#Employment history checks

[privateinvestigatorsuniverse]

The Background Check Australia: Know about the role played

Hiring employees for an office is an intricate process. These days the hiring process is too different from the past. Usually, parameters like character skills, talent or creativity, and problem-solving skills are essential. Any organisation would want to have human resources that would offer excellent performance but will also showcase reliability and integrity. Therefore, background check is the game changer when hiring employees. Hence, this article explicitly discusses background check Australia and how the methods can bring change.

The purpose of conducting Background check Australia

Do you want to know why Background Check Australia is considered an indispensable part of the hiring process? Well, it helps companies to understand the candidates who are honest, trustworthy and won't jeopardise the company's reputation. You can say that background check is like a lens that offers a panoramic picture of the candidate's qualifications, history and character. Of course, any employer can make out an inclusive image of the candidate from information regarding education, criminal record, and previous employment details.

Methods used in the process of Background Checking

Background check Australia follows a meticulous scrutinisation process. It is designed in a way to unveil hidden facts that might not surface easily to the bare eyes. Private investigator companies with experience in background checks often carry out the process that considers checking the legal records of the candidate. It also discloses beliefs that might seem to put the safety of the workplace at stake and even can destroy the ethical balance. Background checks involve checking credit history to ensure the employee's fianncial liabilities. Also, it shows whether the candidate is not accused of any monetary scam.

Academic verification of the candidate is obvious

Many times it has been seen that candidates do claim their alleged degrees as original. But later on, when found, that might turn out wrong. Honestly, that again puts a question mark on the credibility and qualification of the company's work office. In that case, background check Australia is crucial in preventing whether The acclaimed stuff is right or wrong. And warns the company about the wrong credentials being produced. Employment history checks even show the career journey of the candidate in a larger context. Apart from that also conducts drug checks to ensure the workplace is free of illicit substances.

Final Say

Therefore you can see that these are the various ways the Background Check Australia carries on work. So employers can also Avail the criminal check service for detailed insight on the suitability of the candidate

[compacflt]

The poor SECDEF being referenced in Ice's postcard as an unfunny man and then in the Slider POV where Ice and Mav talk to SECDEF and have some sort of inside joke where they laugh about them. I love all these small inside references that feel like Easter eggs. How do you keep track of them when you're writing? Not sure if it will be in the 120k words of extra scenes (which I'm so grateful for, like I'd be fine with even just scraps) but being a fly on the wall while Ice interacts with the SECDEF be like sounds hilarious. Ironic that Ice thinks that he'd sit out in his retirement until he becomes SECNAV and then possibly SECDEF in "Debriefing" and that Ice has become the sort of unfunny man that lost his acerbic wit but regained it by the end in Slider's POV. Anywho I'm kind of in love with your writing and these characters and will sorely miss them when you're done posting these extras. Thank you for writing this fic and the extras and the WIP Wednesdays and everything. I know you've got other writing projects and wishing you the best, and can't wait until the 120k words drop this weekend. :)

to be clear the secdef ice says is unfunny/the secdef ice & mav laugh about at his retirement party are these two fucking guys

im very hesitant to label anyone war criminals even for Funny Reasons because words do mean things., but when it comes to Bob gates i do get all twitchy and hair-triggery

i think ice being secdef after being secnav is unlikely at best & impossible at worst but the thought of him stepping up to do it during bidens second term & then having to deal with. like. china invading taiwan is unbearably funny to me so it’s not out of the question in my fic universe because it would be good for the bit. first openly gay secretary of defense and he sends the US to open all-out conventional war with China,

[sgrji]

A Comprehensive Guide to Background Verification (BGV) in Today's World

In our increasingly interconnected and digitized world, the importance of ensuring the trustworthiness and credibility of individuals and entities has never been greater. Background Verification (BGV) plays a pivotal role in this process. From employment screenings to tenant checks, and even in the realm of cybersecurity, BGV is a critical tool used to evaluate the history and reliability of…

[ryukatters]

I think l’ll post gojo’s bday fic late

[racefortheironthrone]

Hi- er, this is my first-ever writer's strike, how does one not cross a picket line in this context? I know how not to do it with things like Amazon and IRL strikes, but how does it apply to media/streaming?

Hi, this is a great question, because it allows me to write about the difference between honoring a picket line and a boycott. (This is reminding me of the labor history podcast project that's lain fallow in my drafts folder for some time now...) In its simplest formulation, the difference between a picket line and a boycott is that a picket line targets an employer at the point of production (which involves us as workers), whereas a boycott targets an employer at the point of consumption (which involves us as consumers).

So in the case of the WGA strike, this means that at any company that is being struck by the WGA - I've seen Netflix, Amazon, Apple, Disney, Warner Brothers Discovery, NBC, Paramount, and Sony mentioned, but there may be more (check the WGA website and social media for a comprehensive list) - you do not cross a picket line, whether physical or virtual. This means you do not take a meeting with them, even if its a pre-existing project, you do not take phone calls or texts or emails or Slacks from their executives, you do not pitch them on a spec script you've written, and most of all you do not answer any job application.

Because if this strike is like any strike since the dawn of time, you will see the employers put out ads for short-term contracts that will be very lucrative, generally above union scale - because what they're paying for in addition to your labor is you breaking the picket line and damaging the strike - to anyone willing to scab against their fellow workers. GIven that one of the main issues of the WGA are the proliferation of short-term "mini rooms" whereby employers are hiring teams of writers to work overtime for a very short period, to the point where they can only really do the basics (a series outline, some "broken stories," and some scripts) and then have the showrunner redo everything on their lonesome, while not paying writers long-term pay and benefits, I would imagine we're going to see a lot of scab contracts being offered for these mini rooms.

But for most of us, unless we're actively working as writers in Hollywood, most of that isn't going to be particularly relevant to our day-to-day working lives. If you're not a professional or aspiring Hollywood writer, the important thing to remember honoring the picket line doesn't mean the same thing as a boycott. WGA West hasn't called on anyone to stop going to the movies or watching tv/streaming or to cancel their streaming subscriptions or anything like that. If and when that happens, WGA will go to some lengths to publicize that ask - and you should absolutely honor it if you can - so there will be little in the way of ambiguity as to what's going on.

That being said, one of the things that has happened in the past in other strikes is that well-intentioned people get it into their heads to essentially declare wildcat (i.e, unofficial and unsanctioned) boycotts. This kind of stuff comes from a good place, someone wanting to do more to support the cause and wanting to avoid morally contaminating themselves by associating with a struck company, but it can have negative effects on the workers and their unions. Wildcat boycotts can harm workers by reducing back-end pay and benefits they get from shows if that stuff is tied to the show's performance, and wildcat boycotts can hurt unions by damaging negotiations with employers that may or may not be going on.

The important thing to remember with all of this is that the strike is about them, not us. Part of being a good ally is remembering to let the workers' voices be heard first and prioritizing being a good listener and following their lead, rather than prioritizing our feelings.

[pallavikale]

In our blog, we delve into the crucial practice of background screening in the hiring process. Discover how comprehensive background checks can be your shield against making a regrettable hiring decision. We explore the benefits, methodologies, and the powerful impact of background screening in ensuring you bring the right talent on board, protect your organization, and promote a thriving work environment. Join us on the journey to smarter, more informed hiring decisions.

[fairuzfan]

The thing with news sources and deciding what's trustworthy and what's not is that when you see criticism of Aljazeera (which to be clear is not a great news source about anything other than Palestine) is that they completely neglect to mention that each regional section of Al-Jazeera has different people in charge of it, different contributors, different sources.

By all means, analyze your sources and understand what information you're getting but to say outright that ALL of what AlJazeera reports EVER is wrong is inherently meant to discredit Palestinian journalists in a way that no other journalist who is not Palestinian and NOT directly experiencing the war in Gaza has been discredited. Surprisingly (not really but), a lot of Palestinians in Gaza are employed by AlJazeera because it's difficult for them to find employment elsewhere.

And again, I do not love AlJazeera. I think they do plenty of faulty journalism and reporting and I actively avoid them for most news sources. But RIGHT NOW with everything going on in Gaza, they're probably one of the most trustworthy ones because of their first hand accounts and willingness to publish Palestinian voices, which many, MANY news stations refuse to do. I especially encourage the Arabic version of AlJazeera!

Like Haartz has like... 4 Palestinians on their editorial team max, and they have EVEN LESS people on the ground in Gaza whereas we have dozens of reporters from Gaza on Al-Jazeera, many of which have died. The way to fact check your news is you find how many times they link factual evidence (like videos of experiences, primary accounts, primary quotes) and compare it with circumstance of publishing.

Here are some ways to fact check and questions to ask, even when looking at Al Jazeera:

Is this a first hand account? If not, does it name a person who experienced this first hand?

If they cite/name a person who experienced it first hand, are they a trustworthy person? What are their ties to the situation? Why would they report this, have they reported situations like this in the past?

What would the person reporting gain from reporting this? A Palestinian with an Instagram post about their life in Gaza has much less to gain than an Israeli soldier publishing their experience in Gaza, for example.

In the first hand account, are there actions or evidence that is corroborated? IE: There was a video of an Israeli soldier abducting a blonde Palestinian, and there was a Human Rights Org that reported child abductions from evidence gather by an on the ground reporter. There is less of a chance that this is false, therefore.

If you don't see other news sources reporting this (ie, you don't see CNN/NYT/BBC/Fox/any other western-led media outlet) then ask: Why would they not report it? Does that mean it's false? Maybe not. Many Euro-american sources spend MONTHS before they talk about an issue (think: Washington post article "questioning" the evidence of Hamas in Al-Shifaa hospital more than a month after the raid happened)

Defining "Trustworthy":

What is their history on reporting events? Are they someone who is well known in whatever community they represent?

Think: Ghassan Abu-Sitta, a world renowned doctor. When he reports something with his name attached, he is putting his entire reputation on the line. Therefore, it is more likely he is telling the truth.

Are they someone who has any real, structural power over the situation? Maha Hussaini, for example, cannot change her circumstances because a ceasefire relies on other people separate from her, a journalist. Therefore, she has less of a reason to lie about things happening to her.

For the news source: what are their ties to the situation? CNN, for example, has stated they have their content reviewed by the IDF. Wael Al-Dahdouh, before he was evacuated, was providing first hand accounts of situation, meaning its difficult for him to fake anything or misrepresent.

What else has this person/news source reported? What are their political leanings — not just left/right, but what are their general stances on a variety of issues?

How many people who are part of the community impacted are part of reporting on this (IE: How many Palestinian POVs are shared, how many Israeli POVs are shared, what are the POVs of the people shared in general?).

Can someone I personally trust vouch for this person? If not, can I ask someone I trust to look over this person/agency and tell me their opinion?

There's for sure more I'm forgetting but these are some ways I personally check my facts and information as a quick rundown. And I see this issue of not knowing how to fact check happen ALL OVER the place, on both sides. So I really, highly encourage everyone to engage with sources more honestly!

You'll make mistakes, everyone does! I do as well! But try to be vigilant about these things so we can ensure that we're spreading accurate information and try to correct information when possible! There's no 100% unbiased source so I encourage you to compare/contrast information and your understandings of the world to fully comprehend the situation!

Please use these questions when checking ANY news source, even Al-Jazeera!

[themoneysavvyblog]

Why Your Credit Score Matters

I have previously written about credit score basics here. I’d like to dig deeper on how it can actually impact your life. Mortgages and Loans The main use of your credit score and report is to determine if you are trustworthy, financially speaking. Financial institutions and credit card companies use it to assess your credit risk, i.e. their potential losses if you were to default. Your credit…

[mostlysignssomeportents]

"Efficiency" left the Big Three vulnerable to smart UAW tactics

Tomorrow (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tomorrow night, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

It's been 143 days since the WGA went on strike against the Hollywood studios. While early tactical leaks from the studios had studio execs chortling and twirling their mustaches about writers caving once they started losing their homes, the strikers aren't wavering – they're still out there, pounding the picket lines, every weekday:

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/08/09/how-hollywood-writers-make-ends-meet-100-days-into-the-writers-guild-strike.html

The studios obviously need writers. That gleeful, anonymous studio exec who got such an obvious erotic charge at the thought of workers being rendered homeless as punishment for challenging his corporate power completely misread the room, and his comments didn't demoralize the writers. Instead, they inspired the actors to go on strike, too.

But how have the writers stayed out since May Day? How have the actors stayed out for 69 days since their strike started on Bastille Day? We can thank the studios for that! As it turns out, the studios have devoted so much energy to rendering creative workers as precarious as possible, hiring as little as they can getting away with and using punishing overtime as a substitute for adequate staffing that they've eliminated all the workers who can't survive on side-hustles and savings for six or seven months at a time.

But even for those layoff-hardened workers, long strikes are brutal, and of course, all the affiliated trades, from costumers to grips, are feeling the pain. The strike fund only goes so far, and non-striking, affected workers don't even get that. That's why I've been donating regularly to the Entertainment Community Fund, which helps all affected workers out with cash transfers (I just gave them another $500):

https://secure2.convio.net/afa/site/Donation2?df_id=8117&8117.donation=form1&mfc_pref=T

As hot labor summer is revealed as a turning point – not just a season – long strikes will become the norm. Bosses still don't believe in worker power, and until they get their minds right, they're going to keep on trying to starve their workforces back inside. To get a sense of how long workers will have to hold out, just consider the Warrior Met strike, where Alabama coal-miners stayed out for 23 months:

https://www.thenation.com/article/activism/warrior-met-strike-union/

As Kim Kelly explained to Adam Conover in the latest Factually podcast, the Alabama coal strikers didn't get anywhere near the attention that the Hollywood strikers have enjoyed:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvyMHf7Yg0Q

(To learn more about the untold story of worker organizing, from prison unions to the key role that people of color and women played in labor history, check out Kelly's book, "Fight Like Hell," now in paperback:)

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Fight-Like-Hell/Kim-Kelly/9781982171063

Which brings me to the UAW strike. This is an historic strike, the first time that the UAW has struck all of the Big Three automakers at once. Past autoworkers' strikes have marked turning points for all American workers. The 1945/46 GM strike established employers' duty to cover worker pensions, health care, and cost of living allowances. The GM strike created the American middle-class:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-18-uaw-strikes-built-american-middle-class/

The Big Three are fighting for all the marbles here. They are refusing to allow unions to organize EV factories. Given that no more internal combustion cars will be in production in just a few short years, that's tantamount to eliminating auto unions altogether. The automakers are flush with cash, including billions in public subsidies from multiple bailouts, along with billions more from greedflation price-gouging. A long siege is inevitable, as the decimillionaires running these companies earn their pay by starving out their workers:

https://www.businessinsider.com/general-motors-ceo-mary-barra-salary-auto-workers-strike-uaw-2023-9

The UAW knows this, of course, and their new leadership – helmed by the union's radical president Shawn Fain – has a plan. UAW workers are engaged in tactical striking, shutting down key parts of the supply chain on a rolling basis, making the 90-day strike fund stretch much farther:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2023-09-18-labors-militant-creativity/

In this project, they are greatly aided by Big Car's own relentless pursuit of profit. The automakers – like every monopolized, financialized sector – have stripped all the buffers and slack out of their operations. Inventory on hand is kept to a bare minimum. Inputs are sourced from the cheapest bidder, and they're brought to the factory by the lowest-cost option. Resiliency – spare parts, backup machinery – is forever at war with profits, and profits have won and won and won, leaving auto production in a brittle, and easily shattered state.

This is especially true for staffing. Automakers are violently allergic to hiring workers, because new workers get benefits and workplace protection. Instead, the car companies routinely offer "voluntary" overtime to their existing workforce. By refusing this overtime, workers can kneecap production, without striking.

Enter "Eight and Skate," a campaign among UAW workers to clock out after their eight hour shift. As Keith Brower Brown writes for Labor Notes, the UAW organizers are telling workers that "It’s crossing an unofficial picket line to work overtime. It’s helping out the company":

https://labornotes.org/2023/09/work-extra-during-strike-auto-workers-say-eight-and-skate

Eight and Skate has already started to work; the Buffalo Ford plant can no longer run its normal weekend shifts because workers are refusing to put in voluntary overtime. Of course, bosses will strike back: the next step will be forced overtime, which will lead to the unsafe conditions that unionized workers are contractually obliged to call paid work-stoppages over, shutting down operations without touching the strike fund.

What's more, car bosses can't just halt safety stoppages or change the rules on overtime; per the UAW's last contract, bosses are required to bargain on changes to overtime rules:

https://uaw.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Working-Without-Contract-FAQ-FINAL-2.pdf

Car bosses have become lazily dependent on overtime. At GM's "highly profitable" SUV factory in Arlington, TX, normal production runs a six-days, 24 hours per day. Workers typically work five eight-hour days and nine hours on Saturdays. That's been the status quo for 11 years, but when bosses circulated the usual overtime signup sheet last week, every worker wrote "a big fat NO" next to their names.

Writing for The American Prospect, David Dayen points out that this overtime addiction puts a new complexion on the much-hyped workerpocalypse that EVs will supposedly bring about. EVs are much simpler to build than conventional cars, the argument goes, so a US transition to EVs will throw many autoworkers out of work:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-20-big-threes-labor-shortages-uaw/

But the reality is that most autoworkers are doing one and a half jobs already. Reducing the "workforce" by a third could leave all these workers with their existing jobs, and the 40-hour workweek that their forebears fought for at GM inn 1945/46. Add to that the additional workers needed to make batteries, build and maintain charging infrastructure, and so on, and there's no reason to think that EVs will weaken autoworker power.

And as Dayen points out, this overtime addiction isn't limited to cars. It's also endemic to the entertainment industry, where writers' "mini rooms" and other forms of chronic understaffing are used to keep workforces at a skeleton crew, even when the overtime costs more than hiring new workers.

Bosses call themselves job creators, but they have a relentless drive to destroy jobs. If there's one thing bosses hate, it's paying workers – hence all the hype about AI and automation. The stories about looming AI-driven mass unemployment are fairy tales, but they're tailor made for financiers who get alarming, life-threatening priapism at the though of firing us all and replacing us with shell-scripts:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

This is why Republican "workerism" rings so hollow. Trump's GOP talks a big game about protecting "workers" (by which they mean anglo men) from immigrants and "woke captialism," but they have nothing to say about protecting workers from bosses and bankers who see every dime a worker gets as misappropriated from their dividend.

Unsurprisingly, conservative message-discipline sucks. As Luke Savage writes in Jacobin, for every mealymouthed Josh Hawley mouthing talking points that "support workers" by blaming China and Joe Biden for the Big Three's greed, there's a Tim Scott, saying the quiet part aloud:

https://jacobin.com/2023/09/republicans-uaw-strike-hawley-trump-scott/

Quoth Senator Scott: "I think Ronald Reagan gave us a great example when federal employees decided they were going to strike. He said, you strike, you’re fired. Simple concept to me. To the extent that we can use that once again, absolutely":

https://twitter.com/American_Bridge/status/1704136706574741988

The GOP's workerism is a tissue-thin fake. They can never and will never support real worker power. That creates an opportunity for Biden and Democrats to seize:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/18/co-determination/#now-make-me-do-it

Reversing two generations of anti-worker politics is a marathon, not a sprint. The strikes are going to run for months, even years. Every worker will be called upon to support their striking siblings, every day. We can do it. Solidarity now. Solidarity forever.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/21/eight-and-skate/#strike-to-rule

[authenticating07]

Identity Authentication API for Instant and Comprehensive Background Checks

Background checks are a vital part of the hiring process. Humans are easy to manipulate and can have biases, but machine learning is not as biased as humans. Background checks also help companies do due diligence on any job applicant. Identity Authentication API, companies can search documents in a secure and timely manner. If you need a top-notch Identity Server API Authentication, Authenticate is your go-to. We offer our customers the most efficient and affordable products on the market, while still maintaining top-notch security measures. API checks the user's identity through a variety of ways, including an email, IP Address, Identity Authentication, phone number, and more.  

When it comes to API for Background Checks, the solutions provided by Authenticate are always the most affordable and reliable. Having the right API solutions means that you can quickly and easily get the information you need to stay up to date on the best practices in your industry related to background checks. API solutions are useful for organizations and businesses. They can help you to create a more efficient and safer workplace. Identity Check API is highly effective and in this day and age, should be used by all companies as part of their online security protocols.  

Background checks are more important than ever in today's digital marketplace. While the majority of jobs still require paper resumes, more and more companies are moving toward an online job platform as opposed to having applicants fill out a paper form. This means every applicant has gotten one step closer to getting hired through a process that not only can be tracked but is quickly considered to be reliable. Our Advanced Background Checks APIs are easy to use, allowing anyone with basic programming knowledge to quickly get started with using them. We have developed a number of proprietary solutions for our client's needs. Our API can help you build trust in your hiring process and prevent discrimination in the hiring process. Contact us today at +1 833-283-7439 to learn more about our API solutions.  

[zvdvdlvr]

spencer reid has a soulmate :)

Head up, nose clean. You repeated the phrase as you stepped out of the elevator, excited for your new internship at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico.

You were 23, intellectually gifted, and quiet as all get-out. Because of how used to being alone you were, you assumed that the scientific community’s ‘groundbreaking proof’ of soulmates was completely absurd.

Almost everyone found their soulmate at 20-21, going and and clubbing or just going shopping. You knew that part of the reason you didn’t know your soulmate (or even knew if you had one) was because you didn’t look at people. You watched their movements and body language, you just didn’t look strangers in the eye.

That’s how you knew that there were a group of people watching you as you walked up the stairs to your employer’s office.

“Agent Hotchner?” You asked, knocking gently on the door.

The tall, dark-haired man stood up. “Sit, please.” You sat in the chair he gestured too after shaking his hand. “Yet again, I have to remind you that the things we see daily are not for weak stomached people. Our presence has been requested in Wisconsin, and we’re set to have a meeting in,” Hotch looked at his watch. “Twenty seconds. I understand that this is your first day, but from what I’ve seen from you, you are more than capable of fieldwork. Are you ready?”

You nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Good. You have your concealed carry license?”

You stood up and nodded. “When I was 21.”

“Good. Let’s get you introduced to the rest of the team.”

You remembered Rossi from when he personally requested to meet you one-on-one. He had wanted to have a… pleasant conversation with you. You understood why he wanted to check your morals.

Emily Prentiss smiled brightly at you even though she was clearly taken aback at your presence. Derek Morgan shook your hand and gave you a smile. Penelope Garcia was a ball of energy who pulled you into a tight hug, fussing over you like an older sister. She had a gorgeous smile. Jennifer Jareau was as polite as ever, shaking your hand and greeting you politely but something in her gaze you figured she might be happy to have a fresh face with new ideas.

“Where’s Reid?” Derek asked, looking around the table.

Jennifer shrugged. “Late. We’ll fill him in on the plane. Anyway…” the gorgeous immediately started to inform of you the kidnapping and killings of five men. They were all shot and killed in their homes with no signs of forced entry.

About two minutes in the discussion, the door swung open. You assumed the man was ‘Reid’. He shrugged of his bag and didn’t look up at until Jennifer kept going.

“Any sign of robbery? Anything missing?” Derek asked right after J.J. finished. You opened your own file, seeing the pictures closer. You couldn’t see the color of blood, but you could tell that the crime scene was clean. The only blood stemmed from the bullet to the head.

“No. The families of the victims said that nothing looked out of place or missing.”

Emily furrowed her eyebrows. “There was no other physical harm besides the cause of death? That’s bizarre.”

J.J. nodded.

“Could be a woman. Women are known for their aversion to ‘trophies’ or items they take from their victims. Maybe a prostitute… not many men would open their doors to women unless, for, you know,” you explained.

Silence fell over the room and you looked down. Clearly you had said something. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

“No, no, you’re right,” the late areival says, thumbing through his file. “There are no signs of rage or remorse and women are known for their emotional detachment or rage killings. All victims have a history of violence and sexual assult. This ccould very well be a woman trying to exact revenge. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it sooner,” Reid rambles, nodding as he pieces the puzzles together. “Sorry, what did you say your name wa…” he trails off, looking you in the eye.

Your mouth falls open as the world seems to erupt in the different black and grey hues of fire. Except this time you actually see the color. Your eyes are locked on Reid’s, disbelief painted all over your face.

“Y/n,” you whisper, eyes flickering to his rich brown hair, light pink lips, saucer-wide eyes, and heaving chest.

“Hello, soulmate. I’m Spencer. Spencer Reid.”

[nateconnolly]

The website requires you to upload a PDF of your resume and your list of references. Then the website requires you to manually type out every single thing on your resume and your list of references. You do an interview! They liked you! They want to proceed with the secondary interview, and in order to schedule that, they need you to email them a PDF of your resume and your list of references. You email both of those things to them. They need to do a background check. The form for the background check requires you to manually type out your employment history -- where did you work, when did you start, when did you leave? You do the second interview! They liked you! You get an email from the head of the program! You open it, hoping for a job offer. Inside, the email says that they need a PDF of

[hayleythesugarbowl]

you should do a spencer agnew x reader but reader is the new smosh games PA and she has a slow burn / flirty relationship with spencer :)))

Cool Shoes || Spencer Agnew x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist • part 2  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you join smosh as the newest addition to the games crew, you are immediately attracted to spencer. but will your little crush turn into something more?

word count: 3.7k

warnings: mild language

a/n: thank you so much for this request ml!! i love writing for spencer sm and honestly i kinda fell in love w him a little bit while writing this so ty 🤭 this isn’t superrr slow burny (i got to excited and eager lol oops) but there’s plenty of flirting and i hope you enjoy this!! 🎀

edit!! i have a part two now, so if you enjoy this fic go check that out 💋

<— some more spencer fics • next part —>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “And this concludes your official tour of Smosh,” Shayne said, throwing his arms wide. “Any questions?”

     “Yes,” you answered, “Is that my ring?”

     “(Y/n),” Shayne whined as he slipped the ring that was definitely yours into his pocket quickly, “That’s what you got out of my tour?”

     “You’re right, I’m sorry Oh Wise Guide,” you teased, “You know I wouldn’t be here without you. Or if I was, I’d be really lost.”

     You had just officially begun your job at Smosh that morning. Shayne had immediately started showing you around and you really were grateful.

     You’d known Shayne for years and he was the one that suggested you try and get a job with Smosh when you’d moved to LA a few months ago. 

     You’d gotten a job as the Smosh Games PA and you couldn’t wait to get started. You already knew a lot of the people who worked there—either because you’d met them through Shayne outside of Smosh or from the multiple times you’d visited the studio before you’d applied for the job.

     Plus, this was the first job you’d had where you actually felt like you’d be doing something you enjoyed. 

     “Who’s lost?” You heard a voice from behind you and you spun around quickly.

     “Oh, (Y/n), this is Spencer, the director of our games channel,” Shayne introduced you to the man who had spoke. “Spencer, this is (Y/n), the new games PA.”

     You knew you should’ve said something to him along the lines of ‘hi, nice to meet you. i’m (y/n). i look forward to working with you’ but all that came out was “Cool shoes.”

    You didn't know why that was what your mind had landed on—he was wearing basic gray sneakers—but you were so caught off guard by how attractive he was that you’d kinda choked.

     Because damn. He had the most gorgeous eyes you’d ever seen on a person before. 

     Spencer smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Either you’re just trying to kiss ass already or you’ve got really bad taste in shoes because these babies are mid at best.”

     You smiled, looking down at your own shoes. “Definitely the second option—these are someone’s grandma’s shoes. Seriously, I scavenged them from my Nanna’s closet.”

     This got you a laugh from Spencer and you continued, “Unless I should be kissing ass?”

     “Nah,” Spencer waved the thought away, “most of your job’s just gonna consist of bringing me Mountain Dew. So unless you can screw that up…”

     “He’s not serious, is he?” You turned around to ask Shayne. “Because you said this wasn’t gonna be like my last job.”

     “You slung Mountain Dew at your last job?” Spencer asked. 

     You shook your head. “Just had a lousy boss who took the assistant part of my job a little too far. But I appreciate your concern for my employment history,” you teased. 

     You were surprised at how easy it was to talk to Spencer. Usually you wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to joke around with someone you just met—let alone your new boss. Your new boss who you had almost undressed with your eyes upon first sight. 

     “Settle down, I was just gonna ask if you had any cans left over,” Spencer winked.

     “Spencer’s kind of addicted to Mountain Dew Kickstart,” Shayne piped in. “And by kind of—”

     “He means I’ve already had four today,” Spencer finished.

     You made a face, “It’s 9:00am.”

     “Ooh,” Spencer winced dramatically, “Sorry, but I don’t think our values align. Go ahead and bring in the next one, Shayne.  (Y/n), it was nice meeting you—good luck with the shoes thing.”

     Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “You already have another person lined up for my job?”

     Spencer leaned towards you and you felt your pulse pick up ever-so-slightly. “Shayne doesn’t know it yet, but it’s actually just him,” he whispered loudly.

     “Well then I may have to quit, just to see how this goes,” you said, turning to Shayne who crossed his arms.

     “Not when I was just starting to like you,” Spencer pouted and you felt your cheeks warm.

     “I was just starting to think you’re not so bad yourself,” you shot back.

     “Woah, I just meant ‘cause you have a secret stash of Mountain Dew.”

     “And I meant because you have cool shoes,” you teased.

     “Well, now that we’ve got that settled,” Spencer smiled, “I expect to see you here by 5:00am sharp tomorrow morning.”

     “Seriously?” Your job description hadn’t said anything about getting to work when it was still dark out!

     Spencer shrugged. “I guess I can give you a few more hours. Y’know, so you can shop for some decent footwear beforehand. See ya later, grandma shoes.”

      He began to walk backwards and you said a quick ‘it was nice to meet you’ before he turned around and walked back the way he came.

     You couldn’t stop the smile that was forming on your face. You could already tell this was going to turn out to be a great job. You couldn’t wait to get to work tomorrow. And you couldn’t pretend part of that wasn’t because you wanted to see Spencer again.   

     And not just because that’s what your eyes wanted. You had enjoyed talking with him. You felt like you’d really hit it off. You felt like you two could really become good friends and coworkers. 

     You turned to Shayne, aware that you were probably still smiling like an idiot. 

     “What?” He fixed you with a quizzical look.

     “Nothing, I’m just excited to start working here,” you said.

     Shayne raised an eyebrow.

     “And,” You added, reluctantly, and only because you knew Shayne would find out  eventually, “you didn’t tell me my boss was hot.”

     Now Shayne raised both eyebrows, “Spencer?”

     “What?”

     “Nothing,” he said, “I mean, he’s single, so go for it if you want. He seemed like he really liked you and—”

     “No,” you cut him off, “Definitely not. He’s my boss. I don’t want to ‘go for’ anything other than a good, friendly, professional relationship.”

     “Okay,” Shayne nodded. 

      You nodded back and he was silent for a moment before smiling, 

     “‘Course that’s what I said about Courtney…”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

You took a sip of your coffee from the mug you were holding as you made your way down the hall and towards your office.

     You’d been working at Smosh for approximately seventeen days and you had finally stopped getting lost throughout the building on a daily basis.

     Once Spencer had showed you the ropes and made sure you knew what you were doing, you had joined right in to the well oiled machine that was Smosh.

     Unfortunately, your sense of directions wasn’t as good as your work ethic and so it had taken extra time for you to remember where everything was. Much to Shayne’s amusement.

     You were deep in thought as you rounded the corner and you didn’t see the person right in front of you.

     You ran straight into Spencer and as you collided with him, your coffee drink spilled all down your front as you were knocked to the floor. You quickly picked yourself up off the ground. 

     “I am so sorry,” you rushed, “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

     “It’s all good,” Spencer said, standing up, “I am officially awake now, so I guess I owe you one.”

     You laughed with him but you felt your face getting hot in embarrassment. You looked down at your blouse and found it more brown than it was purple from the coffee. You tried in vain to wipe it off.

     “Damn, I hope that wasn’t a family heirloom too,” Spencer pointed to your shirt, “Here, take my hoodie.”

     He started to pull the sweatshirt over his head as you protested, “No, it’s ok—I’ll be fine. It’s not that bad—it’s kind of a look.”

     “Really, I insist,” Spencer said, handing you his hoodie. “Gives me a chance to show off my anime t-shirt anyway.”

     You took the sweatshirt from him, mumbling your thanks and pulling it over your head.

      Spencer’s scent engulfed you as you put on his warm hoodie and you tried not to get distracted by the way his cologne made you a little bit dizzy. 

      Over the last several days, as you’d been adjusting to your new job, you’d almost forgotten your tiny crush on Spencer. 

     Almost. 

     You’d been so focused on work that you hadn’t really had time to stop and think about your feelings towards your boss. 

     You really enjoyed working with him and he was quickly becoming your favorite person at Smosh—other than Shayne, of course. You sent a silent apology to him in your head.

      And then there were the moments when Spencer would laugh at one of your jokes or compliment you on a task you did or smile shyly at you up through his lashes and you felt all warm inside.

     Like right now—him giving you his hoodie. That brought you out of your reverie as you remembered where you were. Standing in front of the man you were currently lost in thought about.

     “Right, well, I better get back to—” You gestured in front of you, trailing off as you had honestly forgot what exactly you were headed to your office for. 

     “Of course, I wouldn’t want to keep you from—” He gestured in the direction you had, as if the nothing that you had indicated was what needed your attention. 

     You rolled your eyes at him amicably before heading in the direction you had been going. 

     After a quick stop in your office—you hadn’t found what you apparently had been looking for in there. And if while you were in the office by yourself you pulled up the collar of the sweater to your nose for a second or seven, who was there to see you?—you set off for the break room. 

     You saw Shayne sitting at a table with some other cast and crew members and you walked over towards him, plopping down across from him and Erin, an associate producer for Smosh.

     You had gotten to know her a bit throughout these past couple weeks and already felt like you had been friends for months.

     “Hey you,” Shayne greeted, “What’s up?”

     You shrugged. “Oh, you know, same old same old. What’s new with you?”

     “Well, we filmed a TNTL this morning, and I had this new idea for a character. So basically—”

     “(Y/n), is that Spencer’s sweatshirt?” Erin interrupted, her eyes fixed on your top. 

     “Oh, um, yeah,” you told her.

    At the same time Shayne asked, “How do you even know what Spencer wore to work today?” 

     “I’m a woman, we know these things,” Erin paused. “Come on, he wears that thing four times a week, like it’s hard.”

     She turned her gaze back to you. 

     You cleared your throat. “But, yeah, anyways, I spilled coffee on my blouse so he gave me this.”

     Erin raised an eyebrow, “Did he now?”

     “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked her, trying your hardest not to blush. 

     “No reason,” she leaned back, acting casual, “It’s just Dude 101, a guy doesn’t give a girl his hoodie unless he likes her.”

     You scoffed, “That’s crazy, Erin. He was just being nice.”

     This you felt sure about. Whatever your feelings were towards Spencer, you were sure he only though of you as his coworker. 

     Right?

     “Well, it’s obvious you like him,” Erin added, as if that was an absolute fact.

     “What?” You spit out, probably faster and louder than was necessary or convincing.   

     You glanced at Shayne and he raised his arms as if to say, Don’t look at me, my lips have been sealed!

     “I’ve seen the way you act around him, (Y/n). And the way he acts around you.” 

     Was it that obvious that you had a little, tiny crush on Spencer? I mean, you guys got along really well. And we’re constantly making each other laugh. But that just meant you were friends, right? He definitely didn’t act any different around you than he did with anyone else at Smosh, did he? 

     Granted, you hadn’t even been working here three weeks yet and you weren’t one hundred percent sure how he acted around everyone else. But you had no reason to believe it was any different than with you!

     “You’re crazy,” you told Erin.

     “So you deny, it?” She folded her hands on the table in front of her, “You don’t have feelings for Spencer?”

     “Well,” you started. You didn’t want to lie to her, not when you were just starting a friendship. You sighed, lowering your voice so only Erin and Shayne could hear you, “I might have some feelings for—”

     “Spencer!” Shayne said loudly and awkwardly, as if to warn you of his sudden presence behind you.

     You spun around probably too quickly and found yourself looking up at him. 

     “Hi, Spencer,” you said, sincerely hoping he hadn’t overheard any of the previous conversation.

     “Hey (Y/n), long time no see,” he smiled, putting his hands in his pockets. “So, I was wondering, since we’ve got that big project coming up next Wednesday, do you think you’d be able to meet me outside of work to get a head start on it? We could go to a coffee shop or my place or something?”

     He almost looked…nervous asking you to work on a project outside of normal work hours. Probably just figuring you’d decline at sacrificing your free hours.

     You watched as Erin raised an eyebrow and you promptly ignored her. 

     “Yeah sure,” you said, “Sounds like a plan.”

     “Really?” He sounded relieved, “Ok awesome, I’ll text you some dates.”

     “Perfect,” you said, “And it’ll give me a chance to give you back this hoodie once I have other clothes to change into.”

     “Keep it,” Spencer shrugged, looking down “It looks way better on you that it ever did on me anyways.”

     You brushed your hair behind your ears. “I might take you up on that offer.”

     “‘Course you will have to give me something in return,” he said, “I mean, fair’s fair, man.”

     “Naturally,” you looked down at your body to find something suitable, your eyes landing on the scrunchie at your wrist. 

     You handed it to him and he took your offering, slipping the scrunchie into his wrist. 

     “Classy,” he nodded, holding his arm out at different angles to look at it.

     “Very,” you agreed, giggling. 

     You both fell silent and you looked back down at the table. Shayne said something to Spencer and they began a conversation—the chosen, something something—and you were silent until Spencer left the table, laughing at something Shayne had said.  

     Immediately after he exited the room, Erin pounced.

     “Okay what the hell was that?” She asked.

     “What was what?”

     Erin put on a high voice and then a low voice and back again, mimicking your conversation “Oh, hi, Spencer. Hi, (Y/n). Wanna come to my place? Oh, I’d love to. You look so sexy. No you look sexy. Wanna exchange wardrobes?” 

     “Okay, that’s not how any of that went,” you said, but you couldn’t help yourself from smiling.

     “That’s what it sounded like from over here,” Shayne added. “He invited you to his house, man. And he’s gonna text you?”

     You’d exchanged numbers right after you began your job, but you hadn’t actually had many text conversations. You didn’t really think it was a big deal.

     “Yeah, we’ve texted before,” you said, “But don’t think it means anything, so far he’s mostly just sent me memes.”

     “What kind of memes?” Shayne asked, as though this was severely important. 

     “Cat, SpongeBob, the occasional wombat.”

     “Trust me,” he said, “that means something. I’m a psychologist, so I kinda know these things.”                                

“Havingapsychologydegreeisn’tthesameasbeingapsychologist,” Erin coughed into her hand.  

     “You know what—” Shayne started, turning to Erin.

     “Guys,” you interrupted.

     “Right,” Erin agreed, “not the time. What I’m trying to say is, that was flirting Miss (Y/n), whether you like it or not.”

     Had you and Spencer been flirting? You weren’t exactly an expert on the subject, so maybe Erin was right. A part of you definitely hoped that was the case. 

     “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Amanda leaned in from the table next to yours, “But I also think there was definitely flirting going on.”

      You, Shayne, and Erin all turned to look at her.

      “Come on people, you know I like kissing scenes, why should this come as a shock?” She threw up her hands and you laughed.

       “Who’s kissing?” You hadn’t seen Courtney enter the room, but now she came and sat down next to her husband and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

       “We were just talking about how it’s just a matter of time before Spencer and (Y/n) are totally gonna ba—”

      “Erin!” You cut her off, definitely blushing now as Courtney giggled.

      “So you and Spencer, huh?” She asked, smiling. 

      “That’s what these two seem to think,” you gestured to your friends.

     “Not think,” Erin said.

     “We know,” Shayne finished.

     “Fine,” you relented a bit, “I do like him, a little. Well, okay a lot. I guess I like him a lot. He’s smart and sweet and funny and charming and so cute and has great cologne, apparently,” you gestured to the hoodie. You took a deep breath. “And I really really like him.”

     You realized as you said it, that it was true. You’d spent the past couple of weeks trying to convince yourself that you only thought of Spencer as a friend and a coworker. But you realized, the more you talked to your friends, that you really did have feelings for him. That were more than friendly or coworker-ly. 

     Maybe this was something that you really did want. And that could maybe happen. You had felt the connection between you and Spencer, so it was possible he might feel the same way about you.

     Unless you were reading this all wrong and—Oh God, what if you told him how you felt and he rejected you and then you had to work side by side with him in awkwardness forever? 

     “But so what? It’s not as if he feels the same way. I don’t want to make things weird between us,” you finished.

     “Trust me, my guy, he likes you,” Courtney contributed. “I’m married to a psychologist, I know these things.”

     “See!” Shayne crossed his arms triumphantly and Erin rolled her eyes. 

     “Stilldoesn’tcount,” she cough-spoke. 

     “And I’m taking this back!” You said, noticing the ring on Shayne’s middle finger and reaching over to grab it, once and for all. 

     “Anyways,” Courtney finished, “I say tell him how you feel, see where this goes.”

     “I concur,” Shayne said and his wife raised an eyebrow at him. “What? I’ve always wanted to say that!”

     “She’s right,” Erin said, “and by the end of the week you’ll be ban—”

     “Erin!” 

     She merely smirked as she picked up her soda drink and took a sip. 

     “So I just go up and ask Spencer out?” You messed with the drawstrings of your sweatshirt. You were encouraged by your friends’ words, and you really wanted to go up and just do it, but you felt doubt creeping in. 

     “What if I mess up what I’m trying to say?  Or fall on my face walking up to him? Or worse, what if he says no?”

     “He wouldn’t.” You heard his voice first. You looked up and found him walking slowly through the doorway as he kept speaking. “Say no, I mean. If I know him as well as I think I do—and I pride myself on knowing him pretty damn well—then he’d say yes.”        

     He was in front of you now. “Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.”

     You tried to catch your breath as you processed what was happening. “Oh yeah? What else would he say?”

     “Well, uh, he’d probably that he’s attracted to you. And that he wanted to ask you out the moment he met you and is so glad you did it first because now he doesn’t have to continue his poor, pathetic attempts at making a move,” he said, placing a hand in the back of his neck.

     You stood up, coming to stand right in front of Spencer. “When did you come back?” 

     You’d thought he’d walked away a few minutes ago after your conversation had ended. 

     “Never left,” he said, “Bent down to tie my shoe, and then I heard way too many nice things about myself to leave.”

     You giggled, shoving his shoulder. “So humble.”

     “Hey, when you hear someone professing their love for you…” Spencer shrugged. 

     “Ok, that’s not what was happening,” you crossed your arms.

     “I beg to differ,” Erin piped in.

     “Not what it sounded like from our side of the table,” added Shayne. 

     You had forgotten both of them were there. You’d been so caught up in what was happening with Spencer, you’d forgotten anyone was there, actually.

     But as you looked around, you found that everyone currently occupying the break room was stopped to watch the two of you. 

     Angela whooped from a few tables over. 

     “Well since it’s unanimous, apparently,” you joked, “What do you say? Will you go out with me.”

     “I most certainly will,” Spencer said, smiling at you.

     You reached out and took his hand, linking it with yours. He looked at you for a moment before leaning in and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

     You placed your hand where his lips had touched yours. You couldn’t believe this was happening. And you couldn’t wait to see where this went—you and Spencer, you thought. You felt giddy with excitement.

     “Well, I’ll see ya later then,” Spencer said, beginning to walk backwards. “and I already have an idea for our first official date.”

     “And what’s that?”

     “I’m gonna take you to a Payless ShoeSource.”

     “I thought you liked my grandma shoes,” you crossed your arms.

     “(Y/n), I like everything about you,” he said, “but those things have to to go.”      

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this one!! have a lovely week all my spencer girlies 🤭🩰

<— some more spencer fics • next part —>

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Mess in Chat >w^

This is an entry for the Sweet Shroud Summer 2024 event held by the lovely @cloudcountry

Content; Gender-neutral reader, fluff, some swearing here and there

Word Count; 1.8 K

Part 2; Mess at Con

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

Summer was back in full force. Even from within the cold walls and highly air-conditioned hallways of S.T.Y.X. Idia was overheating. He didn’t even have Ortho, since he was powered down to prevent his system from overheating — they both learned that lesson last summer and neither of them were happy not to have the other for three days while Idia was trying to fix him up. So, he was busy typing away at his computer, switching between his actual tasks and the multitude of open tabs that he had open.

Finishing up on reading one of what seemed to be a never-ending pile of reports, Idia took a look at his messages, Mess in Chat >w^ — getting a small smile from the little winky face — and saw that there was a new message … from an hour ago.

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess I’m melting I’ve melted I’m a pool of goop on the floor

Idia tapped his fingers on his keyboard, trying to think of something to say. While he wouldn’t say the two of you were overly friendly, you also weren’t acquaintances. Idia knows that you’re trying to be his friend — dear Sevens, Ortho was so happy when he saw Idia smile at his phone when you messaged him — but it’s hard with being online. 

Would he actually ask to meet in real life? Oh Sevens no! You, the self proclaimed ‘mess’ (Idia wouldn’t even say that you were a mess, just well-meaning and a bit awkward at times) low keyed scared him. Well not actually scare him, but he didn’t want to get too close only for the friendship to blow up in his face.

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess AHA! I CAN SEE THAT YOU’RE ONLINE!

Idia sighed, the jig was up.

Gloomurai I thought you melted into goop Goop can’t type

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess I’ve regained my non-goop form to bug you I’M BOREDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Gloomurai … F

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess DON’T PUT AN F IN THE CHAT WHAT THE HELL … eugh… dying of heatstroke Tell my cat that I love him…. X-X

Idia coughed out a small laugh. He doubted you were as melodramatic IRL as you were online, but it made the monotony of his day — especially now that he didn’t even have the excuse of classes to break it up — a bit better.

Gloomurai You shall be missed CAT CAT PIC PLEASE CAT PIC IN THESE TRYING TIMES

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess … my phone doesn’t have a camera … And he’s on top of the fridge complaining about the heat

Idia sighed, remembering that besides having a laptop for classes, that was the best tech that you had. He remembers you complaining about your lack of funds and your employer. How you managed to balance your job and schooling at the same time baffled and, as you two got closer, worried him.

Gloomurai You really need a better phone

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess I’M A BROKE STUDENT I’M TRYING MY BEST I EVEN HAVE A SECOND JOB

Gloomurai So you’re not only dying of heatstroke but also overworking yourself? F … what’s your second job?

‘WHAT AM I THINKING?! I DON’T KNOW THEM LIKE THAT-’

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess … swan boats …

Gloomurai … swan boats?

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess Swan boats.  Even have a silly uniform and everything The pay is decent though, and I only work weekends UNLIKE MY OTHER JOB-

“We’re going to see them, right?” Ortho asked, making Idia jump.

“OrThO-” Idia squeaked, switching tabs at the speed of light, and clearing his throat. “... no”

Ortho looked at Idia, who was smiling a minute ago and was now back to being jumpy. “But-” he paused, looking between the screen and his brother. He knew who Friendly Neighbourhood Mess was — hard not to when you can see the entirety of Night Raven’s search history — but he also knew his brother. “Just know that they enjoy having you as a friend.”

Idia looked back to his screen, knowing you were going on a tirade about your first boss. “They enjoy having Gloomurai as a friend,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Besides,” he looked back at Ortho,”it would be weird for me to just show up.”

“Not if they invite you.~” Ortho chirped, going back to his room since he could feel his systems starting to overheat again. “They’re your friend online… so why not in person too?”

Idia opened up your tab again, and sure enough, you were on a full blown tirade.

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess I SHOULD REPORT HIS ASS BUT THEN I WON’T HAVE A PLACE TO LIVE- OH WHEN I GRADUATE HIS ASS IS GRASS I TELL YOU-

Gloomurai I’ll bring you one of those lawnmowers you drive

Friendly Neighbour Mess *sniffles* You’re a true friend

Gloomurai So, about your other job…

‘Come on, think of a believable excuse so you don’t look like a loser. THINK! COME ON BRAIN! BE SMART!’

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess Wait Idea

Idia felt his hair warming, but patted it. ‘Get a hold of yourself, it’s just the word idea for Sevens sake!’

I take you for a spin on one of those death traps

Gloomurai I- DEATH TRAPS? NEVERMIND

Friendly Neighbourhood Mess Too late >w^ See you Saturday!

Idia stared at his screen for a bit, processing everything. You had invited him to your work. He was going to meet you IRL. He was going to get in a swan boat, like the one you see in cheesy otome cutscenes and animes, and they were, apparently, death traps.

… why was he excited about it then?

…

…

You were at work, giving your best customer service smile and voice to the kids, families, and couples that came up through the line. “Remember folks to keep on your life jackets at all times, and to keep your arms and legs inside the boat at all times! Enjoy your ride!~”

While yes, you did have to wear an all-white uniform complete with a baseball cap with swan wings, it wasn’t half bad. 

The lunch room was always packed with good food, cold drinks, and the comfiest couch you have ever had the pleasure of plopping down into. Sure, it was a bit embarrassing — Ace had nearly laughed his ass off when he saw you in your get up and the fakely sweet smile you gave him — but it was only for this summer, and only for the weekends. Besides, it was cushy and most importantly, not putting your life into peril every five to seven business days when compared to the job that Crowley had given you.

You were already getting into your little monologue that you’re used to saying to customers when you faltered. “Enjoy your- Idia?” You blinked, surprised to see him. You barely got to see him at school, so seeing him here of all places was a shock to put it lightly.

Idia was fidgeting with the zipper of his life jacket and jumped when you said his name. ‘Y/N? The Ramshackle prefect-’ “... hi?”

“Hi,” you say back. “Umm, sorry, but there has to be two people to a boat,” you say sheepishly.

Idia jumps a bit and accidentally zips some of his hair in the zipper. “I was waiting for a friend…” he mutters, “they, uh, work here?”

You pause and your eyes widen. “YOU!”

“Me?!” Idia blinked rapidly. “Wait, you?!” Idia put the pieces together.

The lamenting about your first job. The complaints about your cat stealing your food. The silly uniform for your second job — which is silly, but you make it work. And the way you spoke online matched how you spoke with your IRL friends.

“You’re Friendly Neighbourhood Mess-”

“You’re Gloomurai!”

You both say it at the same time. You offer him a bright smile before saying something quietly into your walkie-talkie and putting on a bright yellow life jacket.

“Well,” you chuckle, “good thing you have a friend that’s willing to get on one of these death traps with you then!”

Idia let you take the lead before stumbling into the boat. “You probably shouldn’t call these ‘death traps’ since you work here,” he offered lightly.

You helped stabilize him since he was struggling to stand due to the light waves. “Well, they are, my land-loving friend.”

Idia sat down quickly, trying not to get flustered by the skin contact but failing. “Then I p-probably shouldn’t be on here, should I?”

“Nope,” you popped the p at the end and started moving the boat with the hand pedals. “But it takes two people to move these things.”

Idia started pedalling with you, and despite his fears of you wanting to make idle small talk, you didn’t. Instead, you pointed out some favourite spots and allowed him to contribute to the conversation at his own pace. Even though it idled here and there, it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable.

When you sailed (can it even be called sailing when it’s a swan boat?) under the canopy of a weeping willow, you spoke again. “So, why did you agree to meet me? Let alone in one of these?”

Idia looked at you again, the dappled lighting blocking out the heat of the sun, yet he felt warmer now than before. “I don’t know, just,” he breathed in, centring himself, “I guess I wanted to spend time with a friend.” He smiled then, it was a small thing, but it was genuine. “Also,” he coughed, “you lied about the death trap part about this whole thing.”

You laughed, shaking the boat a little. “Oh it is, if not physically, then, reputation-wise. Death to social life via swan boat.”

Idia snorted. ‘Well, good thing that I don’t … didn’t have one then.’ “Good thing there’s someone who knows what they’re doing then… you do know what you’re doing, right?”

You shrugged, “I have a certificate if that eases your mind a bit.”

And the two of you continued paddling away, chatting here and there before heading back to the dock where a few of your coworkers gave the both of you thumbs-ups and winks. Idia felt himself go warm, whereas you rolled your eyes at them before helping Idia out.

“If you don’t mind, want to do this again?” You asked, undoing your lifejacket, looking expectantly towards him.

Idia fumbled with his own before you helped him out. “... that would be fun,” he smiled.

You smiled back, patted him on the shoulder as he walked away, and went back to greeting customers again.

Idia was happy about how today went, even though he would wake up a lovely shade of lobster red tomorrow and a very curious Ortho, but for the first time in a while, he was looking forward to summer vacation, and having some of it be outside of his computer screen. And, most importantly, have a friend that he didn’t feel like he had to be someone else with.

~~~~~~~

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog, @bloomstruck, @edith-is-a-cat, @eynnwwyjth, @inkybloom-luv, @ithseem, @lucid-stories, @syrenkitsune, @the-v-lociraptor, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[heliads]

You and Me (A Whole Lot of History)

Based on this request: "y/n is a historian with access to old schematics so kaz hires her for a job. he keeps inventing reasons to find her afterwards until he’s forced to admit his feelings"

masterlist

You only get to study about half a chapter of your textbook before you’re interrupted by a criminal. It’s not like you mind having to put down the heavy tome you’ve been leafing through; estate law of centuries past is not your idea of some fun light reading, but you’ve been helping to piece together some fragments of an old mansion from pre-Unsea Kerch, and you’d really like to be able to decide if the master of the house your tattered documents keep referring to is the eldest son or the second eldest. 

It all depends on very specific details that refuse to make themselves known to you. So no, having an excuse to stop all this isn’t terrible, you’re just a little distracted by the fact that you’re in a private study room in the historical library of Ketterdam, and you know for certain that you locked the door that has just been opened.

You know who’s just broken into your study space. Not personally, that is, but just as well as any resident of the Barrel knows the one they call Dirtyhands– through bated breath, in stolen whispers of expensive heists and bodies left behind, no traitors tolerated and none allowed to live. The fact that Kaz Brekker has taken it upon himself to enter your study room of all the empty ones still available in the library is not promising, to say the least, although you have absolutely no idea what you’ve done to appear on his radar.

You are, in fact, quite possibly the last person Kaz would even be aware of. You’re a historian, specializing in a few select centuries and powerful families in the Kerch area. This means that you spend most of your time in old and crumbling buildings, not out in shady dealings or shootouts or any of the other places Brekker tends to frequent.

This doesn’t seem to stop Kaz from closing the door behind him and taking a seat opposite your desk. He folds his hands in front of him, idly contemplating the textbook you’re still supposed to be perusing, but remains frustratingly silent.

It falls to you, then, to pick up a conversation, which is unfair considering the fact that he’s the one who’s barged in on your space. “That door was locked for a reason, you know,” you point out.

Kaz arches a dour brow. “Yes. I opened it.”

He’s not making this easy for you. “Why?” You ask.

Instead of answering you, Brekker jerks his chin towards the book in front of you. “What’s that about?”

There is no earthly reason one of the most notorious gang leaders in the Barrel should be asking about the homework you’re doing for your job. Still, he has, so you must answer, no matter how confused you are about it. “Inheritance disputes of the fourteenth century Kerch nobles. Why, are you interested in checking it out after me?”

Kaz scoffs. “No. I just want your information, not that book.”

You feel yourself leaning back slightly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Trust me, whatever information you’re after won’t be found from me.”

Kaz shakes his head once. “No, actually, I think it will be.”

He reaches for something under his coat, and you’re hit with the brief terror that he’ll get a gun or something and you’ll die here and now, but then his gloved hand comes back out into the light carefully holding a rolled up piece of paper, which he smooths out onto the desk before you. You tuck your textbook away so you can get a better look at the thing, more curious now than afraid.

It turns out to be a copy of house blueprints. As you study it, you realize that you recognize the place. You were there recently for a project for your employer, checking up on the preservation of a few rooms. “Is this the old van Haarst mansion?” 

Brekker’s eyes flash, reminding you of the slick of oil on water. “You know about it?”

“Yeah,” you say, peering further at the blueprints. “I’ve worked there before.”

Kaz nods, looking pleased. “I’d like to buy your services. I need information on this building and your silence on the matter. Are you interested?”

Your brow furrows. “What information do you need?”

To answer you, Brekker tosses a stack of kruge onto the table. You can see the numbers on the edges, and know even without counting that this payment will be far more than what you’d earn even for a year at your job. This is the deal, then. He’ll only tell you more if you accept his money, and if you accept his money, you agree to whatever he wants.

Honestly, not the worst bargain. Ghezen knows you’ve had worse supervisors on other jobs. At least you can trust Brekker to be honest so long as you are too.

You put the stack of bills into your bag, and turn back to the blueprints with renewed interest. “Are you trying to get in or get out?”

“Both,” Kaz tells you. “I’m assuming you’ve heard rumors of Marysa’s Diamond?”

You choke out a laugh. “Have I ever.”

Marysa’s Diamond is like the Saints in flesh for historians. The van Haarst family was exceedingly rich, and one of their matriarchs, Marysa van Haarst, was said to be in possession of an incredible gemstone, the diamond named after her. It disappeared when the family abandoned Kerch for Ravka following the death of three of Marysa’s sons, and no one has seen it since.

You blow out a low breath. “You think it’s in the old house somewhere? Historians have been all over the place, we would have found it if it was there.”

“It wasn’t always,” Kaz tells you. “It’s been moved there. I have good information that the van Haarst house will act as a safe house for the stone while it’s being moved from hand to hand. They’ll keep it there overnight. I will be entering the estate with a team and taking it.”

He goes silent, as if waiting for any objections. You don’t really care about the morals of the affair, though. You have your money and you get to be the foremost expert on a historical favorite of yours. Robberies happen every day, not something to get teary eyed over.

When you don’t speak up, Kaz continues on. “They’ll be keeping the stone in a place no one can find. There will be a window of exactly one bell in which the old owner leaves the house and is replaced by the new owner, carefully staggered so the stadwatch aren’t alerted by too many people in the estate after hours. That means it would have to be a damn good hiding spot. If you were hiding a gemstone in this house, where would you put it?”

You consider the blueprints before you again. There are a thousand and one places you could hide something in there– tucked inside the grand piano, in a safe, under one of a hundred carpets– and there’s no way Brekker’s men could find it in time.

However, that means the person meant to be picking up the diamond wouldn’t be able to find it as well. They would have to find somewhere in the estate hidden to everyone else but the recipient of the gemstone.

The answer occurs to you in a flash. “Oh,” you say, “Secret room.”

Brekker blinks at you. “What?”

You point at the map. “It’s totally going in the secret room. I mean, they don’t want it to be found by anyone else, right? That’s, like, the whole point of a secret room.”

Were it not for the fact that he’s, well, Dirtyhands, you’d swear his voice turns sarcastic. “That was my understanding of a secret room, yes. Where is it?”

Were it not for the fact that he is in fact Dirtyhands, you would roll your eyes. “There’s an entrance off of the secondary hallway leading off of the dining room. Unlock the door using a little latch under the bottom of the ugly painting of the old duchess of Belendt.”

He stares at you. “How do you know that? It’s not on any map.”

You lift a shoulder. “I wanted to know why they’d keep such a foul portrait around. The elites of that time period were huge on perfectionism, every one of their paintings had to be absolutely glorious or it would get removed from their sight. That’s why there are so many old paintings in the surrounding villages, actually, the nobles would just leave these expensive oil paintings outside the castle because they couldn’t take the sight of them anymore. There was no reason they’d let such a dreadful portrait stay unless it was hiding something.”

You had been focused on the map in your hands during the majority of this little speech, fondly recalling little anecdotes from your history classes, but you remember yourself soon enough. You look up and Kaz is staring at you, almost fascinated.

You feel your cheeks heat up. “Sorry, I’m rambling. Got distracted.”

He shakes his head brusquely, although there’s a hint of pink on the tops of his cheekbones that wasn’t there before. “No, no. It’s important information. So we should be aware of any suspicious paintings?”

“Yeah,” you muse, “just look for the bad ones. Pretend you’re an art critic or something.”

The edges of Kaz’s dour glare turn themselves up into something of a humored smirk. “Will do. Thank you for the advice, L/N.”

You nod. “Have fun with the heist. Hey, if you see any older books on the history of the family, would you mind grabbing one or two for me? I’ve been trying to do some research for ages, but the library keeps stalling on getting resources to me, no matter how many requests I send.”

Kaz’s brows draw close together. “That would be unbelievably risky. We can’t take more things than we need or we could be caught.”

You grin. “I know, I’m kidding. Just a joke.”

Kaz’s expression lightens microscopically. “Yes, a joke.”

He leaves soon enough, pushing his chair away from the desk and rolling up the blueprints with a crisp snap of the paper. He warns you to keep your mouth shut about the plans, but you’re not sure that he does it with the fire you expected of a notorious gang leader. Instead, the words are soft, like he’s cautioning a friend.

You don’t hear from him again, not for a while. You’re not sure when this mysterious diamond deal is going down, and you doubt the unlucky men Kaz will grift can go to the stadwatch about this. In fact, you have no idea if it’s happened at all until about a week later. You had gone about your day like normal, not suspecting a thing until the moment you unlocked your door.

And there, centered perfectly on your desk when you get back home despite the fact that you never gave keys to your apartment to anyone, are three books. Aged, cracked covers, gilded writing. You hesitantly pick up one and read the title under your breath:  A History of the Bendtsen Family, 1200-1500. Another:  The van Almelos of the Belendt Region:  Two Centuries of Political and Economic Legacy.

Kaz. He actually got the books. Never mind that you were joking, never mind that he knew that, Kaz Brekker went out of his way to risk a heist just so he could help you out with a research project. Saints. And they say chivalry is dead.

You don’t expect to get the chance to thank him for it until he randomly crosses your path not two weeks later. He’s alone again, miraculously turning up outside your company door just as you leave to walk home. Kaz informs you that he’ll need your services again, exchanging some kruge for more words. This time, he wants details on an office building down the street, one that used to be a city hall. You’re able to take him in yourself thanks to access granted to all historians for historic places, and turn a blind eye when he grabs a few documents regarding interport commerce.

He walked you to your door that night, lingering over the threshold like a teenager not wanting to leave a first date. He shows up again after a month, using an excuse that’s less polished and more finicky. The next time, he doesn’t have an excuse at all. It’s just him, standing in front of you. No money, no plan. He just wanted to see you.

Kaz calls it ‘checking up on an investment,’ but you get the feeling that it’s not something he usually does. He walks with you by the water, he buys you drinks at a bar not even in his own pocket. It’s unusually sweet, so you can’t bite back your questions anymore and confront him about it when he hovers in front of your door for the dozenth time.

“What is this about, Kaz?”

He blinks at you in surprise. “What?”

You gesture between the two of you. “All of this. This isn’t for a job anymore. Why?”

Kaz looks away. It’s rare for him to not have a perfect poker face. Perhaps it’s yet another sign that this means something more, something that you can’t help but wish for. “I wanted to make sure you were safe. I’ve called on you for several jobs that can risk the players involved in the game.”

You shake your head. “You’ve gone out of your way to make sure no one knows about me. It’s just us, Kaz. You did that on purpose.”

“Yes,” he admits at last, “I did. I wanted something for myself. Something that wasn’t as bad as the rest.”

He risks a glance over at you, and his shoulders square slightly when he realizes you aren’t trying to fight him on this, or worse, leave. “You’re good, Y/N. Good things don’t last long around here. I want to make sure you do. I want you to stay forever.”

With me, he means. He wants to keep you in his life. His eyes flicker to your hands, and although you know he won’t take them, not yet, he wants to. That’s why you finally put together the pieces. Kaz Brekker is not good at verbalizing his feelings. Perhaps he never will be. This is the best shot he can give you, and he could not even say the word ‘love’ if it ripped his heart out with bleeding fingertips.

You've had so much over the years, and it has never been enough. Not once, not ever. A thousand coffers could empty themselves, a hundred men die and be reborn. It has never once stopped you. This, by contrast, is nothing. A canal rat's promise, most likely broken before the night is through. You know it, Kaz knows it. This is nothing. 

Yet it is the most true thing you have ever had, the one solid stone in a wall about to come crumbling down. It is small, barely there at all, but still worth it. Maybe that is why you stay, for the hope. For him. It is enough.

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