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mitigatingacademics · 11 months

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{11.07.23}

A little background information.

Our polling location has two VLMs -- Voting Location Managers.

When I worked my first election (at an elementary school approximately 25 minutes from where I live - they actually had assigned me closer to home and called 2 days before said election asking if I would be willing to work somewhere else [We'll pay you a bonus!] - I mean, I'd never done it before, it was all the same to me, so, sure) Shawn (who is a woman and always has the latest information on the most affordable fashion) and Paula (bringer of the cake to the potluck), both Democrats, were our VLMs.

That election, apparently, resulted in a change in majority in that precinct from Democrat to Republican which required a change in VLMs on party lines.

Among poll workers Republicans seem to be incredibly scarce county wide. Our location averages about 3 to 12, with maybe 1 or 2 Independents/Undeclared.

Nevertheless, last election, and this one as well, had Republican VLMs.

Why they're not bipartisan teams is beyond me. That's how everything else is done. It's got me wondering about the Rover teams as well. I might actually ask at my next training class.

They harp on bipartisan teams for everything - setting up machines, answering voter questions, etc., etc., which makes sense to a certain extent (speaking to a voter on your own opens you up to all kinds of potential of the voter accusing, truthfully or not, that you pressured them to vote in a particular way, etc.) but becomes incredibly impractical when every time a voter has a question about why the machine is telling them their ballot is incomplete (and in this case it was almost always because one of the races was a 'choose no more than 2' with only 1 candidate and 2 write-in slots...) and technically you're supposed to track down one of those rare Republicans and pull them off of whatever job they're currently doing before you explain that to the voter. Every. Time.

Sometimes you need that other party other half, though - like the time Renee and I were assisting a voter that asked about how to vote on Issue 1 - "I want a woman to be able to have a choice." The temptation to offer guidance can be real. I want to believe that I would have been just as motivated to see a 'pro-life' voter vote their beliefs (and also not help them any more than we're allowed), but having a counterpart is added assurance that we keep it real. We even got a chuckle afterwards - having completed his ballot, the voter asked us if we could tell him then if he'd made the correct selection...which of course we couldn't.

We are, at times, frustratingly good at our jobs. A lady at the last election (the illegal summer election with one issue on the ballot) more or less told me I was useless because I wouldn't explain the issue to her. That's not what we're there for, ma'am. Where have you been that you knew to show up to vote but hadn't already formed an opinion on the singular issue? The issue, by the way, that is full text taped to the wall over there, go read it if you'd like?

This election, someone asked me, with one of the local judicial contests on the screen, all of which were running unopposed, "how do we know if they're Republicans or Democrats?" ...that hasn't been listed on the ballots in YEARS. Google is the answer. Preferably researched before you come to vote, but, worst case scenario, on your phone right there in front of the screen. ...at least that's how *I* operate. When advising voters, it's just "that's no longer listed, if you don't wish to vote in a specific contest, hit next to proceed." 🤷🏻‍♀️

At one point I witnessed Paula take a partisan mailer out of a woman's hands and tell her she couldn't take that to the voting machine with her. ...I don't think that's accurate. I've taken many a Democratic slate to the polls personally. There are rules against displaying that kind of thing openly while waiting in line (and for good reason, I get an attitude that even best efforts can't prevent with customers at the real job that come in there wearing MAGA hats - we, at the polling place, support democracy and your right to make poor, end of life as we know it choices, but you're going to keep it to yourself) but the only reason any of us even saw that woman's mailer was because she dropped it while signing in. 🤷🏻‍♀️

ANY WAY...

Renee, a current, Republican majority VLM, is great. Even when Shawn and Paula were the VLMs at my first election, Renee was knowledgeable and useful. They've all been doing this for a long time and I have so much respect for the way they come together, regardless of who is in charge on any particular occasion to get things organized and make democracy happen.

Kevin, the other Republican VLM, is not so great. He wasn't fantastic last time and was even worse this time. I realize they're not spoiled for choice in terms of Republicans overall, but something needs to be done about Kevin.

Generally speaking, protocol is that a VLM is supposed to reach out to all poll workers of their location at some point during the weekend before the election to make sure they plan to show up for set-up, etc.

The reason I didn't hear from anyone until 4:15 Monday night (report time is 6:00pm) was because Kevin had the call sheet and Renee assumed that, given that he had the call sheet, he made the calls. He did not. I was going to show up, called or not. Nonetheless, something needs to be done about Kevin.

As seems to have become our tradition, I spent Monday night helping Maricela hang signs. She likes to partner with me for this because I'm 'tall.' ...I'm 5'5...but I'm taller than her. 🤣 I also think she likes me because I entertain her penchant for gossip. I've learned to like her, but it has been quite the experience. She makes absolutely no neverminds about who she goes after from anything about which side of the lot they park their car on to where they set their coffee or how they make a plate in the lunch area. I mostly listen to what she says so as not to become the next object of unanticipated rage. 🤣

I also made a new friend who, though I didn't know it at the time, is actually Paula's niece. She asked me if I knew where the restrooms were and as I directed her there, I advised her, having learned from my own experience, that said restrooms are designed for little people (being an elementary school and all) and to sit down carefully. We both laughed, but when she came back she thanked me for the warning. 🤣

Tuesday morning I helped Shawn open the DS 200s. By helped I mean I read and re-read aloud the instructions in the book until Shawn was able to make something happen. By DS 200s I mean the machines that Shawn would later direct a voter to referring to them as 'the upper echelon of the voting experience.' 🤣

We got the first one open (and by first one, I mean #2 because that's where we started...thankfully, it didn't matter 🤣) after a few false starts and expected the second one (#1) to go better...which it did, until the last steps which included printing several reports. It made a whirring sounds and the screen SAID it was printing the reports...but nothing came out.

Right at that very moment our Rovers arrived for their first visit of the day.

The male Rover, whose name I unfortunately never did catch because they were both FANTASTIC, produced a key much more efficient than the one Shawn had been trying and opened up a compartment we mere PEO peons had never seen let alone been trained on and had #1 spitting out every report we requested in less than a minute's time. BLESS. 🙌🏻

Before continuing on their rounds our wonderful Rovers made mention that we were doing better than the other locations they had visited. ...this may have been something they were telling everyone...and I wouldn't blame them, even if it was, because hearing it really did seem to provide a noticeable morale increase to a group of good folks doing their very best, very early in the morning on very little sleep.

A note about Rovers, I can appreciate how good Sandy and her DS 200 magician counterpart truly were because I've seen the job done...worse.

There was the time we ran out of stickers and had none for HOURS. Now, I acknowledge at least it wasn't ballots, but have you ever seen a full grown adult take time out of their day to perform their civic duty...and leave sad about a sticker? That's a travesty.

This time around we had so many stickers that I did not hesitate, when one man came in to vote with his two young daughters and handed his sticker to one of them, to step in with another for the other girl because "two stickers for two helpers." Paula even praised me for it. "Future voters of America!" 😊

It was that previous election that I learned that some companies give people time off to go vote and they use the stickers as proof that that's what they did with the time. ...I was so upset FOR those folks that I all but offered to take pictures of them in front of 'vote here' signs. 🤦🏻‍♀️

This time around we had everything we needed and then some. From actual ballot paper to name tag making materials that, mentioned Monday night and having been sure we'd have to wait until the next day to have our request refilled, I just stared when Sandy had it there within 5 minutes, "How many do you need?"

At one point Sandy's other half asked her if she wanted him to retrieve something from the car...and I still deeply regret that I never got to actually see said vehicle with my own eyes.

Mobile democracy. Y'all got extra red tags and blue seals? I know you've got surge protectors and Apple product charging cords. It's like the school store, but so much better.

When they roved in for their 3rd check of day around 3:30, I made a comment to a girl that I worked the last election with that, while kudos to these Rovers for doing a heck of a job...they couldn't compete in entertainment value with last election's female Rover who was not only not the nicest individual, but also literally wore bedroom slippers while offering criticism of us in front of voters. ...it's those kind of experiences that makes doing the job period, let alone doing it well, seem so worthy of praise.

One of the new workers brought what she referred to as "taco soup." It was too thick to be a soup, if you ask me, but it was incredibly tasty. Fixed up with the addition of the guac and chips another person brought? Heaven.

I was enjoying that when Maricela explained to Kevin that he needed to wash his hands after sneezing before touching the food. 🤦🏻‍♀️ Something needs to be done about Kevin.

Later, when Shawn got us Little Caesars Pizza, which is her thing, someone suggested she also get Crazy Bread this time. Amazing.

American Democracy, brought to you by carbohydrates. 🙌🏻

Hilariously (at least in my mind), I also like to claim that Adam (Kinzinger)'s book helped me get through the day after my feet started to ache to the point that sitting down was going to mean not getting back up again.

It was the only alternate entertainment I'd brought with me...and, honestly, I'd rather deal with angry (for no real reason) voters asking 'WHO'S IN CHARGE HERE' while Renee stood silently behind me waiting to see how it was going to play out (🤣) than read more hot take war stories. ... At least it's good for something, I guess. If Liz's book is equally disappointing I'll have to take a day off of work to deal with my emotions.

It was just past 7:30, we were officially closed, having made it through yet another election with only shut down / clean up protocol left to complete.

Renee, the other wing of my 'bi-partisan eagle' "we're better because of our differences" had been been planning for hours to approach our final duties with efficiency. Her blue tags were marked M (master) and A (accessory) and she'd assigned folks to duties based on who best kept who on track. I ended up reassigned 3 different times before the tasks actually began, but I was happy to do whatever was deemed most helpful as Renee, as different as we may be, and as much as she enjoys joking around, demonstrated an impressively respectable level of leadership.

As we began our end of day assignments I was exhausted but in good spirits until it was pointed out to me that Kevin had my personal election instruction book in his hand.

It had my name on it. We're instructed to put our names on them during training.

It wasn't that he had my book which was the problem. Had he asked, I would have gladly given it to him.

It was that he would have had to have gone INTO MY PURSE to get it. Maricela then informed me that she'd seen him looking through workers' belongings.

I tried so hard not to allow this to upset me. It had been a great day.

I WAS upset, though. There were others around as the situation developed and I knew I needed to say something. I asked him if he'd taken the book from my purse and he admitted that he had. Another worker, speaking up even before I could at that point, said that it's never alright to go into a woman's purse (or anyone's private belonging in this kind of situation, let's be real) without permission.

Kevin's excuse was, "Well, someone took mine."

Sir...

No one took his book. Everyone had been given one during training and there were at least 2 extras provided with the election materials during set-up. They were all over the place. Did he misplace his? Probably. Had someone else moved it? Possibly. Did it have his name on it? Probably not. He's not really one for following instructions. Did he absolutely, unequivocally miss the point here? Yes.

Someone took my book off of him and handed it to me. In the wildness of the situation, I don't even remember who.

Absolutely floored not by his lack of apology, but by his inability to comprehend why he'd been wrong, I didn't even offer to let him use the book if he needed it.

I went, then, to check my purse to make sure nothing else was missing. I didn't expect that there would be, and there wasn't as far as I could tell.

Exhausted to the point of feeling a little other worldly in response to the ridiculousness that had just transpired, I went to help Maricela take down signs, but I just couldn't let it go.

Even now, 2 days later, the thing that upsets me the most is the disrespect. It had been such a fun day. We'd managed to find ways to make the best of even the less pleasant situations. Our little precinct is not MY precinct as far as where I would be assigned to vote (I've been early voting for years), but the regulars there have BECOME my election family. I look forward to and enjoy working with them. This time around there were several new faces that I made sure to tell I expect to see them at the next one...the same way Shawn had done to me after my first election - because it's nice to know that your contribution is valued and your return is anticipated. As odd as the whole thing is, I feel a connection there...and that just made the transgression that much worse.

I felt like something had happened that couldn't be ignored, but at the same time I worried making it into an issue would result in more trouble than it was worth. What if I ended up getting reassigned? I still have concerns about that, honestly. I've been reassured numerous times that I'm not the one that was in the wrong...but there are multiple ways to solve a problem, right?

I found myself wandering around, peeling tape off of signs for several minutes, my mind elsewhere. I almost snapped at one of the other ladies when she asked, for the 3rd time, what to do with the election specific signs (text of issues and such) that were never going to be used again. If you don't know how to work sign crew, don't work sign crew! ...even though she was just trying to help, to pick up the slack I was creating with my lack of focus...and I had to remove myself from the situation.

I went to talk to Renee who was working machine crew. I asked her if reporting Kevin to the Rovers would cause issues for her. ...because as bad as Kevin is as a VLM, Renee is that much better. Something needs to be done about Kevin regardless, but not in a way that would cause problems for Renee. She'd been nowhere near that situation as it went down and her previous frustration with him had not gone unnoticed. If she had shown any hesitation I would have found another way. She didn't, though.

In all of my past experiences we've gotten everything shut down, signed out, put away and have to wait for the Rovers to come by one last time to release us. Ironically, in this case, they showed up maybe 5 minutes after I'd spoken to Renee.

Grateful for their hi-vis vests because I saw them before they entered our main area, I had to decide in that moment what I was going to do.

To be honest, I'm still not sure it was the right thing. I caught them right outside the door of the gymnasium and asked if I could speak to them before they came inside.

We were all exhausted and just wanted to go home. I have no doubt at all they felt the very same and the last thing they needed was another issue now, after the part that caused issues was supposed to be over. Had I not been so tired I might have cried. I feel emotional just thinking about it now...which is stupid, but also not because the part that hits the hardest isn't what went wrong, but the kindness that followed.

I didn't want to be a tattle-tale. I didn't want to create more work for them (especially considering the only reason I even felt comfortable reporting an issue to them was that they'd done the job better than anyone else I'd ever worked with). I didn't want my name on an incident report - in anyway shape or form...but Kevin is a problem and this was just the latest incidence, something that I had experienced personally and if I *didn't* say something, when the next thing inevitably happened, I would feel responsible for that as well.

I expressed as much of this as I could to these wonderful, civic minded individuals whom, no matter what they were getting paid, it's not enough, and they listened to me. They did not rush me out of the way to attend to more important things. They asked a few questions to better understand. I mentioned several times that while yes, I was upset on a personal level, my only real motivation in raising the issue to the next level was for there to be reconsideration in choosing VLMs for the next election. I understand that they don't have a lot of Republican options, but Kevin has demonstrated a a tendency towards bad decision making one too many times to continue in a position of leadership.

Our Rovers seemed to decide between themselves that a report would be necessary. I both didn't love that and felt relieved at the same time. I was grateful that they took me seriously. At one point the idea of calling Veronica (the Democrat of the pair responsible for the training classes at the BOE) directly (in the days following the election, at which point, despite her encouragement of our phone calls if we needed assistance at any time, I'm sure I would have lost my conviction and done nothing) had gone through my head - but that would have been going over Renee's head as well as the Rovers'. My respect for all 3 of them made that feel inappropriate. Sandy did ask about Renee's take on what had happened. Among those doing it right, there seems to be great regard for the chain of command and I wished to respect that as well.

Sandy actually put her arm around me and said, "I'm sorry that happened to you." I can't tell you what that meant to me - both that she cared and offered reassurance that saying something about it didn't make me the problem.

I went back to work then, trying my best to focus and be as useful as possible. The Rovers left a short while later. They made a general announcement while we were working thanking us for our efforts and saying they hoped to see us all in March. On their way out the door, Sandy turned, pointed at me, and was like "You take care." Bless.

I've only ever seen one Rover at multiple elections, but it just so happens that our little precinct is Sandy's personal voting location so odds are good I'll see her again at some point. Might need to ask in training if we're allowed to hug the voters. 🤣

After all the signage was taken down and the machines had been put away, those of us with nothing left to do while the accounting was being done have a noted history of 'wall sitting' while we wait to be dismissed.

I sat next to Maricela, reflecting on recent events. She shared with me information I hadn't realized - I thought Kevin had been an established regular working at the precinct when I started there. According to Maricela, who has been there since the dawn of democracy, that's not the case. She said, that in fact, my first time there was probably Kevin's first time as well. This did make me feel better about, if it would happen to come down to it, who has more of a claim on getting to stay at that location verses being assigned to another. Kevin might be a VLM, but he's a terrible one...which is the whole point, so. 🤷🏻‍♀️

When it came time to finish up the last of things, we all had to clock-out on the iPad as well as manually sign the daily sheet.

The woman who always works the provisional table has, in my opinion, a history of a terrible attitude towards others - not all the time, but enough that I generally give her a wide berth. She seems to get a pass from just about everyone, though, because she's good at the accounting, too. Along with provisionals, those are two things I have no intention of touching, so, respect for that. ...at least until she turned on Shawn.

We're just standing there in a makeshift line waiting to sign the paper (none of us could leave until everyone had signed, anyway) and for what seemed like no reason at all this woman is screaming at Shawn about 'this is ridiculous' etc. a little colorful language thrown in, then she says something that I hear way too often from the most obnoxious patrons at the real job 'if you don't let me do it next you're going to have to call an ambulance because I'm going to lose my mind' 🤨

Shawn was just sitting there letting this bounce off of her and she looks up at me as it appeared that my turn was next and she asks "Would you mind terribly if we allow her to go next?"

Not at all! 😐

...because and only because it seemed as if this would end the inexplicable insanity that Shawn was dealing with. Not that anyone would deserve that kind of treatment, but Shawn is so nice, a hard worker, consistent even tempered positive vibes.

We're all tired. Certain allowances and all. But don't come at Shawn like that. I didn't even need to hear the beginning of it to know it was misplaced.

After we'd gotten signed out new friend Lisa grabbed me and dragged me into the now deserted break area. I'd forgotten that she asked if she could pray with me before we left and I'd agreed.

I'm not a religious person so to speak, but I did grow up in the church and I liked Lisa a lot. I thought it was nice that she wanted to share something like that with me.

She prayed for the Lord to help me keep the conviction to become an attorney. ...it was at that point that I remembered that over lunch when she told me her 67 year old sister will be graduating with her RN next summer, I blurted out that I want to go to law school.

Election days are weird. I haven't even mentioned law school to my best friend.

Next, several of us helped Renee load her car with all of the things that needed to be returned to the BOE.

I have no idea where Kevin, who was, technically, equally as responsible for those things, had gone.

When we finally were making our final departure as a group Shawn said to me, as she had once before, "We'll see you next time, right?"

I said yes (BOE approval pending).

That locks me into the February LSAT.

All the better.

#Personal #Elections

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blessed-artist · 2 years

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Thank you so much for tagging me @holbytlanna!! 💙

Rules: answer the questions and tag fifteen mutuals

1. Are you named after anyone?

Funny story actually, I am technically “named after my great grandmother”. But what actually happened was my mom had been super sick with the flu plus morning sickness and had just laid on the couch for a week throwing up and watching a tv show. And while she was watching she noticed how kind and patient this one character was and decided to name me after her. Fast forward a few weeks and my great grandmother asks about baby names and my mom is like “oh we are thinking about (my name)” and my grandmother goes “OH!!!! You are naming her after ME!!?” And my mom (who had no idea that was her middle name) was like “uuuhhm yes absolutely that’s what we are doing”.

So long story short I’m named after a tv show character but my grandma thought it was after her 😂

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last week. Which is weird because I really don’t cry often (I’ve been told it’s unhealthy how little I cry 😂)

3. Do you have kids?

Not yet, but hopefully someday!

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

A lot more than I should probably. I naturally am a very sarcastic person but I have been trying to not say the first sarcastic thing I think of because while it often seems clever it’s also usually kinda rude.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Aesthetically probably eyes or smile. Attitude wise, probably how they talk about people who aren’t there.

6. What's your eye colour?

Brown but they get a little bit green on the edges if I’m really tired or stressed.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings 100%! I don’t like scary movies at all.

8. Any special talents?

I can roll a coin across my fingers which I think is pretty cool. I read a book where the main character did that all the time and decided I must learn so I did.

9. Where were you born?

The southern part of North America.

10. What are your hobbies?

Pencil drawings, reading, piano, and I’ve been trying to get back into knitting and crocheting.

11. Have you any pets?

Unfortunately no :( but I would love to have a cat and/or dog!

12. What sports do you play/have played?

I have zero athletic ability. I don’t play anything competitively but I play volleyball for fun with a group of friends in the summer. I hate playing sports but I love my friends and it’s a good way to hang out. Plus we usually get supper afterwards!

13. How tall are you?

I honestly can never remember. Probably around 5’6”?

14. Favorite subiect in school?

Does art count? I mean I also loved math. It’s awful and made me cry a time or two but once you get something it��s so cool how everything all makes sense. It’s very satisfying.

15. Dream job?

I mean I would love to one day be a stay at home mom like my mom was but other than that I don’t really have any grand hopes and dreams. Just something that pays well enough for me to afford the books I want to read I guess 🤷‍♀️

I feel like a lot of people have been tagged already so I won’t tag many and sorry if you already have done this and I missed it.

Tagging with no pressure @madsophiehatter @a-marble @duchess-of-mischief and anyone else who wants to do this can consider themselves tagged and tag me in yours!

#Holby!#tag games #Bucharest speaks

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jimenaayalaa · 2 years

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Scene 1 - In the apartment

Harley: "So how do you feel?"

Sargent: “How do you want me to feel Harley, how does anyone feel right now”

Harley: “Hey, I know you're stressed, but your tone is pissing me off. I am simply asking you how you feel; all I need is an answer.”

Sargent: “I think the answer is pretty obvious. The way everyone feels when they get evicted and have nowhere to go. Why even ask? Obvisiovuly not great.”

Harley: “It's always something with you isn't it? A Good or bad shouldn't be so damn hard Sarg.”

Sargent: “Give me a fucking break. I work 12-hour shifts 6 days a week for you to stay home all day and give you a prissy life yet you still complain Harley” LOUD

Harley: “You cannot be serious. You know the reason I’ve been home these past 6 months. Stop acting like it's by choice. If you couldn't afford this apartment you should've told me from the beginning. Not until the week before we get evicted, Sargent.”

Sargent: “Stop acting like you didn't pressure me into getting it. I told you I could barely afford the deposit and you rolled your eyes at me.”

Interrupted by a baby crying

Scene 2 - In the grocery Store

Sargent: “This is enough for the next few days”

Harley: “Are you serious?”

Sargent: “I have barely money on my card. I don't want to go over budget it would just make things harder.”

Harley: “Just spilt the payment between cash and your card so we can get some more things.”

Sargent: “No, you know I don't like to carry cash.”

Harley: “Maybe you should start.”

Sargent: “Cut the attitude we are in public”

Harley: “What you don't want these people to see that you broke?”

Sargent: “We are broke.”

Scene 3 - In the car

*Baby crying in the background

Harley: “I am genuinely done with you. You work so much and still have no money. Sometimes I wonder if you have another woman.”

Sargent: “That's rich Harley. How is Ardin by the way? I see you guys text all night.”

Harley: “He's just a friend and you know that.”

Sargent: “Sure... Sure.How about you get a job and stop complaining so damn much.”

Harley: “I haven't been able to look into it considering that I have been looking for a place for us to stay until we can get a new place. You should be so grateful that my sister is even allowing us to stay in her extra room.”

Sargent: “Did you tell her the truth about why we need to stay there? Or did you lie like always?”

A truck comes closer and closer

Harley: Don't be like that, please.

EVERYTHING SUDDENLY GOES BLACK

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mylifeasaserver · 2 years

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Bitch you thought

Yesterday I had quite the surprise as apparently my rate of pay changes in two weeks, and not in the way we all hope - with more money.

No, for some otherworldly reason my pay was slated to go down.

As one might imagine, I had issue with this.

Given that it was Sunday I decided to just talk to my manager about it today when I went in and it would get cleared up quick enough and I could get back to doing whatever the hell it is I do here.

I talked to the manager and she said she’d look into it for me. Fair enough.

Come to find out, our regional manager decided to cut my pay “to incentivize me to finish my certification training.” My manager relayed this to me, and since this job market is perfect for telling shitty employers to get fucked, I was thoroughly incentivized to get a new job and give notice at this one - for one day before the pay cut. **Author’s note: I suppose I should specify that I did not give a bunch of attitude to my manager, it’s her boss’ dipshit decision I had a problem with. I simply stated when my last day was and went back to my tasks.**

My manager immediately calls the regional. They need me, since I actually do shit like I’m supposed to without a fight. There’s no overtime right now (it will affect manager bonuses, so they’re especially militant about it) and virtually everybody in the pharmacy is at 40 hours already. They can’t afford for me to leave, it’s so busy again that fewer people could impact those shithead surveys.

The regional calls and wants to talk to me. Because I’m dumb as hell, I pick up the phone.

Regional: I adjusted your pay to motivate you to finish your certification training! We’ll restore you to your current pay once that’s done! How does that sound?

Me: Well, it sounds like I was right to give my notice.

Regional: Why would you quit? We’re putting your pay back once you’ve completed the training.

Me: I’m quitting to motivate you to hire somebody who is willing to put up with your bullshit.

Regional: You need to watch how you talk to me.

Me: I’m on my notice, remember? If you would prefer I can just leave now.

Regional: I would not prefer that. Don’t you care about the patients?

Me: Not nearly enough to be paid less to do the same job. I went 3 months without being able to do any training because we were so flooded with patients, so by your logic I should have insisted on the training instead of worrying about them anyway.

Regional: That’s not what I’m saying.

Me: Too bad that’s what I’m hearing. My last day is the day before the pay cut. My decision is final.

And then I hung up. What will she do? Fire me? OH NO! You can’t drive down the street without seeing HELP WANTED signs everywhere. Pretty sure I could replace this place in a few days, and even get another pharmacy job somewhere else SINCE I NOW HAVE FUCKING EXPERIENCE.

She called back and I declined to talk to her again, stating that I’d leave first. I figure if she fires me I have a few days off. She talks to my manager.

The manager, after getting off that call, says the regional thinks I’m very volatile and make rash decisions. Apparently the regional is capable of learning from her experiences, even if they’re stupid.

Later in the day my manager gets an email saying the pay cut is delayed so long as I finish the training before my 1 year mark. I’m promised it’ll be finished before then.

Alrighty.

I know this has set me up for hardship in the future with getting raises and whatnot, but it’s my understanding this company is shit for raises anyway. Once I complete their training I can turn around and get certified and see what other pharmacy tech jobs there are in my area.

Don’t know why she thought I’d give a single lonely fuck about patients - I’m there for money. I think her pay should be cut every time she makes a stupid decision, but making somebody work for no money is called something else. It’s called multi-level marketing. -J

#retail #pharmacy

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forestwater87 · 3 years

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Okay, for all of you who don't feel like watching Miles RP as David

Here are some of my favorite quotes. Context may be added if I feel like it. Reactions are my goblin brain screaming. All of these came from a discord so if they don't make sense . . . see goblin brain comment.

(That link should start directly at the point where he becomes David; if it doesn't, skip to 1:40:33)

In roughly chronological order:

David: "Teachers are sort of like camp counselors during the rest of the year."

The thing is David is absolutely up his own ass enough to think this.

David: "Trail mix is expensive!"

^ said to show he understands why not everyone can donate to the charity for teachers. Very adorable, am crying.

David's "ooooh" seeing one dude was extremely non-heterosexual. Fucking bicon. Him losing his mind that one of the arenas is called "Survey camp"

David: "A person's hitting me -- I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry this is just pretend!"

This is just canonically how David plays video games. Either this or he's unwilling to commit violence at all, but I'll defer to Miles.

David: "That's very goat of you!"

Spencer: "Is David popular amongst his campers?"

David: "I like to think so! There's only 3 staff members, so I'm definitely in everyone's top 3."

"That also means you're in the bottom 3."

David: "Well, I choose not to think of it that way."

(I have to keep adding reacts so you can tell when one quote ends and another begins. Judge not lest ye be judged)

I think the other person in the stream is named Spencer. Friend of Miles. I know literally nothing else about him and am not even confident on those facts.

Every time he says something so non-David in his David voice I die: "I have a lot of grenades!"

David: "Oh my goodness, would you look at this beautiful scenery! Can we hike that mountain?"

This is so goddamn cute. I am dying. Miles looked at his fans and said "they will eat tonight" and I am so relieved.

David: "Not to be a couple of Greedy Garys, but I say we get this [care package] and then I'll drop another one!"

The fact that Miles is grinning like a lunatic the entire time is very good. (Also if this is formatted badly then I'm sorry but not all that sorry. I'm doing my best and David would be proud of me.)

David: "Didja getim? Didja getim? didja getim? How 'bout now?"

Spencer: "I didn't get 'em."

David: "Well, you tried your best and that's all that matters."

He calls healing "a little health kiss." I'm not sure why but it's very important to me.

David: [while jumping to murder someone] "Hi! Scuse me!"

(i just need something to separate the quotes okay)

David: "Well you know what gang, we did our best. You don't always win the 3-legged race. You did a wonderful job!"

Then there's a bit where they talk about Spencer's time at summer camp:

David: "ooooh hand-holding's pretty serious!"

David is too pure.

David: [dreamily] "Did you fall in love, Spencer? A summer love?" [puts hands up to his face]

Then there's the fact that David/Miles gets to pick where they play each round, and he keeps insisting on going to the one called "Survey Camp" every single time because it has the word "camp" in it.

David: "Now, I don't like to disagree, but . . . I was thinking we could go . . . to Survey Camp!"

Spencer reminds him that technically since David's the one with the power to choose, his opinion is the only one that matters:

David: "Everyone's opinion matters. And my opinion is we're going to camp."

David just steamrolling over Spencer's interests is very good. There are these little selfish nuggets sprinkled in among the wholesomeness that really capture the full David experience.

David: "Well, he's climbing up . . . he's coming my direction . . . oh, he looks scary . . ."

Spencer: "Is he coming towards me?"

David: "Oooh, I don't know. I'm dead!"

The positivity is relentless. I think Miles said on twitter afterwards that this whole thing was exhausting and I can see why. Being David is no picnic . . .

David: "I have a question: do we have to shoot each other in this game?"

And then a few seconds later:

David: "I'm just wondering if maybe there's a way we can, you know, help others. Talk through our issues."

And a few seconds after that:

David: "I was asking if they wanted to be friends in the game!"

I believe that moved killed him, too. Precious.

Also we're interrupting the real Miles!David content to share something my friend suggested to me while I was watching this and giving her quotes; she said that maybe David just calls everything camp to make life more fun, and then sent me this imaginary exchange that actually killed me all the way to death:

David: Gwen Santos would you go to marriage camp with me

Gwen: I'm going to have to change this story when I tell everyone

It made me laugh quite a bit.

Anyway, back to the video!

Spencer: "How do you sign up for [Camp Campbell]?"

David: "Well, um, you can fax, uh, an application to [email protected]. And . . . you can know that myself and Gwen and Quartermaster and sometimes Mr. Campbell will do our best to make sure they get what they need! Which more than anything is love and support. And friendship."

Spencer: "How many dollars does this camp cost?"

David: "You know . . . it is, um . . ."

And then the conversation switches subjects and David breathes a sigh of relief.

Very shortly after this he changed his character from a woman (she was wearing a yellow shirt, which he liked because the campers wear yellow shirts) to "a Forward Scout with a positive attitude!"

"I like his style."

Spencer: "Does everybody abuse David verbally?"

David: "You know, sometimes people have harsh words. Mostly Max, and Neil, and Gwen, and Quartermaster, and Nurf."

Spencer: "Did you just list almost everyone?"

David: "Mmm . . . I'd say maybe a third."

Poor David. Somebody please protect him.

Spencer: "Yeah, I think people abuse David. I get that vibe. Or at least, I feel it in my heart. Like I wanna put ants in your bunk or something."

David: "Well, I think that says more about maybe some of the hurt you're carrying with you. And sometimes when people don't know how to process that, they act out. Do you want some trail mix?"

David just said his favorite part of trail mix is the raisins which is so cute. "They have a little bit of salt on them, which isn't typical for a raisin."

And he keeps telling chatters to watch their language.

David: "Who is my favorite camper? Aww, you know I couldn't pick a favorite! . . . But I know who has the most potential, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

I KNEW IT!!!!!

I've been saying for years that David doesn't have a favorite and gravitates towards the ones he thinks need him the most AND I FINALLY GOT ONE RIGHT!

David: "Well you know, Gwen swears and that's okay."

shipping intensifies

David: [gasp] "The moss is growing on the north side of the rock!"

Every time he nerds out about weird shit in the game I gain 3 seconds to my life.

Spencer: "Did you get teabagged?"

David: "What's that?"

Spencer: "It's where somebody places their most intimate bits on you for . . . friendship."

David: [softly] "Oh, I don't know about that."

Also David confirms that the whole show has been a single summer, so please see the "vindication" gif above.

David: "I know a lot of fun camp songs."

Spencer: "Sing 3."

David: [starts singing] "Bum-bum-bumblebee, bumblebee tuna, I love bumblebee, bumblebee tuna . . ."

Spencer: "Okay, please stop. I immediately regret this decision."

David: "Max said the same thing! One of my campers. And, uh, and my co-counselor, Gwen."

He's literally made of sunshine. I would die for this fictional man.

Spencer: "Are people at camp against their will? I feel like they are."

David: "No! . . . They don't always like it immediately, but it grows on them."

Spencer: "It sounds like they're there against their will."

David: "Well I just think that's a negative way of looking at it."

FWIW Spencer makes an excellent foil to David. Not as aggressive as Max or as dour as Gwen, but he brings a very . . . like, straight-man energy to the conversation. Like how a normal person would react to David IRL. I'd enjoy seeing these two interact more.

Spencer: "It's like your overpositivity is wanting me to balance it out with negativity."

David: "You know, I feel like that dynamic's pretty popular with me."

eeeeeeee <3

And the last one that I personally found noteworthy:

David: "One day we'll be able to afford safety equipment. Until then, we'll just have to deal with Quartermaster's Ropes Course. And a lot of pillows."

There's point near the last 20 minutes where either it got kinda boring or I just got too tired to keep track. But if there are any quotes you think I missed, please share them! This was a really lovely bit of content to feed our starving maw, and I appreciate Miles very very very much for taking one for the team.

#campcamp #camp camp #cc david #roosterteeth #rooster teeth #miles luna #this isn't content #it's more like a public service #also i threw the gwenvid in like the trash goblin I am

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hyunjilicious · 4 years

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onlyfans #1 [ransom drysdale]

A/n: I’ve had this idea for a LONG time, and yesterday it wasn’t showing up in the tags, so I’m trying again today! This is part of a future pseudo-series, because I adore this concept. Also, prepare for cameos!!

Summary: So Ransom lost his inheritance. I hope the title doesn’t spoil his plan to make a living (SMUT) 3.4k

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, size kink, dirty talk, domestic submission, name calling, degradation, dub con (just in case), slight spit play, breath play, taking/selling nudes (lowkey non con here lol) Ransom is a bit of an ass.

absolutely DO NOT READ if any of the warnings mentioned above make you uncomfortable, or if you are under 18!! That being said, enjoy!!!

"Ransom!" you yelled, rummaging through the shopping bag he just left on the counter in the kitchen. "We can't afford-" you scoffed, turning a bottle of wine over in your hands. Feeling yourself fume with anger that was threatening to burst out of you at any time, you placed it back on the counter, and started looking for him around the house, "Ransom, where the fuck are you?"

"Will you stop yelling!?" you heard him groan through the wall.

Rolling your eyes and with genuine rage surging through you, you slammed the door open, so hard it hit the wall behind it. "The fuck is wrong with you? You know we're already fucking tight with money, yet you had to go and buy a $200 bottle of wine!?"

Only after the words left your mouth, did you realize what he was doing. When your eyes landed on his computer screen and you saw him playing Spider Solitaire, you felt like you were actually going to fucking hit him.

"It was the cheapest I could find" he joked, without even bothering to turn around and face you.

"I'm serious right now" you sighed, walking over and snatching his hand from the mouse, "Look at me"

And he did. He turned to look at you, with a roll of his eyes and a displeased grin on his lips, "We're doing fine, you have a good job, what the fuck do you want from me?"

"Only the president could fucking keep up with you, Ransom, I can't afford that kind of crap. If you keep that shit up, we'll both end up on the streets!"

"Don't be so dramatic, doll" he chuckled, rubbing his hand up and down your outer thigh. Grabbing a handful of your ass, he pulled you closer, "Stop worrying, we'll figure something out"

"We'd better. Because soon-"

"We will" he stopped you, grabbing even harder. His fingers sunk into your flesh, and your whole attitude changed in an instant, as you went mellow under his touch.

"Ok, then" you sighed, determined to find another way to go about this.

"Kiss me" Ransom smiled, and you obliged in an instant. He went in open mouthed, his tongue finding yours in an instant. You gave in completely, submitting to him like you always do. The way he bit into your lower lip, a tad harder than you would have considered pleasurable, made you moan softly against his lips.

"You adore me, I know" he smiled, pulling away from you. Ransom nodded towards the door, "Now go make us something to eat" he said, and then turned back to his computer, "I was busy with something"

"Busy" you mocked him, walking out of the room.

The next few hours of the day went by as usual. Ransom was hard around the edges, a difficult man to please - and god knows you had to constantly please him in order for him to accept you. But you got the hang of it, it became your routine, and you didn't mind it one bit. After having lunch, he went out to meet with a friend, while you stayed inside, making yourself busy.

When you two started getting more comfortable with one another, every now and then Ransom would insist on choosing what you wore while you were home alone with him. You loved this kink of his - he was doing it to himself, having you dress up all hot and skimpy only to have his dick get hard about 20 minutes later - it was a win-win situation. So now, still in one of the outfits he had chosen for you, and with your makeup perfectly done, you sat on the living room couch, finishing up your nails. A show about some mysterious crime that took place over 20 years ago was playing in the background, when Ransom entered the room.

"How's my favorite girl doing?" he beamed, walking over to you, blocking your view of the TV.

"She's fine" you smiled, actually surprised with how cheery he was being.

"You love me, right?"

"Of course, baby" you giggled, "So much"

"Good" Ransom said, his smile fading. "Put this on-" he added, throwing a small red paper bag into your lap, "And then come into the bedroom"

"Are you only ever nice to me when you want something?" you sighed, watching him as he walked out of the room.

"Don't be ridiculous" he laughed, "If I had to be nice every time I wanted something from you, I'd combust"

For a second, you remained dumbfounded. 'He's an asshole, but he's your asshole and you love him' you told yourself, before gathering the courage to open the bag and peak inside. Black lace. Your mouth fell open as you pulled the lingerie out - there was so little material you barely even realized how it was supposed to go. And those little patches of material? Almost completely transparent. You felt a little bit of anxiety curse though your body, but put on in nonetheless. Feeling entirely naked, you put the robe back on over the lingerie, and headed to the bedroom.

In an instant, you spotted Ransom sitting at his desk, scrolling through his phone. Once he noticed you, he pointed to the bed.

"Take that off and lay down"

Halfheartedly, you listened to him, and then padded over to the bed, wondering what you did wrong. You sat down and leaned back, watching him march up to you.

"Not like this" he said, effortlessly spinning you around to lay on your stomach. "Ass up"

Swallowing thickly, you arched your back and perched your ass up. "What's going on?" you questioned, already getting wet under his hungry stare.

"Shut up, baby" he whispered, groping your thighs and hips. "Stay like this, ok?"

You weren't going to object, but when you felt him distance himself from the bed and walk across the room, your curiosity got the best of you, "Why?"

"Told you something, pet" he threatened, "Keep that sweet little mouth of yours shut. You can do that, can't you?"

"Yeah, ok" you whined.

The anticipation was killing you. The tension between your legs was getting more and more difficult to ignore, and rubbing your thighs together proved futile. A powerful wave of eagerness washed over you when you heard Ransom walk over. You didn't even get to wonder what he was doing, before he slapped your ass hard. You gasped in surprise, but you didn't get a chance to react before he went again. Slap after slap, each growing in intensity against your sensitive skin.

The only thing that interrupted your whines were a few soft moans, as you kicked your legs and squirmed under him, "Fuck-"

"Does it hurt?" Ransom asked, spanking your ass one more time.

"Yes" you cried.

"Good, baby" he hummed, rubbing your inflamed skin. He wasn't as gentle as you wished, his touch burning all the way down to your bones.

You tried to wiggle away, but he was quick to stop you, "Daddy's not finished with you yet. It has to hurt, ok? You need to be Daddy's good little slut and take it"

"I am" you nodded.

"What are you?" he asked, his smile audible in his tone.

"Daddy's good little slut" you repeated, your own words making the pain between your legs skyrocket.

"That's right, pet. That's why you're gonna take all that Daddy has to give you, even if it hurts, yeah? Daddy always knows better than you" Ransom said.

You nodded again, bracing yourself for the impact. But it didn't come. Instead you felt him play with your ass, working strong, marron bruises into your skin. As you started to relax and get used to the feeling, he grabbed your underwear and pulled it down your thighs, leaving you completely exposed to him. "You love this, don't you, doll?"

"I do" you squealed, fisting the cotton bed sheets into your palms.

"Such a wet cunt for me" he said, tracing your opening with his pointer finger, "Practically begging for my cock, always fucking ready to be ruined"

You whined, the pressure he was applying only managing to drive you even crazier. "Please-"

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me"

"No, baby" Ransom chuckled, rubbing his hand over the curve of your ass, "Not tonight"

"But Daddy-" you began to protest, but your words were cut short by another spank, this one hitting differently.

With your skin already on fire, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to tears with every slap delivered. Unconsciously, you started to pull away from him, but that didn't stop him in any way. Ransom kept going until he felt you'd had enough, only then stopping. "Good girl" he spoke, leaning down to kiss the skin he had just abused, "You take it so well, baby. You're a gem"

"Thank you, daddy" you moaned, shuffling around the bed. You wanted to wrap your arms around him, but he stopped you again.

"On your knees, baby, c'mon" he commanded, pointing to the fluffy red carpet next to the bed. "Daddy deserves to have his cock sucked, doll, so get to it"

Without even thinking twice, you jumped off the bed and sunk to your knees, hands on his thighs as you looked up at him.

"Always so hungry for my cock" he shook his head, lacing his fingers through your hair, "I'm gonna record you, angel, but don't freak out. Just suck my dick like you do everyday, yeah?"

"Ok"

"And take that bra off, I wanna see your tits"

You obliged in an instant, heart beating out of your chest. When he pulled out his phone and pointed the camera down at your face, you gulped, but then nodded eagerly, big doe eyes trained up at him. Ransom didn't wait any longer before he shuffled out of his jeans, his massive, already hard cock springing out.

Although slightly anxious about having a phone pointed at you, you fought to not let it bother you. Rubbing your hands up and down his length a few times, you looked up at him, licking your lips.

"Open that whore mouth for me, yeah?" Ransom commanded.

As soon as you followed his order, he bent down, spitting on your tongue. With your eyes locked onto the camera, you swallowed and then opened your mouth again.

"Want more, huh?" he laughed, playing with your hair.

"Yes, please!"

"How about you throat my cock first, and then we'll see if you deserve it?"

Without even giving him any kind of approval, you went in, bringing the tip of his cock into your mouth. You sucked wholeheartedly, hollowing your cheeks around his massive member. Bopping your head up and down, you closed your eyes, enjoying the feel of his tip against your tongue. When you felt yourself prepared enough, you pushed yourself further along his cock, allowing it to brush past the back of your throat. Your gag reflex instantly kicked in, but you fought it, remaining in place.

"That's right, angel-" Ransom grunted, gripping the roots at the top of your head into his hand.

Feeling your oxygen supply run low, you wanted to pull away, but he wasn't having it. He easily controlled your movements, pushing his cock even further down your throat.

"Angel-" he panted, as you struggled against his hold, "You were made to be face fucked"

You had your arms wrapped around his strong thighs, your manicured nails sinking into his skin, hoping you'd get his attention. It didn't work.

By the time he let you go, you had tears running down your cheeks, your mascara almost reaching your chin. You fell backwards, desperate for a breath of air.

"You look better with your makeup like this, love" Ransome laughed, wiping your tears with the back of his fingers, "Suits you"

After regaining your composure, you pushed yourself back up, getting ready to resume your work. However, Ransom had other ideas as he grabbed his member, slowly pumping it in his own hand.

"Tongue out, slut" he said.

You listened to him, and felt a rush of ecstasy course through you when he slapped his cock against your tongue and then your cheeks. His tip was already leaking precum, and you swallowed obediently every drop that landed inside your mouth.

"You want it back?" he asked, grinning.

"Yes"

"Balls first, baby"

Bracing yourself against his thighs, you leaned forward, connecting your lips to the soft skin of his balls. You sucked deeply, applying the kind of pressure you knew would drive him crazy. "Fuck, fuck, yes, come on-" he grunted, bucking his hips into you.

You were nowhere near done when he grabbed your hair again and manhandled you to take his cock down your throat. Your frame fell limply under his hold, as you forced yourself to relax and obey him for as long as you could.

"That’s right-" he moaned, "don't fight it. You know that's my favorite thing about you? The way you worship my dick, you fucking slut"

As he spoke, he forced you deeper down his cock. No matter how hard you tried to resist, you couldn't help but start to squirm around, trying to push him away.

"Don't be a fucking bitch, Y/n" Ransom huffed, keeping you in place, as your throat muscles constricted around his tip, "Just fucking take it"

With a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face, you slapped his thighs frantically, until he finally allowed you to breathe again.

"I'm so fucking close, baby" he grinned, as you panted your lungs away. "Look up at me, I wanna see those that dumb look in your eyes whenever you take my cock"

Mouth agape as you still worked on regulating your breathing, you looked up, right into the camera. "That's it! Yeah, that's my slut, I can see it in your eyes, baby"

If it were up to you, you would have waited more. But Ransom was having none of that. Instead, he grabbed your hair again, this time controlling your movements completely. He forced your mouth along his cock, bopping your head up and down until his hips started shaking and he couldn't take it anymore. Proud with yourself for getting through this without panicking, you leaned back and opened your mouth.

Ransom's grunts and pleasure filled moans filled the room, as his cum started shooting out of his cock. Little droplets ended up inside your mouth and on your lips, and maybe intentionally or by mistake, he shot a few pumps on your cheeks and in your hair. But you remained there, motionless, waiting for his next move.

With the phone still pointed at you, Random used his thumb to gather all the cum you had missed, before shoving his finger into your mouth.

"Always eager to suck on something, aren't you?"

You proudly nodded.

After that he threw his phone on the bed, and helped you up. He instantly went in for a kiss, his arms wrapping around your body to play with your ass while his tongue dominated yours. He owned you completely.

"Go run a bath, baby" Ransom said, slapping your ass, "I'll be right there"

"But.." you hesitated, "What about me?"

"What about you?" he asked, cluelessly.

"I didn't finish…"

"It's early, love" he smiled, kissing your forehead, "Let's take a bath now, and then daddy will take really good care of you, yeah?"

And he did. He kept his word. You jumped in the bathtub about 5 minutes later, settling between his legs. He held you in his arms, kissing all along the curve of your neck, playing with your breasts as he kept telling you about his plan to take over his grandfather's company.

Eventually, with you being your needy self, he had you straddle his hips, as he sunk his cock into your pussy. You went limp against his chest, your pussy every now and then clenching around him as he tickled your sides and played with your ass. When the water started to get cold, all it took for you to finish were a few simple rolls of your hips, Ransom following closely behind, much to your surprise.

That night, he didn't ask you to cook anything for him, instead just ordering and sharing a pizza. As you waited for it to be delivered, Ransom ate your pussy into oblivion on the kitchen table, joking about how your cunt was the most delicious thing to ever touch that surface.

The following days went by similarly. He was always down to get dirty, but the one thing that was different now was his constant need to film you. With time you got perfectly comfortable with it, putting on a show for him with every chance you got. It was just a matter of time until you barely even noticed it.

One day, as you ran your usual errands, when you stopped by the bank, something caught your eye. You instantly requested the balance, and you almost dropped the piece of paper when you read the numbers. You paid the cashier a polite goodbye, and stormed out of the bank, your phone glued to your ear.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up!!"

But he didn't.

You rushed home, palms sweaty against the steering wheel. God, you hoped it wasn't what it seemed. What troubled you the most, was that you weren’t even 100% mad. There was some other kind of emotion there, but you pushed it aside. As soon as you reached your house, you stormed inside, bursting into Ransom's office without bothering to knock first.

And this time, you caught it. For a split second, you managed to see the video open on his computer, before he switched the tab back to Spider Solitaire.

"You fucking asshole!" you yelled, slamming the piece of paper against his chest, "You sick fuck! You thought I wouldn't notice?"

"Come on, baby" Ransom chuckled, way too relaxed for how enraged you were. He spun his chair around to face you, extending his hand to grab yours, "Relax, I only-"

"You only what?" you interrupted him, "Sold my nudes? Are you insane?"

"Don't talk to me like that-" he threatened, leaning his head to the side, "You know I don't appreciate it"

"And I don't apreciate you posting my sex tapes on the Internet!"

He grinned, "That’s not the same thing"

"Yeah!" you scoffed, throwing your arms into the air, "What you did is so much worse!"

"Careful there, baby" he shook his head.

You wanted to protest again, but he stood up. Ransom took a menacing step towards you, towering over your small frame, the fire in your attitude instantly dying down.

"You don't get to talk to me like that-" he whispered, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, "But I'll let it slide this time, doll, because that's exactly why I didn't tell you earlier. Wanted to see you panick a bit"

"Ransom…" you whined, "You should've asked"

He shook his head no, "You know I never ask, I just take. You should've considered this when you decided to be mine"

"I would have been into it, but I still wished you had told me" you said softly, too shy now to even look into his eyes.

"We talked about this, you're mine, I make the calls, not you"

"I know, Ransom, but-" you whined, but he grabbed your cheeks between his hands and stopped you.

"But what?"

You blinked a few times, "But nothing, I'm sorry I yelled, you're right"

"Of course I am" he chuckled, kissing your forehead, "See what happens when you worry, baby? Just be a good little girl and do what you're told without whining and bitching around, and everyone will be happy. We don't have to fight if you listen to me"

"I love you" you pouted, pressing yourself against his chest.

"Love you too, pet" he responded, slapping your ass a few times.

As things finally calmed down, you decided to go change and then return to Ransom's office so he could show you how the page was doing. Just when you were about to walk out the door, he called after you. "Oh, and Y/n?"

"Yes?"

"Love, some of the ideas I've gotten over the past few days where actually requests from our subscribers. Today will be fine, nothing new, but tomorrow we have a threesome. Some dude, Lee Bodecker, handsome guy, make yourself pretty, you'll love him!"

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale x reader #dark!ransom x reader #dark!ransom #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale smut #ranson drysdale fic #ransom thrombey x you #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader

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echo-hiraeth · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1: Noise

Part of the “Illicit Limerence” series.

Pairing: Javier Peña (towards the end of season one) x F!Reader

Summary: The reader and Javier find themselves in his bed more and more often, but when the reader decides to confront her emotions and put a halt to their meetings, everything seems to just go more and more south.

Warnings: swearing, violence, mention of vomiting and sickness, angst, smut 18+

Masterlist

Next chapter

“Leaving so soon?”, he questioned, sheets barely covering his naked figure.

You looked over your shoulder as you zipped up your pencil skirt. “I’d rather not have Murphy see me walk out of here”, you muttered, stuffing your blouse into the waistband.

He chuckled lowly, sitting up to press a series of kisses to the back of your neck. “Murphy is a blind hillbilly, princesa, just stay a little while longer”, he cooed, gently sucking on the sensitive skin of your throat.

Despite wanting to give in to his sweet promises and lustful words, you knew better. This was just the type of man he was, purely driven by sex and his own libido. So you took a deep breath and shied away from his sinful touches. “I’ll see you at the office Peña”, you sighed, gathering your purse from the floor and heading for the front door.

You could hear him mumbling something and getting up, his heavy footsteps trailing after you until you ultimately pulled the door shut behind you, catching a glimpse of him. For two months now you’d been sleeping together, two blissfully delicious months wrapped up in Javier’s arms. But it was wrong, so fucking wrong in so many different ways. The two of you were partners for fuck’s sake and if the embassy would find out, Messina would have your heads. And then there was Steve, sweet agent Murphy, one of your closest friends ever since the academy, who begged and pleaded for you not to engage with his partner, for fear that he would win you over, which is – of course – exactly what happened. But it was just sex – right? Yes, just pure physical relief, a man and a woman just fucking the pains of their job away, nothing else. At least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of, Javier Peña was a registered asshole and heartbreaker, but you’d come to know him for his softer interior, his caring side.

The walk of shame from his apartment to your car was one you knew quite well at this point, hair dishevelled, panties either soaked or gone and feelings just an utter complicated mess. You just prayed that nobody would ever see you, the impending shame of being known as one of his many hook-ups just anxiety-inducing by itself. So your drive home was filled with silent music and regret, as per usual.

A short three hour nap and a quick shower were all you could afford on these kind of nights, knowing fully well you had to show up to work the next morning, early and bright. It was getting more and more difficult for you to keep seeing him and you knew you couldn’t keep seeing him. While you were showering you thought of how you could tell him, but nothing seemed good enough and it led to what you could only identify as a nauseating feeling in your lower gut.

This was going to be a long day.

“Mornin’”, Steve smiled at you, setting a cup of coffee and a sandwich down in front of you.

You felt your stomach turn and swiftly slid the coffee away from you. “What have you got for me today Murph?”

“Aha, a day out in the field”, he announced, sipping from the mug you’d rejected. “A stake out for the three of us and later on a meetup with Carillo and his men.”

Steve chuckled as you chowed down on the sandwich, as if you’d been starved for days. You didn’t even bother to swallow your bite as you spoke: “Mm-where’s Peña?”

Your friend shook his head slowly, wiping some sauce from the corner of your mouth. “Probably still busy with last night’s girl.” You choked, Steve quickly moving to pat you on the back. “Slow down partner, there’s plenty more in the kitchen.”

As you swallowed the last bit of your breakfast Javier walked into the small office space, mumbling something to Steve before plopping down in his chair, lazily lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. You quickly got up off your chair, not wanting to face him right now and muttered something about getting another sandwich.

The short walk to the office kitchen had managed to ease your nerves the slightest bit, just enough for you to walk back with your head held up high and pretend as if nothing was the matter. By the time you came back Steve had filled Javi in and the two of them stood there waiting for you with their jackets on.

A few minutes later you were sat in the backseat of the SUV, directly behind Steve as you read over some reports, Javier’s eyes catching yours in the rear view mirror every so often. You cursed the Colombian roads, feeling more and more sick with every bump the car hit. When the car finally came to a halt you let out a sigh of relief, your forehead glistening with sweat. Steve threw you a worried look, quirking his eyebrow as if to ask you if you were alright. You quickly nodded and smiled, assuring him you were okay, before stepping out of the vehicle to stretch your legs.

“Y/n”, an all-too-familiar voice sounded, a hand finding its way onto your shoulder, “is everything alright?”

You shrugged his hand off of you, crossing your arms over your chest you sighed: “I’m fine Javier. Let’s get back in the car, Pablo’s rats should be here soon.”

“Did something happen last night? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“We need to stop seeing each other, I can’t do this anymore”, you let out in one breath, voice surprisingly calm.

He shuffled on his feet, hands resting on his hips as he gaped at you. “I’m not sure I understand, did I say something wrong?”

You scoffed before spinning on your heels, quickly walking back over to the car. There was no way you were giving him the option to get you alone again today, the awkwardness of it all just too much. So you joined Steve in the front seat, eyes burning with the effort of trying to contain your emotions.

It was safe to say that this particular stake out and day in general was the worst you’d had the displeasure of experiencing while being in Colombia. You could feel his eyes on you the entire time and when you told Steve you weren’t feeling well and went home early, it had taken everything within him not to follow you right there and then.

As soon as the door of your tiny apartment fell into the lock you broke down into tears, feeling completely overwhelmed. This had hit you harder than you liked to admit, coming to realise that your feelings towards the cold man were more severe than you’d expected. Work was going to be nothing short of awkward and emotionally draining but you’d rather spend your time avoiding Javier there, then just thinking and overthinking in bed or on the couch. You’d decided to give yourself the leeway to get over yourself, calling in sick for the next four days, until the weekend. It wasn’t entirely untrue, you experienced some odd nausea and intense headaches, making you stay away from any and all liquor, an otherwise very efficient yet unhealthy coping mechanism.

Everything had been calm aside from Steve and Connie calling in every so often to check up. You’d lied to them about having a really bad cold, spiking fever, that kind of thing and had advised them to stay faaaar away. It wasn’t until Saturday night, when you heard a knock at your door that you were disrupted from your repose. Assuming it to be one of the two or maybe that one neighbour that always needed something you opened up the door without checking.

When your eyes met Javier’s you sighed, going to close the door. He quickly jammed his foot between it, pushing it back open with his arm. “Can we just fucking talk?”, he asked, clearly annoyed with your attitude towards the entire situation.

“Fine, ten minutes, nothing more, I want to go to bed”, you said with an unsteady voice.

He let himself in, wrapping his arms around you when the door closed shut. “Preciosa, I miss you..”

You pressed your nose into the collar of his shirt, indulging in the hypnotising scent of his cologne and cigarettes. “I-I do too, but this- we can’t Javi..”

“And why not, nobody has to know hermosa, it could just be you and me”, he purred, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your jaw. You let out a soft sob, making him stop abruptly. “What’s wrong, are you hurt?”

“Please just leave Javi, don’t make it more difficult then it already is”, you pleaded quietly, averting his worried eyes.

Javier’s face was contorted with frustration, he was upset with himself for hurting you like this. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave.” He pressed a gentle, loving kiss to your lips, nose softly rubbing against yours.

You eagerly kissed him back, the tears streaming down your face. Your hands soon found their way to their jacket, in an attempt to slide it off of his broad shoulders. He quickly grabbed onto your wrists stopping you. “Let me take care of you, por favor.”

A shy and hesitant nod was all he needed before you were led into your bedroom. He gently stripped you of your clothes, kissing every new exposed body part before moving on to the next. The sheer tenderness in his touches and words set your afire with unspoken love and need. Your fingers made quick work of his belt and buttons, haphazardly shoving his dark jeans down his thighs. Javier grunted as he picked you up, tossing you onto the bed, face down, tonight wasn’t about romance, it was about release, catharsis.

He grabbed onto your hips, perking your ass up, giving him easy access. Mesmerized as per usual, he watched the way your back curved when he lined himself up, a small gasp finding its way out of your throat when he teasingly rubbed the head against your clit. He stuttered out something along the lines of an apology before harshly thrusting into you, showing absolutely no mercy as he bottomed himself out. Your response consisted of a high pitched cry and obnoxious breathing, the pain and pleasure merging, making your mind go completely blank.

His fingers squeezed the supple flesh of your round hips, making him groan even louder, your body’s reactions to him turning him on all the more. The sheer force of his strokes told you everything you needed to know, he was livid. Javier was outraged about a plethora of things, the cartel, his actions, his lack of words but most of all you. Fuck – it wasn’t supposed to end like this, you were just another body to him, that’s what you were supposed to be, but he found himself concerned for you, he found himself wanting to check up on you, and something about that set him off. You’d promised him relief and all you ended up being was more trouble, more noise in his head. So, he’d wanted to take it out on you and that was exactly what he was doing.

The sound of his hips smacking against yours was therapeutic, your moans and mewls the ego boost he’d needed. With another hard thrusts he suddenly pulled out, jerking himself off as he came all over your lower back. He closed his eyes, catching his breath, before looking at you, panting on the bed, face hidden within the safety of your pillow. Good.

He quickly hoisted his jeans back up and fastened the button before throwing his shirt over his head. The man didn’t even bother to look at you as he threw a towel at you, ordering you to clean yourself up. You were right, you couldn’t do this anymore, tonight had been the last time, a goodbye. All he could think about as you sat there, breasts heaving up and down in time with your sobs, was how much he hated himself. He figured he was doing you a favour by distancing himself, but really it was a selfish thing, the cold and closed-off agent had vowed long ago that lovers and friends were just more loose ends for the cartel to catch onto, and he would never forgive himself if somebody would be hurt – even killed – in his name.

“You’re a monster”, you spat out, using the filthy towel to cover your body.

“I’m aware”, he replied lacing his shoes.

You disappeared into your bathroom, creating the necessary distance between the two of you, as you cried your eyes out. The need to hold and comfort you was there, but deep inside he knew that it – he would never be enough. So he left, the sounds of your sobs and sniffles ringing in his ears.

You spent the rest of your weekend watching stupid telenovelas and binge-eating, your hunger and cravings seemingly insatiable. Well it wasn’t like Javier would be showing up anytime soon, so there was no reason why you couldn’t let go and indulge in some sugar and fat. Tomorrow you’d be going back to work and seeing his stupidly handsome face until the end of your shift. At this point you’d rather spend the day doing paperwork and get patronised and hit on by the stuck-up men at the office all day.

Despite only having to start at noon, work had never been more stressful. Your heart rate picking up more and more with every step towards the shared office space. You stopped breathing when you saw him sitting there, sucking on the end of his cigarette, comfortably reading over some document. Steve smiled at you, winking in the direction of your desk where he’d left you a lunch bag of some sorts. You opened the glass door and walked over to your desk, returning his smile before looking inside of the brown bag.

“Connie figured you’d want some good food”, he smirked, pointing at the baked goods.

You quietly chuckled, quickly reading over the note she’d left you. “I should get sick more often, Connie’s muffins are just fucking heaven.” You sank your teeth into the treat, humming at the taste, making Steve laugh boyishly.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed it, because today’s gonna be a long one partner.”

Steve hadn’t exaggerated, the first two hours of your workday were spent discussing and arguing with the officials about a plan of approach concerning the recent tragedy. One of Pablo’s men had bombed a commercial flight and the news had shaken the nation, leaving everyone astonished. The meeting had however been cut short by Carillo, informing you all that there was mention of new leads and potential arrests. Messina had excused the three of you and soon you were back in the car, only this time Steve was going along with Carillo, leaving you and Javi alone.

The vehicle was filled with unsaid words and a loaded tension as the two of you drove in silence. You looked out of your window trying to avoid Javier, but most of all, trying to deny the bile rising in your throat. The Columbian roads and heavy lunch hadn’t been the best combination and soon you gripped onto the handle of the door, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Pull over.”

He scoffed at you, shaking his head in disbelief. “We’re adults y/l/n surely you can-“

“I will fucking puke on you if you don’t”, you gritted out.

Your “threat” had come through to him, making him swerve the car to the side of the road, barely stopped before you stumbled out of the car, falling onto your knees as you emptied out your stomach. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to decide what to do until he finally got out of the car and stood beside you. His gaze was fixed in front of his as he held your ponytail back for you. By the time the puking had stopped long enough for you to take a decent breath you were a shaking and shivering mess. Javier gently helped you up, leaning you against the car as he grabbed something out of the trunk. He handed you a bottle of water and a shirt, which you used to wipe your sweaty forehead and eventually the corners of your mouth.

“You sick?”, he asked, looking you up and down.

You ran a shaky hand across your face, legs starting to give out from underneath you. Javier swiftly caught you, helping you onto the passenger’s seat. “I- just give me a minute”, you exhaled.

“I’m calling back-up, you need to get back to the office.”

“Javier please, I’m fine, I just ate something bad”, you interjected, leaning your heavy-head against the car seat’s headrest.

He sighed deeply before closing your door and getting in on the other side. The rest of the drive was equally silent as the first part had been, only now Javier’s gut was burning with worry and guilt. He tried to keep it cool as he snuck a peak at you every other minute, just wanting to make sure you were still alive and breathing. As you arrived at the meetup spot he slowly parked the car before looking at you. “I don’t want you in there when you’re like.. this.”

“Unfortunately”, you sassed while getting out of the car and grabbing a tactical vest from the trunk, “that’s not your call, agent Peña.”

You soon joined Steve and Carillo where they stood, fastening the various buckles and straps on your vest before slipping your gun into the pocket in the front. “Ah agent y/l/n, un placer verlo”, (a pleasure to see you) he smirked as he shook your hand.

“¿Cuál es el plan, Horacio? (What‘s the plan).

Steve jutted on his hip, his knowledge of Spanish, or lack thereof making him feel alienated from the conversation. “English fuckers.”

As the colonel filled you all in you felt Javier tug on your vest, making you lose your footing. “What the-“

“If you’re going to be an idiot and go in there then at least make sure your fucking vest is properly tied”, he sneered as he fastened another buckle.

One minute you were bickering with your ex-lover and the next you were creeping up an alleyway with him, approaching the backdoor of the building. Before you could get there the door swung open, a set of two narco-men storming out, wielding guns of their own. Alas, the chase had started, leaving you and your partner to run after them. The two of you split up as they entered another building, with you heading inside as well, carefully scouting the area for any one of them.

As you saw one of them hurrying towards the back entrance you ran after him, clearing the steps and almost losing your footing in your hurry. Javi was nowhere to be seen as you chased after the man, who disappeared into yet another building. You followed once more, creeping up the stairs with your weapon held high, ready to shoot on sight. It was quiet, the man seemingly vanished. When you heard a scream outside you whipped your head to the side, lowering your gun for just a second when the man came into view again, firing two rounds into your chest. Luckily your vest absorbed most of the damage, but the impact had you stumbling backwards, toppling out of the second story window, landing onto the hot concrete with a yelp of pain and a loud thud. Whether it was the pain or daylight blinding you, you hadn’t a clue, it really didn’t matter, because soon you were out cold in the middle of the street, causing a whole new commotion.

#javier peña #narcos #imagine #pedro pascal #javier peña x reader #illicit limerence

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txemrn · 3 years

Text

The Missionary's Daughter

Ch. 1: "Meant to Live"

Need to catch up? Prologue: "It's Over"

Chapter Song Inspo: "Meant to Live" by Switchfoot

Series Song Inspo: "Changed by You" by Between the Trees

Pairings: Drake Walker x OC (Margot Hughes); Liam Rys x Riley Brooks

Series Warning: 🛑 for mature audiences only (🔞); series contains angst, language, NSFW🍋 material; trigger warning: heavy discussion/depiction of drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, religion, mental health; please be advised and exercise discretion

A/N: When I say that this took a village, it would be the understatement of the century! Huuuuuuuuge thank you to all of my amazing sweet writing sisters that encouraged me and helped me pull this together, but especially to @charlotteg234 for brainstorming and mapping this out with me, @kat-tia801 for doing the same, but then having to deal with me incessantly asking, "Does this sound right?" and @chemist-ana FOR GIFITNG ME MY FREAKING AMAZING MOODBOARD! It's SO beautiful, and it literally puts me in the mood to write about my Druggy Drake and Margot! Thank you so, so much, friend! Most of the characters and some of the plot belong to our friends at Pixelberry.

A palpable crackle ignites the sterile air of the staff locker room. To say she was ‘nervous’ is a painfully severe understatement to the jitters that spark from her fingertips. But, rather than dance chaotically like cut wires on pavement, she is lightning, mesmerizing, lighting up the sky with excitement and power.

***

Dressing for another Monday morning at her weekly volunteer job at the prestigious Cordonia Family OB/GYN, Margot Hughes swiftly shimmies a monogrammed ceil blue scrub top down her curves. Pulling her brilliant strands of autumn harvest into a high bun, she slips on her work clogs while nudging her locker closed with her knee.

Before leaving the changing area, she catches her visage in the mirror, the unflattering fluorescent lights casting more shadows onto her worried features. She can feel the rumble of her rapid heartbeat echoing in her ears; her chest constricts tightly as her breathing becomes shallow. Her eyes begin to sting with fear as the whites burn red, threatening with a glaze of tears.

Today is the day her entire life will change; everything she has ever wanted, everything that she has ever worked for will suddenly determine the course of her future in a single moment. Seeing the all-too-familiar terror in her eyes, Margot flutters her eyelids shut. Her fingers nervously trace along a simple chain around her neck until they finally grasp tightly to a dainty sterling silver charm: a cross.

“Take my anxieties, Lord,” she whispers with prayerful conviction, her sparkling blue eyes gracefully opening to look at her necklace. She exhales deeply. “Your will be done.” Margot stares at her reflection for a few more moments, focusing on her breathing to calm her restless heart. “You are strong, Margot. You've got this,” she affirms herself in a hushed tone, a bright smile breaking across her face. “This is your day--" suddenly overwhelmed with peace, a joyous smile paints across her face. Chuckling to herself, she glances upwards: “I'm counting on You.” Taking a deep cleansing breath, she eagerly exits the stillness of her thoughts, and joins the bustle of the morning's clinic appointments. Today is her day.

***

Halos of blurred auras bleach his vision as Drake cautiously opens one blood-shot eye. His tongue sticks to the roof of his roughly parched mouth as he massages his pained forehead. Clueless of what day it is--much less what he did last night--he is greeted with a sudden glorious sensation: a supple wet mouth on his hardened morning length.

His body relaxes back onto the dampened, disheveled sheets of his bed; he releases a pleasurable exhale as he blindly reaches for the head behind the lips. He strains to focus his view, but can only make out a foggy shape of a nude woman with long, tousled brunette waves.

It’s her. His love.

Drake smiles; delicately tangling his grip in her strands, he admires how even the afternoon sun catches her beauty perfectly. He quietly smacks his lips. He can still smell her on his stubble; he can still taste her on his tongue.

Had she told Liam? Were they celebrating that they could finally be together?

As she takes in the head of his girth, he arches his back, relaxing his body into her hungry touch. Closing his eyes, he offers a guttural groan deep in his chest as she swirls her tongue around his firm thickness.

“God, you’re incredible, Riley--”

---

Pulling out a pen, Margot reaches across the counter to grab a patient’s clipboard--that is until Iris, the front desk manager grips her long, manicured nails to the other side of the particle wood. “Miss Mary-Margaret,” she leans in conspiratorially, lowering her voice, “do we know anything yet?” Margot chuckles, shaking her head. “Child, you better come find me the moment you know!”

“Only if you promise to start calling me ‘Margot’” the young blonde jests, opening her client’s chart.

“How about I start calling you what we’ll all be calling you in just a few short years: ‘doctor’?” Rosy pink swirls splash across Margot’s face, warming her cheeks to the touch. She bows her head coyly at the mention of her dream becoming a reality. The thought that she will soon find out if a medical career is in her future makes the twenty-one-year-old’s heart leap with unbridled excitement.

For as long as she can remember, Margot has had a strong desire to serve and help other people. Much of that selfless attitude was instilled into her heart by her own parents. They were called to be Christian missionaries when Margot was only eight years old. After much planning, church fund-raising, and prayer, Roy and Mary Hughes left their comfortable home of Lafayette, Louisiana, and settled in the small Mediterranean country of Cordonia.

Many of their friends and family were shocked that the church would send them to such a beautiful area of the world. Typically missionaries humble themselves to serve the needy, the homeless, the lonely and the sick. They sacrifice the luxuries of home for the sake of loving humanity. They help people in war-torn countries, third-world countries, countries that don’t have electricity or running water. But, this country?

Cordonia itself is a lavish nation, rich in heritage and traditions. And funds. Thanks to the ideal weather conditions, the fruitful soil produces bountiful harvests and exquisite supplies for fine textiles that remain in high demand throughout the world. The Cordonian government, a monarchy, discovered a new opportunity to expand their wealth in the late 19th century: costly tariffs to international investors. Within the first ten years of increasing the taxes on exports, the national treasury was not only in the black, but their funds had exponentially increased every year. Farms were flourishing as the working class became larger, stronger.

But, the treasury began to dwindle quickly due to the extravagant demands of the royals. For the first time in the country's history, commoners were wealthier than some of the nobility. Disdain from the upper class quickly ensued until finally, in the early 20th century under the rule of William I, a new tax law was implemented to all of Cordonia: anyone involved with international exchange would have to pay into the treasury to handle such business.

Unfortunately, there were no limitations to this new tax law, and many farms floundered, property ownership being seized by the government. Families were uprooted; jobs were lost, and worse, assets were sold for even more money, filling the pockets of the greedy leaders. The people that once had a plethora of goods at their fingertips were now starving and unsheltered. And vengeful. The Cordonians were outraged by the gouging, many of them forming violent riots, banding together with outside influencers in hopes of overthrowing the government.

On the cusp of a civil war, King William I decided to rezone the country, providing a place for the displaced working class to claim safety and sanctuary, a place that would offer shelter, education, and more affordable options for goods. To appease the people even more, he named the project ‘the Core,’ paying homage to their greatest export, the Cordonian Ruby. It was also a way for him to forever express his gratitude for such a fruitful nation: they were the core reason the nation was thriving so richly.

Like many government-assisted programs, it didn’t take long for the cracks to show in the infrastructure. And with funding cuts over the years, the Core began to crumble, striking a sharp contrast from the rest of Cordonia. The Core, now often referred to as ‘the slums’, have become a breeding ground for crime, drugs, and prostitution. It is the blemish of Cordonia, its existence often not acknowledged amongst the elite.

But, according to the Hughes, ‘God saw the need’. They were sent to serve in the slums of Cordonia, starting up several free programs, including a nightly soup kitchen, afterschool programs to keep children out of trouble, and trade classes to help adults out of poverty. The people accepted the help and adapted quickly to the missionaries; but even more importantly, they embraced these Americans as their own, many of them forming important and lasting relationships with the Hughes.

But, still there was something missing, something that burdened the missionary’s oldest daughter: healthcare. Having good health and access to a doctor is still treated as a privilege in Cordonia, and time and time again, the curable were disabled or buried. A change needed to take place. And Margot, although unsure of how, knew she would devote her life in making it happen for the Cordonian people.

As she makes a few notes on her clipboard, an olive-complected arm stealthily reaches around Margot, gracefully grazing her sun-kissed skin before gently placing a cup of piping hot black coffee in front of her. Staring at the hand, she instantly knows who it is. And she titters, playfully rolling her eyes. “Tadd! Another coffee?” She grabs the coffee, twirling on the ball of her foot to face the clinic’s young ultrasound technician. "My tab must be over a hundred euros by now!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that," he chuckles, rocking on his feet. “Plus, I figured with your new gig at Bríki--” he jovially shrugs his shoulders.

“You figured what?” Margot playfully punches his shoulder. “That I could sneak you free coffee?” She gives a mischievous smile, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think Mr. Pavlis would appreciate me offering free drinks, especially since I haven’t even started yet--”

“That’s right!” Tadd eyes widen. “Today’s the day--!”

“As if I didn’t already have enough to be nervous about today,” Margot’s voice becomes shaky, as she clenches her teeth in a forced smile.

“Hey,” Tadd’s voice turns into an endearing whisper. He shifts his head until his piercing jade eyes meet Margot’s baby blues. “You have nothing to worry about. We both know you did well on that American doctor test--"

"The MCAT," Margot stifles a laugh, rolling her eyes into an appreciative grin.

"Whatever," a crooked smile grows across Tadd's handsome features. "And as far as the coffee shop, you're a fast learner. And a hard worker. Plus, if they see what we all see in you--" he sighs, his gaze never breaking free from hers, "-- they're going to love you."

Margot looks down at her feet, hugging her clipboard tightly to her chest. Feeling her palms begin to sweat, she coyly looks back up at her dear friend. "Thanks, Tadd."

After a few silent moments of staring at each other, Tadd clears his throat. "So, um--" he starts, "have you heard anything yet? About the test?" Tadd changes the subject. Margot shakes her head as she takes a pull from her coffee. "Well, when you do, um, maybe we could, I mean, I thought we could--"

Suddenly an intercom buzzes overhead. "Thaddeus to exam room four. Thaddeus to exam room four."

Tadd furrows his eyebrows, looking to the ceiling before resting a kind half-smile back on Margot. "Duty calls," he nervously sighs as he bounds down the hallway. Halfway down the corridor, he spins around to face Margot. "Hey, um, come find me! Before you leave at noon!" He finger-guns the air before returning to his pursuit.

Margot awkwardly finger-guns him back before smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Seriously, Margot?" she mutters to herself, turning her attention back to the central desk of the clinic; however, she realizes quickly that the attention is all on her.

"When are you two going to make it official, Miss Mary-Margaret?" Iris chokes in the midst of her belly laughs, nodding with other scrub-adorned coworkers.

Biting her bottom lip feeling her heart flutter, Margot straightens out her demeanor, becoming stoic. "I--I don't know what you're talking about--"

"Margot, isn't it obvious?" Chimes in a jolly intake nurse. "That boy loves you--!"

"Who? Tadd?" Margot feigns innocence. She fixes her attention to the chart as she scribbles down more notes. "It's not like that--I mean, we're not, um--" she sighs. "We're just friends--" An instant roar of laughter abrupts from the reception desk, making it impossible for Margot to hide her toothy-smile paired with her scrunched up nose.

"You say that now, baby girl--"

"That's right," chimes in another giggling co-worker, "friends for now!"

An older plump nurse places a tender hand on Margot’s hand, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Some of the best relationships come from friendships, moró. Give it time. Let the love grow," she winks at Margot.

Margot fidgets with her pen, delicately licking her bottom lip. She then tries to form words with her mouth, but no sound is heard. Her pink cheeks reveal she is flustered. She quickly closes up the chart, pushing loose hairs behind her ear. "Have a good day, ladies."

Hearing the squeals of her coworkers diminishing behind her, Margot quickly escapes into an empty exam room. Closing the door behind her, she leans against it, looking up at the textured ceiling tiles. She can feel the butterflies in her stomach bouncing through to her heart as her legs wiggle with weakness like gelatin.

The idea of 'falling in love' excites Margot, an idea she has dreamed about ever since she saw Baby meet Johnny. But, so far in her young life, she has never experienced it first hand, let alone a romantic hand- hold. Was this love? All she knew for sure was today was not the day to figure it out.

***

As soon as Riley’s name escapes his breathless moans of ecstasy, a searing sharp pain instantly ignites around his hardened girth. And Drake sees red.

"Fuck!" He lets out a guttural roar until no sound comes out of his mouth. He gnashes his teeth, trying to breathe through the agony, but only froths at the corners of his lips. The veins in his neck and his forehead protrude violently as streams of tears roll down his face. Petrified to move, his face turns a deep ruddy color. Before turning violet.

A sudden sensation of relief washes over him as the stabbing sensation fades to throbbing. Drake nervously looks down at his softening cock, relieved to see his member in one piece. "Goddamnit, Brooks," he pants furiously, "you fucking bit me--"

The brunette quickly tosses her curls out of her eyesight right before her fist meets Drake's jaw. "Oh, shit!" The cracking of the joints in his face echoes around the room. Drake starts to gently massage his chin. "You're not Riley--"

She climbs off of his body, standing her naked body in front of him. "No shit, Sherlock!" She slinks her short black spaghetti-strap dress over her dangerous curves before hastily grabbing her clear platform heels and racing out the door. "Fuck you, Drake Walker!"

***

A heartless, cocky laugh pours over the phone speaker. "Shit, Walker. Just--" the baritone voice trails back into a fit of laughter.

"It's not funny, Leo--" Drake warns, accidentally shifting his weight in bed, stirring a soreness to his recent injuries. "Ow!” he sucks air quickly between his gritted teeth, “fuck!" he whimpers to himself, adjusting the cold packs on his genitals.

"But you actually called her a different name, bro. A different name! With her mouth on your salami, your pocket rocket, on your--on your anaconda--" Leo's words fade back into cackles.

"As if you remember every goddamn hook-up’s name--"

"Dude," Leo interrupts, "if she's going to go all hungry, hungry hippo mid-blowie, I'm going to remember her name."

Drake scoffs. "Bullshit--"

"What? I'm serious, bro" Leo's voice becomes sincere. "All of these bitches we meet are looking for one thing--" he pauses dramatically for his wounded friend to finish his sentence; but the silence proves Drake is clueless as to where Leo was going with this. "A connection, Walker!" Leo's voice drips with conviction. "These women don't want to feel like they're disposable, even though--" he chuckles to himself, “let’s be honest: we’re doing them a favor--”

"--’A connection’, Leo" Drake interrupts, urging the conversation back on track.

"Right! ‘A connection," reaffirms Leo, circling back to his point. "Now, okay,” he knowingly titters, “I can’t remember all of these names--”

“Ha! See?” Drake barks.

“--Which is why--” Leo enunciates over Drake, “I use a single pet name. ‘Girl’.”

"'Girl'? That’s your trick? You call them 'girl'?" Drake raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Hear me out,” Leo continues. “If you call them something like ‘baby’ or ‘sweetie’, it can be seen as patronizing, that you’re clearly looking to smooth-talk your way into their pants--” Drake rolls his eyes, moving the phone to his other ear “--but now, calling them ‘girl’, I’m showing I want to be a friend, that I just simply want to connect. And then when you’re having your way with her, call her whatever the fuck you want as long as you finish the name with ‘girl’. Good girl. Dirty girl. Naughty girl. Sweet girl. Or in your case, hungry girl--”

Drake clears his throat, stifling a laugh. “--That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard--”

“Hey!” Leo interjects. “Who is wearing a bag of frozen peas on his one-eyed trouser snake?”

“Touché,” Drake sighs. “So, where are you right now?”

“With Jason up at his shop.”

“Who?” Drake lets out yawn, looking at his bedside alarm clock.

“Shit, Walker, you really were fucked up last night," Leo sighs. "Jason. You met him last night.” Leo’s voice lowers into a whisper. “He helped you get fucked up last night.”

“Oh! Right, right,” Drake rubs his head, “that was--wow, that shit was--”

“Good, right?” Leo finishes. “Hey, come join us at his shop. We’ve got coffee, and he’s got some new, um, product he’d love to show you--”

“Oh, Leo, I don’t know--” Drake removes the melting bag of vegetables from his lap. Gently lifting up on the waistband of his boxers, carefully inspecting his bruised parts.

“Does Liam have you working today?”

“No, no, it’s not that--” Drake hesitates.

“Oh!” Leo knowingly exclaims. “Does Riley have you working today?” He begins to chuckle. “You might need to let her know that you’re currently indisposed for --”

“Leo--” Drake warns.

“Then what's the hold up?"

Drake glances over at the mirror affixed to his antique dresser, but he doesn't recognize his own reflection. There's an emptiness in eyes, an inexplicable turmoil overcoming the man he once was. How did everything get so complicated? How did he get to such a place that it's better to be absent in life than to live it?

She was just a friend--at least that's what he convinced himself when Riley Brooks first caught his eye. Beautiful. Extremely witty with a fight he had never seen before. When they first kissed, he swore it was a mistake. Hormones. It had been so long since he had touched the delicate petals of a woman's lips.

But, this wasn't just any woman. It was her. And he soon would find himself wrapped up in her bedsheets, wrapped around her finger, wrapped in an awful web of lies.

And, all of his transgressions were against him, his very best friend, the man he regards as closer than a brother, his closest ally and confidant. Normally, Drake would turn to Liam in a heartbeat with any troubles, but this? How could he? How could he talk to Liam about his own devastation when the truth would devastate Liam?

It's been four days since that fateful night of Liam's coronation, four days since the love of Drake's life walked away from him, forcing his hand into harboring secrets from the crowned prince. It's been four days since Drake heard his own voice in his head, four days since he's been sober enough to even think. Even though he deemed the temporary escape necessary, the sudden twinge of discomfort in his groin makes him realize that taking another hit right now is the absolute last thing he needs.

"I think I better stay put," Drake answers, combing his fingers through his disheveled tresses.

"Suit yourself," Leo jovially retorts. "If you need any oxy for your boo-boo, hit me up--Oh, and Drake?"

“Hrmmm?”

"Her name is Whitney."

"What?"

"Jaws? You know, the bitch who chewed on your Moby Dick?" Drake sighs heavily, regretting that he ever told Leo what had happened. "Her name is Whitney."

Drake furrows his eyebrows. "Now, how do you remember her name--?"

"Oh, bro, you don't forget WAP Whitney--oh shit, you probably haven't gotten a good look at your sheets this morning, have you?"

With a grunt, Drake ends the call. “Fuck me,” he mutters under his breath. He carefully gets up, waddling to grab his clothes before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

In the middle of splashing his face with cold, soapy water, Drake's phone rings. Grabbing a hand towel he carefully saunters back to his room, answering the call without hesitation. "Just let it go, Leo--”

"Drake?"

An icy chill shoots down Drake’s spine, freezing him in his steps. He knows that melodic voice anywhere, a voice that reminds him of early morning sunrises and late night silver moonlit paths. “H-hey, Riley,” he stutters, caught off guard. A brief awkward stillness falls over the conversation. “How are you--?”

“I miss you, Drake,” she interrupts.

Drake’s vision suddenly begins to spin as the air in the room becomes stagnant. Stiffening his bottom lip in anger, his breathing quickens as he reaches out carefully to brace himself against the wall.

“Drake?”

“I’m here,” he chokes out. “What do you want, Brooks?” He can hear the tears in her voice, but he wills himself not to care, he wills himself to not even ask.

“Drake, I think I made a mistake--”

“No,” Drake barks out, “no, you can’t do this to me--”

“Drake, please,” Riley sobs, “I’m on my way to the doctor--”

“The doctor?” Drake’s tone suddenly changes. “Are you okay? Is everything with--um, you know--” he slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand, “--okay?”

“Yes--” she sniffles, “--no. I just, I can’t do this alone, Drake. I can’t do this--”

“Riley--” he roughly says her name to grab her attention, “you made your decision: you chose Liam. You want to raise our baby--my baby with him--”

“Don’t you think I want to have this baby with you? That’s all I can even think about Drake,” she takes a moment to calm down her shaking voice. “I love you, Drake. I want a life with you. I want you to be there when this baby is born, when this baby needs his or her father--when this baby needs you--”

“Riley--” Drake exhales with frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, “--but Liam--”

“I know, Drake. I know--” Riley takes a deep breath, “Can we just talk? In person? Just so we can figure this out? I can come over there--”

“Brooks, I--” Drake stumbles over his words as he runs his fingers over his coarse, overgrown stubble. Of course, he wants her to come over. And to stay. But, has anything changed? Liam just proposed, and she made it clear what her intentions were. But, still, it’s possible she had a change of heart, and this was a second chance he may never get again. He sighs heavily. “Sure. Okay."

After finishing his impromptu conversation with Riley, Drake realizes he needs to make another phone call. He scrolls through his call history, and clicks the green send button.

"Did you change your mind, Evander Holyfield?"

"Funny, Leo," Drake sarcastically responds. "So, yeah, um, what's the address to the shop?"

***

“Does that--does that say what I think it says?” Margot nervously stammers. "I think I saw my score--oh gosh!"

“Here. Let me look--”

Margot quickly covers the computer screen with her hands, "No, Mrs. Iris!” Margot squeals. “I’m not ready--I’m not ready for this!”

“Child, you have been ready for this for months. Now, if you don’t get your hands out of the way--"

"What's with all the commotion?" A few technicians and nurses pile into the room, each giving an endearing rub to Margot’s back. Everyone begins craning their necks to see the computer, covered by Margot's arms. "Is it time? Have they posted the scores?"

"They sure have!" answers Iris before turning to Margot. She tucks several blonde wisps behind Margot’s ear before putting her finger under her chin. "C'mon, baby," she smiles encouragingly, "it's more fun celebrating than worrying."

"I'm--" Margot takes a deep breath, biting back her tears, "--I'm so scared--"

"--and the Lord knew you would be, baby." Iris wrinkles her nose at Margot, her voice becoming stronger. "That's why He called you to be courageous. C'mon."

Margot bites her lip, slowly nodding her head. Feeling the storm brew in her eyes as the weight of the world sits on her chest, she carefully peels back her hands. Her eyes scale the black and white on the screen, but nothing seems to make sense. A burst of silence overwhelms her hearing, time standing perfectly still. Her only company is the beating of her heart.

Take my anxieties...

You have nothing to worry about…

Your will be done…

Be courageous...

Like suddenly breaking through the surface for air, an abrupt roar of cheers fill the room, shaking Margot from her trance. "Our baby girl got a 519!" screams a tearful Iris, pulling Margot from her seat and into a tight embrace. Other coworkers join in, creating a giant group hug.

Margot remains speechless, shocked by her score. She always knew she was an excellent student, studying hard all through school and excelling in her classes. When it came to the MCAT, she was confident she would score better than average, a score of 500. But, to even be noticed by top medical schools, she needed to score in the top 5%, a score 517 or greater.

News swept like wildfire through the clinic, and shortly thereafter, Tadd and some other technicians filed into the breakroom with a decorative chocolate cake and punch in tow. "I knew you could do it!" Tadd cheers victoriously, offering a chaste hug to Margot. "Dr. Hughes," he swipes his hand in the air as if to paint an imaginary portrait. "It has a nice ring to it."

"I still don't understand why you put yourself through all of that," mentions an older phlebotomist. "Cordonia has a medical school right down the road--"

"Because Margot wants to go to one of the best medical schools in the world," interrupts a deeply demanding, yet sincere voice. “To Harvard. Like me.”

"Dr. Ramirez," Margot smiles brightly, jumping up to greet her mentor with a hug.

"That is, you are still looking at my alma mater for medical school--"

"Yes ma'am!" Margot's eyes light up with the thought that her dream of going to Harvard Medical School is becoming her reality. "It would be such an honor to go there, let alone to follow in your footsteps."

Dr. Ramirez pulls Margot in for another tight hug. "My word, Mary-Margaret, 519?" she presses her cheek to Margot's, "I am so proud of you."

"Thank you, Dr. Ramirez," Margot warmly responds, "thank you for taking a chance on me and helping me so much with my studies and research--"

"You know I did that for selfish reasons, right?" The practitioner stifles a smile while Margot squints her eyes with suspicion. "Cordonia needs more female physicians, and more importantly, physicians that will make a difference in its healthcare," she grips tightly to Margot’s hand, "for everyone. I believe you will lead this country in a health care reformation."

"I don't know what to say," Margot clears her throat as she fights back the tears. "I hope I make you proud--"

"You already do." Dr. Ramirez gently touches Margot's cheek lovingly before turning to exit the room.

"Oh!" Margot quickly chases after the obstetrician, “can I talk to you? Privately?” With a nod, Dr. Ramirez leads Margot into a quiet corner. “I know my work-study ends in two weeks--”

“I know. Don’t remind me, Margot--”

“Well, I was wondering,” Margot chews on the side of her mouth, fidgeting with her fingers, “if by any chance I could possibly stay on?”

“Oh, Margot, I wish I could. Unfortunately with budget cuts--”

Margot shakes her head. “No, no, Dr. Ramirez, I meant if I could stay on, shadowing my usual Monday and Thursday mornings, I mean, if that’s alright. Learn more? Keep up my skills?”

“You want to continue volunteering with us?” The doctor gives an inquisitive look. “Don’t you want to get a job to earn money before you move to the states next year?”

“I already got that covered,” Margot assuredly answers. “I just got a job at Bríki, the coffee shop past the square--”

“Oh my gosh,” Dr. Ramirez’s eyes light up. “Does Aleksi still own that place?”

“Mr. Pavlis? Yes! Him and his son run it together, I believe--”

“They have the best coffee,” she energetically smiles, “now I have another reason to stop by.” She kindly places her hand on Margot’s shoulder. “Of course, you can stay on as a volunteer. Whenever you want, however much you want. It is a pleasure to have you around.” With a squeeze of her arm, Dr. Ramirez turns to go to her next appointment, but stops halfway down the hall. “Oh, Margot? My nurse stepped away to make an important phone call. Do you mind escorting my next patient to the exam room?”

Margot dutifully nods with a grin. She twirls around, bounding for the front desk to grab the chart of Dr. Ramirez’s next patient, a new patient. After making a few small notes, Margot opens the door to call her back.

“Brooks? Riley Brooks?”

*****

Tags: (this is my original tag list for this series; if you wanted to be added or removed, please let me know!) @alyssalauren @ao719 @bbrandy2002 @burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @forallthatitsworth @gkittylove99 @glaimtruelovealways @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovingchoices14 @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @mainstreetreader @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @sfb123 @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @sweatyrysconnoisseur @taniasethi @tessa-liam @texaskitten30 @thefrenchiemama @thegreentwin @twinkleallnight @yourmajesty09

#the royal romance #the royal romance au #the missionary’s daughter #drake walker x oc #choices fanfiction #trr fanfiction #liam x riley

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ready-to-obeyme · 4 years

Text

[OM!] All Demon Brothers + Undateables as Babysitters (Part 1)

Scenario: For the sake of the exchange program (probably), the entire cast is now in charge of taking care of kids ranging from infants to pre-K children at a daycare with you. Headcanons on what type of babysitter they would be + whatever cute shenanigans that may occur

Note: Baby fever!! Inspiration is the entirety of Gakuen Babysitter/School Babysitter. It is literally the cutest anime I have ever watched in my life and I highly recommend it if you want a cute feels-good, slice of life!! Some of the kids I may have based off of them, but you don’t need to watch it to understand this! :))

why do i always make my headcanons so long

Part 1 has the 7 Demon Brothers

[Part 2] has all five Undateables

Lucifer

This was probably Diavolo’s idea so he has no choice but to go along with it, much to his dismay

He already thought humans were fragile, and now they were going to take care of the smaller, younger ones?

His face scares 90% of the kids on his first day as a babysitter, which kind of hinders his job because every time he tries to help them clean up or change diapers, the kids start crying

The other 10% who are not intimidated by him claim him to be the Big Bad and play fight with him all the time, and considering his attitude, he’s a pretty perfect villain in their make-belief play so he’s won their hearts IMMEDIATELY

Generally a pretty strict baby-sitter who is listened to without having to repeat himself; his power and authority is unyielding (and also he’s just plain scary even if he doesn’t mean to be, and lowkey he likes the power he has because the kids remind him of Mammon sometimes)

It’s honestly a big debate whether he should just give up and ask for help or power through, but if he’s just babysitting with you, pleads with you to please help him because he’s so lost and why do they scream so loud and not that he would ever admit to it, but he is a tiny bit hurt that he can’t seem to have the kids trust him

Once he’s told that he should smile more and speak more gently, he implements it with mixed results (at first), but it’s a significant improvement from the first few days

During a moment of rest, he’s sighing when a baby crawls up to him and sits in his lap without warning, and he’s a goner

Literally has the hardest time trying to train his face not to look so pleased or happy, but his smile is so soft (and he will not hesitate to kill any of his brothers that see him like that, but for you and the undateables, he’ll just be embarrassed)

Loves infants and how trusting they are of him despite how scary his face may seem sometimes-- the epitome of unconditional love and he’s just… very tender

Probably ends up being the respected babysitter who’s super cool to all the kids but slightly unapproachable (unless you’re a babyyyy) but eventually climbs the ranks in terms of babysitters because he vouches for them if they do need him

Mammon

The kids have decided that he is the biggest kid on the playground and now to assert dominance, they must beat him up

Which is what they do-- or as much as they can with their tiny fists and miniscule strength and the fact that Mammon is a literal demon

You just stare at Mammon as he cries on the ground, whining at how the kids ganged up on him and you’re just like…. They’re literally <4 years old.

Despite that part, Mammon gets along with all the kids really well!!

He talks to them as normal and calls them ‘brats’ but they all know he’s soft for them so they kind of take advantage of that? But only a little bit because they don’t like seeing Mammon cry either

You forget who comfort the other more at this point, the kids or Mammon

Mammon is the best person to call for if the kids want to play around because he’s pretty animated himself and goes along with whatever the kids want to do

You might have to reign them in a little yourself, because you’re not quite sure Mammon really knows what’s actually dangerous for them

“Mammon, please only carry one kid at a time please, you’re scaring me”

“Huh? You know I can carry all four of them on my head--”

“Please”

Suuuper popular with the kids even though he kept complaining about them to anyone who would listen that he had to look over these tiny humans

But the moment any of the kids ask for his help or do something cute, he’s the FIRST one to go and help because ‘you need the GREAT Mammon’s help? Guess you can’t help it after all…” and he just likes the fact that he feels reliable to these kids

He might… actually save money to buy these kids Christmas gifts?? Will maybe cry if they bring little Valentine's Day candies (that their parents probably told them to give but shhh let him dream)

Leviathan

May or may not be hyperventilating as he hypes himself up to go into the daycare and meet the kids

He tried to brush it off to his brothers that they’re just kids and he doesn’t care if they like him or not because it doesn’t matter to him because he’s just an otaku-- but my god he hopes they like him

Little does he know, the fact he lets them play on his game consoles (whether or not they actually know how to play) wins them over immediately and breaks the ice

They find him super interesting to talk to and he ends up a pretty popular babysitter because he talks to them like adults (yes, even to the babies)

Catch him giving a bottle to a baby while talking to them in baby-voice (that he adopts not on purpose) about his favorite TSL season

One of the biggest reasons why the kids love him is because he really listens to them even though their rants and blabbing doesn’t always make sense

When he does talk about his interests (or it slips out, as it does), the kids are genuinely interested in what he has to say and that’s when his mission to convert all of these kids to watching anime and reading manga started

“Reading manga is going to help them develop reading comprehension!!”

Probably brings his entire stash of (kid-friendly) manga-- probably the magical girl anime with Ruri-chan-- and has the kids dig in

It does have some negative repercussions because kids aren’t exactly good at handling precious material, so things do rip and break and Levi had to excuse himself to go outside and mourn his lost

But the fire of his mission burns brighter than the sadness over what he has lost (besides, he would never bring limited edition/1st edition things outside his room so these things are replaceable)

If Halloween rolls around, the kids will exclaim that they want to be [insert character] from TSL or another anime and Levi may shed tears of happiness right there and then

Will make it his side quest to make costumes for ALL the kids-- especially if they can’t afford their own and will encourage them to be whatever they want to be!!!

He’s literally leading an army of newly-created weebs/otakus that look up to him in the daycare and the power he has over these kids is so formidable some of his brothers are actually a little jealous HAHA

Satan

Acts casual about the whole thing and is actually casual about it

He hasn’t necessarily spent much time with kids, but he figures he’d be able to do it-- and he’d be right; considering how natural he is with people in general, I doubt kids would be much different, especially if he talks to them like adults and respects their opinions

Is definitely the type of babysitter some of the kids end up having a little baby crush on, considering how charming and prince-like he can be with his gentle tone of voice

Not that he’s perfect-- some kids are just brats and he does get angry at them but he only needed to snap once before the troublemakers all learned not to mess with him

Despite that, he would most likely be the ones to keep an eye on the troublemakers, because it may be a sign of a troubled home (not always, but… well, he would know best, wouldn’t he?) and he’d want to reach out to them if he can help them in any way

What he loves to do with the kids-- and you can probably guess-- is have Story Time!!

The kids are so excited to circle around him before naptime and listen to him read storybooks, doing voice overs and dramatic/animated readings; the kids are so intently listening and giggling at the funny parts

At first, he attempted to bring all his books over to the daycare, but he had to put some back when you tell him these kids are literally three and probably don’t have the reading comprehension required to read Quantum Physics-- so he provides picture books instead; anything he procured from the human world

Really encourages the kids to try their best to read and, if he has the time of day, tries to teach them basic things like the alphabet, how to spell out each words etc (you may call him…. Sensei)

Adores their imagination too because he knows adults could hardly compare at times and he encourages them to make up their own stories and he’d help them write it down

Uses a lot of tactic like these to encourage their education and their development-- he loves books and the impact they’ve made on him and he wants these kids to be able to experience the same things

Asmodeus

A little hesitant at first because kids can be super cute and great for pictures but… they can also be super gross and kind of mean; and he’s seen both ends of the spectrum so he’s not really sure what to expect

Then one of the kid compliments his hair clip shyly and shows their own similar hairclip and he’s sold because obviously they have the cutest kids in the world

Hair undone? He’s there

You wanna try out painting nails? Oh hun, he’s got you-- free make-overs for EVERYONE-- except maybe the infants, he doesn’t wanna ruin the natural baby smell and softness they have going for them

He wants to encourage ALL the kids to express themselves so he sometimes brings old clothes he doesn’t wear anymore so they have a fashion show/runways

ALWAYS encourages the kid to wear what they want because gender norms who???

If ANY and I mean ANY parent comes up to him and talk about him letting them wear non-gender conforming clothes he WILL go off on them because they are LITERALLY KIDS-- let them express themselves and have fun

Kinda grossed out by snot and diapers tho so you’re gonna have to help him with that; and since the universe knows that he hates getting dirty, he’s probably the brother most likely to get peed on while changing a diaper

You have to force him back into the daycare after that incident because he refuses to come out of the bathroom after changing into clean clothes

But he is so captivating that the kids usually don’t cause trouble when he’s around, and also similarly to Levi, he talks and listens to them blabber while he’s doing their hair so it’s always pretty soothing

Probably ends up in charge of the creativity hour and cooing over everyone’s art project, encouraging them to sprinkle as much glitter as they want, use as many colors as they want-- as long as it makes them happy!

Beelzebub

Considering he’s the sweetest and physically the strongest, he’s actually pretty concerned about hurting them, and asks you to help him adjust to this new role so that the kids will be okay (you know he’ll be fine, but if saying yes to helping him will make him feel better, you say it)

Beel keeps to himself as a babysitter for the first few-- oh idk-- hours before some of the kids figure out how STRONG he is and he’s the best thing since sliced bread

The kids start to literally hang from him, testing how strong he really is, and are all delighted that he can hold all of them in and from his arms; he’s a little worried he’ll drop them, but since the kids are so excited about it, decides to lift them only a little high just to please them

Happily, he eventually gets used to knowing how to deal with them, and it helps that the kids are so polite to him

He’s the ultimate Big Brother figure to them, much to his surprise since he’s used to being the younger brother, and it makes him really soft inside that these kids actually look up to him and rely on him

During free play, he has definitely carried at least six kids on his back when they play horsey and not break a sweat and throws the babies up in the air playfully (and carefully) and let them pretend they were flying

He’s their protector, making sure that they’re playing safely, even though he went a little too ham on the protection, grabbing a kid by the scruff of his collar because he was running and beel was afraid of him falling and scraping his knees

“It’s okay Beel, they can handle it--”

“Are you sure?? But they’re so tiny and fragile--”

Changes diapers pretty handily after the first time; has definitely tried the baby formula and ate the entire bottle by accident before feeding a baby

Makes sure the kids are nice to each other, especially siblings, and that they eat; you tell the kids that if they eat their vegetables they’ll grow as strong as Beel, and that’s the FASTEST you’ve ever seen picky kids eat them in your LIFE

Belphegor

“Alright, nap time, everyone!”

“Belphie, they just arrived;;;”

Honestly just thought this entire thing was a hassle because kids in general take a lot of work and he just doesn’t want to put that sort of effort into something he didn’t sign up for

But since you’re there, he may as well try to be proficient enough to be well-liked enough to not cause a fuss and be able to babysit with you

He’s the type of babysitter who converses with the kids and pretends he doesn’t know something so the kid tries to teach him-- and honestly this give the kid a chance to be confident in their skills and also lets Belphie not do as much work to keep the conversation alive so win-win

As you can probably guess, is definitely in charge of enforcing nap time… by napping with the kids-- gotta learn by example right?

There are probably mats that the kids lie on but whenever Belphie lies in the middle of them, they all end up rolling and curling near his side; when he wakes up he’s always surrounded by a sea of kids and he’s so confused and he can’t move unless you wake up the kids for him

The most efficient babysitter out of all of them because efficiency means less effort and time taken to change a diaper, clean up a spill, or wipe a kid’s nose

Doesn’t understand why the kids keep wanting to interact with him but he’ll always indulge them in the end regardless of his nonchalant attitude

He actually finds a lot of them endearing when they talk about the things they like to do and about their daily life because it’s always interesting to learn about their perspective on things

When it’s creativity hour, the kids like asking him to doodle something on their paper (it can be a small chibi or caricature or just some animal) and it always makes them super happy; you watch him crack a smile as he sees the kids try to copy his drawing right next to it

If any of them are interested in stars, will gently show them the constellations in books and watch as they fascinate over them as he did before

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #School Babysitters #last post for the day #i need to focus on hw HAHAHA #very indulgent hcs

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