking for a comfortable position on the couch. you're not sure why you're on a couch but you're not complaining. it feels like forever since you've felt like you've had a chance to rest for a moment. you're starting to really get sick and tired of androids. before all of this, all you did was either sit on your ass all day or go around helping the elderly or bust your local neighborhood scum. you seriously couldn't believe how much your life could change in just the span of a couple of days.

speaking of change, soobin was going to have to go. he's a pretty capable partner however, you both clashed too much. granted you haven't given him much of a chance. you just hated the concept of having a partner, much less an android partner.

you suddenly feel something cold press onto your leg. you hiss out in pain but when you try to move your leg the pain gets worse. "you shouldn't move," you hear a voice say. you furrow your brows because you're sure you live alone.

you peel your eyes open and see what looks to be soobin standing over you. "soobin?" after the name registers in your head your eyes widen and you try to sit up but the pain in your leg keeps you in place, "what the fuck are you doing in my house?"

soobin calmly takes a seat on the seat opposite from you. you study his body language and face. if you didn't know any better you say he seems a bit distressed. you want to laugh at yourself for thinking that because there's no way an android can know what distress feels like. he seriously looks like he's racking his brain to figure out what to say first.

"you got shot," he opts for. your mouth falls open, looking down at your leg. almost as if on cue, you start to feel immense pain shoot through your body. "fuck fuck fuck!" you yell. soobin rushes up to press the ice pack down on the bandaged wound.

"don't fucking touch me!" you yell at him. he flinches back but you don't notice because you're too busy trying to dissolve the pain. you breathe in and out. you wouldn't say you've never gotten shot before but no bullet has ever successfully hit you. you've only been grazed here and there but it was rare since no one is allowed to really carry guns besides cops.

after doing your breathing exercise for a couple of minutes, you finally bite back the pain. "what happened to the android?" you grit out. you hope getting shot was worth it, you hope the bastard that shot you in rusting in his cell. soobin sighs, "we lost it. it's completely my fault. i should've chased after it."

"you didn't chase after it?" you're not sure if you sound surprised or angry but soobin looks up at you like a scolded puppy. the alarms in your brain are blaring right now. why did soobin ignore the mission? he was supposedly always supposed to complete his mission no matter what. surely he didn't ignore the mission simply because you collapsed from a leg shot. you think about the subtle warning yeonjun gave you back when you had your first deviant case.

"seems like some kind of uprising? the machines seem to be rebelling."

soobin isn't- he's not a deviant is he? you can't really remember if he's been defective this whole time or if he's the best actor you ever met. you look up at him suspiciously and he shifts his gaze subtly when you make eye contact.

"it's been 4 days since your injury. yeonjun came by a couple of times to check up on you," you see his fists tighten at that. something may have happened between them while you were out. you know yeonjun can be a bit overprotective over you at times, even when he knew the job was dangerous.

"the chief says its best to lay low for a couple of days until you get better so that's what we're doing," he continues. you stay quiet. you're not exactly sure what to say. you don't know if calling him out will anger him or something.

you both stay quiet for so long that you start to think soobin may have gone into hibernation mode or something but when you look up at him he's staring directly at you. you sigh, "what is it this time puppy."

he stares at you for a little while longer before answering, "why don't you like androids?" you should've known this question would come up but damn why'd he have to ask it right now. why do you hate androids? one just shot at you a couple of days ago and left you unable to work.

"it's' because you're all nuisances," you mumble. he looks down at his hands and you have to remind yourself that if you're right, he somehow has feelings now.

you groan, "you all are supposed to be perfect! better versions of us humans! i guess you just fail when we put too much trust in you." you sigh, you don't expect soobin to understand since you're being too vague.

he sits, waiting patiently for you to continue. "someone close to me passed away a long time ago. i don't really expect you to understand what grief is," you chuckle bitterly. you look around the room in silence. you don't really want to cry right now so you take a deep breath.

"the doctor was out, probably fucking around i don't know. they had an android do the job. they didn't make it because the android failed to do it's task." you shake your head. "yeonjun was there for me at the time, which im grateful for. i probably would've singlehandedly destroyed all androids myself if he wasn't there."

soobin looks at you with that same curious boyish look and it makes you want to hit him. he's so annoying even when he's not doing anything. "y/n im sorry," he says.

"yeah you should be. the deviant got away because of you," you mumble. you both sit in silence again until you decide to speak up again. something in you wants to thank him for not leaving you behind but you also don't want to break character.

this is too new to you. you've never really had a partner, only ever going out into the field with yeonjun. even then, whenever either of you got hurt it was never as awkward as this. you sigh, "at least you didn't leave me behind." is the best you can come up with.

soobin looks up at you again with a hopeful look in his eyes and it makes you hate how alive he looks. if he was really a deviant you'd have to tread lightly with him. you're not sure if he's plotting against you or what his goal is but you've gotta start being more careful around him.

"y/n i look forward to working with you more," he says lightly.

for now though, for now, this will have to do.

[regrettablewritings]

I'm feeling a Nevada Ramirez mood (love that damn asshole) but if you aren't feeling writing for him then I give this up to authors choice. But from the current ships numbers perhaps: 3 (because I wanna get fucked up), 9 (because I have to), 10 (because I would like to know your thoughts) and 11 (because I am wildly curious)

("I'm feeling a Nevada Ramirez mood" Translation: "I want a daddy to spit in my fuckgng mouth" Sorry, I don't make the rules about language translation.🤷🏽‍♀️)

3. Which one outlives the other, and how they cope:

You'd always kind of sort of lived in a fairytale. In hindsight, though, you probably had to: It's what probably made being with his stupid ass a bit easier. Kind of like you were living in one of those stories where a monster that terrorized some bucolic tiny town could be brought down to size by a soul of pure heart. Maybe even regain his human form.

If only your story had had a happy ending.

In a way, Nevada felt he was to blame for that; clearly, sticking with you had really only encouraged that type of behavior, or so he thought.

And now look where that ended you: All that gross-ass makeup to make you look like your last moments hadn't been agonizing (the coroner insisted it had been quick, but Nevada called bullshit); those stiff clothes that you never would've worn unless you had to (Nevada never would've put you in them if he had more of a choice); eyes closed, never to see the telltale signs of the one you left behind coming undone (actually, in a sick way, Nevada didn't necessarily mind this; it spared him the humiliation).

There wasn't even necessarily any sign that you had been targeted; the general theory really was that you'd been taken out by a stray bullet. But in some part of him, Nevada couldn't believe that. He didn't want to. It just made so much perfect sense in his mind: You were just minding your own damn business, walking home after a shift ended a little later than expected. You were the very picture of innocent and unsuspecting, all vulnerable and without him. In short: That was the perfect time for some rival gang or some shit to take a shot at you.

And the thought made Nevada's blood boil to the point that it evaporated into the air, further polluting these fucking New York skies with his inner toxicity being exposed. He'd make whoever did this to you choke. But not before roughing them up a lil bit. Maybe cut off some fingers. Some toes . . . Maybe a pound of flesh as payment if there was any time left, who knows.

But first, his men had to find them.

To say that Nevada does not take your passing well would be an understatement. He's somehow more violent. Somehow a lot less tolerant of bullshit (and he already wasn't before). If anyone so much as blinks wrong, they run the risk of having a nearly feral fuck jump at them and attempt to rip their face off.

His men, who already feared and respected him, dare not occupy the same room as him any longer than they have to. They miss you as a person, of course, but they never knew just how much of a hold you had on their boss until that hand was gone.

Sure, he goes through the usual motions seen in others, like sitting in his chair, downing copious amounts of whatever was left in his liquor cabinet. And, of course, there's the stages of grieving: He's eternally stuck oscillating between guilt and anger.

He was supposed to be the one that got killed out here, him! Not you: Sweet, kind, patient, hard-headed, stupid-assed you! He got that, why couldn't God get with the program on that!? He was the dealer, the gang leader putting himself into all kinds of problems with others; you were just some innocent bystander who happened to get caught in his web, decide they liked it there, and inexplicably stuck around.

And now you're dead. He was being selfish, you were being stupid, and now you were dead.

He stares blankly at nothing before humming with a sip of whatever the hell is in his glass now, he doesn't fucking remember. Can't taste it anyway; his sense of taste disappeared, floated away with your spirit the moment he learned of your passing.

The pure-hearted soul that kept the village safe was gone; all that remained was the carnivorous beast, ready to rampage and raze the town to the ground.

9. Which one swears more?:

Just in time for the 20210 Summer Olympics, we have a new category to observe: Fucking Goddamn Cussing Up a Shitstorm! Representing Washington Heights, we have a cussing prodigy, Nevada Ramirez! Also representing Washington Heights by way of duel citizenship between the apartments, we have . . . You!

Okay but in all seriousness, Nevada is definitely the gold medal-winner here. Science indicates that cussing helps to relieve stress and for as collected as Nevada likes to appear in front of others, 5'9" is not a lot of space for stress to go. He's constantly bottling up that shit! What's worse, though, is that the fucker makes it sound elegant.

How does he make "fuck" sound so gentle when it leaves his lips with a cold-eyed glower!? Who the hell knows!

Erstwhile, you're a pretty good runner-up. Even if you were a big cusser before getting with Nevada, you could never catch up with him -- he's just had way too many experiences where he felt the need to pepper the ambience with some cursing. And if you weren't as into it before . . . I'm sorry, boo, but you'll be picking up that nasty habit of his like you were picking up the torch for the Cussing Olympics. Bon chance!

10. What TV shows they watch together, and which ones they hide from the other:

Noah . . . How did you know I was planning to do a preference on what characters watch with their S/Os? Not that I can confirm or deny that Nevada was in that one but --

Nevada didn't really watch TV a whole lot before you two got together. It was a mix of him not having a lot of time and him not having a lot of care to keep up with anything. Everything is so goddamn serialized, what's even the point?

Really, the only reason he bought subscriptions to streaming services was to keep you entertained for when he had to be out the house or some junk. But there were a few too many times where he'd come home late and find you curled up on the couch.

". . . The hell're you still doing up --"

"Ssh!"

". . . Did you just --"

"Yes, now sshhh! I'm about to see who this chick picks to go to bed with."

Of course, 'Vada is pissed; people don't shush him, he shushes them! What the fuck could be so interesting that you'd do that!? He takes his glare from you to the screen . . . and about thirty minutes in, he gets it. He'd never say it out loud, but deep down, he knows why you like Love Island. It's stupid, it's trashy, he hates these dumbass twenty-somethings making drama out of nothing, and for fuck's sake will somebody talk to the girl with the dark skin and short hair she's the hottest one there --

Of course, he tries hard not to show his interest, taking seats next to you when you're watching "because he's tired", adding his own commentary "because these pendejos need to know better", etc. And, of course, it doesn't fool you in the slightest. As amused as you are, though, you don't tease him about it; you're afraid that if you do, your stubborn boyfriend would put up a fight in the form of leaving you to watch your silly little show by yourself. And you really don't mind sharing the show with him . . . No, solitary watching is reserved for your cartoons.

Nevada may let things with you slip to a point but the moment he learns you like to watch anything animated, he's on your ass with the ruthless taunting. Which is like the pot calling the kettle black because 'Vada's secret pleasure is even worse: daytime soap operas. Admittedly, there's some sentimentality connected to them (he remembers being at his Abuela's house and seeing her get really into some telenovelas), but the fact of the matter is really more that he's invested in the drama and bullshit going on between all this lunatics who we're supposed to buy as being doctors or CEOs or whatever over-glamorized positions they're supposed to have.

He doesn't actually get to watch them often but . . . hey, that's what he pays certain grunts to do for him.

Okay I had way too much fun writing these so lemme just cut myself off now. Thanks for asking!!!

[creacherkeeper]

Hi Luka! I wanted to ask what your experience as a social worker has been? I'm thinking of applying for a MSW but also feel like I'm in the middle of an existential crisis?? I am a confused mess but want to learn more about this field. If you have any advice I would love to hear! Thank you so much in advance!!

hello nonny!

so first off, exciting times??? existential crises are rarely fun when theyre happening but sometimes they can spur us into action and thats not anything to sniff at. i hope you are able to weather this one as best you can and get something from it in the end, no matter what that decision ends up being

secondly, i definitely came into social work a little sideways so my experience may not be exactly the same as many others. i work as a disability coach, who does end up handling many many things besides direct disability topics (from career coaching to education support to many pretty heavy therapy-leaning sessions) but i got the position im in now due to my extensive knowledge of neurodivergence, trauma-informed care, and my 7 years of autism advocacy experience for many state-level organizations. there was a very intensive 5 step interview process for my position, where my now-boss tested my knowledge, ability to think on my feet, gave me many scenarios and had me give game plans for treatment, and we discussed disability philosophies and schools of thought. then during my training period he made sure we were on the same page with the goals of the program and we had many more discussions on disability until he thought i was ready to start taking clients. we now meet every other week to discuss my clients and session notes and i can ask him any time for resources or advice, and i also create resources for my clients and for the organization to use

all that said ... i really love my job and feel that im very well suited for it. and i think that someone who was not well suited for it would be very quickly miserable, frustrated, and burnt out. doing social work is very much scratching an itch for me, and thats why it works. i love discussing disability, i love educating people, i love helping people, i love giving advice, im very patient, i have much practical knowledge from the batshit insane life that ive led thats given me a lot of experience with a lot of things, and on top of that im very social so getting to talk to multiple people every day actually makes me more happy and energetic. obviously i need breaks every once in a while, and there are for sure days where i feel sick or run down and dont enjoy it as much. but at the end of the day helping clients makes me feel better and i dont think thats bad-selfish to say because if it didnt i wouldnt last in this field long and its important im bringing my best self to my clients. there are definitely social workers out there who are not bringing their best selves and that can be detrimental to the people theyre supposed to be serving

i think both the scariest thing about social work but also the most rewarding and fulfilling is that you do genuinely have a hand in peoples lives. people do look to you to help and guide them, and thats a very big responsibility, but you can also make genuine change that way. small changes, mostly, on an individual level, but those are the changes i most like to make. sometimes i have a hard talk with a client and we really dig into whats going on with them and where some of their challenges are coming from, and then they come back the next week like "so i had a heart to heart with X, and we made X changes, and i think things are going to be better now" and youre just like. yeah. this is why im here and doing this. i like working with people and i like helping and i like solving problems, and sometimes you get to help people by solving problems and it just makes everything feel right. and i just know that if i wasnt doing this professionally id still be peddling my wares to all the little mutuals on the internet so like. might as well do it professionally too because with my personality im just not going to stop

social work jobs can definitely be very different, and there are a lot of specialties and places you can end up. even if you decide social work is right for you, you have to find a niche within that that works for you too. working in disability is my niche, but yours might be very different. if you want to talk to someone who went the MSW route and just landed her first post-licensure social work job, i definitely recommend talking to @agentcalliope who is amazing and wonderful and very friendly. she can definitely tell you more about the schooling side of things (not that i didnt hear all of it while it was happening ;) ) which might be some helpful info before you decide on a path

i hope that was helpful nonny! if you had any more specific questions feel free to stop back by. my dms are open for you as well <3

[laketaj24]

The Rules IV: Triggered

Author’s Note: Thank you all soo much for your input!!! It helped me out more than you know! This was fun as hell to write and I hope you’re down for a ride! It’s about to go down. There are two songs that really hit the nail on the head for this part, they are linked below! Happy Reading my people!

Pairing: CEO!Henry Cavill X Reader

Warning: Angst. SMUT. DRAMA.

Want to catch up! Click HERE

Song Inspirations: Jhene Aiko: Triggered (First Part) Jhene Aiko: P*SSY Fairy

If your heart slowed anymore, you’d collapse. But it wasn’t just the lethargic beat of your heart that slowed down. The kiss. The fucking kiss was being replayed in your head over and over, the way she cupped him, the way his lips touched hers and he deepened it. You feel the bile rise at the helm of your throat and you step back.

“Excuse me.” You whispered to a bewildered Alex, “I need to leave.”

He noticed. You could tell by the way he looked back to Henry and then you. His tall frame went from relaxed to apathetic. “Is it him?” He gave a wave in Henry’s direction and then stepped closer to you. “Y/N?”

“I can’t talk about this right now.” You attempted to push your way through the crowd and caught an opening into the gala hall. Alex was on your feet, his long strides made it easy for him to catch you. “Hey, I can’t talk about it right now.”

Your mind raced, he took a month away from you, was it because the entire time he had her? Were you some fucking mistress, side-chick, side bitch… Homewrecker? Inwardly you taunted yourself with the unceasing line of insults to yourself. Fuck! Fuck.

“Look.” Alex cleared his throat and stepped closer to you. His presence kept you from bolting into the nearest room and destroying everything in it. You were grateful for that, maybe. “He is not worth you not enjoying this night. Do you know how beautiful you are right now? Every eye in the building was with you when we arrived. Make him mad, but don’t let him win. He did nothing to deserve a win apparently.”

The pep talk worked and more and more you were starting to understand why Alex was a friend you didn't want to lose regardless of what happened. The first dance is casual, you fight tears watching the woman touch his hand, laid her hand on his chest and laugh like he was a comedian. He wasn't that damn funny. You stay for an hour, it was required to stay an hour, you have done only what was expected of you and nothing more. Alex took you home, the car ride is silent besides the occasional murmur of a curse word under your breath.

Home is what you craved more than anything, once the door was closed and Alex's driver left you released a scream that scared you, followed by a sob as you felt your heart literally break. What a fucking feeling? Grief for someone who didn't deserve it. You didn't drink to solve your problems, so alcohol was a no. Sleep was the obvious answer.  The dress felt like it burned your skin, you were certain it didn't, but the fact that it came from him made it poison. He was poison, that you willingly chugged down like a vintage wine and now the repercussions had finally made their grand entrance. And fuck them.

Why were you looking them up, they were a known couple, known to everyone but you? You typed in his name and nothing but her appeared Billionaire Henry Cavill and Olivia Tate grace the Emmy's with their presence. Will this playboy finally settle down? Olivia Tate has HC's heart around her finger. You were sick again. You throw the phone on the couch and screenshot the picture of him kissing her. Is this the future Mrs. Cavill?

You changed clothes, slipping the crop top and leggings on. You knew it wasn't the end of the night. And you were right, sleep does not come. He sends you seven messages, each of which you stared at trying to formulate a response, but they didn't merit one, until the last one.

Henry: I've been looking for you for an hour. Where are you?

Henry: You left without a word? Are you mad or something?

Henry: A response would be nice.

Henry: Y/N

Henry: Y/N. I'll find you later.

Henry: Be there in ten.

Y/N: Drive safe. Are you bringing the wife with you?

You hit send of the picture you'd saved.

Henry: Wow.

The wait for him to arrive only infuriates you more, your mother had always said your temper was like a wildfire, once it sparked it would consume everything to the ground. You knew she was right; Henry even knew your temper needed to be managed, but no one fucking managed you. This included Henry. He didn't knock. He never did really, he entered with his perfectly tailored suit and an eye roll. And the lamp crashed behind him. He ducks, but his face is shocked.

"What the fuck was that?" he hissed.

"My fucking two-hundred-dollar lamp." You picked up the shoes and hurled them across the room next and he ducked as if he knew they were coming and charged towards you. You moved from his grasp. "You have been with her for a year!" It roared out of you and then the tears followed. "Why did you even come over here? Did you think I would be okay with it? Do you think I want to be your whore? Come when you say, fuck when you say and then you go home to her. Don't touch me!!"

"You're not going to let me explain, are you?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Explain Henry, tell me what lie did you conjure up, while headed here. She's just a friend. I wasn't with her." you shake your head and Henry folds his arms across his chest. "Is she the reason you wouldn't let me kiss you?"

"Are you finishing acting like-."

"Say it!" You cut him off and step closer to him. You wanted to hit something, but his face was too pretty for that shit, and despite your anger, your mother raised you better than that, "Like what Henry? Get out."

"Y/N."

"I said get the fuck out!"

His jaw clenched and he pushed his hands through his thick mane of brown curls, ending the polished look he had earlier. "I'll call you later."

"Oh, no the fuck you won't." You opened the door to Alex standing there with his eyes on Henry. Why was he back? "He was just leaving." You explained to Alex. "Bye."

Alex stepped aside and held up the brown bag, you could smell the Chinese and noticed the wine bottle. "We didn't get to eat." He explained. The smug grin on his face sealed the night, he was a good guy.

You smiled and watched Henry stare at him before looking back at you. He shook his head, "Goodnight."

"Fuck you." You whispered.

In the past hearing, people say they were numb sounded foolish, of course, they felt. A human cannot simply shut it all off, but you were wrong. So wrong, it was easier to go numb than to feel. It started with work, your time invested in the company allotted you vacation three fucking weeks, paid and free.

The first week you spent with Alex, not fucking his brains out like a part of you wanted to but being a friend. He allowed you to talk, you told him everything and he listened with no judgment and that made it easier. Tia was around too, she spent the night with you when she could, in between hair appointments and makeup slots. Her career was changing fast, you were happy for her even if you barely showed it at times.

The second week you shut them both out. You told them you were out of town, but you were in your apartment with food and tear-soaked pillows. His phone calls had stopped, but you feared it was only because you changed the number. Work could contact you via email if they needed to, but no one even called you during the first two weeks. The marketing strategy you left would do well, you knew it. And besides your certainty in your program, you didn’t care what Cavill Industries did at the moment.

The third week, everything went numb, there were no more tears to cry. Every inkling of him that existed was gone, including the $6000 dollar dress. You burned it and at that final act, the night was gone from your mind. He’d broken the rules. You’d both set them and when he kissed her, he disqualified himself.

The first day back to work your anxiety had you in its grip. Every phone call and opening of your door you dreaded. But he didn’t come. He wasn’t even in the building, according to your boss and that eased everything. You could work with him not being anywhere near you, and that made you apply to the other firms that had once been interested in you. You got two calls immediately. Matheus Corporate wanted to hire you without an interview and after the offer they sent, you were taking it. You typed out your resignation letter and turned it into HR. It was the right choice.

It was a month before you saw him again, and the Cavill you saw briefly in the lobby looked nothing like the one you had grown accustomed to. His hair was wild, and he had a beard, an actual beard. His slate-blue eyes were tired as were his movements. Just seeing him triggered you, the horrid memories of that night flooded your head and the pain resurfaced. Being numb would not be possible around him. You knew it. You hid in the stairwell like an idiot and avoided him. Nine more days of work here and you would be clear.

“Look, the way I see it, we are friends now.” Alex kicked his feet up on your desk and looked to you for affirmation.

You gave it to him nodding your head and chugging down your third bottle of water. “Yes, we’re friends. So, when I call you up at midnight and you’re with your little girlfriend cuddling and things you still have to make an appearance.”

“Girlfriend?” He scoffed.

“You heard me.” You pointed at him.

“I’m hoping one day the little girlfriend, I am cuddling will be you.” He smiled. “There is no rush and no expectation for it. But I didn’t want you to leave this place, oblivious to the fact that I really like you.”

Your heart warmed and you smiled. “Nine days to go and your boldness is out the bag.”

He shrugged. “Did I get brownie points?”

“A whole cake.” You said. You were back to work an hour later, singing under your breath when the door opened.

“I told him to wait outside.” Your assistant said, trying to beat Henry in the office. She turned to you. “Ms. YLN, Mr. Cavill is here to see you.” But he was already in front of your desk.

“Get out.” He said to her.

“Whatever you have to say to me, she can hear.” For some reason, you knew if the door closed you would succumb to him, “Speak.”

“You are not leaving.” His voice was not composed, just wavering and near weak. “Y/N.”

“Gianna, you can go.” You exhaled. What the hell had happened to him? She left the room and the space that once seemed huge started to shrink. Henry walked towards you and you held your hand up when he reached your desk. “What?”

“You changed your number.”

“What did you expect?”

“For you to give me a chance to explain,” His eyes plead with yours for the opportunity. “Can I have that please?”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, I was never yours, right?”

“You’re still mine.” The slight possessiveness came back to his voice.  

It made you weak for a moment, your hitched breath took over the silence. “Hurry up, Henry.”

“She is my girlfriend.” He said.

The words punch at a wound you were certain was nearly healed. You hoped he was going to say that he left her, the pathetically infatuated part of you wanted him to say, she dumped him. But he just reaffirmed what you already knew. Olivia Tate was the official girlfriend of Henry Cavill. “Thanks?” You swallowed. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t want her to be, I want you.”

“You are making no sense and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to throw things at you here. I just wanted to leave all this in the past. Go be with her.”

“Y/N.” He said your name as if he was fighting for breath. “There are some things you do not understand about me. Things I would rather not talk about, but I don’t want her.”

“Then leave her! Damn it.” You bit out. “You are a grown man. You can make decisions on your own. If you didn’t want her then end it. End it now.”

“I can’t talk here.”

“Where else are you gonna talk?” You laughed. “My place? Hell no.”

“Mine.” He shook his head. “I’ll send a car for you after work. Don’t make them work Y/N. Just come.” He looked at you. “Please.”

“Fine.”

 You didn’t fight his orders on meeting him, curiosity reared its ugly head and you were gone. His home was at the edge of town, the driveway curved up a hill and lead to the glass estate. It was incredible. Had you been here on better circumstances, you would have enjoyed the view. You stepped out and the door opened. Henry had shed the suit for a black shirt and black sweats that hung at his waist somehow accenting his frame. Fuck. Were you even going to be strong enough to say no to this god? One last fuck? Just to say goodbye fuck, it wouldn’t be frowned upon.

You argued with yourself and walked into the home, the décor was much like his office dark brown woods with a modern sense. You stood in the foyer and looked at him. The closer to the door you were, the more likely you were to say no to him without hesitation.

“I can’t shut you out of my mind.” He confessed. He had shaved, but his hair was still tucked behind his ears, longer than normal.

“Just tell me.”

“I met Olivia in college.” He sighed. “We used to date off and on, but it was never more than sex. Never.”

“That’s all it is with us.” You interrupted. “Hence the reason I don’t need this talk.”

“Then why’d you come?” Henry stared. “I have been infatuated with you for months and when I finally got the opportunity to be with you, I jumped at it.”

“Don’t feed me bullshit.” You held your hand up.

“Who do you think hired you?”

“Why can’t you just leave her?” You asked.

“She knows things about me that can ruin me.” he stopped talking. “Liv is talented at getting the things she wants. If I leave her, she’ll spill it.”

“Oh, get the fuck out of here!” You laugh. “You expect me to believe this Lifetime movie shit? You got a girlfriend and you want me too. Admit it.”

“I don’t want her.” He shook his head. “I want you.”

“You can say it until you’re blue in the face. If you don’t show me, how in the fuck am I supposed to believe that this… isn’t just a way for you to get what you want.”

Henry sunk to his knees. “I’ll beg you.”

“Dogs beg.” You spat.

“Anything.” He rasped.

“Do you know how bad I hurt? I didn’t work for weeks. I didn’t care for weeks. We’ve been together a month. Do you think my behavior was normal? Do you think yours is normal? No. We are bad for one another and I just…”

How did he get up so fast? You moved back and he was on you, his steps heavy and determined. He caged you against the wall and then you realized, his face was wet with tears.

“You have to believe me.” He whispered and the fear clawed through him. “Please.”

There was an urge pushing you to leave this place, nothing good can come from him. But his face was pained, you’d never seen this part of him. You cupped his face affectionately and your lips graze his cheek. It feels as if he shutters and then you just do it. You hesitantly kiss him. Your lips touch his and the energy that passes through you ignites a groan.

“Please.” The plea is accompanied by him responding to the kiss, tenderly. He leaned into you, his body blanketing to you and taking whatever breath you thought you had left. But you were sure that he took your breath away without a kiss. His brow furrowed as he deepened it pushing your head against the door. He wrapped his arms around you, swaddling you in his muscles while somehow it wasn’t the muscles that you felt. For the first time, he was being himself with you. He allowed you to feel what you didn’t even know was there.

He pulled back from you and he moved as if he was dizzy. The breath he had stolen from you had made it's way back to you and you inhaled. There was more than a desire that flickered between the two of you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

His eyes flashed with a little hope. “Same.” Henry didn’t wait for permission he just scooped you up from the floor and kissed you again, this time it hurt. The hurt is so fucking good.

“I want,” the words were caught in your throat. Was this right or were you spiraling? “I want you, here. Right here.” He lowered you both down on the steps so that you were straddling him, you didn’t care for his comfort. You wanted him to feel you. “You remember the rules?” You whispered. Your tongue licks his lips and then dives in and he’s taken back, gripping your ass that is winding on his dick. You can feel him through the sweats. “Hmm…”

“I could never forget.”

“Don’t cum unless I say.” You smiled before kissing him again. You bucked your hips on and his eyes widened the lust pushing through. “You hear me, sir?” Your voice was low and filled with lust. “I want to fuck you right here.” He grew harder, flinching against you. “I want you to moan my name when you cum…”

Henry’s hands were in your hair, pulling you back so he could see your eyes. “I’ll do whatever the fuck you want me to, just fuck me.” He begged.

“Did you miss me?”

“Always.” He groaned lowering his head to your breast. He sprung the from the blouse and ripped it in two. “Always.”

You wanted to believe him, but the lingering hurt from the past month. “If you lie to me again,” You unsheathed him from his sweats and stroked your hand down the length of his cock. You swiped the precum that oozed from the tip down and pumped again. “Missing me is all you’ll know how to do, sir.”

“Fuck,” He jumped in your hand and sucked air in through his teeth.

“Understand?”

“I-,” He moaned when you increased your speed. “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” You were so turned on by the way you were making him feel. You now understood why he wanted to be in control of everything in the bed. It was sexy as fuck to watch what you could do to someone. You could watch them unravel, put them back together and do it again.

Henry pushed the pen skirt up and easily ripped the panties. He tossed them behind you and his fingers were in you. Prodding and working, you fucking missed him, even though you shouldn’t have. “Y/N.” He moaned. “I’m almost there.” He panted.

You stopped stroking him and began to ride his fingers, lifting yourself from them and then back on until the next time Henry pushed his cock in. He was fighting every urge he had to allow you some control in this thing. He threw his head back when he was fully inside of you and stilled.

But you wanted to fuck him. You wanted to ride him slow and draw out every fucking moment you could with him. So, if you regretted being here in the morning, the walk of shame wouldn’t have too much shame. Your walls sealed around him and he gripped your hips trying to stop you from fucking him, but you continued. Your rhythm was wild, you used his shoulders like an anchor and smiled down at him. His face was red and misted with sweat. His curls were soaked, and he was mesmerized. Your tits bounced in front of him and your eyes were rolling. “Y/N.” He warned and you felt his cock grow harder and then he growled, shuddering in your breast as if he had waited forever to cum inside of you.

“Seems you broke a rule.” You laughed and continued to fuck him. He made sounds that only made you wetter for him and the man was part machine. He had to be as his cock grew back rigid and he was still shuttering from coming the time before.

Henry licked his fingers and slapped them onto your clit before he pulled you towards him. His fingers knew how to work your pussy. Moving in circles and then another slap before he started back again, and you were about to cum. You didn’t want to. You shook your head and Henry looked up at you, “I won’t last another time. I ca-,” Your pussy shook around his and your thighs locked down as the pleasure surged through your body. “Shit!” He yelled before slamming into you and spilling his cum again. “Y/N.” He rasped.

The floor wasn’t a bad place to lay for the time being. Henry was wrapped around your naked body and there was no need for cover. He kept you warm enough.

“Was she the reason you didn’t kiss me?”

He exhaled. “She,” he paused. “I never know when she will decide to come back into my life.” He admits. “And up until you, it was easier not kissing, that way when it ended… there were no emotions in it. It was just fucking. I can’t do that with you, okay? A single glance from you could make my heart stop, a kiss would have shattered me.” Henry admitted.

It was quiet for a while. Just deep breaths and kisses all down your body. “Let’s go to bed.” You said finally. “My boss would be mad as hell if I missed tomorrow.”

“I’m throwing you resignation away, and if you’re having problems out of Mike… I’ll fire his ass.” He stood up and reached his hand out to you. “Come on, the bed is the proper place to make sure you’re so tired work isn’t an option.”

  His bed was comfortable, the sheets were so soft you were tempted to ask where he got them. You slept peacefully entangled in the muscled mass that is Henry. But it was not a complaint to make, being without him for so long made you grateful you could listen to him breathe and feel his heart against your back.

“Thank God.” The unfamiliar voice came from the bottom of the bed.

Your eyes narrowed as the bright sun made its way through the windows. The blonde hair was the first take away, it was Olivia. You scrambled from under Henry’s body. “Henry!” If she wanted a fight, you were ready to fight her, you’d just prefer to not be naked while doing it.

Henry groaned and once he caught sight of her he jolted up from the bed. “Olivia. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Don’t be rude. I was just saying thank God.” Olivia leaned over his legs and looked at you. “I hated watching him mope around here. He looked like a puppy, sad because his bitch went away.”

“Bitch? I beg your pardon, Henry if you don’t get this woman.” Henry gave an admonished look to Olivia and gripped your hand. It didn’t comfort you. It just pissed you off. You snatched your hand away from him. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” One more foul word from her and you’d fight naked.

“Excuse my manners, darling. I’m Olivia and I am so glad you are here. It seems we have some rules to introduce.” She pushed up from the bed and left the room. “Chop, chop Henry, dear. Bring your bitch, I have a plane to catch.”

[triviallytrue]

Going to elaborate on my post with @degenerate-perturbation since I feel like I made things kind of vague.

For reference, I am a math major at a university well known mainly for STEM stuff; in particular, it has one of the best CS programs in the country. Its problems are not caused by a lack of resources, is what I’m getting at.

A lot of what I hate is just standard faceless bureaucracy things, though my university does it all claiming it’s for our benefit. I have two particularly juicy examples: freshman fall, we had a mandatory, graded “welcome to [university]” course that was supposed to help us get settled in. It met at the same time as math club, possibly the most important extracurricular for math majors. Attendance was mandatory and a major part of the grade. I asked if I could switch sessions to go to math club, since that seemed like an important part of getting settled in. I could not.

Later on, we had another mandatory, graded, “mental and physical wellbeing” course that was basically just a multi-page essay we had to write. About our mental health and wellbeing. Which definitely wasn’t being negatively impacted by having to make up some bullshit for a graded paper that we never fucking signed up for. Oh no, this was helping us.

There’s also one moment that happened a couple years ago and still makes me livid: one of my friends had one of their parents die and had to take time off school and finish their courses later. My university marked this is a violation of academic standards and took away their financial aid. They managed to get it back after explaining the situation, but I can’t imagine that a system that would take away your financial aid without checking “hey, did something horrible happen to you recently” first is a very good one.

There’s some other bureaucracy stuff but I can’t really get into it without doxxing myself - it was enough of a thing to have news stories about it, suffice to say.

And then there’s COVID stuff. We get all sorts of emails about how We Are Living In Unprecedented Times and there’s all this emphasis on staying mentally and physically healthy during the pandemic, but god forbid we extend the same favorable grading options that we had during the spring when the pandemic started. Perhaps I’m in the minority here, but this shit is still making my grades suffer! I should have taken a fucking gap year, but I didn’t really have anything better to do.

But what really got me was the transition from being a tutor to being a grader. Being a tutor is delightful - I love talking about math, I love teaching math, I love helping people with math. It’s a great experience, and you get the feeling that you’re Really Making A Difference, and in a certain sense you are. I quit tutoring this fall because my university restructured the position of my lovely boss right out of existence (in the middle of a global pandemic!). Might as well add that to the tally.

Being a grader was torture. Not because I didn’t like grading - I’m a sick freak who actually doesn’t mind it that much. It’s because every week, in the very entry-level math class I graded, the same four students (out of 30ish total) would get significantly worse grades than the rest of the section. They did not improve as the term went on, and I suspect at least two of them failed the course.

And I realized, since this was the exact same class that I had tutored for over a year beforehand, that I had never helped a student who was struggling as much as these four were. The tutoring system failed to help them because it required them to ask for help. The set of students who most need help and the set of students who are capable of asking for help is almost entirely disjoint, because needing help is very heavily correlated with being unable to ask for it.

Taking this class was a waste of their time, and whenever I graded their work, I made a mental tally of the key concepts they weren’t getting and thought about how I would fix that if they were one of my tutoring students. I left notes I thought were helpful and did my best to be generous with my grading, but there’s not a whole lot you can do as a grader. Certainly, reaching out to struggling students and offering to personally help them is a bit of a no-no, for obvious reasons, so I just kept giving them shitty grades on their homework.

But I just feel like it wouldn’t have been that hard! They’re paying a whole lot of money to be here, so get a bunch of tutors and have them reach out to the students who are struggling, or something. Make some kind of safety net! Especially for a class which is so fundamental, not just to STEM education, but also to loving math. I took that class my fall freshman year, and if I hadn’t already been planning to go into math, I think it would’ve convinced me to at least consider it. It’s a great class!

The whole thing hammered home for me how much of this school is constantly claiming to care about students and want to help students succeed, but in practice there are so many things they could do to make things better for students that they simply choose not to do. I hate it.

Anyway. @[university] give me and ten of my friends $15 an hour for ten hours a week and we will improve the pass rate of this class to 100%.

[puckngrind]

What’s In A Name: 10 - J. Toews

Chapter 10.

Where we left off: Bekah came to Chicago after the season and told Jon not only that she loved him too but that she took a sabbatical from work.

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 3,485

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Changing.

“Rebekah your brain running on over drive woke me up.” Jon’s groggy voice surprised her.

“What!” Bekah almost yells. It was three in the morning and email from her boss asking her intentions on returning had caused Bekah to run a pro and con list in her head.

“Want to talk about it Baby?” Jon kissed her shoulder feeling the heat from the Arizona sun still radiating off her.

“No go back to bed you have training thing to do tomorrow morning then hiking.” Bekah moves her head back to capture his lips.

“It’s about work isn’t it?” Jon sits up.

“How did you...”. Bekah stammered out.

“Beks, I can count to three. Your sabbatical is three months long. It started mid April and July starts tomorrow. He probably wants to know if his brilliant marketing consultant is coming back or if he has to replace her. Yes?” Jon is now leaning against the head board looking down at Bekah.

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m thinking about. I swear you read my email or mind.” Bekah bites the inside of her cheek and sits up to lay her head on her boyfriend’s tan chest from the summer of jet setting.

“And you are torn? You aren’t going to hurt my feelings by saying yes, Babe.” Jon’s hand glides up and down her spine.

“Yes.” She breathes out.

“So let’s talk about it. Money is off the table. It shouldn’t be a determining factor because well, you haven’t gotten paid all summer and it hasn’t been an issue. So my first question, do you miss your job?” Jon feels Bekah tense under his touch. “Honestly.”

“No, I miss lunch with Rin but not my actual job.” Bekah realizes the last time she saw Brynn was when Jon surprised her in April by doing a joint birthday party. He rented out the entire movie theater and ran old movies from when the two were born. His parents and brother flew down from Winnipeg. The big surprise was that he even found a way to get Bekah’s family, Derek and Brynn to Chicago without her knowing. She couldn’t believe her eyes when they walked in. How he managed to pull it off she was still unsure of.

“Do you miss Columbus?” Jon braced himself this time for her answer knowing the city captured his girlfriend’s heart in a way no other place had.

“Not as much as I thought I would honestly but then again we’ve been moving around so much it is hard to miss a single place. Maybe when the season started...”

“You could go home whenever you wanted Beks. Long roadies, sick of me, whatever... you running my foundation would give you that freedom to make as many trips as you wanted.”

“Okay. I don’t hate that.” Bekah breathes in Jon’s smell and runs her hand down his abdomen.

“Last question, for now... if you went home would you miss me?” Jon bites his lip because saying that as calmly as he did took every ounce of media training he’s ever had. The silence was killing him. In the two and a half months since he picked up Bekah and she declared her love and sabbatical he realized he didn’t want to go back to the way life was without her by his side. He would never ask her to leave her life behind but he desperately wanted to start a life with her in Chicago.

“Yes Jon. I’d miss you.” Bekah whispered and he felt a tear on his chest.

“Beks, why are you crying?” He lifts her face up to see.

“Because I know the answer is I should quit my job. Let go of my lease and fully be with you.” She breathes out.

“Okay... so why the tears?” Jon smiles at her.

“Mixed emotions honestly. Happy tears about committing to this life with you but sad tears about leaving home behind.” Bekah sniffles.

“Sweetheart, I get that completely. When I left home it was hard as hell but I did it to be where I am today. And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t worried you leave me and going home.”

“Tae!” Bekah sits completely up and looks at him. “Seriously!”

“Well we are being honest here, right? I know you love me but it’s hard to leave home.” He feels the sting of a tear in his eyes and blinks them away.

“And you were what 15 when you did and I’m 30. Makes me seem ridiculous!” Bekah runs her thumb over his cheek. “I told him I would let him know by the end of the week. Now let’s try to sleep since your crazy ass wants to hike at lightning pace on your own damn holiday! Don’t you know your nation’s birthday is meant for hanging out on the lakes and day drinking?” Bekah laughs.

“You are dating the wrong Canadian if that’s how you want to spend the 1st Babe.” Jon laughs.

“Oh, I’m definitely dating the right one...” Bekah swings her leg up and over his body and captures his lips.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Jon pulls her in as the conversation comes to a halt.

Hiking with Jon got easier not because he slowed down but he was now aware he needed to take more breaks and take in the views as they climbed. By mid week, Jon was gone for almost the whole day checking in with his training team. He kissed the top of her head as he left and made her promise not to do anything irrational while he was gone. By lunch Bekah decided to FaceTime Brynn.

“Your tan is amazing and I don’t exactly see any lines there Bekah. Plus I don’t recognize this top.” Brynn jokes taking in the off the shoulder top Jon bought her while they were in Manitoba and sun kissed skin from a summer of beaches and lakes and now Sedona.

“He asked me what my plans were.” Bekah sips the iced coffee she finally mastered while her and Jon were in the Bahamas in May.

“Please tell me you told that hot ass man of yours you love him more than you love Columbus.” Brynn takes in Bekah’s face which scrunches up at her comment. “Oh my! Rebekah Pierce! Are you serious?”

“Rin, it’s not that simple.” Bekah replies.

“Let me guess, he told you that you could come home whenever you wanted because of his schedule during the season and you told him you would think about it?” Brynn’s feisty attitude noticeable even via FaceTime.

“Did you talk to Jon?” Bekah furrows her brow.

“No, I just know my best friend and if you think I’m going to let you make this horrible decision to leave the best thing that has ever happened to you for me and home, you friend would be delusional.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard him talking to his realtor about a condo on the Gold Coast the other day too.” Bekah recalls walking in on Jon and his look of being caught.

“Oh because his Lincoln Park mansion isn’t enough to start a life with you. Bekah... I’m gonna type out the resignation letter for you. That way you can jump all in on the Jonathan Toews Foundation and all his gardening stuff... plus, well, jump on Jonathan Toews too.” Brynn laughs as Bekah’s face turns red.

“Oh wow Rin.” Bekah rests her head on her fist and sighs. “You should see him with the kids. We did a school tour before we left Chicago. He’s really got a passion for this.” Bekah remembers their tour in May.

“And I’m still not hearing how Columbus is better? And friend, his passion for you is 1,000 times more than that program. I saw the pictures and I see the way he looks at you. There is absolutely no comparison.” Brynn smiles seeing the way her best friend’s face contorts with her truth bomb. The ladies hear the door.

“He’s back. I’ll talk to you later.” Bekah pulls her hand up to wave.

“Write the damn letter Bekah!” Brynn shouts before hanging up.

“How’s Brynn? Convince you to stay with me yet?” Jon’s sweaty lips dip down to kiss Bekah’s forehead.

“I swear you two talk.” Bekah looks up. “Oh, Honey. You are so so sweaty.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna shower, care to join me?” Jon winks at her and holds out his hand. She laughs but takes it.

“I love this shower.” Bekah states as she steps in. The waterfall shower with side jets felt amazing on her body after long hikes.

“Same but only because it’s easier to do this.” Jon pulls her body up and wraps Bekah’s legs around him. The unglazed rock like tile making it easier to pin her body to the wall without slipping. His lips attached to her neck as she moans out. Bekah’s hands running through his wet hair as she pulls up his body and slides down onto his length. Their lips meeting and his tongue asking permission to explore. Bekah gasping when Jon hits her g spot and doesn’t let up. Each climaxing quickly and in unison. Both panting for air as the waterfall splashes over their joined bodies. Jon slowly lowers Bekah down and grabs the shampoo without saying a word. Bekah rests her head on his chest while he massages the shampoo into a lather. He stands her up and grabs the loofah to wash her body peppering sweet kisses as the soap runs off. She returns the favor and giggles as he kisses her chest while he bends over in order for her to reach the crown of his head.

Jon leaves the shower to retrieve the towels wrapping Bekah up and patting herself dry. “So how can I help your decision Beks?” He questions while pulling a tank and some shorts on.

“What?” The earlier conversation not in Bekah’s head.

“About your job and life really. How can I help?” Jon looks down at her while she puts on her clothes.

“Want to just click send for me?” Bekah nods towards the open laptop. “I’ve written the email effectively quitting my position. I just haven’t actually sent it yet.” She runs her fingers through her hair.

“And what’s stopping you?” Jon swallows hard. Not knowing if he wants the answer.

“I mean, I know you can provide for me. I want to be with you and home and you already said I can have the best of both worlds with your job the way it is but Jon...” Bekah’s emotion catches in her throat.

Jon closes the space between them and holds her face in his hands. “But what Beks? What ever it is let’s talk about it.” He felt so close to having the one thing he’s been dreaming about forever.

“But I’ve been able to take care of myself since I was 18. I’ve not needed anyone to take care of me. If I don’t have a job I would NEED you to take care of me.” She closes her eyes in the realization that that was in fact exactly what she was holding on to and and not the whole leaving home aspect.

“So you need an income? Joint bank account? Control of something?” Jon slides his thumbs over her pink cheeks.

“I don’t know.” She was being honest. “I need you though.” Jon envelops her in his arms.

“I need you too Beks and if a joint account or an income from the foundation is what you need we will set it up as soon as we get back to Chicago tomorrow.” Jon kisses her head.

“Can you click send because I cannot?” Bekah whispered.

“Wanna do it together?” Bekah nodded and Jon lead her the desk. She sat on his lap and clicked opened the draft. “Ready?” His hand covered hers and then she clicks without Jon moving his fingers.

“There I did it. Officially an unemployed Chicagoan.” Bekah laughs and Jon joined her while kissing her shoulder.

The next few weeks Bekah packed up her old apartment with Jon. They shipped her clothes and a few items to Chicago and donated everything else. “What are we going to do with my car?” Bekah asks while the two were sitting at dinner with Brynn and Derek.

“We could keep it here for you if you want?” Brynn pipes up eyeing Derek in some silent couple conversation. “That way you have a vehicle when you are home to see your parents or whatever.”

“That actually sounds great.” Bekah eyes Jon who realized she didn’t need an additional car in Chicago but didn’t want to say anything. He simply nodded and smiled seeing how relaxed his girlfriend seemed since quitting. The conversation flowed over the evening. The girls discussing trips to Chicago and home while Derek and Jon talked shop. The next day Jon and Bekah went to see her parents before heading back to Chicago.

Mr. and Mrs. Pierce had lots of questions about their relationship, if they were moving too quickly, and logistics of Jon’s job. Bekah kind of expected them to since she knew her mom was chomping at the bit in Chicago for more answers. Keeping Jon essentially a secret from her family over the last few years was probably a mistake but she knew her mother wouldn’t approve of her lack of commitment especially to a man in the spotlight like Jon. By the end of dinner she felt Jon answered the questions well and her parents were interested in getting to know him. It was progress and she was thankful.

Bekah experienced her first Blackhawks conversation and enjoyed watching Jon in his element with his fans. Several even recognized her and asked for selfies which threw her for a loop but she obliged. August and September Jon was in training mode split between Winnipeg and Chicago. After the season ended the way it did, Jon was determined 2018-2019 would be the season. Bekah settled into a routine with his foundation and started getting to know some of Jon’s teammates and their significant others. She thought she would be overwhelmed but the way Jon was introducing her to his life made her more comfortable by the week.

Alyssa Saad and Bekah immediately hit it off. Jon was intentional with them being the first official introductions. Alyssa met Bekah in Columbus while Brandon played for the Blue Jackets. Jon and Bekah had the newly married couple over for dinner before training camp. As they sat down in the dining room Bekah’s eyebrows knit together. “What’s that look for Beks?” Jon questions.

“We never eat in here.” Bekah looks around.

“What do you mean?” Jon smirks.

“We have almost always eaten on the roof except for maybe Christmas with your family. Yes. Always on the roof.” Bekah sips her wine and looks at Jon.

“Oh Jonny’s roof set up is nice. I can see why!” Brandon pipes up.

“Yeah, that was on purpose.” Jon looks down at his plate then to Bekah who had a bewildered look on her face.

“Care to explain that, Jonny.” Bekah points her fork at him and circles it around.

“Well, the first time it wasn’t but pretty much every other meal was intentionally up there. To remind you how much you love the city and forgot about the massive ass kitchen that you physically tense up in every time you set foot in it.” Jon’s eyes float towards the kitchen then to their guests who are talking to each other through their looks then Bekah.

“Make me fall in love with the city eh?” Her midwestern accent sounding funny using a word that effortlessly slips off Jon’s tongue.

“Ope... yup.” Jon laughs.

“Hey, she’s not the only midwestern in this room Toews!” Brandon chuckles making everyone laugh. Dinner finished with more laughter and they said their goodbyes to the Saad’s.

“Alyssa told me the girls are planning on wearing their jackets for the home opener. And wants to make sure I don’t dodge out of any pictures.” Bekah wraps her arms around Jon as he finishes cleaning up in the sink.

“Yeah. I heard they were not happy I didn’t introduce you for the Preds series so you could be in the pic then. Makes sense she wants to include you.” Jon flips around and leans on the counter. His hands cup Bekah’s face. “You know you don’t have to do any of team things you don’t want to. None of it will hurt my feelings if you decide to take the less active role.” Jon’s hands wander down her body until his hands are under her ass. Jon hoists her up to sit on the counter behind her then kisses her lips tenderly.

“Thanks. For saying that Tae. I want to do all the things but maybe not all at once. Feels rushed.” Bekah moans as Jon sucks along her collarbone. “But clearly you have been playing a very long game there Mr. Toews. Intentionally eating up on the roof.” Bekah leans back as Jon presses his body between her legs.

“I figured if I alone wasn’t a solid selling point to spend more time here and you clearly feel overwhelmed in here...” Jon leans back to look at Bekah and motions to the kitchen. “Then why not use the selling point for why I bought this place to sell you on Chicago... and me.” Jon pulls Bekah’s body into him causing her to whimper.

“Jon, we make meals in here are we seriously going to have sex on your counter?” Bekah places her hand on his chest.

“I was thinking yes but fine... and our counter, Baby.” Jon pulls Bekah off the counter and steps out of his shorts and briefs while carrying her to the couch. Sitting down she feels his rock hard cock on her clothed core. “Better?” He whispers out while pulling her dress over her head and then pulling his shirt off. “Merde.” He whispers as his fingers make their way to her hips. Bekah slowly rocking her hips along his length.

“What Tae?” She breathes out then props herself up to look at him.

“I should have removed these before I picked you up”’ Jon pulls as the band of her panties.

“Oh! Please hold.” Bekah slinks out from under Jon and stands on the couch with her legs on either side of his frame then wiggles out of her underwear. Jon takes the proximity to her core to his advantage and licks up her folds while she is still standing causing Bekah’s legs to shake. “Tae.” She half cries and half moans out. He looks up with a look of satisfaction.

“What? My favorite dessert was right there I couldn’t help myself. C’mere.” Jon sees the red flashing on his girlfriend’s face as he lowers her onto his length. “Sorry if that startled you.” He whispers in her ear as she starts to rock her hips towards him.

“Felt good... this feels better.” She presses her lips to his and rocks harder causing Jon’s hips to jolt up. They build a rhythm together.

“Come on, My Love.” Jon whispers as he pulls Bekah’s body further into him. She feels her body clinch around Jon’s as he thrusts deep inside of her. Panting she lays her head on his shoulder and his hand comes up to run his fingers through her hair. He moves their bodies so he’s leaning against the back of the couch.

“Can we talk about the home opener and well all the home games?” Bekah whispers after catching her breath.

“If you want or we can go shower and talk in bed.” Jon kisses the top of her head.

“That’s fine I just don’t know if you expect me go to all what 30 some home games.” Bekah stands and reaches out her hands to help Jon up. He stands and pulls her into his now sweaty body.

“41 and no. You don’t have to but you can if you want. Completely up to you.” He dips down and kisses her while scooping her into his arms.

“I can walk Tae.” Bekah kicks her legs.

“Just call this an at home workout... m’kay?” Jon makes his way to the stairs.

“Fine fine. You win. Anything to help the training.” Bekah wraps her arms around him and giggles.

“I mean I have the best girl... so yeah I think I do win. Plus, I’m hoping this season will be the best with you by my side.” Jon kisses Bekah as she feels the heat return to her cheeks. “And I can still make you blush.” Jon kisses her cheek.

“You probably always well, Tae.” Bekah admits.

“I hope so.” His lips brush her rosy cheeks while he carries the love of his life upstairs.

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Behind the Mask

Hi. This is, a lot. Like five pages of work. I’ve spent days working on it and I’ve rewritten it twice, so I hope this is as good as I think it is. I��ve left the ending open because I’m thinking of writing a part two, let me know what you think. 

Master List

~~

“What on this blue earth do you mean you need another suit, Hyunwoo? The party is tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, Lin, I know its last minute.” The large muscular man bows deeply, and you can just feel in his words that he’s truly sorry. 

“I was supposed to be out of the country, my plans only just got cancelled.” The other man apologizes, also bowing. Your boss glares at them, her steely gaze made worse by the black mask covering her face. 

“I can make it.” The moment the words leave your mouth you regret them. All three of them turn their gazes on you, and for a few moments you want to sink in on yourself. 

“I don’t want to impose on you.” You can’t speak for a few seconds, too busy being absolutely stuck on the man in front of you. He’s tall and so muscular he could probably kill you with a hug. “Y/n,” Lin begins, “You really think you could create an entire suit in a day?” You square your shoulders, this was the moment you had been waiting for, a chance to show your skills. 

“I designed all the other suits, every other costume you had me work on is done. I already had a mock up of his suit finished when he cancelled originally. If I can use fabric from the workshop, and if I work all night, I can get it done.” The group exchanges glances, and you can see just from their eyes that Lin and Hyunwoo have very little faith. 

“I think you can do it.” The other man vouches, eyes twinkling and making your heart skip more than a few beats. “I have faith in you, and I’ll help as much as I can.” You choke on your own words for a second but finally manage to nod. 

“Thanks.” 

“Alright, Y/n, if you think you can do it, go ahead.” Lin nods, “Hoseok is going to be your assistant.” 

“Great.” You breathe, unsure if you’re going to be able to function properly with him around. “Follow me.” You lead him back to the workshop, which is just a huge warehouse connected to the back of the tailors shop filled with fabrics, lace and all the bits and baubles needed to make whatever clothing customers wanted. 

“Woah.” His small gasp has you smiling behind your own mask as you head over to your workstation. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty impressive, but we’re asked to clothe most artists these days. Dragon Tailors is the official tailor for JYP, Big Hit and P Nation, but we get clients from all over.” You explain, dropping your sketchbook on the table and motioning for him to take a seat. “Alright so this is what I designed a few months ago.” 

The suit was, arguably, simple. It was just a black lace vest, and a deep red jacket with matching pants. The jacket had the wings of Eros embroidered on the back in gold, and doves on the lapel, while the pants had rose vines going up the legs. It was simple but elegant and sexy, and a good representation of Eros in your opinion. The other boys in his (former) group were also going as varying gods. While the other boys were going as much more major gods, Hoseok had chosen Eros, maybe to only lowkey match the other boys. 

“Wow, that’s a lot. Are you going to be able to make it in time?” You shrug, your shoulder brushing against his. 

“I have the rose patches for the pants, and I have a dove program on my embroidery machine for the lapels, I can hand stitch the wings, if I get the rest of it done quickly.” You explain, glancing at your watch. “I’ve got roughly 40 hours, luckily you guys came in early.” 

“Is there anything I can help with?” You finally look over at him. He’s handsome, even while wearing his mask, with strong brows and deep brown eyes. For a few seconds you’re stuck, drowning in his eyes, until you finally manage to pull yourself out. 

“You need a mask and some shoes. The mask should be red and gold, and the shoes should be black, and Oxfords.” 

“You guys don’t make shoes?” He wonders and you shake your head, walking over to the rack of half finished designs you were working on. 

“We design them, but typically the people we work with either have a pair already, or we order them, usually from a brand the star is partnered with.” You grab the mock up you had already built. “Before you leave to get those, try this on for me. I need to know it fits.” You toss the material at him, pointing to the changing room behind him. 

Of course it fits, but you still make a point of reminding him not to work out between now and the party, or he might burst out of the jacket, which you would pay to see. Before he leaves to get his missing pieces you give him your number, telling him to text you pictures before he buys anything. And with that, you’re alone in the workshop. 

“So, he’s kinda cute.” Lin greets, sliding your sketchbook towards her while you’re focused on the bolts of red cloth on the wall. 

“He’s an idol, you told me they’re off limits.” You retort, “Satin or silk?” 

“Silk, with satin for the liner.” You nod, grabbing the cloth you want. “And they aren’t off limits, at least, he isn’t. Are you making him body chains?”

“If I have time,” You drop the cloth on the table, grabbing your patterns. “I mean, he’s hot, no cap, but there’s no way he’d go for me. He probably has girls throwing themselves at him all the time, I’m not about to do that.” Lin nods understandingly, walking over to the lace collection and picking one. 

“What about this for the vest?” You glance over at her, nodding approvingly at the selection. “He’s a broad boy, are you sure this is going to look good on him?”

“He could make a garbage back look good, Lin. Hey don’t you have a Hyunwoo up front?”

“He’s getting the two of us lunch, as payment for stressing me out.” 

“Sounds like a date to me.” You tease, earning a chuckle from her. 

“Maybe it is.” She pats your back as she walks by, “Good luck, I believe in you.” 

“That makes one of us.” 

~~

You weren’t sure how much time was passing, there were no windows in the workshop, so you just kept going. The pants were finished, you had decided to forgo the vines, and just add roses in a few different colors. The vest was done too, the lace Lin had chosen was made of small birds and flowers, like it had been made for this project. Hoseok had texted you not even an hour after he had left, showing off the mask and shoes he had gotten, which looked really good. 

All that you needed to do was stitch these wings, attach the liner to the torso of the jacket, and put it all together. Oh and make the body chains and the choker. It was going to be a long night, the wings were going to take hours to finish, and the chains probably an hour, but Hoseok would have to be here for that, so it could wait until after the jacket was finished. Then you just had to steam everything and make sure he picked it up on time. 

Good thing sleep is an illusion. 

“Hey google.” You don’t look away from your work as your phone pauses your music to listen to you. “Place an order at Dalcomm Coffee.” You adjust the glasses on your nose, lining the sketch paper up with the jacket. “One large white mocha, no whip with an extra shot of espresso.” 

“Confirm order, one large white mocha. Subtract whip. Add espresso.” The device asks. 

“Confirm.” 

“Order total is-”

“Confirm.” 

“Order placed. Estimated time of arrival: 7:16 pm, Korean Standard Time.” 

“Thanks google, play my work playlist.” 

“You thank your google?” Hoseok’s voice has you glancing up, finding him standing in the doorway with two bags in his hands. Somehow, he looked even better than earlier, now in a muscle shirt and basketball shorts. His face was still hidden behind the mask, like yours, but you could tell he was smiling from the crinkle in his eyes. 

“Yes I do, you don’t?” He shakes his head, laughing softly. 

“Can’t say I do. Maybe I should. May I come in?”

“Yeah sure. The pants and vest are done, if you’d like to try them on.” He shakes his head, perching on the stool next to you with his bags at his feet. 

“I’ll wait until the jacket is done.” He decides. “How are you doing?”

“Working. The lapels are on the machine, so I just need to finish the wings and I’ll be almost done.” You explain, pointing to the machine on the other end of the table. 

“Have you eaten today?” His question shocks you enough to make you look up from your work. Had you eaten today? 

“Uh, no.” You focus back on the chalk in your hands as you tediously redraw the wings onto the fabric. “But I am getting another cup of coffee.” 

“How many cups have you had?” You chuckle, knowing your smile is hidden. 

“Many.” 

“Well, goodthing I brought you dinner.” 

“I’ll eat when I’m done.” 

“How about when you’re done drawing that?” 

“I’ve really got to get this done.” You insist, waving at the jacket. 

“You really need to eat, you still have plenty of time to finish this.” His voice is soft but insistent. “If you don’t eat you’ll get sick.” You huff, tapping the chalk on the table. 

“Alright fine,” You relent, “But let me finish drawing this first.” 

“I can deal with that.” He begins unloading the food, setting it on a nearby table, seeing as your workstation was covered in fabric. 

“You know you didn’t have to buy me dinner.” You comment, eyes still glued to your work. 

“I wanted to.” The way he says is so matter-of-factly has your heart beating a little faster. 

“A man after my own heart.” You joke, glancing over at him. You can tell he’s smiling behind his mask, even though he isn’t looking at you. 

“Maybe.” He mumbles, and you’re pretty sure you weren’t supposed to hear that. “This is beautiful.” He breathes, fingers trailing over the roses on his pants. “You’re very talented.” 

“Thank you. If I’m being honest, this is my first chance to make a full outfit of my own.” You confess. 

“Really? I would have assumed you’ve been doing this for years.” 

“I generally just design, and then Lin and the others actually make them. I usually just get to make accessories and take measurements.” You shrug, re-aligning the original sketch over the fabric. “This is my chance to prove myself.”

“Well, you’ve proven yourself to me.” 

~~

Time moves both too slowly, and too quickly for you. Wonho leaves later in the night, several hours after you’ve finished dinner, telling you to get some sleep and not worry about the jacket. You lie, of course, telling him you will when the lapels are finished, but even when they are, you only move them to the side to continue working on the embroidery. Your hands hurt, your back hurts, your eyes hurt, but as the hours pass, the golden shimmer of the thread expands, unfurling into stellar wings befitting any god. You’re halfway through the second wing when a coffee is set down in front of you. 

“Hoseok, I told you to go to bed.” You respond instantly. 

“He probably is asleep, its only 5.” Lin’s voice is tinged with laughter. You finally look away from the needle, finding your boss standing next to you, and a few of the other designers setting up their workstations. 

“Am?” She nods at your question. “Good, if I started at 8,” You pause doing mental math, “I should have the wings finished by 8, the choker should only take about 30 minutes, I might have this ready for steaming by 9-9:30.” You inform her, focusing your face back on the project at hand. 

“Y/n, did you work all night?” Max, another designer asks. 

“Yeah, I’ve still got a bit to finish, but it will be ready for tonight.” 

“Wait, this is for tonight?” Sungwoo gasps, examining the vest and pants hanging on your rack. 

“Yeah.” You answer curtly, trying to just get back to work. 

“Why are you just working on it now? You should have had it finished yesterday at the latest, we need your help with-”

“Kami, you should be praising Y/n.” Lin interrupts. “While you all got the day off, Y/n was given this task yesterday, and she’ll have it done today. How many of you can say you’ve made a suit in under 40 hours.” Your face is warm as the room goes silent. “That’s what I thought.” Lin scoffs, “As for the rest of you. Kami, you’ve been contracted by Jung Seojoon for an upcoming award show, he’d like to meet at his house at 7. Sungwoo, I believe you have a dress for Perry’s upcoming tour that needs finishing. Max, Harden and Dojoon, you’re on call for repairs and styling for tonight, Rain already called this morning about a broken cufflink, Harden if you could.”

“Yes ma`am.” 

“Good, and leave Y/n alone until the suit is done. Understood?” The room was filled with confirmation and Lin patted your shoulder. “I’ll be in my workroom.” 

~~

You were right, the embroidery was finished by 8, but the entire suit wasn’t ready until almost 11, thanks to the choker taking forever. Sitting on your stool, you gazed at your masterpiece, marveling at how well it turned out, and praying it fit properly. 

“Looks good. Hoseok will be here for pick up at 5, why don’t you head home for a bit, get some sleep.” Lin greets, coming up behind you. 

“I should stay and help with-”

“No. You’re going to go home, until 4, at least. If you wake up before he’s supposed to come pick it up, you can come back and help. Otherwise, we’ll call you if we need you.” She orders instead. “Do not argue with me.” 

“Yes ma’am.” You finally relent. 

The exhaustion hit the moment you walked in your front door, and you ended up passed out on the couch instead of your bed. When you finally woke up, it was thanks to the incessant ringing of your phone on the table next to you, and the sudden lack of being able to breathe thanks to your cat deciding to pass out on your chest. 

“Hello?” You mumble into the device, absently petting the naked kitty. 

“Y/n, it’s Lin. Get up and shower, I’ll be at your house in thirty minutes.” Her words have you sitting up slightly, confused, and knocking the cat off. 

“Sorry, Berus. And what do you mean you’ll be here in 30 minutes?”

“I’m playing fairy godmother tonight. Go shower, now.” Her voice is stern, and something tells you not to question it. 

“Um, alright.” 

The doorbell rings just as you exit the bathroom, still toweling your hair dry. Lin is standing outside with Max and Sungwoo, with a dress bag slung over her shoulder. 

“Uh, hi.” You manage to mutter as they push past you into your apartment. 

“Oh good, your hair isn’t dry, that’ll make styling it easier.” Sungwoo remarks, “Max and I will set up in the kitchen, the lighting’s probably better.” 

“I’ll put this in the bedroom. He’ll be here at 9:45, so that gives us only about two hours for hair and make up, think you can do it?” Lin asks, hanging the dress bag on the curtain rod over the couch, giving you and Berus the chance to ogle what's inside. 

The suit is while, with pale pink and gold flowers adorning most of it. The buttons are ivory with golden trim, and a mask, the same white and gold, with the same almost pink flowers, hangs from the hanger. 

“What is going on? Why are you here and why do you have a suit? And who is going to be here at 9:45?” Sungwoo and Max turn to Lin. 

“You didn’t tell her?” Lin smirks at Max’s question. 

“I told her some. Like I said, I’m playing Fairy Godmother.” She turns to you as she speaks, excitement glittering in her eyes. “You are going to the ball, Cinderella.” You wanted to respond with something intelligent, but all that came out was a very undignified, 

“Huh?”

“Come on, Psyche,” Max laughs, guiding you towards the kitchen, “Your Eros awaits.”

[aggresivelyfriendly]

To Be So Lonely- Chapter 4

California Dreamin

Hi all! It has been ages, but at least one person is still interested, so nanny chapter ahoy! I gave this a revise and a quick read, so.... all mistakes, as ever, are mine!

Enjoy!

Harry didn't like to think of it as plotting.

He was just taking care of her. Right? She needed to relax. She ran herself ragged. We're all attorneys so dedicated? Admittedly, he didn't know a lot of lawyers, it didn't seem a career people were borne for, but if anybody was made to wear the wig, it was Vee. It was admirable, how hard she worked, how much she worked. She might be the most productive person he knew, that may also be because he came from academia. Some people published so fast your head spun, others, didn't. But Vee put the p in productivity. That's why she got the heavy cases, like the one she was coming off. Plus, when she got home, she tried to do as much as possible with the twins. She'd totally kicked him out of last week's wakings though she hasn't slept much.

"Go, I need time with my babies." With a hand wave and a look that brooked no argument, he was dismissed like a case she saw holes in from day one. He'd lingered, just a moment, to watch her scoop up Teo. Belli was still sleeping, but stirring from the noise. A swirl of her tummy with Vee's manicured hand, and she was out. Mateo was quiet now on her shoulder too now. Her beautiful hand splayed over his back at the moment. Harry had no idea when she had time to get her nails done. Maybe her Lunch hour? Though she came home then when she could. He knew it was devotion, to the babies, not her nails. That was probably required to look "professional." She must squeeze those in on the days she wasn't huddling home to see the twins, she loved them so, said it was worth it.

However, he suspected it was guilt as well over the case taking so much time, lots of late nights and missed bed times. She's worked herself to the bone, and he knew better than to mention the dark circles bruised beneath her eyes. He still saw them though. So he'd called his uncle, his pseudo uncle, and got them the place. Even promised he'd help pay for the trip James and his family had take last minute so Harry, Vee and the babies could be alone.

"With what?" His uncle chuckled. "I Know your da tied up your trust fund because you aren't doing an MBA!"

"I'm thirty. I can make my own decisions." Harry insisted. And if that meant he had to pay his own way, that was a learning experience, real adulting too. He told himself everyday he worked to go back to school, and now just did because he couldn't imagine not, that this was the way it was supposed to be. His life hadn't been Normal. Even compared to the other students on his Ivy League program with him.

"You can, but you have to then pay your own way." He could hear the shrug, and the pride. It's why his Dad's best friend was his favorite. Harry knew he sided with him. "But, enough of the tough love stuff. On to the real thing. Why do we have to make ourselves scarce? Something going on?" He left the insinuation heavy in his voice.

"No, C'mon man. She's my boss. She just needs a break. Case has been a killer. And then she's always trying to be super mum when she's home too and not let me do night duty." Harry rolled his eyes like James could see him.

His uncle whistled, "She must be a looker, if you're talking like a husband not the help."

Harry scoffed without any control. The help. Ouch. He didn't feel like help, he felt, needed. "Fuck off. It's not like that. It's professional. She doesnt see me like that anyway. Not her type."

"Oh, I see, that why she did a donor dad? She like ladies?" Harry honestly couldn't tell if he was taking the piss, plus he wanted to give a social justice rant, but knew his Uncle was more messing with him than bigoted, he hoped.

"No! No, least I don't think so?" She wasn't, was she? "Not that it would matter if she was." He protested. He honestly could not tell why it bothered him.

"Oh, quite." James was still amused and Harry was going to make more heavy weather of it, but Harry decided to ignore his uncles tone and teasing.

"James?" He cajoled.

"So, daddy," he'd even ignore the occasional dig, he was glad his uncle couldn't see his lip curl, and that he got back to brass tacks. "What dates are we being kicked about?"

"In two weeks for two weeks."  Harry was looking at the calendar she had of Selena to see how she'd marked it. Everything went into calendars, paper ones. Even though their google one synced to her iPhone. Victoria needed the order, she was so busy. The Selena calendar was just a nod to the other part of her, that wasn't run by a clock and schedule. She loved Selena.

He'd discovered this by accident.

She was so cute when she was unguarded. He was sure that he never would have found out the personal morsel if she hadn't been super stressed and decided to dance it out. She hadn't been expecting him home, he could tell that for sure, she had a red dress on, for the occasion he supposed, though her hair was still up in the mom bun her long tresses were usually scraped up into, and she was barefooted. The dress and her feet were making the most of the Latin beat. Harry was sure he would have watched for quite a while longer had she not performed an impressive turn and opened her eyes to sing "bidi bidi bum bum." He assumed she was looking to use the microwave as a mirror. Give her self a wink maybe.

He couldn't dance, but watching her made him want to learn.

"Ayyy!" She placed her hand over her heart. "Por favor Harry! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

" I didn't mean to!" He proclaimed. "The kiddos," he gestured to the dowsing twins in their Bob double stroller. "Were just done with the park. You ok now?" He was suppressing his mirth, it's not like he caught her with her hand in a cookie jar.

"Yeah, yeah, my heart rate is back to normal." He wasn't sure that was true, her breath was still rapid. "Put those dimples away!"

"There are no dimples." He tried to make his face as flat as the pancakes the kids liked from a Trader Joe's. He knew his face was probably betraying him. That muscular defect showed unless his face was truly neutral, and he was definitely engaged, amused.

"Stop laughing at me!" She glowered. Oh! Her flush was lovely.

He finally just burst out, with the ridiculous laugh, the one that was like a opening shot at the races.

Vee was certainly off. She dissolved into giggles too. And then they were laughing together until they were just looking at one another. Harry let the dimples bloom fully then, Couldn't help it, really.

Victoria took a big breath, notched her chin back and forth an inch or two, and said, "Pardon, I'm gonna go change."

"Dress is pretty." He let slip. She shot him a warning look, but she was smiling, so he felt the need to push a bit more. "A little formal for nap time." Her flipped up middle finger as she rounded the hallway entrance made him snicker. He controlled it so he didn't hear that tone she used on the phone some times. He didn't want to be on the receiving end of that, he didn't think.

He'd been clicking a button on Amazon a moment later on the Selena calendar. Well, after he googled the lyrics to figure out who she had been dancing to. Then he remembered another little detail they'd need in the beach house.

"Oh, set up the crib!" The babies could have the third bedroom. Between him and Vee, so they could share duties. She needed rest. He was gonna try to slyly make sure he took the first night shift. She'd want to hear them, and he was sure he couldn't pull it past her if he put them on one end and her on another.

James laughed. "Jesus, should I also call the chef?"  He was joking. Harry wasn't.

"Yeah, at least give me the number. She doesn't cook. Maybe buy a second crib."

"Do you cook then?" His uncle could barely keep the mirth from frothing over.

"Yeah, when she works late. So she doesn't have to eat out all day." Where was the shame in being kind?

"Oh, Harry, you better hope she's a looker and does like men, cuz if you aren't gunning for daddy, you are most certainly the help." He wasn't even trying to hide the cackle.

The help? That smarted like a slap across the ass cheek, though it was definitely unreasonable to be bothered. "Well, I am the nanny. And I definitely try to be helpful."

"Yes, employee of the month." James kept laughing at Harry while they said their goodbyes. He could hear the snickers and was sure he would be telling Jules the moment they got off then phone.

He'd got off the phone and thought about whether he was the help for ages. Railing against the insinuation.

Then accepting it, of course he was the help! He was hired help. Must be his upbringing that was showing in his annoyance at the term. He'd need to work on that. Get over himself and his privilege.

And be the best damn help he could be.

The alternative as to why he was so bothered, he couldn't think about that. Or James's ideas about his design on daddy. Though his mind did a little wander down that trail.

Gunning for daddy, how ridiculous! He just appreciated her, respected her, liked her. He tried to make her life better, like she did him, dancing to Selena and smiling and such.

Shit.

Or giving him a job and gifting him with time with her enchanting, infuriating babies. That was where his locus of gratitude was, right? Not for the chance to be close to her.

He decided to distract himself from surfacing realizations. So he dove into planning.

He thought about his own time there, and did some googling. At first he was thinking they'd just sit on the beach a ton, he'd spent hours staring at the waves like he'd once inhabited the waters and they were calling him home. When he thought more of it, he realized that was what Vee needed, but she'd bail by day three if laying about was the only plan. They'd have to get into something else too. He reckoned outside, with sunshine, and something physical.

Hiking, once she got sick of the beach, or pool, or both. That would do the trick.

This was going to be so relaxing. He wondered if they could take the twins hiking? He was researching back pack carriers when she came home.

"Do you like hiking?" He asked immediately after he said hi. He had to restrain himself from kissing her cheek hello while he scrolled through his phone.

He'd ask himself what was going on, but it would be a lie. He'd kinda known, that he was feeling at the very least familial towards her, but ever since his Uncle razed him about liking her, he was much more aware of it.

Ignorance really could be bliss. Because he was now aware of what he was missing and his subterranean wants. It had started normally, with no romantic inclinations. When he'd come for his interview, she'd impressed him, and she'd looked really tired. But pretty, really pretty, and she had made some gorgeous kids. She could use him, his help, and he could learn from her. He just knew it.

Then his crush has sort of just grown in the background, like the tomato plant his mum had growing up. He was sure it took tending, but he never saw any take place. His only memory of it was when he was forced to help build the raised bed, and picking fat green caterpillars off of it once until he put one in his sister's hair, he was off tomato duty then. After that, all he recalled was being overwhelmed by the hordes of red ripe fruit that came from it when the sun was high. He supposed he'd had a foundational moment he didn't recognize during his interview either.

Partly, he remembered really wanting this job, to help and support this family, this woman. So he supposed his level of engagement was different even in the first stage, a compulsion, just not parental.

He didn't do much tending, not to his budding crush, but he supposed when he caught her dancing and not only was moved by her hips but couldn't help but notice her lively eyes and her vanished dark circles, was some sort of middle stage.

Today, getting off the phone with his uncle was seeing all the fruit of the labor he wasn't even aware he was doing. He'd been tending and tilling, spacing and watering, nurturing his interest.

Now he just had to decide what to do about it.

Option one, ignore it, and they continue living as they have been. Like some version of a family; they're certainly a team, but one where he is the impermanent piece, like the quarterback about to graduate onto new things. Harry doesn't want new things, well he doesn't think so. He's fairly certain he wants this team, Vee as his coach and the twins as the freshman walk ons. He's just not sure how to get it.

So, option one seems no good. He doesn't want to just pretend he hasn't realized his feelings. He's known since day one he admired Vee, adored the twins. He still felt those things, they'd just deepened and he wanted to put their needs right before his own for the foreseeable future. Which was why he'd once again delayed going back to school. Another extension. He'd told himself it was about the money, and he did need that, but really he wasn't ready to be here less.

Option two, he's direct. He's imagined that scenario in his head. The setting as the living room they share. He can tell they've just gotten back, their cheeks sun kissed by the California sun, and their suitcases still full in the living area.

"Vee, have a seat. It's been a long day. Want some wine?" Should you be able to hear the nerves in your voice in a daydream?

"Yes please." She'd sigh. And he'd only heard that like twice when he made this offer in real life, so further proof he was imagining best case scenario. After a few sips, he can imagine he'd get caught up watching her relax and be mesmerized by the working of her throat. It would take courage, but she'd be relaxed and he'd be keyed up by the two weeks of her in swimsuits and watching her lick the rim of her wine glass with her eyes closed. Sometimes excitement was related to bravery.

"Vee," he'd start, "Victoria," so she'd know he was serious. Her eyes would open, connect to his. Then, he'd just say it.

But what? I'd like to take you out. I think I have feelings for you. No. I do have feelings for you. Should I just move into your bedroom? What does your kiss taste like?

He had no idea how to tell her his heart, and that seemed like an odd place to start considering they basically lived together. Shit, would she fire him? He needed the job, and the twins, oh god! He'd miss them so.

He couldn't come out of left field then. He'd need to feel her out, flirt, watch for reactions. Malibu seemed like an ideal place to move beyond the support he showed her. The sunsets and skin had to be romantic. It felt romantic to him when he was there alone, the feeling would magnify with a love interest. He'd roll his eyes at himself if he could see his reflection. He just had to see if he was interesting to her, on her romantic radar. If she seemed bewildered or put off, he'd save his job and let his feelings fester, save money and go back to school. Try to move on.

He'd have to find a way to stay in touch with the twins.

Or, she'd be receptive.

That might have been a scarier thought. More exciting too! He'd start sooner. A glass of wine, he'd let his hand linger when he handed it to him.

But she'd just begged off for her bed.  "You're so charming, Styles!" He'd teased himself as he went to bed, well tossed and turned all night. He'd needed mountains of iced coffee to stay awake the next day on their flights, the babies were cranky too. They must be feeding off his energy, and Hers. Vee looked wiped as well, so every time he got himself a refresh, he got her one too. Everything took forever, and he was vibrating by the time they picked up their rental. The babies were slowly fading and Vee looked more keyed up than him. They needed to relax, a way to unwind.

That's when the idea sparked him. The pool, the sunset, and a night cap that he could extend into drinks. All the makings of a romantic evening, or a relaxing one. He'd just lean into whatever way she seemed to be veering.

His imagination had hoped though, as he distracted himself from waiting for service in the line.

He started with thoughts of kissing her, tasting the cool water beading on her lips and the contrast of the warm recesses of her mouth. He might have groaned out loud if Belli hadn't whined.

The traffic was a welcome distraction from his nerves and though he knew the way, Vee drove and it took just that bit longer for her lack of familiarity. Especially with traffic. He offered to do it, but she'd got the rental, at her insístanle since he'd put so much work into the trip and found free accommodations. Her name was on it. "You get to play navigator, and she'd found the energy to wink!

Good sign?

The drive knocked out the crank pots in the backseat, though they had screamed until the Mulholland Pass. Until Harry realized the sun was in their eyes directly. He'd hopped over the seats and blocked it with his hands. It wasn't comfortable, but got took away the overstimuli for all the occupants of the car. Once they pass out, he and Vee shared a relieved pair of sighs. That got his mind wandering again, about other shared exhales. Soon they were pulling up the familiar beach side road and parking, each taking a baby in hand and communicating with their eyes to get them in the house.

Once Teo was in his crib, Harry cocked his head to the driveway and moved behind her. She nodded, understanding he'd unload the car while she settled Belli. She was the hard case. Harry tried to be businesslike about it, though he admitted the brush of his front to her back was more than accidental plus, he sniffed her, inaudible. She smelled of plane, and baby, and coffee. And Vee. He smiled on his way out the doorway and it encouraged him, how well they did this together.

He dropped the bags, the many bags, she'd packed just inside her door and was in his room and rooting for the swim trunks he'd packed on top before he knew it. He text her directions to meet him out back and went before his nerves could get the best of him.

Did she like tattoos? Would they turn her off? She knew about his arms, he was fairly certain he'd been wearing a t shirt at his interview. His collection was extensive though. Eye-catching, in his experience with romantic interests, usually compelling. Unless she hated body art.

Too late to do anything now, years late, and since when was he self conscious, especially about his tattoos.

He needed to get a move on if he was gonna be ready for her. He thought he knew James, well, in this case Julia, well enough that they'd have what he was looking for, probably already chilled.

He found the Moët and grabbed the glasses by the stem and huddled outside. The gorgeous weather wrapped around him, more comfortable than any sweater and the water enveloped his thighs. If she came out soon, hopefully in a suit. They'd just catch the sunset. Her skin would look so pretty in the golden light, and then moon light, probably any light. Still, he was going to keep track of her changes. He tanned well, he could show imagine how tawny she would get. His confidence was returning with his plan working out so well and his desires so near the surface. Should he pour the champagne, or would the bottle popping be a nice official start to the vacation? He was mulling it over waist deep in the water when her voice caught his attention.

"Dios Mío!" He heard from over his shoulder, and when he looked back, he would have said the same but it had little to do with the sunset he assumed she was marvelling over and everything to do with Vee.

He nearly forgot the champagne and cavemanned her over his shoulder and straight into where he was in over his head.

But that was overly forward. He at least needed to get her wet before he dove into the deep end.