#however. a coworker is leaving and her position is not one that can be left empty

[hirazuki]

Ugh, I really want to finish editing this chapter so I can keep my posting streak going (9 weeks straight!), but my head is so full of work-related information that I am literally buzzing; vibrating at high speed.

Here's hoping that going to bed will help the storage space in my brain and I can work on it tomorrow T_T

[sleepynoons]

ONLY BY LEE HI – jing yuan (hsr) x gn!reader, modern!au, sfw

genre – fluff, angst word count – ~2,100 warnings – mentions of emotional cheating + divorce synopsis – although it's been years since your divorce, some part of you is still afraid to be in a relationship again. what does it actually mean to love someone, and are you capable of it?

The atmosphere and the situation you’re in are jarring, dissonant, mildly uncomfortable, as if two disjoint parts of your life are colliding. And you’re not that far off the mark – it’s definitely a rare occurrence for a sole employee to be having dinner with their boss. In fact, throughout all of your years working under the same man, you can’t remember a single time the two of you were alone, aside from check-in meetings and project discussions, but those interactions don’t really count because they were all in the office.

You can’t even bring yourself to sip from your beer mug, frosted from condensation, golden bubbles sizzling to the surface and reflecting the glaring lights hanging from the ceiling. You can only watch with a tamed face and bated breath as your boss, in all his suited and charismatic glory, rattles off a list of menu items to the waiter.

“Is that enough?” 

Your boss turns around, gleaming silver ponytail swishing behind him, so that he’s fully facing you when he asks his question.

You simply nod, at which the waiter takes his leave.

Now that there’s only the two of you, you wonder how awkward this dinner will turn out to be. You’re not the most vocal, and even if you were, you don’t particularly care for or have the talent to come up with small talk. But it seems that worry's speedily addressed because your boss, with his large hands yet stealthy fingers, hums as he begins to pick away at the pickled vegetables and roasted peanuts with his chopsticks.

He just munches and snacks, until there’s none left in his dishes, and you push your small plates towards him.

“Are you sure you don’t want any?”

You shake your head, and with a delighted chirp of thanks, he quickly chows through your portions as well.

Compared to your quiet booth, the rest of the restaurant is boisterous and rowdy. You can hear the karaoke rooms at the back, drunken singing and screaming bleeding through wooden walls, and the parties sitting around – families, couples, friend groups – are cracking jokes, nagging at each other about table manners, dropping utensils. Clearly, this place is more suited for celebratory events or just a good time, but definitely not for business operations.

The comedy of your current circumstances only compounds. Actually, upon reflection, it's hitting you that this last week of your life has been laughable in a pitiable, disorienting way. 

Around this same time last week, your boss had called for an emergency team meeting before everyone clocked out, none other than to ask for a volunteer to accompany him on a last-minute business trip and work overtime during Christmas. Of course, no one, including yourself, wanted to, especially given the risk of the trip being extended due to the weather. However, unlike your coworkers, you didn’t have an excuse other than the fact that you wanted to stay home, eat junk food, and binge-watch dramas. After all, they all had romantic dates to go on or family gatherings to attend to, and you didn't, especially after your divorce.

You could feel the side glances, the shuffling of feet, the unanimous holding of breaths in the conference room, and you waited for three more long, torturous seconds before you finally sighed and raised your hand to opt for the position. The only good thing that came out of that was your boss' gleaming smile, solely directed to you.

You bitterly complained about the meeting to your work friend afterwards.

“We don't usually eat on my floor. What's going on?”

You looked over your shoulder to see your work friend, Fu Xuan, walk over and take a seat beside you, setting down her lunch box and a plastic bottle of green tea onto the table.

You glanced around, making sure no one else was present. When the coast seemed clear, you leaned close to her ear.

You muttered, “Just tired of all the talk going around. Can’t have any privacy over there.”

Fu Xuan huffed and crossed her arms. “You can say that again. I was already on my way to your office when I heard the gossip from your break room.”

“What are they saying?”

“Probably the same things you’re hearing.”

You slumped into your seat, resting your elbows and forehead on the cool surface of the table. Fu Xuan’s hand came to pat you on the back.

“Is it so bad to be divorced?” you grumbled.

Fu Xuan sighed. “Not at all,” she affirmed, “especially in your case.”

Fu Xuan’s the only person in the office that you would consider a friend, so naturally, she’s the only one who knows some of the details regarding your last relationship.

“You did what you had to do,” Fu Xuan continued. “It was the right decision.”

“I know,” you groaned. “I just still feel guilty, and everyone’s still throwing a pity party, and it's not helpful because I've been feeling like a complete loser.”

“They’re being ridiculous. It's been, what? Two years at this point?Besides, doesn’t this work out in your favor?”

You shot her a pointed glare. She simply harrumphed in response.

“Fu Xuan, nothing’s going to happen. I’ve been working here for years, and nothing has happened.”

“Only because you were married for most of said years.”

“Still. Nothing has happened since the divorce.”

“Alright, you’re being ridiculous, too,” Fu Xuan concluded.

You hissed, lunging at her. “I’m the one being ridiculous? You’re here, trying to delude me!"

Fu Xuan skillfully dodged your attempt, and instead, managed to grab your face in place so that the two of you were glaring eye to glaring eye. "I'm not," she insists. "In the few meetings I've been in with him, he always finds a way to bring you up, and don't get me started on the look on his face when he talks about you. Also, didn't you tell me he dropped off some medicine at your place that one time you were sick?"

You shook your head. "He just does all that because I do good work, instead of giving him more things to worry about."

“Either way,” Fu Xuan gritted through a thin smile, “enjoy your trip with your boss. Merry early Christmas, you fool.”

Upon reflection, you begrudgingly have to admit that you agree with your friend on several fronts.

Yes, your coworkers are being dramatically awkward, and yes, this business trip can probably fuel a lifetime of daydreams about your boss.

But sometimes, you're not sure if you're over your divorce yourself.

You separated from your partner because they were emotionally cheating on you. They had never really realized it themself, but you could tell they were meeting the same colleague every few weeks or so with feelings and intentions that extended beyond platonic.

To be fair, you can’t really bring yourself to blame your ex either. You’ve always had a more reserved and conservative nature, so it’s not easy for you to say or do anything affectionate. Your ex had always seemed fine with it, and never once brought it up as a concern when the two of you decided to get married for the sake of it. But upon reflection, there had always been some distance, some measured level of politeness, between the two of you, and it only grew as you were promoted in work and, thus, spent more time in the office. Even on days off, you barely spent time together, not when you were busy recuperating sleep and energy. Needless to say, you were quite absent in your marriage, and you can’t fault your partner for seeking comfort in another person.

You put an end to it, for both of your sakes. But ever since, you’ve questioned whether you’ve truly experienced love – if you’re even capable of loving someone at all.

In fact, saying you loved your ex feels… off. You definitely cherished and cared for them as a person, but if someone asked you why you loved your partner at the time, you would have trouble coming up with an answer. Maybe your ability to love is only limited to that.

Still, what’s making you think otherwise is…

The clattering of ceramic plates against the tabletop jolts you from your reminiscence. All of the dishes your boss had ordered have arrived, and you can barely make out his face from all of the rising steam.

“Don’t hold back! My treat, for all of your hard work,” he encourages.

You shake your head, replying, “Not at all,” and you watch as your boss swallows a mouthful of piping hot white rice and scoops spoonfuls of boiled tofu and pork onto his plate.

Honestly, you could get full just from watching him eat. More than that, you think you’d even give him all of your own portions if it meant that he could continue to eat so happily and cheerily.

And that’s exactly the thing. This… crush? Infatuation? Love?

Is this love? Because if it is, it feels so different – far more consuming and overwhelming – from even the faintest rushes of adrenaline and excitement you experienced from your ex. And you’re having these emotions for your boss, of all people.

You can’t lie to yourself for much longer. You know the real reason why you didn’t want to go on this business trip.

It’s inappropriate to date in the office. It’s risky to have to deal with power dynamics. It’s stressful to find new jobs, if you two started to date. Wait, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

You take a bite here and there, to mimic a performance of actually gorging yourself, but your eyes are trained on him. As the steam dissipates, you notice the slight beads of sweat forming at his temple, the flick of his tongue as he licks his glossy lips, and the reddening of his cheeks from the spice and heat.

You knew this trip would break down all sense of self-control.

It’s hard to maintain discipline when, for the past 72 hours, your heart has been tortured to its limits. You saw him when he was sleeping on the five-hour bullet trains to and from your destination. You helped him adjust his tie when you noticed it was astray, which required you to lean in close enough to smell the lingering scent of his cologne. The two of you were even mistaken for a couple by a barista, which neither of you denied because the coffee shop was running a Christmas discount for couples and families. He even called to wake you up from your nap, voice barely more than a deep purr, gentle and teasing and lilting, and you still think that was the best wake-up call, literally, in your life.

If anything, it’d be ridiculous if your defenses weren’t so worn down already, and you know you don’t have that kind of mental strength in the first place, no matter how stoic your exterior might appear.

You don’t even look away when he catches you staring. With a tilt of his head, he asks if you’re alright, at which you nod again, but there’s no way he doesn’t see you gulp.

If these feelings, in all of their riveting, painful, confusing glory, are love, you never want to have them for anyone else ever again.

The rest of the dinner proceeds the same, but it’s midnight by the time the two of you finish.

“Good night, Boss,” you say as you give a small bow.

You had expected him to dismiss you with a laidback wave, but instead, he says, “Wait.”

You quirk an eyebrow, and he chuckles. “It’s late. I can’t have one of my most senior employees getting kidnapped.”

“I’m no child, Boss.”

Regardless of your reservations, he proceeds to call a cab, with the first stop being your place. As soon as the car reaches the front of your apartment complex, you hop out.

But it seems your boss is subverting all of your expectations of him and his character tonight.

He gets out as well, telling the driver to give him a minute or two, and walks over to you.

“Boss, you don’t have to wait for me. The entrance is right there.”

He laughs, broad shoulders jumping a little. “It’s not for that.”

He unravels the red scarf wrapped around his neck and leans forward, beginning to wind the wool and cashmere around you instead.

It’s so late. You’re so tired. You don’t have energy to put up any pretenses.

For the first time, you lose your cool in front of your boss. You’re a flustering, bumbling mess, taking clumsy steps backwards, to no avail because he’s holding you hostage with the scarf.

“It’s cold – what are you – I don’t need –“

“A belated merry Christmas,” he mumbles with a small smile. Instead of its usual brilliance, though, it’s gentle and soft, as fragile and fleeting as snow. “For a very special someone,” he finishes.

He leans back once he’s done. You glance down, hands coming up to grip at the thick cloth. “But Boss…,” you mumble, a little muffled, “I didn’t get you anything.”

“No, no, you already did.”

“What?”

But he’s already rounding his way back. You don’t move from your spot, watching as the car pulls away and as your boss turns around, giving you his signature lackadaisical wave through the rear window, before he’s out of sight.

Mouth agape, you look back down at the scarf, only then noticing a small gold embroidering at one end of it.

Jing Yuan, it reads.

You can't resist the urge to bury your face into the plush and warmth of the scarf.

Without a doubt, you’re in love with your boss, Jing Yuan.

winter event masterlist

[it-was-summer]

Nevertheless (I'm In Love With You) 〰 1

A/N: Basically, it's a broken-up little fluff piece! This is after Season 15, but I'm pretending that he is a full-time professor who occasionally assists the team with cases. Most of the time, professors DO NOT sub for each other, but hey its fanfiction man. THESE ARE MY BARBIES!!! I hope you enjoy it!

Link to the Ao3: Nevertheless (I'm In Love With You) Link to the: Yee olde masterlist You are on: Enemies (if you can call it that) -> Friends (Associates at best) Tags: Use of She/Her pronouns (I apologize), slight enemies, genuinely a short and sweet little slice before y'all let me cook, mentions of victimology, violence, forensics mentioned FOR A MOMENT, ugly Christmas sweater? College talk? Embezzlement mention guys!

Genre: Slight Enemies to friends to lovers. ForensicsProfessor!Reid x ForensicsProfessor!Reader

Plot: Your new coworker, Dr. Spencer Reid, has a talent for avoiding teaching responsibilities, thereby leaving the duties to you. However, forgiveness is easily given when he makes a little effort.

Word Count: 2,966

Enemies (If You Can Call It That)

You didn’t like this new professor. It wasn’t because of change– you usually welcomed change, especially if that change was a new person coming into your life. People typically describe you as kind, passionate, and empathetic. But you strongly disliked fickle people, fair weather, and unpredictable people never sat right with you. You arrive at events on time, and the older you get, the more you view tardiness as a sign of slight disrespect. But this was on another level. 

From your understanding, three professors were teaching Victimology 6113 this Fall semester: you, Dr. Matthew, and Dr. Reid. Sometimes, you would teach introductory courses— Criminology, Criminal Justice, the basics. However, this Fall semester, you were only teaching three: Victimology 6113, Violence and the Family 2184, and Psychopathology 6104. 

Dr. Reid and Dr. Matthew taught their Victimology courses on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. You had opted for the other, slightly longer option, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Sure, you still had an influx of graduate students, but not as much as your male counterparts. Your classes were an hour longer to compensate for the lost time of only having classes twice a week instead of three. 

You liked that kind of schedule, the ability to have more time on Fridays or Mondays to grade papers or fix lesson plans. You had kept it consistent since taking up the position two years ago and were happy to keep it that way. 

So… when Dr. Matthew asked you to fill in for one of Dr. Reid’s Victimology classes on a random Wednesday, you were initially happy to help. You didn’t mind helping out your slightly new coworker. He had done seminars at the university in the past, and when he left the Behavioral Analysis Unit, he took up a position teaching Forensic Psychology. That was all you knew about him, though, other than his name and BAU reputation. 

His graduate students were learning the same material as yours, so it wasn’t difficult to fill in– this one time. 

Then, Dr. Matthew asked for assistance again—this time for an afternoon Friday class. The last time you covered for Dr. Reid, you assumed it was a one-off— a coworker needing a hand. You didn’t think of it when you agreed for the second time. 

Then there was a third…, a fourth, a fifth, and eventually a sixth. You had tried to get out of the fifth time, deciding that enough was enough and that Dr. Reid would have to find his own substitute and not let Dr. Matthew do all his dirty work for him.  However, when you used the excuse that you were behind on lesson plans, Dr. Matthew simply said you could borrow some of his material if needed. 

It wasn’t even halfway through the fall semester, and by the end of September, you had covered at least fourteen classes for this man– your coworker with whom you barely had a relationship. It was getting ridiculous. 

Consistent behavior reflects character, and all you could think of as you walked to his classroom that fifteenth time was Dr. Reid’s character was lacking consideration. It almost seemed cruel at this point. 

At first, you thought you were being dramatic, but then it hit you. You were doing extra work for a class that wasn’t yours—answering questions for students who weren’t in your cohorts. You had every right to be upset with the situation! So, it was natural that your feelings for your supposed coworker were… cold. 

When you did see him, in faculty meetings or passing, you kept your gaze off him with a fast pace in your step. A small, more rational voice in your head suggested that you were being rude or petty. But the more you thought about it, the more you decided that you weren’t. You were a graduate professor with your PhD, the same as Dr. Reid. You had the same amount of classes as him, similar students, and experience in the field (though, in this case, yours was forensically based, but experience nonetheless). You could keep a schedule; you were rarely tardy and rarely canceled classes unless absolutely necessary. Why couldn’t he do the same? 

When October faded into November, you prepared for busier office hours. You were unaware that Dr. Reid did as well. You were also surprised that his office was across the hall from yours. His blinds were closed, but his light was on, and you could see the occasional shadow of him and a student. 

Bitter thoughts surfaced as you stared at the shadows in his office. His students would indeed have questions; he was never teaching! You bit the inside of your cheek at the nasty thought and hung your head for a moment, instead trying to focus on a small stack of ungraded papers. 

Lost in thought, the knock on your door frame made you jump. With wide eyes, you found yourself staring at one of Dr. Reid’s students, and behind him was Dr. Reid himself. “Excuse me,” the student said gently, entering your office. “You mentioned some victim advocacy programs in DC the other day while subbing for Dr. Reid, and I was wondering if you could recommend a program?” 

You pause, thinking briefly before your lips form a slight ‘o’, and nod, “Yes, of course!” You grab a pen and sticky note, writing as you speak, “DC SAFE has a great volunteer program!” You smile as you write the number of an associate of yours who primarily talks with the volunteers. 

Walking around your desk, you hand the sticky note to the student. “Just call that number and tell them I sent you,” You smile as the student thanks you and walks away, but after a brief moment, you realize Dr. Reid is still in the hallway, just staring at you. His big brown eyes seem more hazel under the fluorescent lights of the hallway, and he’s very tall. Was he this tall the last time you saw him? Then again, you don’t think he has ever been close enough for you to notice. 

You force an awkward smile, “Can I help you?” 

He swallows, his brown eyes nervously scanning your face. “No, I mean, yes. I didn’t—" he sighs softly. “I was unaware that your office was near mine—your office hours differ from mine.” 

You draw your lips into a tight line, nodding as your hand motions to your desk. “Yes, we appear to be neighbors.” 

Then, more silence. You watch as he nervously shifts his weight on his feet, his brows knit together, and he opens his mouth to say something when one of your students pokes her head around the corner. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but could I… go over some material with you?” 

You feel your tight chest lighten as you nod, barely glancing at Dr. Reid as you reach for your door. “Have a nice day, Dr. Reid.” You mutter as your student shuffles past you, and the door shuts in his face. 

The knot in Spencer’s stomach twists as he stands outside Dr. Matthew’s office. All those months ago, all Dr. Matthew had told him about his first absence was that he had it covered. For some reason, Spencer assumed that Dr. Matthew would teach his classes if the BAU needed a consultation. He did not know that it had been you. 

He wasn’t bothered that it was you, no. You were brilliant, competent, and courteous. He observed that his students were grasping concepts well, even with his absences, which he could now credit to your teaching abilities. You excelled at your work. He had praised Dr. Matthew when it had been you all along!

The student visiting him during his office hours had revealed it to him, and everything started to make sense. You were polite but obviously avoiding him. He had taken note of it in September but thought he was simply overthinking it. 

He bites his lip gently as he waits for the door to open. His eyes meet Dr. Matthew’s, and the older man frowns. “Spencer, is there a case? I’ve told you before, that you needn’t—” 

“No,” Spencer says, holding up his hands. “I just wanted to talk to you about who’s been covering my classes.” 

Dr. Matthew looks bewildered as he mutters your name in a confused tone, asking, “What seems to be the problem?”

“Well, technically, there isn’t a problem.” Spencer watches how Dr. Matthew’s face relaxes, “I was just unaware she was covering for me.” 

“Ah, well, not to worry, she’s very good– wonderful!” He fixes his last choice of words and repeats it, “Wonderful!” Before Spencer can say more, Dr. Matthew shakes his finger– an idea brewing. “You know, she’s around your age! I’m sure the two of you could be great friends– might have plenty in common.” 

“Right, well I–” 

The sharp ringing of the older man’s phone cuts Spencer off. Pulling it out, he frowns and holds up a finger before saying quickly, “Sorry, I have to take this.” Then he retreats into his office and shuts the door behind him, leaving Spencer alone in the hall. 

Spencer finds himself frowning at the dark oak door before returning to his office in defeat. By the time he’s back in his office, he can see you’re gone, and his apology will have to wait another time. 

It’s a Wednesday, and you can feel it in the air—the dreaded anticipation of Dr. Matthew knocking on your door and asking for another favor. You struggle to find an excuse. You’re ahead of grading, lesson plans, everything. You puff out your cheeks as you enter the lecture hall, passing empty seats as you approach the front of the room. 

Setting your bag on the desk, you pull a chair up and get to work setting up. Then… you spot a yellow sticky note stuck to the whiteboard. At first, you brush it off as another teacher forgetting to clean up after themselves. Your fingers pluck it away from the whiteboard, ready to toss it in the trash, and then you see your name written in messy handwriting. 

Your eyes narrow as you bring the note closer to read it. Your name is scrawled in the top left corner, followed by a comma and ‘I truly appreciate you stepping in to cover my classes right before finals. Though it may not be much, there is a chocolate croissant in my office fridge with your name on the bag.– Dr. Spencer Reid’

You blink, then reread it, and again, and again. Then you find yourself briefly smiling, then frowning, then shaking your head, and tossing the note out. Your eyes briefly stay glued to the note in the bin before you finish setting up for class. 

Spencer is happy to see that said chocolate croissant is missing from his mini-fridge when he’s in his office the next day. He moves to sit at his desk when he sees a pink note on the back of his chair. 

‘Dr. Reid, Bribery is low class– no matter how delicious.’ 

Spencer feels his lips quirk up into a smile, holding the note in his hand as he sits. Then, he finds himself doing something surprising, saving it. He places the pink sticky note in his desk drawer, pulling out his yellow sticky notes while he’s at it.

His foot taps under his desk momentarily, and his pen hovers over the colorful paper. He writes a quick message and finds himself quickly waltzing over to his door, opening it, peeking his head to scan the hall, and gently sticking the note on your office door as fast as possible. 

Friday, the construction near your apartment makes it too hard to concentrate, so you head in to get some well-needed work done. When you see the yellow note, it’s barely hanging onto the door, but you can now place the messy handwriting as Dr. Reid’s. 

‘What form of corruption is considered high class?’

You huff out a laugh as you open your office door, tucking the note into a drawer without thinking. You’re eager to turn on your desktop, but as you grade assignments, your mind wanders. 

Your eyes trail over to the pink notes on the edge of your desk. You glance at your screen, then the paper. Your intrusive thoughts win, your fingers wrapping around a pen as you scribble an answer to Dr. Reid. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip as you run across the hall to place the note on his door. 

Spencer finds himself, surprisingly, excited on Monday morning as he spots a pink note on his office door. He doesn’t even unlock his door. Instead, he stands reading the note with an amused smile. You wrote the word ‘Embezzlement’ in large, neat letters and nothing more. 

However, due to the lack of words, he finds it unnecessary to write a note back. Though, he supposes he’s not obliged to. He tucks the pink note with the other one at his desk and works on some end-of-semester grades. However, his mind occasionally wonders about the office across the hall and if you’re inside. 

At the end of the year faculty ‘party,’ Spencer finds himself feeling rather tongue-tied. Dressed in a thick grey sweater, he finds himself stuck to the wall. He misses the team, and for a second, he debates texting Penelope or Emily to see if they can save him from this situation. But he knows that he needs to socialize despite it never being his strong suit. Personally, he thinks that he’s gotten better at it. 

His spot against the wall makes it easy to spot Dr. Matthew and his wife as they discuss something with another couple. He gives up on that route and searches for his friend in the philosophy department. Instead, his eyes land on you. 

Unlike most staff, you’re happily dressed in a festive-looking sweater. He swears that he can see bells and tinsel hanging off it as you talk with another woman excitedly. Spencer lets out a short laugh; it reminds him of something Penelope would wear. 

You’re covering your mouth as you laugh, your eyes sweeping across the room as your giggles shake your shoulders lightly, landing on Dr. Reid for a second. Maybe it is the approaching holidays or the relief that you’re getting a break; you find yourself gracing him with a bright smile. 

Spencer feels a smile spread on his face at the sight and starts approaching you. When he gets to your side, you’re alone. “Hello,” 

You tilt your head up to look up at him, “Hello,” 

This is more awkward than you thought it would be. 

Spencer finds that he didn’t think this through, a surprising development, as he quickly says, “Ugly sweaters originated in the 50’s,” 

Your shoulders fall with that, eyes going soft as you mutter a quiet, “You think my sweater is ugly?” 

“What? No, no, that’s not–” He panics, his cheeks flushing slightly before he sees the growing smirk on your face. “You’re messing with me.” 

“And enjoying it deeply,” 

“You’re cruel,” 

“Payback, I suppose.” 

Spencer feels a stab of guilt in his chest with that, and he sucks in a light breath, “I do appreciate all your help this semester. If there is anything I can do to make it up to you, I will gladly do it.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, the conversation dies off for a second. You watch as Spencer glances around the room, reminiscent of how you looked two years ago. You bite the inside of your cheek. “I don’t hate you,” you sigh out, defeated. 

You were easy to please, and he had done just that– pleased you. You didn’t hold grudges, and even if you did, watching him now–talking with him really– you knew he didn’t mean any harm by it. 

His eyebrows shoot up, hazel eyes looking into yours, “Did you?” 

You let out a soft ‘mm’ as you flip your palm up and down, “Perhaps, briefly, pre-croissant.” 

Spencer let out a groan, eyes casting downwards as he nods, “I deserve that,” 

“Water under the bridge,” You decide, watching his hazel eyes leave the ground and meet yours with a hopeful glint.

For a moment, you focus on the color of his eyes. A deep honeyed color at first glance, but hints of cool-toned greens prove that idea wrong. Spencer swallows, wondering why he keeps finding himself without words when he’s around you. Perhaps he is scared of saying the wrong thing, further fracturing your relationship. 

“Would it be alright if we exchanged numbers?” You say, watching his eyes go wide. 

“For?” He hates how the question sounds coming off his tongue but relaxes when you smile. 

“Dr. Matthew saved your ass,” He’s still confused, and you can tell by the way his eyebrows furrow. “He told me that you occasionally lend a hand to the BAU, thus explaining the absenteeism.” 

He lets out a quiet ‘ah’ as you stare at him. "But I’d like to communicate better with you in the future. Hence, I am requesting a number exchange.” 

“I don’t plan on repeating–” 

“Nevertheless, just in case,” You insist softly, taking your phone out of your pocket and opening it for him. “I’m not the biggest fan of surprise classes.” 

Spencer nods as he carefully takes the phone out of your hands, careful not to touch your hands. “Of course,” he says, returning the phone after sending himself a hello message. 

You tuck it away as you nod, catching him smiling at you playfully. “What?” 

“Does this make us friends?” 

“Acquaintances, associates at best.” 

“Noted,” He says with a short laugh, watching you shake your head with a broad grin.

[theshrimp-party]

Hello, hello, I decide to actually post my MCB ocs here! I've been working on their concepts for a while (backstory wise), but i haven't really done their design properly.

But i did do their holoform (?) / human design as that is all i can manage for now.

Anyways, introducing the Star Guardians resident twins, SolarBlitz and Cresent Guard! (Sorry for the quality)

Yes! They are twins! And, they are Blue Cop's senior! (Rank wise, they are friendly to him enough as like an aquintence/friend)

Younger than Flame Nova, though.

SolarBlitz - the older of the two, upbeat personality although a bit clueless about social cues. (Like she can not read the room at all) She overall positive, a bit too positive and always ready to fight and defend Machnia. (It's giving obnoxious ngl, but she has a heart)

She has a great fighting spirit. She should also stop challenging others, though. Beating people up, especially your coworkers, is not a love language. (Please stop looking for fights in the office, and else where)

Alt mode: Flyer type, customised jet

Cresent Guard - the younger one. More quiet and reserved. She keeps to herself most of the time (except w her sis).

She technically is an enabler for Solarblitz in office fights as she is quite judgemental of people, usually with looks and behaviour. She only judges those who are mean and who deserve it. She'd quietly tell her sister about them, and the office fight starts.

She sometimes bend the rules for her own (and her sister's) benefits for themselves. She can be hardworking (if she puts enough effort into it), fulfilling her duties to the fullest and the best that she can. Not as strict as she looks, sometimes slack while doing paperwork, reading, or playing games.

However, in serious situations, she can be quite ruthless in her methods in accomplishing tasks. Very calculative and executes her plans with impeccable efficiency.

Alt mode: customised underwater Seacraft (similar to Deepbite kind of mode)

Also! They are both combiners! They turn into Skysplitter, a more well-known Star Guardian. They use Skysplitter to stake down stronger enemies (other planets?). Skyspiltter is them combined, not a different person entirely, like parts of them combine and create this persona with their memorise. Very serious personality. Idk how to describe it from there lmao.

Also they have a special feature!! Weapon and meiser relationship. (If Shadow X can become invisible, they can do this)

Solarblitz turns into a sword and shield for Cresent Guard. (Huge sword and shield)

Cresent guard turns into a machine gun (inspired by Trigun Wolfwood) (which could also work as a shield) and gun.

They are generally okay people, not the best, though. (They have their flaws)

The events on Machina are not smoothen out but I'll leave it in point form.

- catch criminal

- Cresent gets hurt, coma very long

- Solar sad, depressed. Rage and alcoholism

- Recover with help from love interest

- Fall of Machina, tried to protect the people. Could not, evacuated with her sis and a small group of other bots.

- Crash landed on planet with pod. They all try to fix it. the goal is to find other survivors

-attacked by native species, evacuated to the fixed escape pod.

- they sacrificed themselves to keep the native species away. Their bodies are left stranded on that planet while the others escaped.

That's all for now!! Tata!

- 🦐

[knightyoomyoui]

TWICE x M Reader - "Cry For Me": PART 4

A/N: We're now down to three remaining parts for this series. Hopefully I still made the progress of the story clear despite the word count being minimized compared to the previous parts.  Been months since I posted the last part, so let's see where we left off and how it will go for YN and the girls again on their respective agendas.

PREVIOUSLY ON CRY FOR ME: PART 3...

"Well, I have to go now. I still have somewhere to go, I just came here to remind about our supposed meetup yesterday." Jeongyeon excused herself.

"Oh okay, be safe on the road Jeongyeon." You understand, nodding softly and smiling at her. "Goodbye and thanks for the time!"

"You too, YN." Jeongyeon waved her hand at you, but instead you returned the gesture by wrapping her around on your embrance, sending undescribable sensation tingling around her body. "I-it's really good to have you back, Jeong.", you remarked about the redefinition of your relationship with her. Jeongyeon listened, her heart surprisingly softened as she heard the tenderness in his voice.

Now that you disappeared in front of her and entered the building again, that left Jeongyeon to be stunned once again at your heartful and cheerful action, she sighed deeply and clenched her fists at how tough it is again to resist the glimpse of your old being while knowing the bitter truth of it that you still haven't changed, leading yourself astray.

She watched your back distancing away from her, breathing gets heavier as a result of a familiar longing feeling increasing, having her saddened at your lunch that brings her back to that particular time in the past when she had her first date with you and those other numerous times you had to take her outside before, almost giving the same vibes in comparison.

The next day, you were busy reviewing all of the documents you needed to sign and deliver to your coworkers for arranging when your thoughts turned to Tzuyu, realizing that you hadn't caught up with her yet after that disappointing and cold night you two had.

Checking the mini-calendar on your desk, you discovered that tomorrow marks your seventh monthsary with her. After completing all of the necessary papers, you closed several tabs on your computer and opened a new one to search the internet for the best restaurant to go to on a date with your partner.

Going through your automatic dispenser to refill your cup with some fresh black coffee, you dialed Tzuyu’s phone number and waited for her response as it rang. 20 seconds had passed, but your call was instead left unanswered and labeled ‘cannot be reached’. You just thought that she’s probably busy right now with her work, and you understood that it’s not even her break yet, so you’ll just save it for later.

You then went to another option of leaving her a message to invite her. “Hey Tzu, can we go out tomorrow? It’s your day off, and we can spend time together for our anniversary. You’ll definitely love our date, so please accept. Love you! ” You sent it to her before shutting it off and taking a sip of your hot beverage.

Hours later, after you have called it a time to dismiss as you just played games for an hour without any task left to do aside from those you have completed already, you reopened your message box and noticed that Tzuyu had replied. A grin appeared on your face as she agreed for you to take her out.

However, that wasn’t the only reason what made you happy.

You left the building and greeted your workmates to take care of themselves on way home and some goodnights, you went to your car and drift away towards the destination you have in mind to end this day in a positive note.

Not much of a kilometer away, you parked in a spa that is still brightly lit, along with the rest of the places here and the lampposts beside the streetwalks.

You stepped on the entrance and noticed that the door already had a sign hanging with a message saying “Sorry, we are closed,” but you just scoffed and continued to open the door for yourself. Upon entering the aforementioned place, the room was quiet, the ambiance was soothing, and widely spaced as there's no crowd around.

Except for this other short haired woman who shares the same room as him tonight. You watched her gather all the things that they usually use for their customers and return them to their rightful place.

Hearing your footsteps on the floor echoing through the room, she has found your presence from the distance. She looked around and you matched a wide gummy smile that almost identical but not as large as Mina’s.

She wears a simple gray masseuse uniform with thigh high stockings in combo. You walked closer to her and made yourself relax on the vacant chair near her.

“My special regular customer has arrived, I see.” She teased and hid a smile as she carries a tray along with her. “Exhausted with work?”

“Kinda. Still felt like I need it though.” You said as you leaned back on the chair and closed your eyes while you waited for her. “How about you? Was there many customers today?”

“Yeah,. there’s like some group of women who came here earlier to do some bit of makeover before they attend some event or something. I heard it was a wedding.” She said, still feeling the effects of multitasking on assisting them for massage and beauty service both being a manager and a worker at the same time.

“Hmm. Then we do both really need to make ourselves more cozy for tonight, aren’t we?” You smiled as you watched her approached you. She sat beside you and caressed your arm.

“Are you perhaps thinking about doing it, YN?” She wheezed.

“Oh I have a lot of things in mind.” You smirked, holding her hand and rubbing it with your thumb.

“I would like for us to go all the way but let’s save it for next time. My body felt like it’s about to crumble tonight.” She sighed, slumping her shoulders.

You just chuckled and slapped her arm. “Easy, I’m talking about accompanying you and doing some massage.”

Jihyo leaned aback. “You can? But you’re tired too, though. You don’t need to be if you can’.”

“Nah, don’t mind me. In fact, I can still do it. I mean, I won’t initiate on you in the first place if I knew I can’t, right?” You winked, making her blush. “Let me help you also this time and return the favor, you’re not the only one who has skills on helping people relax and I came here because I need you right now, Jihyo.” You said, hiding the double meaning of it by referring to your girlfriend Tzuyu who wasn’t able to provide your urge yesterday when she went through a bad day to be entertained.

You pulled her arm to place her closer on you. The woman named Jihyo crashed against your body. She fixed her position on top of you, crouching against yours as you began kissing her deeply.

“And also, it’s fine with me if we can’t do it tonight. We can still find some way to help our urges while we give each other some body relaxation.”

“You do you, then. Take me to paradise, YN.”

Jihyo returned the intimacy, dragging her lips along with your movement. She felt her body heaten up with your hands groping her curves, on every parts you can reach on her. It was an easy access, as she’s petite compared to your size. You could’ve manhandled her under your dominance but you respect her decision to disregard it for now.

“I’ll be right back.” Jihyo cut your kiss with her as she gets up from your body, pushing herself away to stand and search for something to leave you for a while. Not wanting to keep you unattended, she signals you with a seductive “come hither” motion along with some bottle of herbal oil and lube she carries with her.

You immediately stand up and entered a familiar private room, the spot where you first met Jihyo after servicing you with her “special massage”. The table is all clean and prepared, she placed the bottles on the tray and not even bothering to have any questions, you just watched Jihyo taking off her uniform from top to bottom.

Carefully concentrating on every action she does, the clothes have been loosened and dropped on the floor. She steps out of her heels and just like that, Jihyo is now standing in front of you, barely naked with fabulous matching pair of red lingerie and black stockings.

You felt more intense as Jihyo smirked at you and she started climbing on the table. You viewed every glorious parts of her sexy and alluring body that wouldn’t be able to resist anytime.

“I can’t be the only who’ll be left hanging here without any clothes on. Take it off so that we can start.” Jihyo sat on the surface and she reaches for your coat, spreading it to slip through your shoulders. Then she proceeds to unbutton your white polo and opens up one of her desires for men, those packed set of abs that you’ve worked hard to built thanks also to Momo’s help.

She licks her lips as her hands travelled through your crotch and sensed something large bulging on the center. “Couldn’t control it, huh?”

“How could I be? You’re so damn sexy right now, Jihyo.” You said breathily as you sneakily glanced down at her deep cleavage forming as her arms compressed with the lustful touches she applies on your groin area.

“Let’s not keep your friend suffering while waiting, start ahead first with my back. It’s where it hurts a lot.” She said as she laid down on the table with her front figure first.

Her entire back frame all presented to you, you grabbed the bottle and spurted some amount of oil on your hands and rubbed it to create some heat, you then began spreading it across Jihyo’s toned back. Every glide, pound, and dig you create with your strong fingers across her succulent, slippery and smooth tanned skin, it arouses you more when you start hearing her hums and moans especially when you unclasp her bra and proceeded focusing on her sides.

And you spent the rest of the night with a much-needed session to satisfy and release your temptations and pleasures with Jihyo through different segments of a wild body massage.

The following day after finally meeting Jihyo, you shifted back to your responsibilities as a thoughtful and loving boyfriend to one of the gorgeous women you have ever pulled while pretending to not have any idea that you didn’t just met and became wild with another woman than her as usual. You visited Tzuyu’s house with her parents and there she was, dressed in a simple orange outfit that still fits her so great as always.

Her visual has this magic that makes her look blooming on every attire she puts on, and ofcourse the other part about it which is your favorite is that you’re the only one who could also take those off from her and admire her body even further.

Thinking that hopefully it happens on your special day with her and might be the perfect “next time” that she states few days ago to do it, you acted normal and presented yourself as a nice boyfriend to her in front of her parents. You excused her to them and brought her to your car.

As she sat beside you, you kissed her on the cheek and smiled at her. “Happy Monthsary, Tzu. I’ll do my best to make this special for the both of us, okay?”

“Okay.” She only replied with a smile that you weren’t aware that it’s full of force that she did with it.

You drove her to the restaurant of your choosing, after winning your consideration through some background check and reception it received from its previous customers. It had you assured that this would be a wonderful location for you to pour your love on this breathtaking woman.

Holding her hand, you had her following you to the entrance and to be assisted by the receptionist. “Reserved table for Mr. YN LN, please.”

“There’s one near at the back, sir.” She pointed at the direction after checking your inquiry. “I suppose you’re taking her on some lovely date tonight, sir.”

“More than that. It’s our monthsary today.”

“Oh is that so? Congratulations to the both of you. I wish you both a well-spent evening here at Twice’s.”

“Thank you.” Both you and Tzuyu replied and bowed at her respectfully.

“Follow me, please.” The receptionist led the way and showed you both the spot where you’ll both be having to enjoy the rest of the night being alone together just like what you needed to be.

You set the chair for Tzuyu like a gentleman and she takes it with no hesitation. You made your seat in front of her and both then looked around at the indoor atmosphere it possess.

“So, did you like the place?” You asked her. “I went to find the perfect one just for you.”

“It was great.” She answered plainly. You nodded and felt relieved at her response.

“We’re almost surpassing to a year now, yet it still feels like yesterday since the first time I met you.” You said to her. Tzuyu just watches you and nodded before she lowered her head.

“Have you perhaps thought of what it would be for us in the future, Tzuyu? I-if we’re still gonna be like this?”

“Sometimes.” She said nonchalantly.. “I do care for what’s going to happen someday but I don’t make it affect me too much, I just leave it off to what we have right now. Because I don’t want to call it in advance because of the things that could come for us to face first before we get through there.”

“But you don’t want to let it happen, right?”

“Happen what?”

“That there might be a time that it’ll take us two apart and ruin what we would’ve have grow together. Not only for us, but for our family that I wish we could create in the future.”

Tzuyu looked at you speechlessly after those words came out from your mouth. She wouldn’t deny that it was indeed sweet and touching, to hear your lover being frightful of the challenges that them as a couple might have to deal with and conquer together for the sake of a better life to maintain as time progresses.

But she can’t be fooled anymore by your fluffy talks and foolish acts of pity. She has learned enough about the real you. She starts to feel her hatred tense up, filling her insides at how could you just say all of that without any complete sincerity and determination.

If you can act at whatever you do or say in front of her just to hide your faulty secrets, she wouldn’t let herself to lose through these ridiculous game you have placed her in. She wants to strike back for making her feel disposable and underestimated. Just because you created these scheme that doesn’t mean that you’ll win also. You may be the one in control and know the mischievous moves you have to execute but if Tzuyu becomes just as unpredictable or should she say… even more, there’s got to be a way to turn the tables that seemed impossible around.

And that is through unveiling every piece of the lies and misconceptions that you have shared not only her, but for Nayeon and Jeongyeon who fell victim into his disguise.

If you may be thinking that you just could get away with all your pretend, Tzuyu wants to be the one who will be involve in putting the shameful side of yours in full attention and revelation for everybody to witness.

She would’ve love to share her future and dreams having you by her side but it all changes beginning today.

From wanting you to change her life for the better forever to Tzuyu wanting you to be gone out of her heart that you didn’t deserve to attain and non-existent to her.

Her eyes largened and stared down in fury at the table while she felt her fists clenching at the cloth of her dress imagining every amount karma she wants to unleash on you.

“Tzuyu, are you okay?” You asked her. “That table won’t do no harm on you, don’t threaten it too much with your stares.I’m right here, you can share what troubles you..” You joked.

If only you know that she actually wants to do it all on you by hurting you in any procedure she would do it in no time just to see you cry for her in mercy. Tzuyu thought about it.

“S-sorry. I might’ve spaced out. If f only the table can speak, it would express its fear on me.”

“Yeah, I wonder why you seemed mad. Did anything happen? Was there a reason?”

“Yeah, that’s me having a date with a cheater I couldn’t wait to expose and dump him out to where he belongs..” She said on her inner thoughts but again, she had to keep her composure, not wanting to create any scandal or ruckus in such public place that elegant people like her manages their time with their company.

She wants to embarass only you, and she rather prefer to see it all by herself to savor each moment.

“Nothing.” She fakely shook it off and chuckled.

“Okay…” You just understood her. “Just tell me if there’s something wrong, okay?”

“Alright.” But deep down, Tzuyu doesn’t want to, because doing it would rather worsen her mood knowing that the main problem is the one who is she currently facing at.

The date went smooth in your opinion, although you have been noticing that Tzuyu is acting strange and less expressive than usual. You tried your best to cheer her up and with the smiles she’s been giving to you, it does made you assured that it’s effective of making you look a concerned and caring boyfriend for Tzuyu.

Unfortunately, your plan to have an intimate time with Tzuyu failed as she requested to go home already because she is tired and getting sleepy. You helped her sleep and left her home, with her parents thanking you for making Tzuyu happy on celebrating another milestone of your relationship with her. Unbeknownst to you, Jeongyeon who got stuck into a light traffic inside a taxicab, saw you and Tzuyu depart from the restaurant. Observing Tzuyu holding a large bouquet of flowers while holding your right hand as both strolled through the sidewalk and crossed the street, Jeongyeon felt an immense jealousy for the girl you replaced instead of her who was the first wife you ever had.

She slowly frowned. The cab then continues to detach her away from the painful sight she has just witnessed as the vehicles went moving again.

Meanwhile, Tzuyu on her bedroom, woke up right after you closed the door. A teardrop filled with hatred and anger fell on her face, her heart aching knowing at the fact that you’ll be back on doing your habit of leaving her again to whoever that girl she had caught you sharing a time together at the gym.

The next morning, Momo received a message from you and she directly informed Nayeon about it, saying that you wouldn’t be able to meet her today at the gym because you’re busy and you just had your body massaged few days ago.

Nayeon then began wondering who would you be seeing next today if not Momo already. She then alerted Jeongyeon that you may try to connect with her while Momo did the same for Sana. Tzuyu on the other hand, was left unbothered by Nayeon now because she already knew that the two would be having a date yesterday.

This is now a part of their plan to keep you on track on whatever bullshit you may attempt to do behind their backs, and Nayeon would be leading the way to remain her eyes spying on you discreetly as the rest of the girls update her about your possible whereabouts to visit.

You could say that Nayeon has became obsessed on chasing hell to put your deceitful intentions into its rightful punishment.

Without any of their idea, you arrived to a café after craving for some freshly brewed coffee solely made by your most favorite barista in this place.

You went to the cashier and there she is, immediately serving you with all welcome. “I suppose you had enough of palpitating your chest with your bland coffee you got there on your office.”

“You’re too harsh on me, but you’re also right Chaeyoung. Well, what’s new that you would like to recommend me to try?”

“Our special Caramel Mocchiato iced coffee. Tasted it yesterday and it’s splendid. Would you like it?”

“Ofcourse, I have trust on your taste. It was great, I could tell when I already got one from the source too.” You winked and clicked your tongue, turning Chaeyoung’s cheeks reddish as she remembered that moment you’re implying at.

“Damn it, now’s not the time to be flirty, YN. I’m at work.” She warned you.

“Alright alright, fine. Give it to me.” You said as you started pulling out a credit card on your wallet. Chaeyoung sighed and shook her head at your silliness. You grabbed a seat for yourself and waited patiently for your beloved girl to serve you the coffee you’re excited to taste made purely by the skills of this pretty barista.

“Here’s your Caramel Mocchiato.” Chaeyoung said, placing it on your table. She stood in front of you as she observed you take a sip from it. You simmered it on your mouth and analyzed your opinion about the drink she recommended you.

Chaeyoung’s nervousness was then replaced by uplift when she saw your face brightened after you swallowed it. “Take it as my new usual now, Chaeng. That was delicious.”

She playfully punched you on the shoulder. “Told you. I’m glad you like it.”

“I knew I would be, it was made by you. You never cease to disappoint me so far, Chaeyoung. Maybe this is why I still keep myself chasing for your interest.” You said with a smile. Chaeyoung grinned and pinched your cheek.

“You want a good news? I’m liking every single bit of what you do to me, YN.” She stated before she walked away with confidence from you. You wheezed and chuckled, delighted to hear it from her.

10 minutes after you left, Chaeyoung was still servicing the customers in line with their orders until a certain someone reached her turn, who not only demanded for her choice through the menu, but also the full attention of the barista to join her for an abrupt discussion about something serious, which led the latter into curiousity.

[slaymitchabernathy]

After Hours

| tw: dubcon/noncon |

"Miss Nightingale, where are those documents Mr. Creed brought earlier?"

Coriolanus doesn't even need to look up to know when she's reached the side of his desk. The sound of her high heels on the hardwood floors helps him gauge her distance. He merely holds out his hand for her to place to documents in his hold, "Here you are sir." His lips turn up into a small smirk before he waves her off, "That will be all."

He only looks up once she's walking away and her back is facing him. Soarynn Nightingale is quite the sight to behold, especially from behind where he can see how she's chosen to style her blonde hair for the day. He can see her long, slender legs perfectly wrapped up in whatever pencil skirt she's put on, along with the flattering blouses that suit her figure perfectly.

If only she weren't his secretary.

She's been a thorn in his side for the past year since she started working at the firm. He was in need of a secretary as he moved up to a very powerful position and his boss was quick to find one. Coriolanus needed his secretary to be quick on their feet, diligent, and attentive. He just hadn't expected her to be so...young.

Soarynn came into the office wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, eager to please the man she would be working for. She was very attractive with her blue-gray eyes and her soft blonde hair. Coriolanus however couldn't afford to get caught up with his secretary's youthful beauty. Not when he was expected to be a leader, to be respected.

So he only addressed her when necessary and spoke to her in an authoritative tone that left no room for arguments. He was to be respected, not questioned. And Soarynn was very respectful. She was also a quick learner and despite him keeping her at arm's length, she knew exactly how he liked his coffee, where to put his briefcase, and his preferred alcoholic drink.

Just this morning he had come into the office to find her already seated behind her mahogany desk that sat right outside of his office doors. She immediately stood to her feet the moment she heard the elevator doors open and greeted him with the kind smile he had grown used to. "Good morning Mr. Snow," she had said, her voice was smooth like honey. He had nodded like he always did before shrugging off his coat and handing it to her, "Good morning Miss Nightingale."

When he entered his office his coffee was already waiting for him, along with two cinnamon cookies that he was always fond of dunking in his coffee and a small saucer with cream.

She was very good at her job.

Sometimes though, he wonders what her legs would look like wrapped around his torso as he pounds into her, listening to her soft moans and...no! He has to snap out of it and finish his work. It's an unspoken rule between the higher-ups and their secretaries that they don't leave until their bosses leave and the same goes for Coriolanus and Soarynn.

He's heard complaints in the break rooms from other secretaries about how their bosses keep them here for long hours into the night but he's never heard Soarynn complain or heard word of her complaining.

He buries himself in his work, not even noticing the time passing by until he hears a knock at the doors, too loud and imposing to belong to Soarynn which means it must belong to Festus Creed. "Burning the midnight oil I see," Festus playfully remarks before strolling further into the office, making himself right at home in one of the two armchairs that sit across from Coriolanus and his desk.

Coriolanus rolls his eyes and looks up at his friend and coworker who has his briefcase in hand and is already wearing his coat, "Not everyone can afford to slack off the way you do Festus," he replies in jest. Festus works as hard as Coriolanus, he's just a bit sloppier in the way he does it. Festus smirks, "Work hard play hard, remember?"

Coriolanus is all too familiar with that phrase that got them both through the University. Working hard meant getting to enjoy the finer things in life and the Capitol had no shortage of nice, expensive things.

"I remember," Coriolanus says, scratching off another thing from his list, "oh, I forgot to tell you about a gala that the firm is holding in a few weeks, you're allowed to bring a plus one." Festus hums and Coriolanus already knows he'll be bringing his wife Persephone Creed, formerly Persephone Price.

They got married rather young at twenty-five and twenty-four, but they make for an attractive couple, and both of them coming from old money solidified their status among the Capitol elites.

"Will you be bringing a plus one?" Festus asks and Coriolanus immediately shakes his head, "I will not."

Coriolanus is far too busy to get himself wrapped up in a pointless relationship. He'll be twenty-six in a month and he's made it this far without a woman by his side. He lets out a yawn and sits back in his chair, "Besides, none of the women my age interest me in the slightest."

Festus hums and glances the desk where Coriolanus doesn't have a single photo or personal item. His bookshelves have a few awards but that's about it. No personal touches. "That's a shame, I always pegged you for liking older women," Festus says, laughing when Coriolanus gives him an incredulous look.

"I do not have a thing for older women," Coriolanus scoffs.

Festus raises his eyebrows, "Well then what do you have a thing for?"

Coriolanus isn't able to answer as they're interrupted by a soft knock, one he associates with Soarynn and only Soarynn, "Mr. Snow?" He straightens up in his chair before calling her in, "Come in." Soarynn quietly steps in, her eyes scanning over the two men for only a moment before she lowers her gaze and approaches the desk.

Coriolanus can't help but notice Festus and his eyes roving over Soarynn's body. "Is there a reason for your interruption?" Coriolanus asks her, tilting his head. Soarynn nods and meets his eyes, "Yes sir. Mr. Harrington called about some strategy plans, he said he needs them by tomorrow morning."

Coriolanus swears under his breath. He should be working on those plans right now, but Festus Fucking Creed seems to be a nuisance whenever he wants to get work done. "Tell him I'll deliver them by tonight." Soarynn nods and is out of the office before anything else can be said, closing the doors behind her.

Festus smirks, "You could always take her to the gala. She's definitely your type." Coriolanus cards a hand through his hair, taking a secretary to any formal event would be highly frowned upon and considered unprofessional, both things he wants to stay far away from. "I don't think so," is all he says before turning back to his work.

Festus scoffs and scoots the chair closer to the desk, "Come on Coryo. She's like the perfect little plaything for you. How old is she? Sixteen?" Coriolanus shoots Festus a lethal glare, "She's nineteen thank you very much. Do you really think they'd hire someone under the legal age?" Festus doesn't look too impressed and Coriolanus knows why. It's because every other secretary in this firm is well in her forties with a husband and children. Soarynn is the outlier.

But she's a quiet girl, keeps to herself, does her work, and goes home.

"All I'm saying is I wouldn't be able to handle myself around her if she was my secretary." Well, Coriolanus isn't surprised there, not when Festus flirts with no shame or restraint. "It's a good thing she's not your secretary then," Coriolanus decides.

A good thing indeed.

꧁ ꧂

The next time Coriolanus looks up at his clock, it's eleven o'clock at night. "Fuck," he whispers. He's putting the finishing touches on the plans but he also desperately needs a coffee. "Soarynn?"

He wants to bite his tongue for calling her by her first name instead of her last but it's too late to take it back now and she's already stepping into the office, "Yes Mr. Snow?" He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, "Bring me a coffee. Black, and as strong as humanly possible." A small smile appears on her lips and she nods, "Yes sir."

She's only gone for a few minutes but the scent of vanilla lingers. It had taken Coriolanus a good twenty seconds to associate the scent of vanilla with his secretary. He still remembers the day he came into the office and was introduced to her by Felix Ravenstill, one of his superiors.

"Coriolanus, I'd like you to meet your new secretary, Soarynn Nightingale." She had looked so young when he first met her, so nervous and desperate to please those around her. He was quick to instill a set of expectations with her, maintain eye contact, no mumbling, and always knock before entering the office. As a Snow, he held himself in high regard and expected her to do the same.

"Here you go, sir." He looks up from his work, slightly startled at how quietly she snuck up on him. He looks up at her before looking at the coffee in her hands and nods, "Thank you." He can't but notice how tired she looks, how delicate her collar bones look, and how soft her skin probably feels. "Has everyone else gone home?" He asks, wondering if there are any other unfortunate souls working this late into the night.

Soarynn hums and stands back up to her full height, "Yes sir." Coriolanus doesn't know why, but he feels compelled to compensate for her late nights in the office. Working after hours isn't something anyone wants to do, especially secretaries. "You've finished up all your tasks for the day I presume?" He asks while bringing the mug up to his lips. Soarynn nods, her hands clasped behind her back, "I have sir."

Good, there's nothing like an employee who procrastinates.

"Why don't you have a seat then," he gestures to the armchairs that sit in front of his desk. He doesn't miss the way Soarynn's eyes slightly widen at his somewhat casual behavior but he ignores it and watches her take a seat across from him. He watches how she sits down so elegantly, crossing her legs, smoothing down the charcoal gray pencil skirt she wore today before straightening up.

"How have you liked working here so far?" He asks, not really caring since she already had her yearly evaluation with Felix who reported back that Soarynn had zero complaints about her current position within the firm. She gives him a polite smile, "I've enjoyed it, sir. Everyone here is very kind." Coriolanus raises his eyebrows because they both know that some of the people who work here can be complete and utter assholes.

Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears, "Well, most of the secretaries have been kind. Although I suppose most of the men are very busy and have a reason to be more curt."

Coriolanus traces a finger around the mug's rim, "And how do you like working for me?"

It's a selfish and unprofessional question but he's curious to know what his secretary thinks of him. Truthfully and blatantly. Soarynn's cheeks turn pink and she looks down at her lap, "I enjoy it," she says.

Coriolanus looks her up and down, admiring what a vision she is even in clothes meant for business. "You're a very loyal worker," he tells her, "very attentive, very diligent. All things I expect from a woman." Soarynn's head shoots up, her lips pursed, "Don't you mean things you expect from your secretary, sir?" Coriolanus smiles a little at her naive way of thinking. He often has to remind himself that she's seven years younger than him and still has to learn her place in society.

He shakes his head, "I expect these qualities from all women in my life, from my wife to my daughter to my secretary." Soarynn takes in a sharp breath, "You're married then?" Her eyes widen the second she realizes her mistake, "Sir," she tacks on.

Coriolanus chuckles and sets the mug down, "No, I'm not married. Although I am in the market for a future wife, I'm more than willing to take my time finding her."

This seems to pique her interest because she slightly leans forward, "What exactly are you looking for in a wife sir?"

Coriolanus leans back in his chair and drums his fingers on the armrests, "Attractive for starters," he gives Soarynn a knowing look, "appearances matter whether people are willing to admit that or not. A wife of mine needs to possess a certain level of intelligence, she needs to be knowledgeable on all things household-related but she should also be able to hold her own in social settings. Etiquette is everything."

It's somewhat adorable how Soarynn immediately fixes her posture at the mention of proper etiquette, "And of course, my future wife will need to be attentive to all my needs," he finishes.

Soarynn blinks once, twice, "Attentive to your...needs?" She sounds so confused, puzzled really. Coriolanus smirks and nods, "Yes, my needs. A man has many needs as I'm sure you're aware of by now, such as his coffee being prepared for him every morning, being greeted before and after work." Soarynn nods along, "And there are, of course, a man's intimate needs as well," he adds.

Soarynn swallows, "Your wife would be expected to..." It seems that her innocent mind is incapable of finishing the sentence. Coriolanus knows little of her background, only that both her parents died in the war and that she was an exemplary student at the Academy but could not afford to go on to the University, which landed her this job as his secretary. Felix Ravenstill's father knew Soarynn's father, so he arranged her job as a favor of some kind.

Coriolanus knows that if he hadn't called in this favor then Soarynn would be some lowly waitress working at a club. It's a good thing she landed where she did though, a girl like her is too pretty, too proper to work a simple, demeaning job like that.

"She would be expected to fulfill my sexual urges, yes," he completes the daunting sentence for her, "but any wife of mine would be happy to since I would be more than willing to return the favor."

Her ears are red and he's willing to bet that she's more than uncomfortable with this highly unprofessional conversation they're having right now. He leans forward, his forearms resting on his desk, "Tell me Soarynn, are you willing to go above and beyond to please your boss?"

Coriolanus is walking a dangerous line and he knows it. It's a line that could easily get him fired despite his higher-ranking position within the company. But he can't help it, not when she's right here in the palm of his hand. He's been tortured by her form-fitting outfits and long blonde hair for over a year now and he's sick of it.

He can see her hands slightly shaking but he doesn't pay too much attention to that, no, he pays attention to her face, how nervous yet interested she seems. She's conflicted and rightfully so.

"I am," she finally says, and she says it so softly, "I am willing to do whatever it takes to please you sir."

Coriolanus doesn't see the point in wasting any more time on the matter if she's so willing. "Come here."

Soarynn shoots up from her chair and rounds the desk. She's a foot away from him and he can't wait to sink his teeth into her.

"Take it off," he says, almost sounding bored.

Soarynn furrows her eyebrows, "Take what off sir?"

He looks her up and down and admires her black high heels for a moment, "Take your clothes off darling, but leave your shoes on."

She blushes at the pet name but her hands are shaky as she unbuttons her long-sleeved silky blouse. Coriolanus watches her silently, barely giving a reaction when her blouse falls to the floor, revealing a black bralette.

Soarynn sucks in a shaky breath and reaches for the zipper of her skirt but it's in the back and he likes to imagine that taking it off herself is something she normally does in the privacy of her own home when she doesn't have an audience.

He beckons her forward with two fingers and spreads his legs so that she's standing in between them. He stares up at her, his piercing blue eyes meeting her blue-gray ones as his hand slips behind her and takes hold of the zipper.

Soarynn lets out a small gasp when he pulls it down in one swift motion.

She takes a step back to pull it down and kick it to the side next to her blouse and he admires the matching black lacy thong that she's worn.

It's like she's trying to seduce him.

Coriolanus finally is able to look at Soarynn and her figure and he’s more than pleased with what he sees. Despite her being significantly shorter than him, she still has long legs. Her waist is small and he notices a small birthmark right under her ribs. Her breasts are the perfect size, pushed up by her bralette with lacy black straps.

She’s a vision.

She looks nervous standing in front of him, wearing nothing but her underwear but Coriolanus always knew this is how they'd end up, her bending to his will.

"Kneel," he instructs, watching her slowly sink to her knees. He lets out a deep sigh as he looks down at her, so submissive and willing to please him even if it's at her own expense. "Are you a virgin Soarynn?" He asks, cupping her jaw in his hand. Soarynn is trembling but she nods, "Yes sir."

Perfect.

"So you've never partaken in any sexual acts with anyone?" He's curious to know how far her sexual knowledge goes. If she's the good Capitol girl he thinks she is then she won't have any experience besides a possible peck on the lips. "No sir," she whispers, "I've only kissed one boy before." Coriolanus hums and squeezes her jaw a little harder, "Then this will be a good lesson for you."

His growing bulge is becoming more and more evident and Soarynn finally lays her eyes on it and her eyes widen, "I...I've never..." Coriolanus chuckles and quiets her down, "I'll make sure that you learn everything I need you to know, starting with taking my belt off."

Soarynn brings her dainty hands to his leather belt and she slowly undoes the buckle and slips it out from his belt loops. Coriolanus lets out a soft groan when her hand brushes his bulge, "Now you ask me for permission," he continues, letting go of her jaw.

Soarynn sits back on her heels for a moment, seemingly confused, "Ask permission for what sir?" Coriolanus smirks, he didn't think she'd be so innocent, "Permission to touch me darling, to have the privilege of putting my cock in your mouth."

Soarynn rests her hands on her thighs and she lets out a shaky breath before looking him in the eye, "May I please...may I please touch you, sir?" Coriolanus can't believe he's waited this long for this moment. He makes himself comfortable in the chair, "You may."

Soarynn is quick to pop back up on her knees and reach for his zipper. He can tell she's trying to be confident, to act like she knows what she's doing even though she doesn't. He remains silent as she pulls his pants down to his thighs, revealing his cock straining in his boxers. "I've never done this before," she admits, hesitating to peel back his boxers.

Coriolanus grabs a handful of her hair, pulling on it so hard that she lets out a squeak, "It's a good thing that you have such a generous boss who's willing to teach you then hmm?" Soarynn nods but it's not like she has much of a choice in the matter.

Soarynn peels back his boxers and his cock springs out, fully erect with a bit of precum already forming on the tip. "Grab it," he tells her, "lick it from top to bottom darling." It's an erotic sight to see Soarynn Nightingale on her knees in front of him, licking him from his balls to his tip. His little secretary is slowly becoming his little slut.

Coriolanus bucks his hips when she lingers on the tip for too long and he tightens his grip on her hair, "Since you're already so confident," he snarls, "you can start taking me in, slowly, and watch your teeth." He won't hesitate to backhand her should her teeth graze him in any way. She'll need to learn sooner rather than later.

Soarynn swallows and looks up at him before slowly taking him in her mouth. Coriolanus sighs, her mouth is small but warm which makes him even more eager to split her cunt open.

She stretches her lips around his girth and slowly slides down the length until she can't take any more. She's over halfway down and Coriolanus knows he's bigger than most but he's curious to see if she has a gag reflex. He pushes her head down even further and hears the familiar sound of choking before he pulls her back up.

"So my little secretary has a gag reflex," he muses, watching her try to take in a deep breath before he pushes her back down. He sets a slow but steady pace for Soarynn, giving her critiques when she does something he doesn't like. He shudders when her tongue grazes the the prominent vein that runs along his length, "Fuck," he groans, "just like that darling."

He can feel himself growing closer and closer and he's becoming less reserved, bucking his hips up more and more, forcing her to take every inch. Soarynn has tears running down her eyes, smudging her normally perfect makeup. She looks so pretty like this.

When he finally reaches his orgasm he watches with glee as Soarynn takes everything he gives her, looking him right in the eye as her lips are still wrapped around his cock. He finally pulls her off and watches her swallow what remains in her mouth. She coughs a little bit, clearing her throat no doubt.

"Was that...did that please you sir?" She asks, her voice raspy. Coriolanus nods, "Yes, I'm very pleased with your commitment to my pleasure Soarynn. Now stand up and bend over the desk."

A wave of surprise washes over her face, clearly not expecting him to fuck her. "Sir, I...I haven't ever had se-"

"I fail to see where that is my problem Soarynn," he cuts her off, "you knew what you were getting into by doing this. Now stand and bend over the desk, I won't ask again." There are more tears in her eyes and it's not from sex, "I'm saving myself for my husband."

He almost laughs at her argument but it's a somewhat honorable thing to do, saving herself for her future husband whoever he may be. But the more Coriolanus thinks about it, the more he realizes how perfect this could be for him.

He'll keep her around for as long as possible, have his fun with her and then, he'll have her quit and move in with him. That way she can get accustomed to taking care of the penthouse the way he likes. Then, he'll propose, and possibly get her pregnant to ensure she can't go anywhere.

It's perfect.

But he won't tell her that, not yet. He needs to keep her in the palm of his hand for right now, keep up his bossy persona.

"So you can choke on another man's cock but you draw the line by being fucked by it?" He drawls, his tone domineering and demeaning. Soarynn tries to look away but he grabs her face, squeezing her cheeks, "It would be a terrible shame if your unprofessional behavior was to be leaked to our superiors. Seducing your boss is a serious offense darling. Are you sure you wouldn't rather enjoy all I can give you?"

Soarynn sniffles but Coriolanus doesn't have time for tears, "The decision is yours Soarynn, be my loyal, doting secretary, or be fired first thing in the morning." Blackmailing her probably isn't the nicest thing to do but his hand is twisted.

Soarynn looks down at the floor for a moment before slowly standing up, her knees are slightly bruised. It's a beautiful sight to watch her step towards his desk and bend over, baring her sparsely covered cunt to him. Her black lacy thong covers the bare minimum and Coriolanus is quick to stand to his feet. He lands a quick slap to her ass and Soarynn gasps, looking at him from over her shoulder.

She's bent over but not the way he wants her to be. He wants her to be flush with the mahogany desk, not leaning against it with her hands. He places his hand on the small of her back and gives her a firm shove, pressing her entire upper body against the cold wood, pinning her to the desk. "Prop this leg up for me darling," he instructs, grabbing her right leg and bringing it to the edge of the desk.

Soarynn being the good girl she is, keeps it there and lets out a whimper when his finger slips under her lace panties. Coriolanus tugs the thong to the side and groans when he sees how wet she is, how perfect her little cunt is. All for him.

He licks his thumb and brings it down to her clit, rubbing it in tight circles. Soarynn cries out and ruts her hips back, already overwhelmed by the pleasure. "You ever touch yourself Soarynn?" He doesn't really care, not when he's going to be the only one touching her from now on.

"Yes," she whispers, her face half-pressed into the hardwood furniture, "only sometimes, sir," she adds. Coriolanus chuckles and pulls his thumb away, dragging it through her wet folds. She'll be an easy fuck, easy to slip in and out of but virgins are always tight and he has a feeling that Soarynn will exceed his expectations.

"What do you think about when you touch yourself?" He asks, bringing his cock up to her entrance. Soarynn gasps when she feels the tip pressing against her folds, "I...I don't really think about anything or anyone."

There's a certain tell in her voice that lets Coriolanus know when she's lying. He's only heard it once before, when she accidentally threw out a very important sales report and said she never saw it. He wanted to bend her over his lap and spank her ass until it was covered in his hand prints but he had to settle for giving her a stern talking to and threatening to tell his boss if it ever happened again.

"Don't lie to me," he had said to his cowering secretary, "I can forgive a lot of things but don't ever lie to me."

She's lying right now. He grabs her waist with his other hand and squeezes it so hard that he knows he'll leave behind a bruise and Soarynn cries out, "You! I think of you. I think of you touching me and...and doing things to me." It sounds like a confession and he's more than happy to be on the receiving end of it.

Coriolanus slowly begins to push into her cunt, "I find it ironic that less than five minutes ago you were hesitant on letting me fuck you when in reality, you're a dirty little girl who gets off on the thought of her boss touching her. What did you imagine Soarynn? Did you picture my long fingers plunging in and out of your cunt? Or you grinding against my fine leather shoes, like a bitch in heat? Maybe you thought about being my little fuckdoll and letting my associates take a turn."

Soarynn's hands desperately grab the edge of the desk as he sinks further in and she moans, low and desperate. Coriolanus watches her take him inch by inch until he's finally in and they both gasp when he presses against her sweet spot. "Oh," she gasps, most likely somewhat in pain from the uncomfortable stretch. She'll learn to love it though.

Coriolanus is many things, but he's not a patient man so he immediately draws his hips back before slamming back into her cunt, relishing in the sounds she makes. She takes him like she was made for him and only him. "That's it," he says, "taking me so well darling, my little fuckdoll, my little secretary who always hoped I'd split her cunt open."

He watches Soarynn's face and smirks when he sees her eyes already rolling back from the punishing pace that this angle provides. "What are you Soarynn?" He lets go of her waist and grabs her face, sticking two fingers in her mouth, prying it open. Soarynn lets out a few pitiful, garbled moans before responding, "I'm yours, sir," she says, drooling all over his fingers and onto the desk.

He nods even though she can't see him, "That's right. No one else will ever see you like this or touch you like this, or hear you like this. You won't ever touch yourself again without my permission, am I clear?" He thinks Soarynn might agree to anything in this dumbed-down stage because she immediately nods, more drool dripping onto the desk. "Yes sir," she cries, her walls tightening around his cock.

Coriolanus swears under his breath, he didn't anticipate her to be this intoxicating, he'll have to be careful around her, keep her at arm's length for a while after this.

"Go ahead and cum for me darling, I know you want to, and you'll take everything I give you too." At that moment he wonders if she has the birth control implant most women have. She would if she's smart, a pretty girl like her is bound to be taken advantage of eventually. Thank goodness he found her before that happened.

He pulls his fingers from her mouth and grabs her upper arm, feeling around for the familiar feeling of the implant, and lets out a sigh of relief when he feels it lodged in her arm.

Soarynn whines in such a high pitch when she finally cums, her walls flutter around his cock as she has her first-ever orgasm. Coriolanus isn't far behind her and takes pride in finishing inside her cunt, making sure she takes every drop. He presses his hips tight against her ass, getting as deep as he possibly can before leaning over her so that his mouth ghosts her ear, "Lick your drool off my desk before I make you lick something else."

Even in her fucked out state, Soarynn shivers and seems to register that command. She lifts her head with a small groan and laps at the small puddle of drool that has accumulated on his desk. "That's my good girl," he praises, brushing her hair. It's so soft, he's imagined running his fingers through it so many times and now he finally can.

Normally, this would only be the first round, but Soarynn is shaking from exhaustion. He looks up at the clock to see that it's one o'clock in the morning. Far too late for either of them. "Let's discuss this arrangement more in the morning," he suggests before standing back up to pull out.

Soarynn moans when he finally does and Coriolanus wishes he could take a photograph of his cum leaking from her puffy cunt with traces of blood, signifying that her virginity now belongs to him and only him. "Arrangement?" She repeats, looking up at him from over her shoulder, and he nods, "Yes, an agreement is a better term for it. To ensure that we're both aware of what this is and what to expect from one another."

꧁ ꧂

He doesn't give her time to dwell over it, he simply grabs her waist and helps clean her up before letting her get dressed again. He keeps her panties in one of his desk drawers, enjoying how she blushes when he does it, "A little souvenir," he tells her with a wink.

Soarynn doesn't say anything. She doesn't say anything as they walk through the empty halls of the building to drop off the strategy plans before they both slip into his car so he can drive her home.

Coriolanus is somewhat impressed when they pull up to a nice-looking townhouse not too far from the Corso. "I assume that your parents left behind the house to you," he muses as they come to a stop. Soarynn nods and looks out the car window, "Yes sir."

Coriolanus supposes he should say something comforting, but he's never been the comforting type. Instead, he cups her face in his hand and brings her lips to his, their first kiss. He's always imagined what she'd feel like wrapped around his cock, but not once did he think about kissing her.

Soarynn's lips are so soft and she submits to him easily, letting his tongue explore her mouth as he pleases. When he pulls away she's breathless and looking at him with some sort of infatuation in her eyes. At least, he hopes it's infatuation. "I'll see you tomorrow morning Miss Nightingale."

Her face slightly falls as if she was expecting something more but Coriolanus has never been one to give more than he thinks is deserved. She slowly nods and opens the car door, slipping out into the cold night.

"Goodnight Mr. Snow."

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[luvsturniolo]

— ★ !! pierce

pairing : matt sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis : you’re a tattoo artist. while working your usual shift, someone you didn’t expect to ever see again walks through the doors, asking for you.

a/n : my first story on here, i’m so excited !!

wc : 1.5k

you sigh, as you walk back over to your station. an old lady just left a few moments ago. she wasn’t exactly the nicest person you’d ever met seeing as she was grumpy and extremely rude while you were tattooing her. you knew it was your duty to do as the customer asks, but you were tempted to mess up her tattoo just to spite her. and if you didn’t know that would cause you to lose your job, you would have done it without a second thought.

“y/n!” you hear your coworker call from the front desk.

the building at which you work is separated into two sections – the front, where the workers book appointments and talk to customers ; and the back, where the tattoo artists do their job.

normally, you stay in the back and do about one or two tattoos per day. however, it's not uncommon for the artists to get called to the front. the people who work at the front desk sometimes need to ask about your schedule or if you can do certain tattoos.

"yes?" you ask once you get to the front of the store. however, before your coworker can even answer, your heart sinks to your stomach. standing behind the counter is your ex boyfriend from high school, matthew sturniolo.

the two of you have quite a rough past.

you dated for three years. your relationship was happy and healthy. to be completely honest, you thought matt was going to be the man you married. he never did anything wrong and was the most perfect boyfriend you could ever ask for.

but that was before you found out who he truly was. during your senior year of high school, you walked in on matt making out with your best friend.

after that, you stopped talking to both of them – including matt's two brothers, nick and chris. they didn't do anything wrong, but they were so similar to matt that it hurt to be around them.

"y/n." matt says as he stares at you with his mouth agape.

you manage a smile before saying, "it's nice to meet you, sir." matt's eyebrows furrow in confusion at your strange greeting. there's no way you forgot about him, is there?

"is there a reason i was called up here?" you ask as you turn to face your coworker with a professional smile.

"this man has been asking for you." your coworker explains. "he's refused to have anyone else do his tattoo except for you."

you look at matt with a curious expression on your face because now you're really confused. when you first laid eyes on him, you were hoping this was a mistake and he just walked into a random store. but now you're positive it was not a mistake.

"i don't know if you know the rules of our store, but you need to make an appointment ahead of time." you tell matt, continuing to act oblivious.

you don't want to say his name or address your past. because if you do, there's no turning back.

truth is, you haven't been able to move on from matt ever since you broke up with him. it's been two years since then, but you haven't been able to stop thinking about him.

you've tried dating other guys, but it wasn't the same as matt. you also tried experimenting with women. but nothing worked. everyone and everything just brought your mind back to matthew.

so you quit dating entirely. and you've never been happier.

"y/n." he says. "don't act like we didn't happen."

"sorry, sir. but i have no idea what you're talking about." you say, your voice shaking the tiniest bit. you quickly cover it up by clearing your thought and continuing. "if you can't make an appointment like everyone else, i'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

matt just stares at you, his gaze softening. you hold the contact, your eyes sharp but steady.

"y/n-"

"dawson," you call out your coworker's last name. "can you please have this man removed from our store?"

dawson nods before you calmly return to the back of the store. you don't stay to watch as matt gets removed. you simply close the door behind you as you walk over to your station.

you've been working here for a hear and a half and you've made tons of friends. including jamie – another tattoo artist whose station is directly beside yours. she watches you walk back to your area and after taking one look at you, she's worried.

"did something happen?" she asks you.

"i don't wanna talk about it." you respond.

jamie nods, not wanting to be nosy or anything like that. she's a good friend and is genuinely worried about you, but she would never pry something out of you.

suddenly, her attention is taken off of you and is placed onto a customer entering the back of the store. you don't care to look at them, assuming it's just the usual customer who's here for a touch-up.

"y/n, please talk to me." you whip around at the sound of matt's voice.

"how did you get back here?" you ask him, your eyes wide.

"i just explained everything to dawson." matt says. "he listened to me and now he understands exactly why i'm here. and i want you to listen to me, as well."

you glance toward the door, seeing dawson's blonde head peeking through the small window. you shoot him a glare and he quickly turns back around.

you suck in a breath, calming your nerves before crossing your arms over your chest. "why would i do that?"

"listen, i'm not going to force you to forgive me. but can you at least let me explain?" matt asks. "these past two years have been hell without you, y/n. i can't live with myself knowing that you hate me."

"good." you respond.

matt chuckles, "if it makes you feel any better, i didn't only come here for you. i do want another tattoo."

"no, that doesn't make me feel better." you tell him. "if you need a tattoo, jamie is really good and she's been working here for longer than me. you should ask her rather than pestering your ex-girlfriend that you cheated on."

"i didn't cheat, y/n." matt says. "she forced herself onto me."

"that's funny." you tell him, turning around and beginning to do something else. "it seemed to me like you were enjoying it quite a lot."

"you hardly even saw us." matt says. "you took one look at the situation and made a harsh judgement without a second thought."

"oh, so now i'm the one getting blamed for your fuck up?"

"no, i'm not blaming you. i'm simply explaining why you saw what you saw." matt says. "she pulled me away into an empty classroom and forced herself onto me. i tried pushing her off, but that's when you walked in. you saw me holding her because i was trying to shove her off of me."

"okay, well why didn't you explain all of this back then?" you ask him. "it's been two years, matt, why now?"

"you had a valid reason to be upset and i didn't want you to think i was making excuses for myself." he says. "i thought you would forgive me and come back. but when you didn't, i felt like a piece of me was missing ever since. it took months to find you here. and i'll do anything to make it up to you."

as you watch matt's expression turn into one of genuine admiration, you no longer see your cheating ex who betrayed you. you see the boy you fell in love with. the one you shared your first date with. your first kiss with. your first everything.

you didn't realize how much you missed him.

whenever you thought of matt while with someone else, you thought it was because your heart still ached from the betrayal. you didn't know you were actually aching for him to return to you.

"why should i even trust anything you're saying?" you ask him, your voice coming out softer than you wanted.

"because i still love you, y/n." matt says, stepping closer to you and reaching up to hold your face in his hands. "and i don't think i could ever love someone else other than you."

you lean into his touch, wanting to keep him here with you forever.

"i'm willing to give you a second chance." you say. "but i have a few conditions."

matt nods, "anything."

"don't expect me to forgive and forget everything so easily." you tell him, stepping closer to him until your noses are brushing. "you need to work for my love and prove that you genuinely want me back.

"of course, y/n." he says.

you press your lips to his, feeling everything click into place. this is where you're meant to be. this is is who you're meant to be with. this is perfect.

tags : @kasqnxx

[levisolace]

[1] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 1: Windex and Baking Soda

WC: 7,182 Chapter Warnings: slight angst Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. story masterlist > next chapter

“It’s always my pleasure, Mr. Brown.”

The corporate smile on your face drops as soon as you hit the end button in the video call application on your laptop. It was the first meeting of the day with a client and you were already exhausted, wanting nothing but to go home and curl up in bed, heavily surrounded by your pillows and weighted blanket for hours. But you know that’s a dream that would remain a fantasy for a while. Why? Because it’s a Monday. It’s only the start of the week and judging from the pile of paperwork delivered to your desk this morning, you would have to work overtime again for the third week in a row. 

Being recently hired by one of the top leading firms in the country is a blessing you will be thankful for every day but as the week goes by and you’re on your fifth pile of paperwork, more than ten meetings in one week, you can’t help but think what would it be like to work for a small, quiet firm. You shrug those thoughts away as soon as they come. You’re grateful for the more-than-average salary the firm provides, at least.

The day went on as it always does: hours of you trying to ignore your back pain. It was becoming unbearable and you can’t even use the ointments your grandmother used to insist you use because it would no doubt infest the building with its smell—your reputation and first impression from your coworkers is at stake. 

As you’re typing back an email from your superior, Atty. Dot Pixis, you halt when you feel the buzzing on your table. You pick it up mindlessly, checking to see the notification. A smile spreads on your face to see that it’s your previous boss, Vanessa. 

hey. how’s working with the big leagues?? pixis is not tiring you out too much is he?? i can give him a word if you want.

pixis is treating me really well, nes. thank u for checking up on me! i miss everyone there at the firm and little ian :(( 

Vanessa, besides being your former boss back in Olsen & Associates, is also your friend and self-proclaimed older sister. She's a well-known attorney, and Olsen is a legend back in law school because she’s an alumnus who’s actually cool and doesn’t have their head up their asses. However, after deciding to settle down and start a family, she opened up a small firm in her hometown. 

i might just have to visit bc i miss my little sis :(( should’ve never let u leave

technically, it’s your fault i left 

i know :( don't remind me

Two months ago, Vanessa told you that ODM is hiring and Pixis contacted her to see if she knows anyone to take the job. Your jaw dropped to the ground when she told you she recommended you and you can send in your resume if you’re interested. It was an offer no one could pass up so before you knew it, you were being hauled into a hours-long bus ride and then anxiously seated for an interview in the city you used to live in. And after about a week of being a nervous wreck waiting for their response, you were contacted that you’ve been selected for the position.

Now here you are, finally settled in your office. You still can’t believe you have your own space in this huge building. You would’ve never thought you’d be working here in the firm you only used to stare at in awe while passing by years ago. 

Although, you have to admit that you miss the warm feeling of the small firm where you all know each other, exchange heartfelt greetings, and gossip when there are not too many clients. Now, you pass by a new face every now and then, most not even bothering to greet you or spare you a look. You can’t blame them. The work here is drastic. 

By the time you left the office, it’s already dark and way past office hours. As you were driving home, you remembered you still needed a few supplies in your apartment. You haven’t exactly settled yourself in, prioritizing work more. God, you even still had a few boxes to unpack. 

You stopped by a 24-hour supermarket that you spotted on your way to work this morning when you had to reroute because of the traffic. It was a little out of the way but it would do. It was still two hours before midnight, anyway.

As you drag your feet through the aisles and drop whatever you felt like you needed in the cart, unwanted memories come creeping in. The air in Paradis City is still the same. Even if a few buildings might have changed or some stores you used to frequent have closed down, it was still the same Paradis you knew—a buzzing city filled with dreams. The streets are never empty, famously congested by students from top universities or office workers. 

When you got the offer for the job, you weighed out the pros and cons. There were only two cons you were able to determine:

You don’t want to leave Olsen & Associates and Vanessa’s hometown, Trost, and

You’d be going back to your hometown, the one you promised not to go back to. 

The pros outweigh the cons, obviously. That weight being the thick fat salary you would be getting. Besides, Paradis is huge and has like three million residents. It’s not like you’d cross paths with him. And it’s been years. He probably forgot all about you anyway. You barely think about him. It was just a silly puppy-love relationship. No biggie.

Keep telling yourself that.

Shut up. 

“That one’s better.”

A voice directed to you made you snap out of your thoughts. It made you painfully aware of how you had been staring at the two options of green tea in your hand for probably more than the normal minutes it takes one to decide. The tall brunette had on a face mask covering half his face, his hair parted in the middle, and he wore a simple light blue button-down and black slacks. He was about two feet away from you when he pointed at the tea canister in your right hand. 

“Oh. Thanks,” you replied sheepishly. Desperate to run away from the embarrassment of zoning out in the middle of a public space, you take his advice and put down the canister on your left hand back to the shelf. 

“You’re welcome. I see my friend drinking it all the time so it has to be good,” he nods and you see his cheeks prop up, probably sporting a smile beneath the mask. You smiled back and thanked him again.

“Can you grab that one for me?” He points at a sweet one, a flavor in contrast with the green tea you chose. It was on the shelf being blocked by your cart beside you. You quickly mutter an apology and reach for a can. 

“My fiancée prefers her tea fruity,” he explains even if you didn’t ask, his ears tinted a bit red from his own statement. You immediately find it endearing. He seems very fond of his partner as he continues to babble about her. “Well actually, she prefers coffee with an unhealthy amount of espresso shots but I eventually persuaded her to drink tea once in a while.” 

“Moby! I know we usually don’t get this brand but guess what? This has a free pink sponge!” 

You freeze at the sound of that awfully loud and familiar cheerful voice heading towards you at a fast pace. You couldn’t turn your head. Your fingers unconsciously grip the can you’re holding harshly with wide eyes. Silently, you were wishing that the person just had the same voice as the crazed tall woman with glasses you used to know or the man beside you isn’t named ‘Moby.’ The former would hardly be the case because from the sound of the voice, the personality of being uncaring of the silent atmosphere of the supermarket, and the way she ran excitedly from your peripheral vision, you were sure that this person was your old friend Hange. For the latter, your last hope dies down as you see the stranger turn his head at the sound of his name and reply with a sigh.

“What the hell are you gonna do with a sponge, babe? We have lots of sponges.”

“Okay but imagine! We swap out Levi’s sponge with a pink one.” 

“I don’t think Levi cares about the color as long as it cleans.”

The fight or flight response in you went crazy at the mention of the name you haven’t heard in years, heavily leaning on the former. You could just hand this guy named Moby’s tea and make a run for it. You doubt Hange would care while being heavily invested in her free pink sponge. 

But why would you run? You only run when you’re scared or did something wrong. Which is it? It can't be the latter, right? 

I did. 

Oh? So you did. You’re scared, huh? That she’d get angry at you for what you did back then. 

I am. 

Run then. That’s all you know to do anyway.

Shut up. Leave me alone. 

“Miss? Are you okay?” 

For the second time in front of the same stranger, you were snapped out of your trance and find yourself gripping the can so hard that you think you’ve made a light dent on the can. Damn, you should really get a decent amount of sleep. You’ve been losing it a lot lately. 

You shake your head and slap your cheek lightly with your free hand. “Sorry. Lack of sleep. I’m fine. Here.” 

You turn to him and hand him the can, hoping he wouldn’t mind the barely noticeable dent you made. Purposely, you don’t stray your eyes away from the man. You don’t want to be the first person to acknowledge Hange. Maybe she doesn’t even remember you. Maybe she doesn’t even want to acknowledge you. 

“Greenie?” 

It was more of a mutter. But with how loud Hanji’s voice is, you and Moby clearly heard it. 

That’s when you look at her and actually see her. She looks the same as you saw her last. Her brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and her brown eyes were covered by thick-rimmed glasses. Nothing much has changed from her appearance except for the disappearance of the youthful look now replaced by maturity. Her gaze is fixed on you, slack-jawed. Her reaction doesn’t surprise or faze you, having expected that much. It’s what would follow that you’re nervous about. What would she say? Will she get angry at you? Or will she even remember who you are? Somehow, you dread that last possible outcome worst. 

“H-Hange,” you breathily let out. You wonder if it’s audible. 

Her fiancé also looks shocked, staring at you and then back to Hanji with widened eyes. “This is Greenie? The Greenie?” He points at you while asking Hange who was still frozen. His tone and reference to you immediately tell you that you have been discussed with people you never met, no doubt now knowing your past with them. 

Greenie. You haven’t heard that nickname in a while. 

It was silent for a few seconds, eyes not straying from each other. You probably look apologetic—scared, even. The man beside her is waiting too. You think he’s having a mini breakdown in disbelief. 

When you see her start to lunge at you, you shut your eyes, expecting her palm to collide with your cheek. You expect her to slap you and scream at you in the middle of the cold supermarket. You expect her to ask you where you got the nerve to come back to the city after all you’ve done. 

Instead, what she did broke down all your expectations. 

Long and slender arms wrap around your figure, pulling you tightly to her chest. Your face is squished against the fabric of her fluffy parka jacket. Even if you suddenly have trouble breathing with how tight her hug is, you were thankful that it covered your face and how you were biting your lower lip, trying to suppress the relief that comes with tears.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

You couldn’t even answer. Or move at all. Not that you even know what to say. 

“Hange. You’re killing her.” You hear her partner say. Hange instantly loosens her grip on you, muttering an apology with a slight chuckle. When she looks down at you, you give her a gentle smile.

“I missed you too, Hange.” And you meant it. 

The tall woman was still not letting you go, arms wrapped just below your shoulders because of the height difference. Even if you were caged in her arms, you can still tilt your head up to look at her. Suddenly, tears started streaming down her face as she tilts her head down to you, her mouth quivering. Then it turns into full-on sobbing. You chuckle as she starts swaying you with her, going side to side like a pendulum as she sobs while wailing your name repeatedly. 

There was no stopping Hange when she gets like this. So you let it happen. You let her hug you like she did many times before. You relish the moment, wanting to pass out and let loose in her hold. Maybe you’re dreaming and you’ll wake up in your bed, filled with disappointment and yearning for some warmth.

When she was satisfied, she let you go and introduced you to Moblit, her fiancé and coworker. They walked with you as you continued to shop, telling you stories about her and Moblit. Thankfully for your sake, she didn’t ask you much about yourself or what happened when you were away. She just asked how you were doing right now and what you were doing in the city. Although you were scared that the news would get to him, you told her the truth that you recently got hired at the law firm. 

“So you moved back then? Like permanently?” Her brows raised in excitement. 

“Well, I have a temporary contract for six months before I’m permanently employed there so hopefully,” you shrug while heading to checkout. As expected, Hange doesn’t care that you practically explained that it’s technically a ‘not yet,’ she shrieks and jumps up and down anyway. 

“Oh my god, this is perfect! Greenie, one of my bridesmaids had to back out but we already had the dress paid and it’s a no-refund. Can you step in for her and attend our wedding? Would you? Please? Please?” Hange begs you, hands clasped together as she stares at you with puppy eyes and a pout. 

You stop in your tracks and feel your heart sink to the ground. She wants you to attend her wedding knowing that many, if not everyone, you used to know will be there. And if his name was so casually mentioned earlier, that meant that they were still very much best friends and he would definitely be there.

And a few minutes ago you were convincing yourself that you wouldn’t accidentally run into him in this city. Now, you have to actually see him and be in the same room for a few hours? 

You start with a chuckle. “Oh. I wouldn’t mean to impose—” 

You were abruptly overpowered by her loud negation. “No, you wouldn’t! Everyone would be ecstatic to see you! I swear.” 

“But—“

Hange sighs dramatically, shoulders slumping with a pout on her face. “I guess it’d be too much, wouldn’t it? You’re probably busy, right? Right. Sorry, I just got excited.” She turns to her boyfriend. “Moby, can you pay for our stuff and Greenie’s too?” 

“What?”

Your eyes widened but before you could protest or take a strong hold on your cart, Moblit was already dragging it away and sending a flying kiss to Hange who giggled like a schoolgirl to catch it with her fist. You turn to her in disbelief as he turns his back. She catches your face, knowing what you’re about to say. 

“It’s fine. That won’t make a dent in his bank account.”

Just like that, you were painfully reminded how no one could get a word in with Hange. 

“Un-fucking-believeable.” 

Niccolo, the training chef, flinched from behind him when the silver-eyed man let out an unprovoked profanity as he entered the restaurant. Connie, his loyal secretary, doesn’t even bat an eye at the unprofessional behavior of his boss, only following behind him with a straight face. 

“Shithead. Call Nile later. Tell him I want a new team on this…” his words halt in disgust as he sees the unfinished, poorly done walls of what was to be a new branch of Kuchel’s. “or I’ll fire his stupid construction company out of every damn project. Verbatim.” 

“Will do, sir.” Connie nods, mentally sighing. Not only is he used to hearing the profanities, but he’s also used to being ordered to say it too. 

Levi nods at his secretary’s response, eager to leave the abomination that was supposed to be at 80% progress at this date. As he turns, he’s faced with Connie and a blonde man he doesn’t know. 

“Who’s this?” 

The blonde man practically shivered at his haze, the corner of his lips twitching at the sides. It was a sad attempt at a smile. Mentally, Connie sighed at his boss’ unfocused mind when there was something that greatly irritates him. The trainee chef was just literally in the car with them and Levi told Connie to bring the chef with them on the way to check the new location. 

“This is Niccolo, sir. He was in the car with us. He’s the one highly considered by the HR,” Connie expertly answered. 

“So you’re on the last stage,” Levi addresses Niccolo. The nervous man gulps but answers. “Yes, sir.” 

Connie watches the exchange, feeling a bit of pity for the tall man cowering at the gaze of such a short guy with a temper taller than a skyscraper. He was exactly like this when Levi interviewed him for the position. 

“Sorry, I had to make a detour because some shitheads can’t do their job right. Let’s go.” 

And so Niccolo and Connie followed the grumpy man back to the vehicle they just got not even three minutes ago. 

Not that he knew what to expect or had guesses but Niccolo was utterly surprised that he was brought to the first Kuchel’s restaurant. The legendary one that went viral. 

When he passed by the reception area, his eyes widened when he saw the reservation list filled with no spots left. It was practically booked for the month from what he saw. 

The kitchen smelled amazing, each one of the cooks was busy and they actually looked happy while working. They worked with so much coordination and laughter like he had never seen before. 

He thought that he’d train or cook with them today, seeing as they’re Kuchel’s main branch’s team. He was excited too. But again, Levi surprises him when he pushes another door open from the kitchen, revealing a staircase. The man says nothing but climbs upstairs. 

Confused but too scared to ask, Niccolo only stares at Connie but who beckons him to follow him up the stairs. When he sees Levi take a glance behind him, his feet move on its own, following the cold short man’s steps.

He sees a living room first. It’s a simple home but maintained well enough to look pristine. He kept on following Levi as he eventually led him to a kitchen. Levi turned to him and he’d be lying if he said that his heart didn’t jump at his sudden order. 

“Do whatever you like. You have an hour.” 

And then he leaves the kitchen, leaving Niccolo confused as he looks around at the domestic kitchen. He sees Connie, Levi’s assistant aggressively mouthing the words ‘cook anything’ as he follows Levi back to the living room. 

“Good job. I think he liked it.” 

Connie whispers to Niccolo before he leaves. Normally, he isn’t allowed to tell the training chefs what Levi thinks. But he’s feeling a little silly and Niccolo is his friend and his best friend, Sasha’s, boyfriend. 

Just like all the other training chefs, Levi brought Niccolo to his old home to cook something for him. Levi is hella picky with them but Connie could see that he actually liked his friend’s food. There was no pursing of lips, which was the worst of them all. Connie had to scramble and get the trainee out before he burst the room into a myriad of colorful words no one wants to hear. 

When they got back to the office, Hange was already there and most probably uninvited. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, four eyes?” 

Levi’s eyes were seething with annoyance as he sees his friend sitting at his desk on his chair, spinning around like an idiot. It was hard to believe that this woman is a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. 

“Shorty! You’re here!” She exclaimed, slamming her hands down on the fine wood of Levi’s desk to stop the chair from spinning. 

“Get the fuck up before I strangle you to death, Hange.” 

Hange chuckles but stands up anyway, skipping before plopping herself on the couch in Levi’s office. “Can you relax? I was just here to remind you that I’m getting married.” 

Levi groans and rolls his eyes. “Who would fucking forget, Hange? You text a fucking countdown at seven in the morning in the group chat tagged to everyone. The mute option has been fucking useless since you learned how to do it.” 

Levi sits down on his chair and switches on his computer to return to work despite his friend’s unsolicited visit to his office. 

“Oh! I wanted to ask you something too! Do you have a date for the wedding? So I can take note of a plus one, maybe?” 

He gives a blank stare to his friend for a second before turning back to his screen. “You know you can ask me that through a phone call, right?” He began typing away on his laptop, answering a few emails Connie forwarded to him. 

“Well, you blocked my number so I thought that you’d rather see me in person.” Hange shrugs with a grin.

Levi pauses, remembering that he did block Hange’s number that one night she insisted for he come over and watch a horror movie with Erwin and Moblit. He was working and couldn’t turn his phone on do not disturb mode so he had to specifically block Hange’s calls. He then proceeds to forget to unblock her until now. 

“So, no date?” Hange presses further. 

Levi grunts, annoyed at the stupid question. “Who the fuck am I gonna bring? It’s not like I’m gonna bring a random girl to your wedding, Hange.” 

“You totally could. They’re called escorts,” Hange suggests like a know-it-all.

“I don’t want a random stranger in your wedding pictures, four eyes.” 

“I would rather have that than see you so depressing in my pictures with your bitch face. Oh! Want me to set you up on a blind date?” Hange’s voice rises again, something that happens when she gets excited over an idea. 

“Fuck no,” Levi spat. 

“Your last serious relationship was decades ago, Levi. Give it a try again.” 

If looks could kill, funeral flowers would be thrown at Hange’s casket instead of wedding flowers. His fingers hover over the keyboard, hanging frozen at her words. At the mere implication of you, his blood boils and his chest tightens. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Well–”

“Are you saying I’m not over her again, Hange?” 

Before she could answer, the door swung open, revealing a tall blonde man with thick eyebrows who was grinning cheek to cheek. Great. Erwin’s here. Maybe they could send a few more uninvited people, order greasy pizza, and have a party in his office. 

“Over who?” Erwin asks, ever the gossip man. Levi grunts and rests his forehead in his palms as Hange greets Erwin enthusiastically before answering.

“You know who.”

Erwin narrows his eyes at Levi before sitting down on the other edge of the couch. Hange tells him about getting a blind date. “You could try, Hange. I’ve set him up with surprise blind dates before and you know how that went.” 

“Can you two fucking shut up and leave? I’m trying to work here,” Levi spat in annoyance. The pair ignores his grumbling, carrying on their conversation like he wasn’t in the room.

“But I have never set him up with someone before,” Hange points out. 

Erwin purses his lips. “I doubt that you can find a girl better than me, Hange. I tried everything.” 

Erwin and Hange look at each other with mischief, clearly enjoying Levi’s suffering from their teasing. He knows they won’t stop. If anything, it only egged them on further.

Hange places a finger on her chin obnoxiously. “Maybe you could ask the girl to wear green next time.” 

Erwin nods, crossing his arms like he’s actually considering it. “Absolutely. We all know Levi still loves his greenie.” 

God, even her nickname is a pain to hear. 

Levi slams a hand down his mahogany desk so loud that people outside his office probably heard it. It didn’t faze his friends who were snickering on the couch though. They know he’s about to blow. He’s so frustrated that he almost ran a finger through his well-kept hair but caught himself before damaging it, exhaling loudly in frustration before speaking. 

“Look, you dipshits. I told you a thousand times. Forget about that damned woman. I’m not dating because I’m goddamn busy with all these expansions, not because I’m not over a girl who left us all without a fucking trace.” Every word is laced with venom and he ends it with a huff. 

“Fine. We get it. You’re over her but you’re still angry at her.” Hange rolls her eyes. 

Levi doesn’t know exactly when they started referring to her as mere stories or inside jokes. But evidently, it turned out that way. They used to be hurt at the thought of her disappearing. Slowly, they started to forget. Except him. He’s still angry and confused when he thinks of a reason why. 

“I am,” he admits.

“And if she comes to see you again? What will you do?” 

This question again, Levi thinks. 

He sighs. Like an automated machine, he answers the question as he did a myriad of times before, the first being the answer to one of your stupid games of what-if questions when you were together. Most were just ways to make him say those damn three words to you. It was usually just dumb things like “What if I was a worm?” and he would roll his eyes and tell you that he would unhesitatingly kill you before kissing you when you frown in disappointment. One question, however, deeply offended him more than anything. 

“Levi, what if I asked you to break up with me?” 

You were sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs, still reeling from the sad romantic movie the two of you watched where the disabled paralyzed man still decides to die even after he fell in love with his caregiver. 

Levi, who’s in the middle of choosing another movie from your collection of DVDs, freezes in his seat. He doesn’t turn to look at you but you see his whole body tensed up having heard what you said.

“What if we break up like that?” 

You repeat the question with a pout on your lips. Levi finally looks at you with a frown on his face. He sighs and looks away, gaze lifting up for a second as if he’s thinking. 

“No,” he answers even if the question upsets him. “We’re not gonna break up.”

You noticed that his mood falters from your question.  Feeling a little bad, you wrap a hand around his bicep, pulling yourself close to his side. With a smile, you lean in and give him a peck on the cheek. “Don’t be sad. It was just hypothetical.”

He instantly leans unto you. He always does so when you’re near—like opposite sides of a magnet being pulled together by force. He always wants to be near you.

“Can you just go back to stupid questions like the worm shit?” He asks with a low voice, faces too close to each other that his lips could brush yours. 

You give him a teasing grin and hum, nodding but doing the exact opposite of what he asked. Ever his stubborn girl, you continue asking. “But what if I leave you?” 

He glares at you, not very pained this time, knowing it’s just you teasing again. Instead, his brows furrowed as he gazed down at you with his silver eyes. His eyes flick down to your lips and his lower lip brushes against yours for a millisecond. When you were sure he was about to kiss you, he shoves a hand at your face and pushes you away with a little force, making you land on the couch on your back. 

You laugh but curse him out loud for his attack. Levi huffs, crossing his arms and looking away. 

“If you do that, I will ignore you for the rest of my fucking life. You’re dead to me.” He says it with so much conviction that you know he doesn’t mean a word of it. 

You sit up again, frowning then lightly slapping his shoulder. “That’s rude. What if I come back to see you, then?” 

He scoffs loudly, still looking away from you, and spots his box of cleaning supplies. Then, he says the second thing that comes into his mind, thinking that the first one he thought of would seem desperate and pathetic of him. 

He opens his mouth to speak and the words you hear from him causes an ever louder laugh out of you. He smiles before pushing you on your back again. This time, pulling himself on top of you and sealing your lips with a kiss. 

“I’d spray her with some fucking Windex, throw baking soda on her stupid face, and kick her out.” 

Usually, the statement is so funny to them that it ends the conversation. Sometimes, he even gives them a demonstration where one of their unlucky friends gets to be on the receiving end. But this time, Erwin has a follow-up question that goes straight to Levi’s chest.

“And if she insists on staying? What will you do?” 

Levi went quiet. Hange and Erwin give a knowing sad look at each other that Levi doesn’t catch. They didn’t mean to push him this hard. But they had to know if he was ready. 

From just outside his door where Connie’s desk is placed, his secretary listens in as well. He heard about his boss’ ex. The whole office knows about it. His mysterious ex and the only woman Levi Ackerman loved. That was what everyone knew. But from spending too much time with his boss more than he wanted to, Connie had learned the following about his boss’ only relationship:

Her nickname is Greenie because she liked green tea. Levi prefers black tea but he accidentally told you he liked green tea too then ran with it for four months until Hanji revealed the truth accidentally.

The four of them knew each other for a long time. He doesn’t know if they met in high school or college. But in school, definitely.

After getting their undergraduate degree, she asked Levi to break up and broke his heart with words.

After the breakup, she disappeared from Paradis. Levi waited for her for a long time, broken and yearning. She didn’t come back. Now, all Levi has is bitterness in his body.

Those are what Connie gathered from his little detective skills to cope with having to work under the horribly mannered man. Then, he shares it with his best friend, Sasha, during his lunch break. 

He listens a little more, the email he was reading sitting idle for longer than it should. His boss still doesn’t answer. 

Inside, Erwin and Hange await their friend’s reply who is still lost in his own thoughts. Erwin decides to push him one last time. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 

“If she comes to you for closure, will you accept it? You’re over her, right? You can stay angry, that’s valid. She did you wrong. But will you at least hear her?” 

Levi keeps quiet but listens to Erwin. The word closure gives his stomach an unsettling feeling. It felt wrong to hear it. But it doesn’t matter. His friends were just bored and bluffing again. He can bluff too. 

“I don’t really care about her as much as you think I still do. When I see her, I’ll do what I said I would. Then it’s done. I don’t care what she does anymore.” 

It’s been five days since you coincidentally met Hange and Moblit. Before you parted ways, you exchanged numbers and your old friend has been messaging you nonstop. You appreciated it. Hange was always light-hearted and kind. You’re glad she found someone who appreciates her and takes care of her. So when she mentioned that there was a conflict with the invitations, you offered to fix it for her, knowing a thing or two about it. You handled project management a few times as an intern. 

There was once a time when you called her your best friend. You know that’s a title you no longer hold but either way, you were glad to talk to her again. Even if you know that in the very near future, you would have to face what it holds for you. Now that Hange is back in your life, it’s only a matter of time and you’d have to see your ex again. You lie awake at night thinking of what you’d do then. 

It was Saturday. That means no work for you after lunch, thankfully. You ground through your paper works and clients like a corporate machine all week, wanting to finish them before Saturday so you wouldn’t have to go overtime on a weekend. And after about nine cups of highly caffeinated green tea, you finally finished all your work for the week. Now free from the shackles of labor and capitalism, you slung your tote bag over your shoulder and headed out of your office and onto the elevator. 

Passing by Pixis’ office, you inform him you’re taking your leave which he cheerfully allowed, wishing you a happy weekend before you left his office. You bid him to have the same and left the building, anxious to see through the next events of the day. If this was a normal weekend, you’d be content with wasting away in bed as soon as you rushed home. 

You handled the invitations over the week, using your break time to oversee how it’s going with the printing service you trust for things like this. They generously accepted your request for a rush order, knowing who you are. 

The invitations were piled into a box on your coffee table by Friday, ready to be sent out to Hange’s guests. When you texted Hange that they were ready, she sent over her apartment’s address, telling you to personally meet her there on Saturday after work. She argues when you tell her you can just send it in the same day through an app, whining about how she wants to hang out with you. 

Hange, ever the persuasive and persistent person, got you to agree. That, and you still feel guilty for declining her invitation to her wedding. 

After you press the doorbell, you wait patiently with your left hand holding the small box of invitations. Her apartment was apparently a penthouse. An apartment in this building already costs an arm and a leg. Hange is smart and talented, one of her research must’ve been really successful. You also remembered that she was probably living with Moblit here. Ah, the wonders of having a partner in life—shared rent. Maybe you should get a roommate. 

When the door was taking too long to be answered, you shoot up a text for Hange. 

hey i’m here outside ur door ! :)) 

ok! just wAit a bit

It didn’t take Hange long to reply, easing your anxiety a little. When it takes more than a minute after she sends her text, you tilt your head in confusion. Are you at the correct address? Maybe you’re at the wrong unit. You were pretty sure you were on the right one, though. You rechecked it a few times. 

You wait a little bit more before ringing the doorbell again. You assume she’s probably grossed into something and can’t take the door at the moment. With a sigh, you wait a few more minutes, turning away from the door and deciding to scroll through your social media accounts that you barely use. 

A smile involuntarily plasters itself on your face when you see the posts of your coworkers from Trost. Warmth spreads to your chest as you see the office through the pictures, reminiscing your time there. It’s suddenly frightening, the realization that you’re alone in this huge city with no one to turn to. It’s a feeling you’re awfully familiar with, a state you’d rather not return to. 

When you feel yourself drift away to those thoughts, you pull yourself away immediately, figuring that the time you waited should be enough to press the doorbell again. 

But as you turn around to press it for the second time, the door swings open harshly in a swift motion, making you jump a little in surprise and fear as you hear an annoyed groan from a man that is most definitely not Hange coming with it. 

“For fuck’s sake. Did Hange give a woman my addre…”

The two of you froze. 

The raven-dark hair parted in the middle. The undercut. Those gray eyes and his beautiful piercing gaze. Those high cheekbones and soft cheeks. Those furrowed brows and scrunched forehead that was softly dissipated from his face when he sees you standing behind the door. Those delicate pink lips, now parted in awe and mirroring yours.

Neither of you can move like you were frozen in time. Every muscle in your body refused to move. Your brain stopped functioning and wasn't even able to conjure a coherent thought, much less a response. The only thing you could do was stare at the man you once called home. 

He still had dark under eyes but they were more prominent than before. You hate how it still suited him even if you hated how little he sleeps; they make his gaze heavier, willing you to get lost with him. A few strands of his fringe fall over his eyes. They were a little longer than what you were used to but it was still the same haircut you used to run your hand over when you were cuddling. It was a little unkempt. And even though his white shirt is a little crumpled, it still smoothly falls over his frame. It drapes from his defined shoulders to his waist until the hem of the shirt goes over the band of his gray sweatpants that hugged his legs loosely. 

He breaks the gaze spell when his eyes go over you, top to bottom. He stares at your shocked and devastated countenance, the casual but decent clothes that you changed into after work, the box in your hand, and the way your right foot has stepped further back than your left when he opened the door, ready to run away at the thought the man who opened the door was angry. 

You open your mouth to speak. You know you have to say something. Anything. Hi? Hello? How are you? Is this where Hange lives? Why the fuck do you still look so hot? 

But none of that comes out.

Why? 

Levi’s face hardens before you can speak, wiping off the bewildered eyes and replacing them with his infamous glare, silver eyes glistening with specks of anger. His mouth closes into a frown but not before scoffing at you. The scorned expression on his face shuts you right up for a second but you try and carry on.

This time, before you can speak, he slams the door shut in your face with an impact so loud it booms through your whole being enough to raise all the hair on your skin, leaving you standing there in his floor’s corridor appalled and deeply belittled.

Your startled brain is more confused than ever. As you decide to slowly process what happened and not even ten seconds after he harshly shuts his door, it swings open again, revealing the same man who not-so-gently shut it, with a hand still on the knob and the other holding something blue.

His arm outstretched towards you and you were faced with a nozzle of a familiar spray bottle. With a straight face, he sprays the fucking liquid right on your face. You immediately shut your eyes and mouth, leaning your face away from the spray. Although it’s far enough to not cover your face if you hadn’t moved, you still cringe when you feel the tiny droplets on your skin.

You lift one eye open, scared that he’s about to spray again. He puts the bottle down to his side, looking satisfied with his work. When you open both eyes, he shuts the door again, leaving you in the corridor with heightened emotions from the first time he did it paired with an itching aggravation. 

Was that a fucking Windex? 

Hold on. Windex? 

The door swings open again and he fully reveals himself without a hand on the knob like the two times before. This time he’s holding an orange cardboard box labeled Pure Baking Soda and reaches into it with his other hand. 

You shut your eyes close immediately, realizing what was happening when you remembered his words to you years ago. 

“I’d spray you with some fucking Windex, throw baking soda on your face, and kick you out.” 

The baking soda hits your face, making your nose involuntarily scrunch up because of the fistful of powder he threw at you. When you guess that he’s satisfied after successfully throwing you the promised baking soda, you blink your eyes open, finding him still standing there with a straight face. 

“Are you done?” you asked with a deadpan face, covered with baking soda.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

[lovezbrownies]

Yandere! Chief Assistant

Not very yandere yet! There's another post incoming that delves deeper into Yan and reader's relationship here

Name: Siolis Ludenhart

TW: Not much just one monarch being an ass.

Siolis never really enjoyed their job, they trained and worked hard for it sure, but did they like it? Hell no. Siolis works their ass off for a boss they despise, at least they have a team of subordinates who they like as well. The public know about Siolis, they know how much Queen Nia depends on them, but they don’t know the handful of other assistants Queen Nia has. Queen Nia doesn’t like to work, people praise her for being able to work while also keeping up a social life but she has never worked in her life, since she’s been coronated she had always had a group of assistants working in the shadows, with the best of these twelve assistants being chosen to be the primary chief assistant, being paraded around in public, a buttload of paperwork to do, and having to deal with Queen Nia’s breakdowns daily. 

Yet, as old hires get tired of being overworked and bossed they leave and we have to find new hires for the positions lost, as Siolis searches for a new assistant a certain applicant caught their attention, Y/n L/n, Y/n’s accomplishments and education seemed adequate enough to hire. While Siolis didn’t immediately fall in love with Y/n after seeing the picture attached to their application they can still admit that Y/n was attractive, with eyes that bore into your soul and an endearing smile. Little did Siolis know that the moment they meet will be the first time Siolis will ever feel romantic love for an individual.

Come the day the interview was scheduled, Siolis sat in their private office, though they never stay too long in there, much preferring the comfort of their talkative coworkers than the silence of an empty office. A series of knocks at the door interrupted Siolis’s train of thoughts, ‘’Enter.” Siolis’s voice echoed throughout the office, the door opened showing the applicant as well as one of the other assistants, “Come in, Y/n.’’ Siolis’s eyes never left Y/n’s frame as they move towards where Siolis was sitting, Y/n sat down on the chair adjacent to Siolis’s desk.

It’s been hours since that interview ended, it went well, Siolis can tell they work hard and need the job, however there was one issue. The fact Siolis can’t seem to stop thinking about Y/n, their voice, their face, their mannerisms, their expressions, every small thing they do would make Siolis’s heart skip a beat. It was so frustratingly hard to focus on anything except for their eyes, oh their eyes… It would be difficult to work with Y/n if Siolis can’t function near them, and yet it feels like if they aren’t near Y/n then that would be even more difficult. Maybe it’s best to hire them, if Siolis doesn’t then how will they keep their cool knowing some other person hired them? What if they get hired by a creep? Oh Siolis couldn’t do that, they live and work for the people so obviously, to save this poor creature from suffering at the hands of a creepy boss they will hire them.

Maybe Y/n can help Siolis get used to their office if they sit there with Siolis. It would also be best if Y/n followed Siolis everywhere, even to important meetings with Queen Nia and all the other nations of the world. If anything Queen Nia owes them at least this, they need their own personal assistant, Y/n, because if they don’t then they’ll be overwhelmed and won’t be able to work, now we wouldn’t want that do we? No no not at all! Maybe they can sit in each other’s laps while working, it would double work efficiency and the other can spot any mistakes in the paperwork !

[weepinglavenders]

Killer Café

Chapter One: Off Schedule

There she is again. Why is she here again? Can’t she drink her bland ass coffee with her clique as hell book at some other café?!

These are my thoughts as I scowl at the back of Quincy Mae’s head from behind the counter of the café I work at. I knew her order by heart now and the exact table she sat at every day until 10:30.

This woman practically haunted my working hours whether on purpose or not. As far as I could tell, it wasn’t intentional, the well known photographer just seemed to have impeccable timing.

“Humphrey? Are you plotting on murdering one of our regulars again?”

I look over at Nat, my coworker and friend.

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure if Quincy turns around, your glare would turn her to stone.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

I glance back at the woman who sat by the large picture window, looking like the most ordinary book-tok girl I’d ever seen. Couldn’t she go to a Barnes and Nobles or something? Why this store?

I turn away and go back to my job. Now, I didn’t hate Quincy. In truth, I had never talked to the woman outside of her normal greeting and order before she sat down. However, there was something about her walk and actions that irritated me. It was like watching a bird trying to perform a mating dance to a branch - she wanted attention but got radio silence instead.

Her hair was up in a messy bun, the thinnest about of make up around her hazel eyes and her unscented lip balm the only thing coloring her lips. She had a white sweater (why would you drink coffee with a sweater on?) and jeans on, along with the most unused hiking boots I’d ever seen outside of a shoe store. I glance over at her book but I could tell what it was, maybe it was fantasy. She seemed like the type of person who’d read fairy smut in public at nine in the morning.

My break was almost upon me and I prayed the clock would move faster as another regular came in, Stephan.

“Heya Humphrey, the usual, yeah?”

Why are you asking me like I’m the one ordering? I smile and nod, starting to make the 16oz hot mocha even though, despite it being fall, it was 58 degrees outside.

“Humphrey?”

“Hm?”

“I’m supposed to pay first.”

I look over at Stephan and the pin pad that was still tucked beside the register away from him. Maybe I’ll hold your drink hostage. Maybe you and your crooked nose don’t deserve this bitter ass coffee.

I clench my jaw and turn the pin pad to him. He taps his card and, as always, doesn’t tip. Cheapskate. I resume making his coffee and hand it to him after the sleeve is slipped on. He opens his mouth to double check that I made the mocha right but I hold up my hand and stop him.

“If I haven’t messed up your simple order the first two months you’ve come in, Stephan, I can assure you I haven’t messed it up today either.”

He closes his mouth, giving an awkward nod before turning and sitting down.

“You’re extra salty today, Humph. Did someone but sea salt instead of sugar into your latte this morning?”

Nat teases me from beside the espresso machine. I wave her off and run a hand through my short yet fluffy dark brown hair.

10:30 arrived and like clockwork Quincy arouse from her seat by the window, throwing away her plastic cup and walking out. A minute later it was time for my break.

Lark trades spots with me and I leave him and Natalie to man the café as I walk outside.

Now I could sit on the stairs, listen to music, and pray that my hour after my break would go by fast.

That was what I always did so I expect nothing as I walked down the steps of the back exit of the shop.

And then I froze.

My eyes landed on the man sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs, blood pooled under his head. I stare hard a long. I walk down another step slowly and stop again.

The man’s eyes were wide and blue, the rounded glasses broken and slightly slanted up on his nose. He was on his side, his left arm outstretched on the pavement, his legs in position that almost looked like he was in mid stride of a run.

I take another step. This man had no hair which made the drying blood on the skin even more noticeable. He was in a brown tweed jacket and jeans with flat black shoes on. Not a professional business man but definitely in something technical. The longer I stared the longer my fingers began to itch with the need to poke him like a dead animal.

I scold myself for the thought. I should really stop staring at do something before someone else finds him and thinks I killed him. My eyes dart around the back alleyway, and I take a sigh of relief - no one. I open the back door to the café.

“Natalie come here for a moment please!” I call.

The poor blonde appears by the door in seconds and her eyes widen in horror as I point to the man.

Now that seemed like a reasonable reaction and even more so as she started to mutter ‘oh my gods’ repeated as she rushed down the stairs to the man. She reaches out but I grab her wrist.

“You’ll tamper with evidence Nat, he’s clearly dead.”

She stared at me with big blue eyes.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?!”

“I don’t know!”

She grabs my shoulders and shakes me a little.

“What the hell, Humphrey?!”

She pulls away and immediately dials the police. Good call, I probably should’ve done that too. I listen to Nat frantically talk to the police while staring at the bald man. Natalie pockets her phone, starting to pace a little.

“They’ll be here in four minutes”

“Okay..” I responded dumbly which in turn gets me a scowl.

“Are you a sociopath, Humphrey, or are you just in shock?”

“I don’t think either of those answers are correct.” She glares harder and it makes me want to retreat back inside.

“I don’t know..dead things don’t really freak me out” I respond sheepishly, looking at my shoes.

“Dead things?! Humphrey, this is a person! A customer even!”

“Guess our coffee was to die for”

She punches me in the arm and I wince, gripping the spot where she hit me. That was definitely deserved. I was always saying things like that at bad times. I’d call them jokes but they’re never really funny.

After that, we stand in silence until the police arrive, get a report, and close off the café. I watch as they make a chalk outline and begin labeling evidence.

What now?

————————————————————

Story Summary:

Humphrey, a worker at a small café finds a dead body during his break something in his gut tells him the case is odd. His suspicion only growing as he sees a regular at the café, Quincy Mae, taking pictures of the crime scene.

Will they work together or will something less friendly happen?

[ratteni-da-rotten]

A Mouse Among Owls? - Chapter 03

Fandom: Murder Drones

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Neglect

Character appearances: Serial Designation V, Serial Designation J, Uzi Doorman, Serial Designation N

Word Count: 1,149

~

Quiet wings cut through the air. Their owner tightly curled her wiry tail around a random appendage on the metallic carcass collection they called the ceiling. Now hung upside down, the short-haired disassembler tried to mimic the slumbering coworker beside her. The sun had yet to hide and banish the beams of light from the wintery surface, but no worries related to it plagued her mind since she knew their sleeping spot was secure in the darkness.

V was an early waker, and her leader knew that. The murder gal had the “nasty habit” of leaving the spire before anyone could interact with her. However, exceptions weren’t rare, like whenever it was her turn.

Gradually, the air grew colder and snow no longer became so slippery. J’s vents started to work louder, her system was coming alive from apparent stasis. Soft clinks emanated from her winged self-hugging figure and a low groan of what she assumed to be stretching limbs. 

Silence permeated between them. No visual input was needed to indicate she was being stared at, and being perceived in such a manner made her feathers feel like they were boiling under its intensity. Her thoughts were unknown, and that was unnerving.

“What?” V groaned and unshielded her face, “Just take a screenshot if you wanna admire my beauty 24/7.” 

“Urgh, shut up,” The leader narrowed her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You’re still my subordinate, good performance only in the work field can only take you so far,” J curled her lips barely containing herself from straight up baring her teeth. She made a “tch” sound and paused for a few seconds, probably looking at her internal screen for possible information or notifications from the company. Serial Designation J loosened her tail and elegantly flew to the ground. 

“You know the drill; your daily quota was reduced to 43%,” V grudgingly nodded her head. Since they shifted the responsibility between the both of them, the one responsible for the duty was expected to hunt less to avoid burnouts or negligence. Well, at least whatever they considered to be “neglect.”

After all, he never starved under her care… She thinks…

“By the way, avoid eating from the food pile, hunt your own food!” The leader added as she walked to the Spire's entrance. She sighed, hearing the grumbling under V's breath, and marched forward into the night.

“You don't have to remind me every time,” the short-handed drone shouted, not really expecting SD-J to hear her words. Her memory wasn't the best, sometimes she knew something was missing in her memory banks and other times it went unnoticed. Maybe something was broken inside her head. “Eh, most events in my life aren't important anyway, so no use remembering,” she thought.

Now that her boss was gone, V spread her wings and flew back to her “bedroom.” A relieved sigh left her maws when she saw it quiet and behaved. 

V had placed severed drone hands around the silent pill before she left the den, positioning them as if they were cradling the thing. Her hands were much bigger than the ones she picked, but she hoped the size difference wasn’t a noteworthy detail. The purple and white blanket was adjusted around its figure in the hopes of being snug, which meant less chance of waking up wailing due to her small absence. 

Her tail wagged a bit at the adorable sight. She tried to resist taking a visual screenshot but failed. The image was blurry, like everything in her world, but still relatively recognizable. Why was she even taking pictures of it? The disassembler didn’t know. Perhaps it would help her to remember the pill drone while it was still around.

Delicately she lifted the tiny football-shaped being and tapped one of her fingers on its visor. A disgruntled sound left the pill’s voicebox before exiting sleep mode, annoyance quickly replaced by confusion. Curious neon purple eyes analysed her form, taking a better look now that V wasn’t covered in oil and in safe mode. 

A deep sigh left her jaws as she remembered her last coherent thought before drifting asleep the previous morning. Serial Designation V was exhausted when that solution sprouted in her mind. It had risks, but it was the only one she could think of. Loneliness would result in bawling, so it would have to be left with company. “I guess, it would make him happy too…”

She walked out of her room, supporting the little worker with one arm, and stared at his den entrance. Most of the view was blocked by a makeshift curtain made of different fabrics stitched together, its somewhat shabby condition allowed a soft yellow glow to escape through tears and holes. Her tail coiled around a torn drone leg as she approached their destination, it was her turn to feed him after all.

A quick thrust of her wings allowed her to find some handhold, and she climbed the short path to the secretive nest. Happy chirping greeted her the moment she popped her head inside. She simply raised the pill drone in her grasp to meet his eyes, for a minute no sound emitted among them before overwhelming happy warbling danced through the nest.

On the floor, surrounded by colourful sheets and dog plushies, there was a robot almost identically similar to the purple-eyed one. Same egg-like body lacking limbs, although a little bigger. Thrill was evident in his bright squinting neon yellow eyes and small smile. He recognized immediately they were alike in age, the friendly infant hoped they wouldn’t go away like the others!

“N, do you see this?”  V's voice grabbed his attention after swaying the pill side-to-side for emphasis, “It’s food!” 

A question mark appeared on the corner of his visor. Food?! No. When N looked at the other small drone, he didn’t see any resemblance to prey. Actually, they looked like him! And he wasn’t a worker as far as he knew. The only difference he noticed was their eyes, he never had seen anyone with LEDs of that colour. It was different but pretty all the same. 

“No eating it tonight though. You guys can keep each other company while I’m out, right?”

“I mean, at least you’ll have something other than the ceiling to stare at…”, she mumbled and set the tiny worker on the nest facing him. Serial Designation V swiftly left after giving both of them gentle pats on their heads.

Giddy bird-like noises shot from N’s voicebox a mile a minute before he went silent upon noticing his new friend hadn’t uttered a single noise during their whole introduction. Their eyes are hollow accompanied by stress lines. Were… were they upset? He cooed trying to comfort the other drone.

Full of hesitation, she made a confused 8-bit sound resulting in the yellow-eyed pill going full “NEW FRIEND” mode once again.

[sk8termikey]

Chapter 9 of 21 Questions

better interface on wattpad

Lily loml🌻

Bro

The triplets 1st podcast is today

I’m so excited

It seemed awesome already from the trailer last week

I knooow

Kinda mad if it's every monday bc it’s my closing day

Sucks to be you

I love my day off even more now💃🏻💃🏻

Jk i’ll wait for you to watch it tonight like you do for the other vids

Thanks bestie😞

<33

Also the fact they’re gonna have guests is really cool

I really can’t wait to watch the first one

I know they probs have a few episodes recorded

But i hope it won’t be too much work for them now

Ye

3 vids a week

Esp nick who has to edit

Nick our king >>

Fact

Btw i might be home a bit earlier bc the café is kinda dead rn

Just the old couple that comes weekly and they’re almost done

So you won't wait much for me to watch the podcast

Yayy

The one together for 50 years?

I love those old ladies, they’re so cute

Fr and they always leave a huge tip

We don’t deserve them😞

Anyways see you in an hour or so ig

See you soon🫶🏻

When Alex put her phone back in her pocket, the “old ladies” as described by Lily were getting ready to leave. When they reached the counter, they both gave the blonde a sweet smile as one of them pulled out a bill from her wallet.

“The chocolate cake was delicious as always, but did you guys change anything?” One of the ladies asked.

“Yeah Lily did!” Alex knew that her friend would be excited to know that someone had noticed. “She tried adding some chocolate shavings before putting the cake in the oven.”

“Now I’m going to have a hard time deciding which one I like most, but it was as good as the usual recipe. You'll tell her that it reminds me of how my mum would make it”.

Alex couldn’t help the smile growing on her face. The couple had never once been rude to her and her other coworkers when they would come. Lily was always glad when they would compliment her food and it helped improve her self-confidence as chocolate desserts were basically the only thing Lily had mastered. Alex was really happy that she would be able to pass on the message to her friend.

Alex was finally able to close the café after the happy couple left and because the day had been a slow one, she had had time to clean little by little so that she didn’t have much left to do now.

~~~

When Alex arrived home, Lily was waiting for her on the couch. The TV was already set up on the Cut the Camera YouTube channel and some snacks were waiting for the two girls on the table. Alex told Lily to start the podcast as she would just be grabbing a can of Dr. Pepper in the fridge. As Lily did so and clicked on the video, the first out of many “Good morning Campers” from Nick Sturniolo could be heard in the house.

The podcast first started with Nick, Matt and Chris talking about looking alike, which is something that never bothered them much as they know that their viewers are easily able to differentiate them – even Lily could do it without problem by now.

As they then mentioned the fact that some pairs of best friends sometimes looked more alike than them, Lily and Alex exchanged a quick glance before laughing. Even though they had been friends since middle school, they had barely anything in common regarding their physical appearance.

The podcast kept dwelling on growing up as triplets, regarding the impact it could have on their friends but also the annoying comments they would always get from people. However, as they were mostly talking about the negative outcomes, they decided to start listing the positive aspects of growing up with two other people. Nick, Matt and Chris all agreed that being a triplet was the same as having built-in friends who were here for you at all times.

A couple of minutes later, Chris highlighted the support he always felt from his brothers and that the three of them being on the same page is something they all feel lucky about.

Then, as the topic of constant comparison was being tackled, Lily and Alex were quietly listening. The two girls felt very close to the triplets in the way that they were learning about their struggles. Them being so open about it was an opportunity to understand how the Life as Triplets was. What hit the hardest was the moment when Matt summarised the small conversation by explaining that no matter if it's about similarities or differences, people still find a way to compare them.

The podcast eventually finished on a more light-hearted tone as Nick, Matt and Chris were laughing about their high school experience when someone would meet one of them without knowing that they were a triplet. This would lead to them pretending to be one another just for a two seconds conversation in the hallways – and then at the end of the day, debriefing who came up to talk to each of them.

“I just loved it so much, oh my god!” Alex exclaimed as the video ended.

“Me too, like– I absolutely adore the Wednesday and Friday videos but this type of content is so refreshing I don't know”, Lily agreed with her friend. “I feel closer to them, make it make sense I guess”.

“I get you don’t worry, I know we’re gonna have another perspective of their lives and they’re gonna enjoy giving it to us as much as we’re gonna enjoy learning about it.”

“Exactly like…” Lily thought for a few seconds, “an inside point of view of not only the Sturniolo Triplets but simply Nick, Matt and Chris as people, just individuals. This is what they're trying to make people realise, they're not only triplets – even though that's a bit of their brand I guess – but they are also their own person.”

The two girls were just really excited to see more of this new project from the triplets, although Alex had to share some semi bad news:

“However, I have no idea if I’ll have the motivation to watch an hour of podcast every Monday when I come home from work”.

“Oh yeah, I understand”. Lily put a comforting hand on Alex’s shoulder while trying to find a solution. “Just pick a day and we’ll catch up at that time!”

“I mean, I might not even watch it weekly if I’m honest so– I won’t mind and it might actually be best that you watch them whenever you want like when they come out if that’s what you prefer and I’ll postpone my ‘watch podcast sessions’ until I have enough attention span to listen to them for a whole hour”, Alex explained.

“If that’s okay with you yeah I’m fine with that”, Lily let out a smile. “We’ll still have to discuss it obviously”.

“Of course”, Alex immediately agreed. “Lots of new info we’ll have to talk about!”

What they didn’t know yet is that watching the next podcasts on their own would finally enable Lily to choose her favourite triplet as she would realise that one of them might be a bit too relatable for her taste, and maybe a tiny bit too attractive on camera.

Thank you for reading. Votes and comments are always appreciated if you like this story :) The story is co-written w @/little_grapejuice on wattpad

[dailyrandomwriter]

Day 805

Because Tuesdays are my on-site days, I tend to list something fun, relaxing or mindless as the thing I would do that night. This means no chores, no journal set up, nothing of the sort. Originally, because I had been meaning to work through my gaming library, I thought I would at least spend two hours on Magical Bakery right after work.

It helps that I knew there was already food in the fridge to just heat up, so I didn’t have to account for cooking time as much.

However, that isn’t what happened.

See, I kind of forgot that one of my coworkers who normally covers reception breaks was off that week, which normally isn’t an issue except that when I got in that morning, instead of the usual receptionist, the head of reception Izzy was sitting at the front. 

Izzy’s job, when she’s not manning reception at one of the sister locations of my workplace, is to organize all of the receptionists and make sure that whatever project, job, or workload that has been assigned to reception, gets done, which is all well and good except reception is chronically understaffed.

Ignoring the fact that reception is under a hiring freeze at the moment, that position has always been difficult to fill. It is a demanding job that requires you to be one of the first people in the building, and the face of the organization. The latter of which, causes the general public to think you know what the fuck is going on at all times, a task that is made difficult with the dozens upon dozens of programs that my work place manages on a daily basis.

And worst of all, you don’t even get paid as much as the other administrators. 

When I got hired from reception to be an administrator for a handful of programs, the hiring manager asked me if I was willing to come in at 8:30 in the morning as my predecessor came in at 9. At reception, if I covered a day shift, I would have to be at work at 7:30 in the morning, and on public transit it means booting my ass out the door at 6:30 a.m. A later start time and a higher pay raise? I don’t think I said yes fast enough.

With all that in mind, the fact Izzy was in one manning the front meant that someone was sick that day, and that was on top of the fact the second receptionist had to take the day off. Meaning it was just Izzy, that day, in the head office, which made it the business location in the organization. On top of all her other work as head of reception.

I’ve also worked with her in the past, and she’s one of those folks who will continue to stay where she is until she thinks she can go, and by go… she probably should have left two hours ago. So, I asked when she wanted to start her lunch break, hoping I would remember to go out on time, otherwise she would probably leave much later than she should.

It was a good thing too, because there was a meeting that day where people were coming in from other sites and someone ordered catering, but didn’t prep a cart to take all the food for some reason? Despite my best intentions, she didn’t leave for lunch when she thought she would, because neither of us knew about this meeting.

On the bright side, I offered to find a cart (I borrowed one of the speech prep carts and hoped no one would notice), and helped take the food down. This allowed Izzy to focus and stay to greet clients and make sure nothing sets itself on fire.

The downside was, by the time she did manage to leave the next wave of clients came in, and I forgot how busy reception could be. Normally I cover the evening shift (because staffing issues) and those times aren’t busy. As a result, normally I try to do my normal work up front. I got as far as promising a parent that I would encrypt email their report only to be slammed by three families coming in for service, a parent doing a pick up of things I could not find and a therapist poking their head in for something else.

I nearly did a faceplant tripping over my headphone wires as I tried to get from point A to point B.

15 minutes in and I absently wondered why no one has ever made a time management game of manning a reception desk.

30 minutes in, with screaming children in the background echoing off the high ceilings and I decided that I was not going to play Magical Bakery right after work. After all, why play a time management game when you’ve just spent 30 minutes doing it in real life.

By the time Izzy came back from lunch (she had fled the building for lunch to retain her sanity) I was ready to crawl out of my skin due to late onset auditory sensory processing issues developed after all the Covid lockdowns.

It was so bad that instead of eating lunch in the staff room, I fled to the little office I worked out of to eat lunch and blast Lo-fi music through my headphones. On the bright side, Izzy gave me birthday timbits as a treat, a lot of them, which I now get to enjoy for dessert after dinner.

[prvtocol]

Does Bri have any bad habits?

SEND MY MUSE ANONS!! ( always accepting ✿ )

Yes.

She overthinks. She overworks. She skips meals. She relies on aids to keep going, to sleep, to calm her nerves. She often lets things continue as they are rather than trying to change them (though tbf, change is sometimes impossible). She’s selfless and sidesteps her needs/wants for others. The majority of this is circumstantial. Away from toxic work environments, she is a healthier and calmer individual with no need for aids to help her through.

Things spiral most out of control in her Cyberpunk verse, especially when the corp undergoes leadership changes in 2077. She has an unhealthy habit of using neurostims to work the expected 14-16 hour workdays and to spare time after/during work to maintain her position (which includes gathering intel on coworkers via fixers and mercs and keeping one step ahead of internal developments). In turn, this makes her need sleep pharmaceuticals to counter those effects and actually rest the few hours she has left. Throw in being extorted by a Night City gang and she's a mess. She’s even willing to take illicit drugs from her extortionist to get a good night’s rest.

In Far Cry/Modern, she has taken caffeine pills to counteract the effects of jet lag. Her constant travel wears her down. She’s tired of living out of a suitcase, losing her sense of time, and misses home, forgetting where that is as time goes on. Her poor eating habits can be seen as self-destructive.

In all verses, she occasionally needs pills to counteract anxiety and panic attacks as well as therapy. She knows when she needs help. Again, this is circumstantial. In Cyberpunk, her biomonitor and thus her life coach keeps her hormones, etc. in constant check but stress harms her in other ways. In Far Cry/Modern, the pick-ups and hand-offs of dirty cash she does for her father’s money laundering operation put her face to face with crime lords and their criminal organizations. Layovers on Rook Islands, for instance, have her witnessing the unspeakable horrors of Volker's human trafficking operation. She has to turn a blind eye, keep calm and carry on. In the future of this verse (NewDawn/post-Collapse), she’s more adjusted but age and experience does that. In Star Wars, being blackmailed into being an informant for Crimson Dawn while working for the Bank of the Empire has her constantly looking over her shoulder. 

I primarily rp her within time periods of uncertainty and heavy work stress (making me emphasize her frayed nerves). However, her happy ending in her Cyberpunk verse (where she leaves it all behind with a loving partner (@badtrigger) and builds a family), she lives as a healthy, happy, and well-balanced individual. Much of her bad habits were thus a result of how she copes with her work environment. She is still selfless and overthinks (what mother doesn't?) but the emotional support and love of her husband and children do wonders.

[orcaofmyheart99]

Falling for You

also on ao3

Starts right after Jim moves to Stamford, Gay Witch Hunt.

Jim had moved to Stamford. After his kiss with Pam he had to move. The thought of kissing her but never being able to again was driving him made. Jim had to move away. He had lost all appetite and the will to live. 

After moving to Stamford, Jim felt out of place. It was a very different environment and it wasn’t the same without Pam. However, Jim was slowly getting the hang of the new office. There were no distractions since Michael and Dwight didn’t work there. Although there was still one employee who annoyed Jim a lot. This employee was named Andy and he only called Jim, Big Tuna.

There was a good-looking woman who also worked at the new office. Her name was Karen  Filippelli. She was completely different from Pam, but Jim still thought that she was pretty.

Pam P.O.V.

After Jim and I kissed at Casino Night, he left for Stamford. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I don’t know what I would have said to him though. A week later I called off the wedding to Roy finally realizing that I was not in love with Jim and was simply settling. I miss Jim a lot, but I know it's for the best that he left. Maybe in another lifetime we will be together. 

Jim P.O.V. 

I kissed Pam on Casino Night. I will never forget it. After I confessed my love, she turned me down. I knew I had to leave. I like Stamford well enough. It's weird being with people who are “normal”. I miss my old coworkers. Including Dwight which is weird. 

Karen P.O.V.

I don’t know how well Jim is fitting in here. He keeps looking at the camera like he is talking to someone. It's weird. He is kind of cute though but also kind of a kiss ass. 

Some time passes...Pam has already gone on her date, and Diwali has already happened.

It was the night of Diwali. Andy, Karen, and Jim were working late.

Karen P.O.V.

Andy keeps singing. Oh My God!!!! So annoying. Now Jim has joined him. Yikes. Both of them are drunk. Finally, we are almost done. Andy decided to stay here, but Jim was going to ride his bike home. But he is too drunk. I decided to give him a ride home.

Pam P.O.V.

Diwali was pretty fun. Besides Michael proposing which was pretty awkward and terrible. I texted Jim about it and how I wish he was here...But he didn’t respond. The night ended with Michael trying to kiss me and me having to give him a ride to his house. 

The office just heard a rumor about downsizing. Jim and Karen are dating

Pam P.O.V.

Michael just let it slip that the Scranton branch might be closing forever, and we all might be out of jobs or get transferred. It is kind of a blessing in disguise. I could take some time off and work on my art.

Jim P.O.V.

A rumor is going around that the Scranton branch might be closing and some people might be transferred. 

Karen P.O.V.

The Scranton branch might be closing. I can tell Jim is stressed. We started dating after I gave him a ride home that one night so I can tell when he is stressed. 

Pam P.O.V.

Michael and Dwight just left to go and try to convince corporate that we shouldn’t be shut down. Everyone here is really tense because we really don’t know what will happen.

Jim P.O.V.

Well, Josh just took an offer from another company and now it looks like our branch will be downsized. Jan said that I have a position at Scranton if I want it. I really don’t want to go back there, even though I am now with Karen. 

Karen P.O.V.

It looks like Stamford will be downsized. I am not sure if I will have a job there. If I do I don’t know if I will take it. Jim and I have been dating almost a month and it is going well. I feel like I might follow him to Scranton. 

Pam P.O.V.

It turns out that Stamford is being downsized and not us. We don’t know who will be transferred here.

Stamford is closed and some of the employees have transferred. 

Pam P.O.V.

Today the Stamford people will be coming. Jim is one of them. I am looking forward to seeing him again and meeting the new people.

Jim P.O.V.

I am looking forward to seeing my old coworkers but I am afraid that it will be awkward with Pam.

Michael has shown the video.

Karen P.O.V.

I am not sure about this place. Everyone is nice enough but the boss is totally out of line. 

Fast forward. Karen has found out about Jim still having feelings for Pam.

Karen P.O.V.

I just found out that my boyfriend still has feelings for this other girl. What the hell. Why didn’t he tell me?!

Karen and Pam Talking

Karen “Pam. can I ask you something?” 

Pam “Sure.”

Karen: “Jim told me about your little kiss, do you still have feelings for him still?”

Pam: “What? No. No. You are with Jim. I am not. No, I don’t have feelings for him anymore.”

Pam P.O.V.

I just lied to Karen. I still have feelings towards Jim in some way.

Karen P.O.V.

I feel like Pam lied to me.

Fast forward. Roy has attacked Jim.

Pam P.O.V.

Roy came into the office this afternoon. He tried to punch Jim and shoved Karen to the ground by accident. 

Karen P.O.V.

Holy crap. That was terrifying. Some guy who I guess is Pam’s ex came in and attacked Jim. Thank God Dwight was there.

Conversation

Pam: “Jim I am so so sorry about Roy. I never thought about what he would do.”

Jim: “It’s fine. Although I don’t know why you wouldn’t expect Roy to do something like this.”

Pam: “Well this time it's definitely over.”

Jim: “I wouldn't bet on that…”

Pam goes up to Karen later

Pam “Karen I am really sorry about what happened.”

Karen “Really? You told your ex that you kissed Jim a week before your wedding. If I was him I would be angry too. I mean who kisses someone else a week before their wedding? And why did you lie to me about still liking Jim? I mean wow Pam.”

Pam: “I am sorry, Karen. I still did like Jim but those feelings have gone away. Anyways he  doesn’t like me anymore.”

Karen: “I would like to talk about this further. Do you want to meet for drinks?”

Pam: “Sure, I guess.”

Pam P.O.V.

I am meeting Karen for drinks. She wants to talk about what happened today. I guess it's a good thing to talk it out. 

Karen P.O.V.

I feel like I need to talk to Pam. I feel like she is going to ruin my relationship with Jim. 

Pam and Karen meet at poor Richards

Karen: “Hey what's your drink?”

Pam: “I like a bud light please.”

Karen: “A beer drinker huh?”

Pam: “Well Roy didn’t have very refined taste so that's what we mostly had in the house.”

Karen: “well I can appreciate a good beer.”

Pam: “So what do you want to talk about?”

Karen: “well, I just feel like I need to be honest with you. I feel like you might ruin my relationship with Jim. Jim didn’t tell me about liking you or kissing you. You claim that you don’t like him anymore, but I don’t really trust that.”

Pam: “I am sorry that I might ruin your relationship. But I really don’t have feelings for him anymore. I respect your relationship and I would never ruin it.”

Karen: “Ok, thanks for saying that.”

Pam looks down at her drink

Pam: “I can see why Jim likes you. You go after what you want.”

Karen: “well I am driven.”

Pam: “I wish I could be like that. I was with Roy so long I kind of lost my identity. I always let people walk over me. I wish I had a strong personality like you.”

Karen: “Well it takes time to develop it. You will, trust me. You just have to take risks. I took a risk moving here.”

Pam and Karen continued drinking. Pam began to get silly and went up on stage and sang karaoke. Karen began to laugh. Pam returned to her seat, Karen was smiling.

Karen: “See that took courage.”

Pam: “Well the alcohol helped. I haven’t hung out with someone in a really long time. I am glad we could talk this out.”

Karen: “Me too. See you tomorrow?”

Pam: “See ya.”

Karen P.O.V.

It was pretty fun talking to Pam. I am glad we straighten things out.

Pam P.O.V.

I feel relieved that Karen and I could clear things up. 

A week later Pam and Karen went out again. They were both drinking and laughing.

Karen: “I can see why Jim liked you. You are funny once you are out of your shell.”

Pam: “And I can see why Jim likes you. You are pretty and outgoing. And entertaining.”

Pam suddenly falls off the stool.

Karen: “Oh my God Pam. You are really really drunk.” Karen laughs “You need to get home. I’ll drive you.”

Pam: “Finneee, but I am having fun.” 

Karen helps Pam into her car and drives Pam home. Pam is still really tipsy but Pam is able to help her into the house. 

Pam P.O.V.

I have a really bad headache. I remember going out drinking with Karen but not much more after that. Karen is knocking at my door.

Karen P.O.V.

It was fun hanging out with Pam again. We are beginning to become friends

Karen: “Hey Pam, open the door. Your car needs to be picked up before it is towed.”

Pam answers the door looking like Hell. “Oh hey Karen...My car...oh yeah. Let me change. You can come in.”

Pam is dressed and ready in 10 minutes still looking bad. 

Karen and Pam drive to Poor Richards. Pam gets into her car.

Pam: “Hey Karen, you can come over and hang out if you want. I'm not doing anything today, and I know Saturdays are Jim’s poker games.”

Karen: “Sure sounds like fun.”

Pam and Karen drive back to Pam’s house.

Pam gets back into her pajamas. It is raining, so Pam and Karen decide to watch movies.

Pam: “So which movie do you want to watch? I got a lot of Disney movies.”

Karen: “Well, I always enjoy Frozen, the first one.”

Pam: “Me too!”

Karen and Pam start to watch Frozen. They both sit on Pam’s couch. Pam is starting to feel a little better. Pam went into the kitchen to make some hot chocolate. 

Karen “OOOhhh yum hot chocolate and with marshmallows and whipped cream? How did you know?”

Pam: “Just a hunch.” pam giggled.

Pam and Karen continued watching Frozen and drinking their hot chocolate. 

Pam “Karen, would you like a fuzzy blanket? We can share this one if you want.”

Karen “Sure, I was getting kind of cold.”

Pam and Karen scoot closer to each other in order to share the blanket. 

Karen P.O.V.

Pam is kind of cute. I don’t know why I am thinking this. Things with Jim have been kind of weird. I feel like he kind of used me. I have been having fun hanging out with Pam. She is pretty funny and sweet.

Pam P.O.V.

Karen has been looking at me weirdly lately. Well, I have been looking at her a lot too. I have never really appreciated a woman's beauty but Karen is breathtaking. Anyone could see it. 

Karen scoots closer to Pam. Pam slides closer as well.

Pam suddenly leans in and puts her head on Karen's shoulder. Karen smiles and wraps her arm around Pam. Karen thought she was in love with Jim, but it turns out she had been falling for Pam all along and had finally given in. 

[krakenjoy]

Ok, here we go:

Some people sympathize with or pity Syril, because he's a well written character. He has positive traits, a backstory and experiences that they can understand or relate to, and most of all, people want to believe humans are good after all and can change.

Syril wants approval and recognition. He feels strongly about 'justice and order', likely due to his upbringing: lack of positive father figure or mentor influence, a mother who puts all her hopes and success on him and knows that he can do better yet berates him instead of showing appreciation and doesn't care about what he wants, low socioeconomic status, instability during the clone wars and transition to the Empire, and Imperial propaganda. He is dedicated to his beliefs, pays attention to detail, goes above and beyond to complete tasks, and perseveres in his efforts-which he'd be praised, admired and respected for if he was on the side of the good guys. If he was in a stereotypical copaganda show, he would absolutely be the hero.

However, due to insecurities (partly) resulted by his background, with the main one being desperate for approval, he is extremely obsessive and blind to any outside views or contrary evidence: he's selfish and self-righteous, he's strictly adherent to authority and is either afraid to confront it or see its corruption (he objects to his boss ignoring the deaths of his coworkers, but doesn't report him), he pents up his anger at his or whatever situation he perceives as unjust and releases that fury and lack of control with occasional violence over people less powerful than him (in Dedra's case, he's angry at bring deceived and betrayed), he is unable to reflect on others' stories (like why is the Empire building an armoury), and more importantly, he can't question his own beliefs and possibly goes to lengths to justify himself (over his 2 years on Ghorman, he has shown that he appreciates their culture, he has attachments to them, especially the Rylanzes which he has a more familial connection to, as he tells Enza to leave before the massacre. They accept him and tell him about their perspectives and struggles, but Syril is unable to understand/empathize with them or take their beliefs and compare them with his views of the Empire and analyze them- even if he has, he finds a way to justify himself as in the right), which turns out to be his fatal flaw. He runs into the crowd not because he wants to join Enza and the Ghorman front, but because he's lost and confused as everything he knows is wrong: his mission to root out outside agitators was false (yet he doesn't realize or doesn't accept that he's the outside agitator), Dedra lied to and betrayed him, the Empire was not as just and orderly as he thought (from their ulterior motive to clear the planet for mining to their actions: pulling an inside job on the Naval depot, placing mining equipment, the increased security, amount of troops and their positions around the plaza)- his whole worldview has collapsed. He just wants to run away.

Even then, the thing that snaps him out of is trance is Andor. His obsession. The reason why Syril went to Ferrix to arrest him and lost his job. His hatred for him, a criminal who's evaded the law, starts the whole plot. However, Cassian doesn't even know who he is. And the armour piercing question, 'who are you', completely shatters Syril's entire identity. During the last 10 or so minutes, he's finally starting to question everything. His obsession and all the construction he's put into it- the planning, the justifications, the cognitive dissonance, the burning hatred and justice and revenge is gone. He has nothing left. He doesn't even know who he is, what he wants, what he believes in, what he should do. Him putting down the blaster was ambiguous, but I think it was in shock. We will never know because he never gets to a conclusion, which is the real tragedy and why many feel for him: because he never really realized anything and never figured out who he was, and never will.

Star Wars is no stranger to redemption arcs. Vader sacrificed himself to save Luke. When Kallus realized he was wrong, he helped the Rebels and defected. There's a reason why redemption arcs are so popular, especially in Star Wars or other media based on classic hero stories of good vs evil, because people want to believe that they are good and others are good as well, and we can all change for the better, even when real life is complicated and grey. Syril had opportunities to see through the Empire's narrative, but he never did. Kyle's said that Syril wouldn't defect or remain in the empire if he had the time and chance to really think it out; he would run away. Javert from Les Miserables, a inspiration for Syril's character, after being proved wrong after Valjean, the criminal who he's been chasing spares his life, chooses to let him go when the meet for the final time, but he also cannot reconcile his and Valjean's actions with his belief in the law and his black and white worldview, and kills himself (which was illegal back then). In real life, many soldiers or collaborators or average citizens never regretted their actions or beliefs. Some accepted that they committed wrongs and tried to be better people or made amends. Others lived in denial and preferred to never think or speak of it.

Syril has done many bad things. However, there are many worse examples in Star Wars. Palpatine is a fascist. Darth Vader is a fascist. Thrawn is a fascist. In spite of their atrocities, they're widely beloved by the fanbase, because they're again, well written and have traits or abilities that are considered admirable, or their demeanor or actions are seen as cool or badass. Palpatine is completely evil. Vader has regrets, but he's resigned to continue doing Palpatine's bidding until the end. Thrawn serves the Empire for the benefit of the Chiss. And yet, it's not uncommon for Vader and Kallus to receive sympathy. Perhaps it's the same case as Dolores Umbridge, where you're more likely to meet a simpering, power abusing administrator or a rigid and pompous employee. But they are humans after all, and we can see why they behave or think that way, how power and a corrupt system corrupts anyone.

Ultimately, Syril is a tragic and incredibly flawed average person, with qualities and experiences that some can sympathize or relate to or even root for, because we all want to be good people and believe others are too. He's a morality tale of blind obsession and faith in authority, not critically thinking about the world around us and refusing to entertain the fact we can be wrong, and how the systems we devote ourselves to can toss us aside once we've outlived our purpose.

The amount of sympathy Syril is getting is shocking to me. It seems like the majority of fans were of the belief that he was gonna flip sides and become a rebel. To me it was very obvious that Syril is an empire loyalist. He's someone who staunchly believes that the empire is good, and that's been a major trait of his character since he was introduced. He thinks the empire is a great thing and he wants to feel like he plays a significant role in the empire. He takes his bullshit jobs way too seriously because he's looking for power and respect. He demands that he be treated more important than he actually is. This is the guy that stalked Dedra because he was in awe at her power and wanted her to listen to him. This is the guy who went against his boss's orders and had his own men killed on a rogue mission just so he could feel like he did something. This is the same guy who dedicated he personally had to solve the Andor case and follow up on it even though he no longer had the authority to. This is the guy who LITERALLY SAID the best day of his life was the day he infiltrated a rebel group and became a permanent mole for the empire. This guy was NEVER going to be turned. He is the prime example of how ordinary people protect a harmful system because they believe it to be right and because that system offers them some benefit. Even though Syril got rejected time and time again he still believed in the empire because the opportunity for success was always available, an ever open door that would allow Syril to actually become someone. Syril dies the death he deserves. He's unceremoniously murdered in an event so chaotic that his death is nothing more than another one to add to the already high death toll. No one witnesses his death, no one calls out his name in a panic, nothing. He does quickly and alone.

Syril was never a hero, he was never a rebel. He was an imperial bootlicker and generally a slime of a human being.