#i got an internal transfer at work and will be doing a Better Job that will be Better for Me

[hneyteacup]

experiencing: stress

[skylarmoon71]

Patrick Jane (Mentalist) - Chapter 1

The subtle smiles and looks from your coworkers should have been an indication that something was up.

You were a detective after all. Walking into the office of your supervisor, you stopped by the door.

“Close it would you.”

He gestured.

You closed the door, now very worried at the way he was smiling at you proudly.

Captain Sean Haynes never smiled like that unless a corrupted politician was exposed or a serial killer was off the streets.

“Who did you kill, sir?”

“Because I’m in a good mood I’m going to ignore that comment Detective (L/N).”

He stood from his seat.

“I’m sure you’ve heard some of the others discussing that opening at the CBI. They’ve been looking for some of the best.”

You grin, because you realize where this is going.

“Angela told me. Micheal as well. A lot of them applied for the position. Did Angela get the job? You want to plan a surprise party? I’m on it. I can start putting things together.”

You looked ready to dash out the office.

“Hold up, that’s not why you’re here.” 

He picked an envelope off his desk, stepping closer as he held it out. You just stared down at it.

“What is this?”

“It’s your new job. You got it.”

Disbelief crossed your face, then panic.

“S-Sir, that's impossible, I never applied for the position.”

“I sent in your application. I also added my recommendation along with a few more from your previous jobs. You’re an incredible detective. The director asked me personally to make a recommendation and I chose you.”

The fact that he thinks so highly of you should make you ecstatic, but the realization of what this means is terrifying. You should have explained to him better why you didn’t apply. He must have overheard you speaking to some of the others about your hesitance and assumed you were just scared of change.

“This is a good thing. Trust me I don’t want to lose you in this department, but this opportunity is a game changer. You’re adaptive, honest and thorough. I have faith in your ability.”

You have yet to take the letter. As you stare at it you become aware that you can’t just turn down this. Sean is not known for being the most emotionally expressive person, but you know he’d put his life on the line for any of his officers. He did this for you, to help. To reject that would be bad. You try to keep your hand steady as you take the envelope and his smile brightens.

“You’ll do great.”

That’s what he said.

A month later you were transferred into the California Bureau of Investigation. Angela and Micheal had both congratulated you and used some of their vacation days to help you unpack and get settled in. The second they left California you could feel that internal fear that came with the realization that this was actually happening.

You tried everything to look on the bright side, but the idea of being here was stressful. You took an extra day to gather your wits and when you walked through those doors, you gave yourself a talk. You just needed to be smart. Keep your head down for the first few months. Settle in and above all else, keep your distance from him.

“This is Patrick Jane, he’s our consultant.” Lisbon introduced.

He held out his hand and you gave a nod, keeping your hands at your side like you’d done with the rest of them. He withdrew his arm with a careful look and you were sure to keep your expression neutral.

“Thank you, I look forward to working with all of you.”

Vanpelt was smiling, possibly excited to have another woman on the team.

“Your desk is right here, let me know if you need anything.” She offered.

You were seated a bit closer to Cho’s desk. With a nod, you move to check out the area.

“I’m sorry to throw you into the field so early but we have a case. We were just about to head over. If you’d like to get settled in you can hang back.”

You contemplated it, but turning down the invitation would certainly raise a flag, at least for a certain consultant.

“It’s no problem. I can join.”

“Great, everyone meet at the van in five minutes.”

Nods were exchanged as everyone began to gather their belongings to leave.

You waited patiently, joining them when they started filling out the door.

The second you were all in the van Jane seems inclined to start his interrogation.

“So what’s the deal with you?”

“Jane.” Lisbon’s warning tone was enough.

“Please don’t piss off the newest member of our team.”

“I was just making conversation. “ He responded.

The rest of them snickered in the back, and you just sat quietly, hoping to get there quickly.

~

Lisbon was questioning Mrs. Connell and you studied everything. Your eyes drifted over James. Her son. He’s young. You know this will take a toll on him. Losing his father. At least that’s what you thought. 

You expected a different temperament. 

His collected behavior was a bit suspicious. You lifted your head when you felt a pair of eyes boring into you. Jane was looking at you. Clearing your throat you looked away. About to take a step to the side to maybe look for other clues that could back up what you were slowly putting together about the murder. You moved to head into the kitchen but James grabbed your hand unexpectedly, clearly about to ask a question.

The rush you felt at the contact made you practically rip your hand out of his hold. You stared at him in horror and now all eyes seemed trained on you.

“P-Please excuse me.”

You paced out of the room, lecturing yourself for losing your cool.

When the interview was over everyone met you outside.

“I apologize for my reaction.”

“It’s okay.”

From her look you knew she must have just assumed you had some kind of issue with germs. You sighed, happy with her understanding.

“About the case, I think we should look into previous accidents involving their son.” You advised.

Lisbon looked a bit confused.

“Their son? James is twelve. Why should we focus on him?” 

“Because James is a sociopath.” Jane’s comment produces shocked expressions.

“What do you mean sociopath, he’s a kid.” Lisbon argues.

“He’s the murderer. Case closed. Lock him up.” 

Jane turned heading for the van as Lisbon chased after him.

“Wait! You can’t just drop something like that without evidence.”

“You’ll find evidence in that little box he keeps under his bed. He’s smart, but narcissistic. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be caught. His mother isn’t an angel either. She’s known for a while that he might be dangerous. She probably even suspected that he killed her husband.”

Lisbon still looks unsure.

“If you don’t believe it, just bring them in. Put them in different rooms and threaten to send her to prison, she’ll confess to anything if she thinks she’ll lose her son. Her husband just died, she doesn’t want to leave her her son too.” 

Through his entire assessment you’re quiet. Lisbon lets out a sigh, as she begins to give tasks.

“Rigsby, Cho, call the sheriff, we’re going to take them in for questioning. Vanpelt call forensics, we’ll need a warrant to search the house.”

Lisbon turns back to Jane with a solemn look.

“I hope you’re wrong about this.” 

You know she doesn’t want to believe an innocent child could do something so horrible.

“Me too.”

Lisbon knew it was unrealistic. 

Whenever Jane spoke in that tone of confidence she knew. They’d gotten the warrant. What was found in James’s bedroom proved Jane’s theory and much more. You didn’t need it though. From the second you saw him you knew something was off. But it’s that touch. That short interaction that reinforced what you suspected when you entered the house and James looked more composed than grieving. His mother pleaded, but there was nothing that could be done to stop it.

Her son was a monster. Left unattended he could kill so many. They took a monster off the street. You should be relieved. However, Jane has been sending you some not so subtle looks for the entirety of the day.

You just try to make it through the best you can.

The following day you try to ignore it all. Walk in and pretend that nothing is wrong.

“That’s the fastest we’ve ever closed a case. You might be a good luck charm.” Lisbon commended.

You gave a tentative smile.

“Jane was the one who figured it out, I just had a hunch.”

“Oh, don’t be modest, you’re good. I saw your file.”

You tense and Lisbon glares at him.

“How exactly did you get a hold of this file?”

“I have my ways, anyway, how did you know?”

He’s seated on his couch, just holding his cup of tea. You’ve never been so disarmed by someone that looks completely harmless.

“You’re a good detective, that goes without saying. You studied his body language. Picked up on the little social cues. It’s commendable. Your closing rate is also impressive. What concerns me is the fact that someone as skilled as you has stayed in the detective position so long. You’ve had plenty of opportunities I’m sure. I get the feeling that you were forced into this one. You never wanted to be here.”

You play that off with a smile.

“Why does everything have to be a conspiracy with you Mr. Jane.”

“Answer the question.”

Lisbon can spot the tension and now the rest of the team is just watching.

“Alright let’s all calm down.”

“I won’t because she’s hiding something. Something big. Whatever it is, it’s connected to the reason why you refuse to let people touch you.”

Swallowing, you pray that he’ll stop talking, stop fishing.

“You have no problem letting people think that you’re some kind of germaphobe, but that’s not it.”

“That’s enough Jane, stop it.”

“What, don’t you want to know if your agent is a spy, Lisbon?”

“I’m not a spy.”

He grins.

“But there is something, right?”

"I don't have to listen to this."

You need to leave before he says more.

“It’s something terrible, something you don’t want anyone to find out.”

You freeze in place, and you can see the looks you get from everyone in the room. 

Judging you, suspecting you.

Regardless of how unhinged Jane is, they trust him. 

You’re scared. 

You should have done a better job, faked it better. You should be denying every word, but you can’t get yourself to speak. You’re so panicked that you haven’t realized that Jane has closed a bit of the distance.

“What are you hiding?”

He takes your hands and you jolt.

“Why are you doing this, please, stop!”

You plea.

He’s staring at you in shock.

“How are you doing that..”

You just gape, because you didn’t imagine it, he heard you.

He heard you.

A bulb above your head pops, the glass dropping to the floor. Everyone jumps and you yank your hands out of his grasp. Before anything else is said you sprint out of the room.

“Great job Jane.” Lisbon is wearing that usual exasperated expression.

Jane is still speechless.

“Jane? Jane!”

He jumps back into reality, looking over at the rest of them slowly.

“Everything okay?”

He nods slowly.

“Everything is fine.” 

[orowyrm]

Hi I gotta ask, how did you get a lab tech job at an aquarium? I am a lab tech in a hospital, and I’m rly not a fan of the environment/people, but it has always been my dream to work at an aquarium. Do you need a specific degree/expertise?

depends on the institution and what lab exactly you’re going for. i personally don’t have any schooling or a degree of any kind (rather, i dropped out of art school after a semester and a half in 2018 LOOOL) but i happen to have several years of hands-on experience as aquatics department head at a pet store beforehand, and years of hobbyist experience before then, and so between that and a passion for the field i caught some attention and got the position. if you’re looking to be in one of the bet labs, i’d say you probably wanna have some degree of veterinary experience, but something like a water quality lab could be a bit more lenient as long as whoever you’re working with is willing to take the time to train you. i’m very lucky that my supervisor is a wonderful person who saw potential in me despite me not having the most impressive qualifications on paper, and i’m eternally grateful that she was willing to hire me on despite me having absolutely 0 lab experience and needing a good amount of guidance and advice for the first month or so before i started getting the hang of things. every situation is different - some places will help pay for relevant schooling if needed, some don’t require schooling at all. i know a lot of places, my own workplace included, are working to make the field more accessible and in the process of establishing more robust outreach programs to really make it less intimidating to get into, so i’d say chances are getting better and better if you’re willing to put yourself out there!

as general advice, i’ll always recommend looking into what sort of volunteering/internship programs your local zoos/aquariums/museums offer!! they can be a good way to get your feet wet and see what it’s like to work in a certain department without immediately diving into a full time job, and i know at my facility were always happy to get the help whenever possible. most of my coworkers either started off as volunteers or interns or transferred from another department at the same place, so it happens a decent amount. while i personally didn’t have the fortitude to stay in the customer service side of things for very long (so much respect for everyone who does. you’re braver than every US marine 🫡) my prior employment ended up being a decent factor as well, since i already knew the building and general goings-on. i say go for it! believe in yourself!! you’ll never know what opportunities are out there unless you look :3

[kiefbowl]

Hi, so I’ve read your posts where you’ve given tips on how to be successful during an interview. And I was wondering if you could give me some advice on how to get a raise at my current job? I’ve been there for 2 and 1/2 years, I’ve doubled the amount of projects that I’ve been assigned to (started off with 3, now 6 projects and helping with 2 other programs as well) but I’ve never gotten more than a 2% raise over the last two years and that’s mandated by the university. When I’ve asked about moving up to a higher role, I’ve been told to be patient. But… I don’t think I can be patient anymore… and I found out that 2 people who’ve been there less than a year are getting a possible 10-20k jump in their salary. I’m going crazy, and I need some help if you have any guidance :(

Working at a university I think might be a little different than out in retail or in a corporate job, but some of this advice might apply. I'm just thinking of my university, which was public and got government grants, and I don't really understand all that beyond that, so there might be some stipulations about how to pay workers. In any case, I think this is a great question and hopefully it can help you and others out.

When asking for a raise, you are asking to enter a negotiation, which to be the aggressor can have some upside. You basically get to start the conversation by stating plainly what you want, and what you're willing to do to get it, and what you'll do if you don't get it. The finesse is making sure you're arguing for things that align for the person who holds what you want. You can imagine that if you go to your boss and say "I want 100K more a year, I want to do nothing about it, and if you don't give it to me I'll set my house on fire" they'll just be like "uhm, what does this have to do with me." Find the common ground between your interests, and theirs.

It's well understood by people who hire and manage people that hiring is more expensive than retaining talent, so the big token you have in your court is that you'll leave. The rub is of course people don't know how to leverage this, because in their heart it's an empty threat. Finding another job can be hard, and you don't want to put yourself in a situation where you're trading down because you didn't get what you want at one job so you took a different, suckier job. So, you have to harden your heart, and make sure when you talk about it, it's not an empty threat. One way to do this is to have a job offer already, which means patience as you job hunt. Another way to do this is to be confident that you could get a better job, and not be specific when you'll leave, but signal to them you will when you can. "I know my skill set is valuable" can be said in very casual, polite, professional, and pointed way to get your meaning across. Now that confidence shouldn't come from pure delusion (which, it doesn't have to, most people have things they're good at and are valuable!), but you do have to sit down and have a good think. What are your transferable skills and what are your billable skills, in tangible specific ways. "I'm good at customer service" is not specific, anyone can learn that - "I resolve my tickets within SLA 90% of the time" is specific. "I know how to write" is not specific, that could mean anything - "I've been creating and updating our knowledge base articles" is specific. "I work in marketing" is not specific, that just says where you work - "I designed the 2022 social media campaign that brought in 2% more business" is specific. Now, maybe these examples don't relate to what you do or sound a higher level of work that you do, but don't be discouraged, this is just creative framing. A social media intern could make a couple tik toks and do that last one, hopefully they have the insight to the data to make the claim that it increased business. The creative framing comes from understanding what your job wants from you. What is it doing? What does it make? What does it supply? How does it make revenue? For a university, I'm not sure how much it's tied into direct revenue for itself, depending on your department, but it does ultimately fit into the infrastructure of how the university makes revenue, so think about what your department is supplying to the university.

If you help manage an onslaught of freshman ding dongs who don't know their ass from their head (said affectionately) who barge in with complaints and questions, you handle "intake" so that your uppers in your department can focus on other efficiencies. If you serve food at a food court, your speed and efficiency equals faster lines which equals faster turn over which equals more students which equals more money (just like any restaurant). Any industry, anywhere in the hierarchy, a worker can frame what they do in these kinds of terms to make negotiation easier and really point blank: please give me x amount more, if you don't you lose abc from me because I will leave. I'm willing to wait y months/train a replacement/work more hours/work fewer hours/nothing more because I deserve this because I know so-and-so and what's his name over there make that much and I do the same job/etc.

Good luck! :)

[jgvfhl]

The Number Lads (gn) Make Killer Memes

HAPPY NOVEMBER the Lads are back, and they're about to make someone's life very difficult. Hopefully, this marks the start of a monthly posting schedule again for this fic, but the holidays at the end of the year might delay things slightly in January. We'll see. But enjoy some new Mandalorian friends!

Words: ~7000 Warnings: some violence and some very bad humor Link to Masterlist of Chapters on tumblr Link to the full story on Ao3

Do-si-do sincerely hoped his sergeant never found out any details of tonight’s events. They had a sneaking suspicion she might not approve of their stealing a speeder bike from the Guard, then helping to lead a wild mynock chase through the Senate District on Coruscant. Still, they were doing an excellent job at not dying or crashing, even with about two dozen Guards on their tail.

Last they’d seen, Loops and Trees had commandeered a larger air speeder from the Guard and had split the pursuing forces a bit further. Maral was still here in her totally amazing, beautifully painted gauntlet starfighter Moon Saber, and Fours and Commander Bacara, the absolute madmen, had successfully gotten two of the transport shuttles off their tails as well. So, all in all, it wasn’t going terribly! Do-si-do had seen the commander and Echo get into the chancellor’s office, so he had to assume they would do what they set out to do. The rest of them couldn’t really help them out here.

Do-si-do swung their bike around a sharp corner, aiming for a shadowed overhang to get some cover and take a short breather before they had to head back out. It worked, but only barely. They had just dismounted and hunkered down behind the bike when the patrol of Guards zoomed past them. Fortunately, none of them stopped. Do-si-do let out a breath, then nearly jumped out of their armor when their comm started blinking green.

They answered quickly, transferring it to their helmet’s internal system in case they needed to get on the move again.

“This is the prettiest pilot this side of Trip Zip, what can I do for you?”

There was a pause. Then, Trees answered, “I’m not going to comment on that. General Unduli contacted me and told us to meet her and Kenobi in Little Sriluur. Something’s happening.”

That was vague. “Any better ideas on what that something is, or are we just guessing?”

“I was not given more information that that, no.”

Do-si-do nodded, easing the bike out of cover slowly, looking around for Guards. “Got it, Little Sriluur. Is the Clubhouse good?” What if someone had found out Sevenset and Fives?

“I do not have any more information to give you, Do-si-do,” Trees told them.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” The comm disconnected before they had a chance to say anything else. That was Trees, they supposed.

Right. Little Sriluur. Their sense of direction, like any good clone, was impeccable, so they weren’t worried about finding their way there. But just in case they had to take some creative detours, they used the speeder bike’s control panel to enter the Noodle Bar’s name into the mapping system. The speeder bike hummed along beautifully as they put it into gear, shoved off the platform, and sped out onto the flight lane beside their temporary hideout.

Without the impending danger of Coruscant Guardsmen (who may or may not be acting with free will), the ride through Coruscant’s maze of buildings and alleyways was almost peaceful. They were a pilot, so of course the feeling of free movement through spaces otherwise confined by flight lanes and gravity was always invigorating. And, at least for now, there was no one shooting at them. That was a win. A few people honked at them or shouted insults when they flew a bit too close, but Do-si-do ignored them. They were too busy scanning the area for Coruscant Guards or security probes.

There were plenty of them, of course, but as they flew farther away from the Senate Dome and the government offices, their numbers thinned. A few more blocks, and it almost looked normal. About a block away from Little Sriluur, they startled a little when a Guard speeder appeared on their left, but they settled when they recognized Loops and Trees in the cab.

“Sweet ride!” they shouted over the rushing wind.

Trees’ helmet turned to them. Do-si-do imagined one of his finest, emotionally flat expressions on his face under it. “I am not happy about anything happening right now!” he shouted back.

Do-si-do laughed. “Hey, Loops! Where’d you learn to fly a speeder?”

Loops didn’t take his attention off of the flight lane in front of them. “Uh… General Koon,” he said.

“Nice!” they grinned, watching the bright lights and lit signs of Little Sriluur come closer and closer. “Where are the Jedi, anyway?” they called over to the other two. “Or do we just follow the sounds of lightsabers?”

“The transmissions on this speeder haven’t given us anything useful,” Trees said, pointing to the speeder’s control panel.

Do-si-do was a little put-out that they hadn’t thought to listen in to the Guard’s own transmission channels. “What did they say?” they asked.

“To ignore the ‘small disruption’ in Little Sriluur,” Trees answered, putting air quotes around the emphasized words.

That didn’t sound good. It meant whatever was happening in the neighborhood, they were on their own to deal with it. Well… no turning back now. They’d all either get medals for this, or it would be the last thing they did in service to the Republic. Do-si-do tried not to think about the last option. In a moment, the three of them were cruising into the heart of Coruscant’s weequay neighborhood. The sign for Sun’s Noodle Bar was visible at the end of the street, and at least initially, Do-si-do didn’t see anything amiss nearby. Hopefully, that meant Sevenset and Fives and the other inhabitants of the restaurant were still safe.

Hopefully, they could keep them that way.

“Do-si-do!” Loops’ shout pulled their attention back to their friends flying next to them. Trees was pointing off to their left, a little ahead of them.

It wasn’t clear right away what was so important over there. After a few seconds, bright lights flashed, and Do-si-do recognized a plume of smoke rising out of the cityscape.

Well, shit.

“I guess we know where the Jedi are!” they said, trying to find some silver lining here. “I’ll follow you guys!”

The air speeder veered to the left, zipping down a side street. Do-si-do followed, still keeping an eye on any probe droids or Guard patrols in the area. There were a concerningly few number of them both, and neither of them seemed too interested in checking out the “small disturbance” two blocks up. What they did start seeing more of were frightened civilians running or flying away from the plume of smoke. Loops and Do-si-do each had to execute a little fancy flying to avoid an oncoming civvy speeder going way faster than they should be in a flight lane this size.

Something had them seriously spooked. They were not looking forward to finding out what it was.

About two blocks up, they started hearing noises more at home on a battlefield instead of the heart of the Republic. A familiar clanking was the most ominous of them all. They turned right back towards the main thoroughfare, and immediately were faced with a blockade struggling to contain a mass of panicking citizens. A line of droids had cut them off from escaping down the side street, and were slowly but surely walking them back towards the main street.

Loops pulled his speeder up sharply, and Do-si-do followed, knowing it was a losing battle to try to calm down a crowd of that size on their own. Not without Jedi, certainly.

“Hey!” a droid yelled, noticing them finally.

As they approached the bigger street, one of the droids, an officer with yellow accents on its body, held up an angular hand. “Halt! No one passes—”

“We’re passing, thanks!” Do-si-do shouted as the two speeders zoomed over their heads. A flurry of red blaster bolts appeared in the air around the two speeders. Luckily, the droids were still lousy shots.

They burst onto the scene taking over the main thoroughfare, Do-si-do instinctively swooping higher for a vantage point. The pilot in them just liked to see as much as possible, and there was a lot to see. The blocks adjacent to the street that had led them here were all packed with people and droids—the bad kind of droids. It looked like the droids had worked to contain several large groups of citizens on the ground, holding them in place as collateral. It was a horrible, vile practice, but one the Seppies had no issues using as long as it kept the Jedi at bay. On the subject of Jedi, Doi-si-do still couldn’t see any Jedi, or even the occasional flash of a lightsaber that might give them away.

What they could see, however, were Commander Bacara and Fours holding their ground at the center of one of the walkways crossing the flightlanes. The droids seemed torn between containing their civilian hostages and sending more numbers to take on the pair of Marines.

Loops flew his speeder down to land between them and one side of the bridge. Do-si-do was quick to mirror the action, landing on Fours’ side.

“Where are the Jedi, sir?” Trees asked, ducking low in the vehicle to avoid the blaster fire.

“Dealing with Dooku!” came the reply. “Up the block to the northeast.” He tilted his helmet slightly up the street, unwilling to move his hands from where they were aiming his pistols.

“Dooku?” Do-si-do repeated, shocked. “Why the hell is he here?”

“I’m not gonna ask him!” Commander Bacara shot back.

Fair.

“What can we do, Commander?” Loops wanted to know.

“Try to break through these blockades,” the commander answered. “Getting the civvies out of danger is our first priority.”

That made sense. It robbed the droids of their leverage, and cleared the field of noncombatants at the same time.

Do-si-do nodded. “On it! Sir!”

They kicked off the ground again, hunched low to the handlebars to make a smaller target. Nearby, they watched Loops’ speeder lift off as well. They punched in Trees’ comm frequency to make it easier to… well, communicate.

“Which group are we aiming for first, boys?” they asked.

“The smallest?” Trees answered, sounding slightly unsure. To be fair, none of them had any leadership experience on the field. But that didn’t mean their other experience didn’t count for something.

“Maybe the one closest to where the Jedi are supposed to be?” Do-si-do suggested.

“You want to get closer to the Sith lord and the two Jedi fighting him?” Trees replied.

Do-si-do shook their head, turning their bike around in the air and aiming up the street. “I’m thinking we get the civvies closest to danger out of it,” they said sharply. “Now, come on!”

Trees didn’t reply, but the comm stayed open. When they glanced back, Do-si-do saw the Corrie speeder turn around and start to follow their path.

“What’s the plan?” Trees asked.

Honestly, Do-si-do wasn’t sure they had a plan, per se, more of a… vague idea. “You two stay this side of the street and take out the droids there. You can use the speeder for cover. I’ll head around to the back of the group and get the civvies a way out that way.”

“How?”

“I am a master at improv!”

There was a pause that Do-si-do barely registered as they approached the group of terrified civilians. “No, you’re not!”

“I’m not an officer, okay? Gimme a break!” was the only response they managed to find to that. They just had to hope Loops and Trees would actually carry out the skeletal plan.

They swooped down, skimming over the group of droids and other people until they could veer to the right down a one-lane sidestreet, similar to but smaller than the one the three of them had used coming here. There were six B1 droids guarding the back of the group on the walkway hugging the building next to the sidestreet.

“Duck!” Do-si-do shouted as they angled the bike downwards.

Luckily, the collection of weequay and other races heard them, and listened. The people closest to the back of the group crouched down, some people pulling others to the deck if they were too slow. The droids, always a slower study, had only just noticed their hostages had moved before Do-si-do and their bike registered as a threat.

Do-si-do turned sharply, temporarily dropping the thrusters’ levels as low as they dared without killing the engine as well. It was nice to know machines. Gravity and physics did the rest, and they crashed sideways into three of the droids, laying them out flat on the deck as they kicked the thrusters back up to normal levels. As the bike slid over the droids, Do-si-do leaned down and swiped one of their blasters from its owner. The other three droids were chattering in surprise, just now leveling their blasters at them. But the Kaminoans hadn’t spent all that time and money to put out lousy soldiers.

Do-si-do shot down two of the droids before the speeder bike had even stopped moving. The final droid was quickly seized, disarmed, and deactivated by some proactive citizens while Do-si-do made sure the three on the ground wouldn’t get up again.

They steered the bike off the walkway, up and over the slight railing that kept people from toppling into the flight lane. “Go!” they said, gesturing down the open walkway. “Get out, let’s go!”

The crowds needed no further instructions. They surged forward en masse, right over the droids that had been holding them captive moments earlier. They moved down the walkway, heading away from the bigger street as fast as they could. Do-si-do grinned, rather pleased their haphazard plan had worked. They saw Loops and Trees standing among the scrapped bodies of the ten or so droids that had been guarding the hostages on that side. They flew over to them, hovering on the walkway beside the main street.

“Good plan, right?” they said, grinning still.

Loops shrugged and Trees just stared from behind his helmet.

“Alright, contain your enthusiasm,” they said. “We’ve got other civvies to deal with.”

Loops and Trees climbed back into their speeder and followed Do-si-do back into the air. There were two remaining clumps of civilians held hostage by droids. One was across the street and under active assault by Commander Bacara and Fours. The other was down the block on the same side of the street.

“Has anyone checked on the Noodle Bar?” they said out loud after checking the comm channel with Trees was still open.

“In what copious spare time would we have done that?”

“I was only making sure the Seppies aren’t after Sevens and Fives” they replied, ducking under a string of colored lanterns hung across the flight lanes. “Do the Seppies know? Is that why they’re here?”

“Shall we ask them nicely?” Trees answered, his voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm.

“Okay, cool it, Green Bean. Let’s get these natties dealt with first.” They tried to keep the worry out of their voice. It was hard, though. Sevenset and Fives were right there. If the droids found that out, they had no trouble believing they’d storm the place without hesitation. Considering that, they felt a little more confident that the droids didn’t know where they were.

They had just passed the Noodle Bar, still aiming for the group of hostages held a little ways up the block from the restaurant, when a large crash and a distant humming reached their ears. They looked over their shoulder for a second. Flashes of blue and green caught their eye.

The Jedi, finally.

There was also the small issue of a large lit sign being ripped off its building and hurled towards the Jedi. It missed, but ultimately crashed into the opposite building and the walkway adjacent to it.

The humming noise was getting louder too. Do-si-do recognized it as some kind of air transport, but they couldn’t tell what exactly the vehicle was yet. They hoped it was more allies, but they had to be prepared for it to bring more enemies too.

Trees’ voice cut into their thoughts. “Do-si-do, it looks like the droids are bringing reinforcements.”

Well, joy of joys. “How many and what kind?”

“Mostly B1s, but I can see at least ten SBDs.”

“Great! Let’s see if we can get these civvies outta here first,” Do-si-do told him, urging the speeder bike faster. Kriffing SBDs—seriously?

“Clones!” cried the first droid to noticed their approach.

“Clankers!” Do-si-do called back. The droids had been too slow in reorganizing to react to the new threat, so Do-si-do swooped as low as they dared, knocking the first droid on the head with the back of the speeder bike before skimming over the crowd of gathered natties to the far side of the group. Hopefully, Trees and Loops would get the hint.

They whirled the bike around to face the droids guarding the back of the group, quickly shooting two of them down like before. There were five more, plus the other seven Loops and Trees were responsible for scrapping. Plus the ones coming down out of the sky any second now. Wonderful.

Do-si-do ducked a blaster bolt and steered the bike around to point at the droids. The natties wouldn’t thank them, but they never did. They drove the speeder forward, bowling into two of the droids, who toppled to the ground as the crowd gave way. Not as brave a group as the first one, it seemed. They kept the bike over them to keep them in place. The two either side of them couldn’t quite decide if they should use their blasters at this close range, or just grab them. Do-si-do wasn’t too keen on letting them finish that decision.

They grabbed the droid on their right, shooting a hole through its chest from the neck down. The other droid did actually try to grab them, but they quickly smashed their blaster into its face to buy time to swing themself off the bike to shoot that one through the chest as well. It was honestly annoying how careful they had to be not to let the bolts go through the droids and into the crowd of terrified and screaming civilians next to them. The last droid shot at them, but missed (barely), hitting the wall of the building instead. Do-si-do lunged forward, crowding into its space so it couldn’t use its blaster as effectively, and shot it down.

That done, they returned to the bike, glad to find it still worked and hadn’t suffered any stray blaster bolts. “Alright, people!” they shouted as they rose a little higher. “Get going! Head south as much as you can,” they said, pointing away from the sounds of Dooku and the Jedi.

As before, the crowd surged forward down the walkway, hopefully to safety. Well. Somewhere safer than here.

They darted over into the flight lane to avoid the crowds and return to the main action. They still had one more group to free, after all.

Okay, the main action had gotten a bit more… active. Trees’ warning about more droids arriving had been well-deserved. About two or three dozen more had arrived, including those SBDs Do-si-do wished they could will out of existence. Up the street, they could see flashes of blue, green, and red as Kenobi and Unduli battled Dooku across the upper stories of the buildings. So far they hadn’t come too close, but the hum of sabers was audible between the high pitched whine of blasterfire. The main force of the new droids had gathered across the street, concentrating their strength around defending the hostages. Fours and his commander had backed down the footbridge over the flight lanes until they were hunkered down with Loops and Trees, all under a hail storm of red blaster bolts.

The SBDs were leading a march across the footbridge, their reinforced armor plating making it much harder to just pick them off like the B1s. Do-si-do steered their speeder bike higher, hoping to get some advantage to help their friends. They climbed until they were about as high as the division between floors in the buildings either side. Glancing around the scene, they tried to work out any weak points in the droids’ formation around the hostages. Just as they leaned to start turning down yet another sidestreet, something struck their bike from the side out of nowhere.

They yelped, torn between hanging onto the bike or hanging onto their blaster. What had hit them? As the bike’s spinning slowed, they could make out a small handful of B1s whirring around the air on small air speeders. Oh, those little shits—

Do-si-do snarled and aimed to give chase. They were sorely missing their starfighter’s aiming and hostile detection capabilities right about now. They took off after the nearest airborne B1, but only got a few seconds ahead before something much, much bigger came up behind them and swept them completely off their bike and knocked the wind out of their lungs and the blaster from their hands.

“Where are the fugitives.”

Once the momentary panic had started to subside, Do-si-do recognized the low, monotonous voice of an SBD. They all had jet boosters in their backs, right. Great.

“Where are the fugitives.”

“I don’t know!” Do-si-do yelled, watching the street and their friends fly by in a blur under their dangling legs.

The SBD’s metal hands tightened around their torso. “Where are the fugitives, or you will be destroyed.”

“Up yours, you karking oil stain!” No way they were giving up Fives and Sevenset. No way in hell.

The SBD stopped moving forward, hovering above the open flight lane that led down, down, down towards the lower levels of Coruscant. Do-si-do stopped looking down, knowing it would only make their stomach churn at this point. See, this was just another reason they liked being a pilot: getting shot down in space meant a very quick death, either being burned up or just freezing to death in the vacuum of space. But falling from this height? There was no guarantee. There was no guarantee they wouldn’t hit one of the footbridges crossing the flight lane and bounce off into who knew where. They might hit a speeder and only get broken bones, and since they were a clone, no one would even bother bringing them to a medical center, most likely.

For the third time in as many minutes, Do-si-do’s train of thought was interrupted by a collision. Something solid slammed into the SBD holding them. They couldn’t tell immediately what had hit it.

Then they felt the droid’s grip loosen as it deactivated. So someone had shot the SBD. That would have been great news, had Do-si-do not been dangling several hundred feet above the nearest flat surface below.

They started falling, uncaring of how undignified their screaming was, because they were falling, Force dammit!

Just as suddenly, they stopped falling, after a jolt of impact. They looked down to find someone’s armored arms wrapped securely around their torso.

“Can I go two kriffing seconds without getting hit by something or someone in the air?” they demanded. They were stressed and upset and they were allowed to be a bit pissed off.

“Yeah, you were looking a bit like a bouncy ball for a second there, kid,” said whoever was carrying them. The voice came through a filter, so whoever it was had a helmet too.

“Did you shoot that thing?”

“Nope! Someone has a sniper perch in one of the restaurants over there.” They zoomed over the street, weaving between the strands of lanterns strung across it, until they arrived where the other Numbers and Commander Bacara were still holding their ground against the force of droids across the street.

Do-si-do was set down on their feet next to Trees.

“You troopers want some help with these guys?” their rescuer asked.

Turning around, Do-si-do saw a Mandalorian in full armor. The armor paint was… garish, almost. Bright colors and odd designs faded and flowed into each other across the entire set, forming a stark contrast against the dark grey of their flight suit. Do-si-do looked back to the helmet, expecting to find a black T-shaped visor like so many had. There was… no visor. The front of the helmet was smooth and painted over like any other part of the armor.

This person had saved them… in mid-air… blind.

Holy shit.

They stopped gawking and ducked behind the walkway’s railing when red blaster bolts came a little too close for comfort.

Commander Bacara glanced over at the newcomer from where he was crouched behind cover. “Clan Ves?”

“‘Lek!” the Mandalorian answered, sounding almost chipper. “Maral called us in. I’m your Aunt Faye. You’re Bacara, right?”

“Elek. How many are you?”

“Two others. My ad and my vod.”

“Where are they?” he asked.

Faye pointed across the flight lane on the street corner opposite the crowd of hostages. “Over there somewhere. Trying to keep the ad out of this, since he hasn’t passed his verd’goten yet.”

The Marines commander turned to look at her. “You brought a child here?”

“I got a call! I didn’t have time to find a daycare,” she answered, gesturing to the general situation. “Besides, they’re thirteen. They’ll be fine with their ba’vodu.”

“Can we discuss this later, sir?” Trees demanded, completely flattened against the back side of the speeder to avoid the steady stream of red blaster bolts whizzing by overhead.

A huge crash brought everyone’s attention farther up the block towards the Jedi and Count Dooku. Their fight had continued to migrate, working its way down the block, closer and closer to the group of civilians they still hadn’t managed to free. This could get ugly if they didn’t get the hostages to safety soon.

“We need these SBDs taken care of!” Commander Bacara ordered. “I don’t care if you have to blow up the footbridge to do it.”

Faye checked one of their vambraces as they all crowded together to concentrate their fire on the approaching droids. Do-si-do assumed that’s what she was doing, anyway, since she never actually looked down at her wrist. “I don’t have enough Whistling Birds for all of them, but I could take out three.”

“Do it!”

Trees shoved a droid’s blaster into their hands, and Do-si-do wasn’t about to ask him where he’d picked it up. They kept firing with the rest of the Numbers, but they couldn’t help but watch out of their periphery. They’d never seen Whistling Birds in action before, but they’d always liked the sound of them from stories. Six pinpoints of light shot out of Faye’s vambrace with little bursts of noise. They left tiny trails of smoke or compressed air in their wakes as they sped across the air, homing in directly on the SBDs. The first three jolted slightly as two miniature missiles embedded into their armor and detonated. The droids stumbled, then fell, the red light in their visual sensors fading as they crashed to the deck. It slowed the rest down for a few seconds, giving the Numbers and the commander a chance to down two more of them. That left just five marching across the footbridge towards them.

Suddenly, and enormous chunk of signage came hurtling through the air and smashed through the metal footbridge. The bridge and chunk of metal disappeared into the gap, now careening through the lower levels of Coruscant.

“What the shit!” Do-si-do yelled as Loops and Trees both made wordless yelps as well. Fours and his commander and Faye seemed less surprised.

In the pause in blaster fire, flashes of blue and green made them all look up. Generals Kenobi and Unduli were leaping back and forth across the gap created by the flight lane. Do-si-do looked and found Count Dooku had hitched a ride on one of the B1s still in possession of a small speeder, and was skimming through the air towards the group of hostages.

Well, this wasn’t good.

A loud noise came from the building just up the block, and they looked to the source in case it was something dangerous. It was, just not for the Numbers and their allies. The building in question was the Noodle Bar. Apparently, someone had a rocket launcher pointed out the window, and had just fired it at the speeder holding up the Sith Lord.

A split second before the missile made contact, Dooku leapt from it, landing directly amongst the hostages across the flight lane. The B1 on the speeder was not as lucky, and it exploded violently in the middle of the air. Kenobi and Unduli landed on the street corner up the block from the Numbers’ current location. They looked tired but far from finished.

“Come no closer!” Dooku yelled, raising his voice and his red lightsaber. The civilians around him were quite literally shaking with fear. Do-si-do didn’t blame them.

“Really, Count?” Kenobi replied with a curled lip. “That’s stooping awfully low, even for you.”

“Leave the civilians out of this!” Unduli added on, gesturing with her green blade.

“I want what I came for,” the Sith replied. “But you Jedi are always in the way, and now look.” He gestured to the crowd around him with his free hand. “You’ve put innocent lives at risk.”

“Nar’sheb! You landed there on purpose!” Faye yelled at him. Do-si-do jumped a little, not used to people aside from Jedi doing the talking during these confrontations. “Let the young ones free, at least, and negotiate like a civilized person.”

“A Mandalorian asking for negotiations?” Dooku said. “You must be desperate, Kenobi.”

“I’ve never actually met that Mandalorian before,” Kenobi said, glancing at Faye.

She waved. “I’m Faye! Clan Ves! Su’cuy!”

The Jedi each gave little waves in return before resuming their conversation with Dooku.

Commander Bacara looked at Faye. “Any chance you have a Whistling Bird left for him?”

She shook her head. “I wish. Kriffing demagolka, but no. Used ‘em up on the Supers.”

“Didn’t you say someone had a sniper perch in the Noodle Bar?” Do-si-do asked her. Maybe that person could take out Dooku, or at least distract him?

Faye nodded, but didn’t get a chance to respond. A chorus of cries and protests rose up from the hostages. The B1s and SBDs surrounding them had turned inwards, now aiming at the hostages instead of their adversaries. Do-si-do’s stomach swooped uncomfortably.

“Dooku!” Kenobi shouted. “This is barbaric!”

“My master gives clear instructions,” the Sith shot back, still waving his saber around to supplement his speech. “I am to find the clones in question, destroy them, and not let anyone stand in my way. You, Kenobi, are in my way.”

“Threatening the lives of innocents doesn’t help your cause!” Unduli told him, walking slowly towards the small footbridge that connected the two city blocks across the sidestreet. Kenobi followed her. Their movements were deliberate and steady.

Dooku frowned. “It seems my message is not clear. Do you need a demonstration?”

He lunged into the crowd around him and dragged a young child to him. The girl looked no older than twelve, with tan skin, smooth black hair, and big brown eyes filled with tears. At the same time, the B1s surrounding the group all did the same, grabbing a random civilian and holding a blaster against their heads or torsos.

“I want those clones, Kenobi!” the Sith snarled. “Anything else, and these people will die for your inaction.”

Commander Bacara growled as he looked down the sights on his blaster. “I can’t get a good shot on anything. The SBDs are blocking the way.”

Faye sighed sharply as she did the same. “Yeah, me neither. Kriff.”

Do-si-do saw the commander’s comm light up, and watched him answer it in his helmet. His head tilted in a slow nod. “Okay. Saleha and Mira think they can take out the B1s without getting the civvies hurt.”

“How?” Trees asked.

“They have the sniper perches in the Noodle Bar,” he told him.

That made sense. Do-si-do did recall Saleha dragging a long case out of the hall closet while the rest of the clones were packing up to leave with Maral. Since Ahsoka Tano was still staying with Fives and Sevenset, they were fine with the two old ladies pointing weapons of war out of the restaurant windows if it meant taking out Dooku.

The two Jedi had made it almost across the smaller footbridge that would lead them right to where the Numbers and their allies were gathered. While the larger footbridge across the flightlane was destroyed, Do-si-do had no problems believing the Jedi would just hurl themselves across the gap anyway. The Sith still hadn’t budged, however. He still held the shaking little girl firmly in one hand by the collar, watching the Jedi’s every move.

Kenobi, living up to his nickname, was still trying to negotiate. “Release the hostages, and we’ll settle this on even footing.” Perhaps he was just stalling. It didn’t look like anything was getting through to the count.

Movement to the left of the huddled group of hostages made Do-si-do look away from the Sith Lord for a moment. On yet another street corner, this one across from the crowd of hostages on the far side of the street, a lone figure was visible. They were also in full beskar armor, all painted in black and purple, with a few white accents beside bare silver steel. A long staff protruded from behind their shoulder, possibly another weapon—probably another weapon. More Mandalorians? That must be the vod Faye had mentioned.

The movement had been this new person standing up to full height. “Hey, Dicku!” they yelled, even carrying across the way from behind their helmet. “Let the girl go.” They leveled a blaster pistol at the count. “Her name is Ligma, and she’s under my clan’s protection. You really wanna piss off an entire clan of Mandalorians?”

Do-si-do blinked. They bit their bottom lip gently to keep the ungraceful snort from coming out of his mouth. “Ligma?” they muttered to Loops.

“Yeah, I know,” he answered. “Not gonna question it.”

Behind Do-si-do, a thunk sounded. They glanced over their shoulder and saw Faye had slapped her palm onto her helmet’s front. “I’m going to slap them,” she muttered, then raised her head again. “And then I’m going to kill them.”

Before they could ask why, Dooku was speaking again. His tone was absolutely dripping condescension. “Explain to the Jedi that as soon as I know where I might find the fugitives in question, little Ligma here—”

The little girl screamed. “LIGMA NUTS!” In a second, the girl’s tan features gained a shade of grey-ish green and her eyes flashed yellow. Her arm came up, suddenly holding a miniblaster like Saleha had used to stun Nines earlier that evening. Only, this one wasn’t on stun. A bright red flash was all that could be seen before Dooku was doubling over with a cry of pain.

In quick succession, several more blaster shots rang out all over the street. One came from the Mandalorian across the way, and it slammed into Dooku’s head, killing him instantly. Four green shots came in rapid sequence from the Noodle Bar, scrapping four of the B1s threatening the civilians directly. Immediately, the Jedi leapt across the gap, using the Force to launch themselves directly in front of the droids surrounding the hostages. Faye took to the air on her jetpack to follow them.

Commander Bacara stood, aiming his blaster. “Fire at will!” he barked, already aiming for the rest of the SBDs.

Do-si-do needed no further prompting. They, Loops, Trees, and Fours followed his lead, picking off the B1s carefully. The Jedi never made careful too easy, and once again, Do-si-do found themself wishing they were back in a starfighter instead. Everyone kept moving around, blocking shots, and there were still the civilians to keep safe as well. It was a mess. A mess they were not entirely practiced in cleaning up. Luckily, Loops, Trees, and Fours seemed more than comfortable.

It was all over in under a minute. The droids lay in sparking pieces on the deck if they hadn’t been Force-pushed off the edge. The civilians were terrified and many of them weeping, but they were all alive. The little girl had disappeared. Do-si-do had lost her in the action, and couldn’t see her anymore, anyway. But he did see Faye meeting up with her vod, smacking them upside the helmet, and then embracing a young Mandalorian with gold accents on their chestplate and vambraces, and a gold helmet.

“Threat neutralized,” Commander Bacara said. He raised his comm, then stared at it when it started blinking green before he’d pressed any buttons. After the initial hesitation, he answered it. “Bacara.”

He must have had it connected to his helmet, because there was a stretch of silence before he spoke next.

“But you’re all unharmed?” He nodded in response to whatever answer he’d gotten. “No, we’re all done here. Dooku’s dead. The Noodle Bar is safe.” There was another pause. “I’ll tell you about it later. We will take care of the several unconscious and-or injured people inside the Clubhouse, yes.” After one last pause, he nodded. “Bacara out.”

“Was that the—er, Commander Sixes, sir?” Do-si-do asked.

“Yes. He and Echo are fine.” He turned to the Jedi still ushering the civilians away from the mechanical carnage. “Generals! A word!”

After a minute or so of being Jedi and comforting scared people, Kenobi and Unduli jumped back across the flightlane and walked over to the group of troopers. The Mandalorians all followed with jetpacks, the adults both carrying the young one over the gap.

“Thank you all for your help and your bravery tonight,” General Unduli said when they had all gathered.

“Yes,” Kenobi seconded. He looked to the Mandalorians and offered a small salute, bowing slightly with his right fist over his heart. “Vor entye, Aliit Ves.” Then he smiled at the Numbers and Commander Bacara. “And of course, thank you, troopers. This went far beyond the scope of your usual duties, and you all served bravely, as Master Unduli has said already.”

Do-si-do knew their helmet obscured their face, but they smiled widely. The Jedi could pick up emotions anyway, right? They’d know. Commander Bacara gave a curt nod.

“The chancellor is dead,” he said flatly.

There was a short silence while everyone adjusted to the sudden change in mood and subject. The Jedi’s faces both remained fairly neutral, almost impassive. Eventually, Unduli dipped her chin and closed her eyes.

“I had sensed the Force grow lighter,” she said softly. “But I had assumed it was because of Count Dooku’s death.”

“I had as well,” Kenobi agreed with a distant look in his eyes. “But, no. This is too much change to have been just the count. The chancellor held more Darkness than we had ever imagined.”

That was a terrifying thought, considering that man had nearly taken control of the entire GAR, and could have exterminated the Jedi Order as a whole with a few well-placed transmissions. But he hadn’t. He was dead. Dooku was dead. Ventress had abandoned the Separatists months ago, if rumors were to be believed. That just left Grievous to deal with, and there was no shortage of people gunning for a chance at scrapping the wheezing maniac.

Kenobi’s comm went off, and he answered it. “Yes, Anakin?”

“Master, the Force feels different.”

“Yes, I would imagine it feels very different,” he replied easily. “Lighter, perhaps?”

“I… guess? I’m not—I was kind of busy, I might have missed some things.”

Kenobi rolled his eyes fondly and held up a hand as he turned away to find some privacy for the conversation.

General Unduli took up the conversation. “With the chancellor no longer able to control the Guards, it would be safe to move your injured friends to the Temple’s Halls of Healing, if you would like.”

They were all a little taken aback by the offer.

“The Temple, sir—ma’am?” Loops asked.

“We still can’t be sure there aren’t others who can control the chips,” she explained. “Until then, especially in the upcoming wave of attention and public reaction to the chancellor’s death, it might be safer for them in the Temple.”

Unfortunately, she made good points. Do-si-do didn’t want to know what kind of backlash or outcry or whatever would happen after word got out about the chancellor’s true nature, and about the clones who had brought him down. They nodded, looking to the other Numbers and the commander.

Commander Bacara seemed to hesitate for a second. But, eventually, he nodded too. “Yes, ma’am, that sounds like the safest plan. We have a ship we can call for transport.”

Faye raised a gloved hand. “So do we, Bacara, if you need the extra room.”

General Unduli nodded. “I will let you take care of your own, Commander,” she said with a smile. “I will meet you all at the Temple.”

She turned to follow Kenobi, presumably to find whatever transportation they had taken here. Or maybe they’d just take the shuttles back. Do-si-do was far more interested in the Mandalorians they hadn’t met yet.

“Well, that was fun,” said the Mandalorian in black and purple armor. The remark sounded genuine. “I’m Aykhaal Ves. If you must refer to me, you can use they, them, and their pronouns.”

Do-si-do smiled under their helmet. Aykhaal sounded so confident saying that. It was nice. It was… hopeful.

Faye shook her head, one hand resting protectively on her kid’s shoulder. “Apparently, they had the bright idea to sneak this little one—” she poked her kid’s helmet— “over there to surprise Dooku.”

Do-si-do tilted his head. “That was you?”

The kid nodded. “I’m a clawdite, yeah. I’m Iskender.” After a glance at Aykhaal, Iskender added, “And if you have to refer to me, please use whatever gender makes the joke funniest.”

Aykhaal chuckled while Faye shook her head yet again. “Anyway, it is very good to meet you all. You fight well. Maral’s been talking about her little brothers for ages now, so it’s nice to meet at least one of you,” she added to Commander Bacara.

He looked at her for a second, his face unreadable behind his helmet. “Thank you,” he said finally. “We have several unconscious people to transport,” he went on, pointing to the Noodle Bar. “We should do that now.”

Aykhaal gestured to the way ahead. “Lead on, al’verde.”

How's that for a way to get rid of a Sith lord? I think it's hilarious, personally. All of Clan Ves belong to @23-bears and they are all wonderful, I hope you enjoyed them. @theultimatesandwich @rndmpeep @mercurydancer @thechaoticfanartist

[hotvampireadjacent]

What degree did you have to be a paralegal? Im thinking of pursuing that path

Technically you don’t need a degree for paralegal.

A certificate just helps you. Know what you have to do. There’s no legal requirement but unless you’re applying to a law firm that says “willing to train” having that degree will really help you out plus help you get a better starting pay.

MY MOST IMPORTANT ADVICE: ASK YOUR PROFESSORS IN COLLEGE FOR INTERSHIPS

Even if they don’t pay they look great and give you working experience. Working experience is the most important thing to getting a job in the field.

Also if you interview while in class, check if you have west law access like I did. That shit is expensive as hell and if you just log into your west law account you got from class while you’re interning at a firm they’ll love you.

Good luck to you! I really shot myself in the foot not using my professors as intern resources bc I was saving up money to move so I didn’t have time between a job to take an internship.

Also to anyone else thinking about going into the field: you can transfer your general credits if you have a degree already and skip right to the important classes I finished in a year.

My classes were aimed at people who had jobs so the classes were held after 5 pm to accommodate people.

Also before starting paralegal classes check out the job outlook around you. In my home town there’s like 5 jobs and they all required experience, but in the city I commute to a ton of jobs.

Don’t knock community colleges. I got my certificate at a local community college and saved an arm and a legs worth of money. Good education there ain’t any worse than a 4 year school

[fartenthusiastwriter]

The Saga of Billy Boy Part 1 - The Meeting

I've had this story brewing in my head and decided to start writing it. It's a lot more than I thought it would be so there will be many, many parts. This one will only really feature farts, as it's doing a lot of setup. Hope you enjoy!

- - - - -

We first met at my job. I’m an accountant in a small town at a little branch of a large firm. The branch consisted of my boss, two associates. Though Brad Harrington, the other associate, was hardly ever at the office since he spent a lot of time on site with clients. I still appreciated the view the few days he was there; Brad was in his late 20s, and in great shape. He always filled out the arms off his button up shirts and ass of his slacks. Since he didn’t always know when he’d have to be at a client’s, Brad always dressed nice.

But it was usually just my boss and me. Anthony Romano, Tony for short, is the partner over our tiny branch. Tony is in his 40s and about 5’6, but he’s in pretty great shape himself. Tony focuses more on strength so he has a girthy build with an ass like a globe. I’d probably ogle at him more if it wasn’t for the fact he was an absolute asshole. Tony had the highest standards and I always had to work crazy hours to meet them. Tony had no problem communicating his disappointment either, and micromanaged constantly. If the money wasn’t great, I’d probably leave, but in a couple of years I’ll transfer to a larger branch and I won’t have to work for him anymore.

It was Tony that told me we were hiring an intern. Even he finally recognized I couldn’t complete all of the work that was needed. The plan was to hire a college senior and bring them on full time at the end of the year. With Tony having the hiring power, I figured it would be some douche-y jock that he hired. It’d be nice to have a girl or other gay guy around since working with two straight men hasn’t been the best, but that’s wishful thinking.

I was working on some tax returns when Tony knocked on the door to my office with the intern. The building is a bit bigger than was needed. The office had two wings, one with three small offices and one with two large offices. The three of us worked in the wing with the small offices since we all worked closely, and Brad hardly used his anyways. I saved my work and locked my computer. “Come on in!” I called out.

Tony opened the door and I got my first look at my new coworker. He was much older than expected, likely in his 40s. Tony hired even more on brand than I would’ve guessed was applying. The intern was much taller though, probably 6’5 but maybe even more. He had broad shoulders and everything was thick. His dark brown hair was long and wavy on his head but not quite long enough to touch his shoulders. He had a full beard to match that I would guess was about half an inch off his face. I was blown away as I realized just how hot this new intern was.

“Will! This is Frank Radford, our new intern!” Tony announced as he gestured to me to greet Frank.

“Hi Frank! I’m Will, one of the associates here.” I said as I grabbed Frank’s hand to shake it. He squeezed it hard with a firm shake. I hold in a gasp of relief, as I pull my hand away. I also couldn’t help but think that name sounded slightly familiar.

“Nice to meet you, Will.” Frank said in a deep voice with a smile. Frank had perfect teeth that shined in the light. “Now, I know what you’re thinking. This old man is an accounting senior in college? I get it. I used to be a high school football coach after playing in college, but the pay just wasn’t cutting it. I decided to go back to school here in town since my sister lives here and picked accounting since it’s the big bucks!” He gave a deep chuckle, which Tony quickly matched. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Tony may even be trying to appeal to Frank. That seems vastly out of character with the ego Tony has but Frank does have an undeniable aura to him that draws one in, seeking his approval.

“Everyone takes different paths, Frank.” Tony chimed in. “We’re just happy your path led you here and excited to have you on the team!” Tony gives Frank a strong pat on the back, causing an unexpected noise to give us all shocked faces. With the contact to the back, Frank let out a brief but loud fart. I blushed and looked away, trying not to give anything away. Tony quickly pulled his hand back and started stammering on his words. “Sorry about that Frank; it happens to all of us”

“It’s okay, Tony. You don’t have to pretend.” Frank said shyly, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Will deserves to know the truth; there’s not really any point in trying to hide it. I have a medical condition that gives me a ton of gas after meals. I can hardly do anything to hold it in, but it’s usually only a couple of hours. I thought I’d be in the clear since lunch was hours ago, but I guess it’s not quite done… I’m sorry for any discomfort it may bring.”

“Nonsense!” Tony said, trying to shift the mood. “Our firm doesn’t discriminate against anyone. No medical condition should keep you from doing work you’re fully capable of doing! We’ve set up a plan to accommodate this that I fully trust will allow for everyone to work at their best.”

I give a sigh of relief. Frank will likely work in the other wing, and I won’t have to be around him constantly farting. I can’t imagine how hard it would be for me to focus on work with gas filling the air. It’d be hard enough not wanting to stare at his sexy body; I couldn’t handle him blowing up the office on top of that.

“We will get Frank set up in the vacant wing,” Tony continued. “We considered moving Brad over there since he’s hardly ever here, but given Frank’s condition, he will need the extra space for more ventilation. That just leaves where you’ll work, Will.” I gulped, not having considered I might have had to move offices as well. “Since you’ll be training Frank and working closely with him post training, it only makes sense you be in that wing as well. The offices aren’t particularly close together, so you can work in Frank’s office with him for the first couple of months until his training is complete. The office has plenty of space for two people to work comfortably, so we’ve already set up the two workstations.”

The color drained from my face. My hopes were shortsighted and the results were even worse than I considered. I’d seen the offices, and while they are large enough to fit two desks, the area isn’t exactly spacious. I’ll constantly breathe in whatever fumes his ass makes each and every day. Though at this moment, my primary concern is concealing the boner that sprung up imagining my new work environment.

While others may hear this situation and retch at the thought, I drooled. I found nothing sexier than a manly brute ripping ass. And I couldn’t imagine a guy as perfect as Frank to do it. But my workload was constantly growing, no matter how much I got done. I couldn’t afford to be distracted by a boner all day. I quickly started to fear this new intern would hurt more than help.

I focus back into the conversation as Tony continues. “There’s not a lot of time left in the day, so feel free to move your stuff over to the new office and get to know each other until 5. I’ll see you boys in the morning!” And with that, Tony walked to his office, closing the door behind him and leaving me alone with the farting beast.

“Do you need any help getting your stuff together?” Frank asked, looking around my office.

“Thank you, but it’s okay. I don’t have a lot of stuff, so it shouldn’t take long. You should go ahead and start getting set up in the office and then we can work through getting your computer access set up.” Since we were such a small office, we had to run our own IT support, but we never really had any major issues.

“Okay, great! I’ll head that way.” Frank turned and started to leave my office. Out of the corner of my eye, it looked like he stopped for a moment but before I could turn to look, I heard a fart erupt from his ass and some chuckles from Tony in his office. Frank looked at me over his shoulder. “Oops, my bad!” Frank said with a wink. As he walked away, I realized this was the first time I got a look at his ass. It was round and perky. Frank didn’t really have hips but his ass jutted out from his back. I could lose my whole face between those cheeks. How was I ever gonna get any work done with that only a few feet from me? I was so enamored with his ass that I didn’t consider how bizarre it was that he winked after his fart.

- - - - -

Want to know what happens next? Check out part two here!

[georgegraphys]

i just ask you why you're pretending to know everything no need to be angry weirdo

Anon do you know what PREDICTIVE and SPECULATIVE means?

I'll explain it in my occupational world. Take it like this.

Tommy Hilfiger is going to release a shoe line, collaborating with Puma. Louis Vuitton is doing the same thing but with Nike. Those two are going to be competitors in terms of marketing and sales. So how do they make themselves better? Us who work on the PR alongside the analyst and some other departments COLLECT information, make some prediction and speculation based on external and internal infos we got, plan a strategy then also the back ups plan and lots of other things. We do the plannings on how to make our brand stands out amongst other competitors, we work on the strategies, and everything. IT IS MY JOB 😭😭😭😭😭

I am heavily familiar with the subtle marketings like what Mercedes is doing with George. That's why I could come to that conclusion. It's a common tactic that even the chinese netz knew 😭😭 But that doesn't mean that I am true either that's why I always said it's all speculative and it might not be the same. I'm not trying to be delulu and trick everyone into hoping (in the end George really went to a Benz event right??). I'm merely transferring my knowledge here but you need to note that even if I'm studying and I'm working in that field, I am far from being a 30 year expert. I'm still learning so that's why I shared what I learned here on tumblr and hoping to be able to discuss these things with the people here. Even then, I never tagged my talks or rants publicly. I always tried to censor the names and everything so it didn't reach anyone outside this bubble of georgegraphys. I am aware that my talks bear weights that's why i don't try to gain 'traction' for it. Everything is merely speculative and until it is proven otherwise, I will not do anything as to claim my speculation is true

[a-casual-egg]

So since I view Tristan as queer, I made up a boyfriend for him in my head called Oliver Rose. [: (click images for better quality)

About him under the cut

Oliver is a gay, ace, and trans asian-american man. He grew up hopping from one orphanage to the other. He also attempted to run away from them and grew up stealing. He's a fast runner and running away from orphanages is partly why. Oliver is quick-witted and will sometimes just blurt out a comeback before even thinking of if he should or not. He's normally pretty sarcastic but is also a sweetheart/big softie, especially when you get to know him.

After WW2, he is part of a transfer student-like thing for rich people's gardeners. Oliver is sent to work for Mrs.Pumphrey while Mrs.Pumphrey's gardener is sent to work for Oliver's boss for a while as both bosses are part of an international gardening society. Oliver experiences culture shock in Darrowby before ending up liking it. During his stay, Mrs.Pumphrey and him form a mother and son type dynamic. He's not as overly-polite as the British folks, so he says the more impolite things that Mrs.Pumphrey and the others can not bring themselves to say even though it needs to be said. In addition to that and his gardening, he also picks up small jobs around Pumphrey Manor and expands his skillset/has struggles with all the new things.

He first meets James and Tristan when they're on a vet visit to Pumphrey Manor, and Mrs.Pumphrey introduces them. James and Oliver have a nice conversation while Tristan, who only recently realized he's attracted to men, finds Oliver very handsome and just stands there staring at Oliver while he and James talk. Then Tristan struggles a bit to introduce himself and be all charismatic while James just looks at him very confused. (Mrs. Pumphrey, who I choose to believe, is an extreme queer ally, knows what's happening, and just smiles to herself). Oliver is nice to Tristan about it, though, and internally finds it quite charming.

The ride back to Skeldale House is silent, with Tristan staring out the window and James wondering how to broach the topic of what just happened. Tristan is embarrassed and later confides in Maggie or Florence, and they kinda just pat him on the back and tell him he's got it bad already. Over time, Tristan and Oliver become friends while Tristan fights down his crush on this man.

Siegfried is not a fan of Oliver for a while. He's concerned that Oliver is a bad influence on his little brother. His worries calm down when he sees Oliver's softer/gentler side. He brings in an injured stray cat and is close to crying about it. Siegfried takes the cat while Mrs. Hall takes Oliver into the kitchen for some tea.

The cat ends up fine and when Siegfried goes to the kitchen to inform Oliver of such, he sees that the younger man's eyes are puffy and that he was crying over a random stray cat (much like he or Tristan might do). Some stuff clicks in Siegfried's head, and then Oliver asks how the cat is. Siegfried explains that the cat needs rest, but she should make a full recovery. That makes Oliver cry more, but he's happy. Then Siegfried sees Oliver gently cradle the cat in his arms and talk to it very softly/sweetly, and Siegfried smiles to himself while coming to the conclusion that maybe Tristan's friend is good, actually.

Later, Tristan and Oliver actually end up dating, and Tristan continues to have it bad. He's does heart eyes at Oliver, especially when he does cool things. Oliver is gentle with Tristan while also playfully teasing him. Tristan gets hurt, and Oliver is like one of the first people to be by his side. He would gently clean his boyfriend's wounds while also making comments in the form of light jabs his way. Tristan would make light jabs back.

Oliver could wake up early and get out of bed and later, (at a time when they would share a bed), Tristan would get out of bed to find Oliver and be upset that Oliver left the bed and left him. He's not seriously upset, and Oliver knows that. He affectionately calls Tristan clingy, and Tristan sleepily mumbles that he is not into Oliver's shoulder. Then Oliver would give Tristan a small kiss.

They're very silly to me (affectionate). I hope you enjoyed learning about Oliver Rose [:

[shilohsharma]

full name: shiloh prava sharma

nicknames: shi, lolo

age: 28

star sign: virgo (september 21st)

hometown: albany, new york

occupation: front desk at seascape hotel

pronouns/gender: she/her, cis female

time in town: 2 years

@aurorabayaesthetic

quick facts

(tw - bio has brief mentions of homophobia and parental disownment)

shiloh is the firstborn of six children -- three sisters and two brothers -- born to indian immigrants who settled in albany, new york to start their family. her mother was a preschool teacher and her father worked as a sanitation driver. they were both invested in the american dream and were devouted to their hindu faith -- which shiloh also grew up devoted to.

around the age of sixteen, shiloh's family relocated to new york city in favor of her parents not only seeking better job opportunities, but also wanting to be closer to a more diverse community of indian people.

it was also around this age that shiloh began to question her sexuality. she didn't act on it or say anything, but certain events in her life and her feelings regarding them led her to believe that she was not one hundred percent straight. instead of facing that, she internalized it and focused on her grades instead -- earning a scholarship to cornell.

when she was in college, far enough from home that no one knew her, shiloh began to experiment with her sexuality -- having relationships and experiences with women in the freedom of starting her own life.

after her graduation, she got a job at one of the hotels owned by the banner family. she eventually worked her way up to a concierge position and was renowned for being detail-oriented and cool under pressure.

that 'cool under pressure' was more of an issue when her parents began to line up suitors for an arranged marriage -- traditional in their faith -- leading shiloh to have a meltdown over a family dinner and confessing that she liked girls.

her parents promptly iced her out afterward. wanting to escape from the pain of being disowned by her family shiloh decided to made the drastic change to get her job transfered to the seascape hotel where she hopes to gain the management position someday.

fun facts

shiloh has an impeccably decorated apartment -- she frequently sees ideas on tiktok and thinks 'i can do that' and then has tunnel vision until she can accomplish it

has a black french bulldog named 'devito' that she adopted upon moving to aurora bay

big fan of red wine

local mom friend (she misses her siblings, so she tends to project)

theeeee person to have on your bar trivia team

gets around town via bike because she never learned to drive

trying her hand at pickball

usually has her sundays saved for dateline marathons

connections

shiloh is a brand new muse to me so i'm pretty open to anything that might work within her personality and timeline!

friendly.

co-workers / neighbors / pseudo-siblings / friends / drunk friends / new friends / brunch friends / bar trivia team / clubbing friends

romantic

flirtationship / friends with benefits / one time hook ups / tinder matches / exes / exes on good terms / potential ex from her college days (would need heavy plotting)

[withlittletrust]

an ode to "Daily Dose of Sunshine"

trigger warning: mentions of suicide, depression, other mental health illnesses and spoilers to “Daily Dose of Sunshine”.

some time ago, i told myself that i wanted to finally share some highlights from last year. why now - almost a quarter of the way through the new year - you may ask. well, no reason in particular. i’ve wanted to do it for a while; i just haven’t gotten around to taking some time to sit down and organize my thoughts until recently. i figured, what better time than now?

the first highlight i’d like to share is probably something unexpected. it is not a place, it is not a moment in time, but it is a piece of art that i discovered sometime last year. shortly after my last birthday, i went on a trip with my beloved sister to strasbourg. she was feeling a bit unwell at that time, so instead of exploring the city until late, we decided it was best to return to the hotel and get some rest.

i turned on netflix because i had nothing else to do, and there it was: a new korean drama, titled “Daily Dose of Sunshine”.

having seen the trailers in passing before, this work was something that i had been looking forward to — albeit not in an overly excited kind of way. in my defense, how was i supposed to know it’s a heartwarming story, when the director made the trailer into some kind of m. night shyamalan situation?

well, i’ve never been more glad to be proven wrong.

this is something i would like to recommend to anyone interested in gaining insight into mental health issues and/or illnesses. it is suitable both as a first point of contact with these topics, and as a deeper, more insightful and eye-opening experience for those already somewhat familiar with them.

this story begins by introducing us to our main protagonist, nurse jung da-eun. she had just transferred from internal medicine, and we got to experience the station through her eyes. ones, that were somewhat unfamiliar with mental illnesses, that is.

now, as a medical student who did a 1,5-month internship in psychiatry, i already somewhat knew what to expect. nurse da-eun, however, understandably felt like she was thrown into cold water. from her first patient who slapped her before proceeding to (while running around naked) urinate in the corridor, causing nurse da-eun to fall and get soaked in (what i presume must have been still lukewarm) smelly kind of human secrete, all the way to being accused of theft and terrorized by a patient dealing with her own trauma, nurse da-eun was overwhelmed.

but all of that did not last too long, because the next moment we see her, she had already found her footing. it wasn’t all too difficult, because she was, at her core, a nurse who loved her job so much and cared deeply about her patients.

maybe, if i’d believed it were a thing, i would have said that she cared a bit too deeply. :-(

it all came crashing down when one of her patients committed suicide. it was a patient whom she had built a great rapport, who was discharged on her (through extensions) recommendations — adding to the guilt she felt. the cherry on top was the fact that this guy called her and asked her to meet up directly before he committed the act — a final request she was unable to fulfil.

depression hit hard.

at first, nurse da-eun tried to bury herself in her work. then, it was days of sleeping and nothing else. ultimately, she was forcefully committed to a psych ward after attempting to run into active traffic, because the pain she felt was so great, she couldn’t feel anything else.

in the psych ward, the first thing she felt was overwhelming anger. toward her mother, the doctor, other nurses, everyone. she was in complete denial - no, she was not depressed. no, other nurses shouldn’t treat her like a patient - she was also a nurse! a psychiatric nurse, goddamnit!

the resolution came slowly, not rushed. not in a, suddenly, everything’s good again, kind of way. not that now she’s happy again, problem solved, kind of way. she had to learn to slowly and painstakingly love herself, to see herself in a kinder way. she made the decision to choose happiness and was willing to put in the work every day, every step of the way.

—

now, WHO estimates that globally 1 out of every 4 people will be impacted by mental illness at some point in their lives. 350 million people worldwide suffer from depression. if you’re lucky enough to have made it through life unscathed so far — well good for you, but there is absolutely no guarantee that it will not happen to you or people closest to you in the future.

i think it’s important to recognize that being healthy is a privilege. while mental illnesses might not be as visible as physical illnesses, they are, as the name suggests, illnesses. just as you need to see a doctor when you get a cold, mental illnesses are medical conditions that often require treatment. the least we can do to help people that are affected is to destigmatize mental illness and promote access to mental healthcare. it is our responsibility as a society to recognize that everyone deserves the opportunity to attain and maintain good health, and it is our responsibility as fellow human beings to fight against the inequalities and disparities associated with having mental illnesses.

obviously, it can sound overwhelming at first. and no one person should bear these burdens alone. i guess what i hope you can takeaway from all of these are the simple things: educate, listen, validate, encourage treatment, and provide emotional support. be decent human beings. call me naïve, but i feel like the world could be a better place if we all followed these principles. <3.

alexa, play imagine by the beatles. :-)

—

bonus part: the juicy stuff

this work also features what is probably my favorite love story of all time. the other half of the pair is made up by one mr. dong go-yoon, a colorectal surgeon who fell for nurse da-eun. he was sweet to her while being a dependable, emotionally stable figure throughout the series. he always seemed to know exactly what to do and what to say, to support her just to be her.

now i have to admit, i initially thought he was somewhat of a weirdo. he received consultation for his ocd, because he couldn’t stop cracking his fingers so much, they became callous. he also seemed kind of like a stalker when regularly hid and waited for her at bus stops. but the later we got into the story, the more admirable and adorable i found him to be.

dr. dong go-yoon was the reason nurse da-eun got the help that she needed.

i mean, i’d like to believe that it probably would’ve happened nonetheless, sooner or later. but he was the actual reason she made a successful recovery. i feel he was a kind person, truly. he always seemed to know how to help, but not in an overbearing kind of way. he always gave her space. he let her figure things out at her own pace.

he also has a love rival in one song yu-chan, but instead of overstepping his boundaries with the childhood best friend of his crush, he deals with it like an (awesome!) adult. he even manages to be a big brother figure for the latter. he has such a kind heart and such wisdom, it leads his brain to be able to reach places i couldn’t even fathom existed.

to conclude, this guy really had the perfect response at all times. he could understand she was still hurting, he didn’t preach even though he probably knew better. he got a black eye getting into a fight with demonstrators who wanted nurse da-eun to be fired for having been admitted into a psych ward. he went out of his way and gets up early to take her on morning walks, because some days, she still stood on the border between depression and hope. but to her, he was someone who visits her before depression ever does (even though he might fall asleep during breakfast time).

it was so heartwarming to see nurse da-eun found someone like him to rely on.

—

tonight, i wish for everyone find love and companionship as solid as what they had. calm and unbothered, with roots so strong, the storms never stood a chance.

—

feel free to strike up a conversation with me regarding this topic! i’m always interested in broadening my knowledge and listening to stories from other people!

[dancingbabya-notes]

Don't want to be a burden

<-♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡ —♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡ ->

I gotta remind myself that I don't have to post a final product, or something that everyone likes. Here is an Aizawa x prohero oc

<-♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡ —♡—♡—♡—♡—♡—♡ ->

Adults make mistakes. While working in a certain field I got close to a particular co-worker. As a transfer intern from America, I wanted to keep a low profile. Everyone assumed that just because I was from America that I wanted to be in the spotlight.

Whiplash was not a spotlight kind of hero.

“Oh, hey Whiplash, are you doing alright?” Present mic is a close friend of mine and Eraser head.

“I’ve been feeling queasy, maybe I forgot to clean my fridge again,” I laugh anxiously.

I knew what was wrong. But I was going to wait for two more weeks before stopping. It’s hard to be a hero and have a child, and Eraser was doing such a good job I didn’t want to mess it up. So instead of telling him the real reason I reluctantly admitted that heroism wasn’t my calling, especially with the money and tailcoats chasers.

“Are you sure about leaving?” Eraser asks on my last day of patrol.

“Yeah, I gotta help my family back in America anyway,” I flick my vine whip and sigh. “Thank you for being my friend while I was here though.”

He frowns. “I guess you could call it that. Will you be okay over there?”

“Why do you think I have a full body suit, face mask, and I get my hair done. I’m practically unrecognizable in civilian form,” smirking I look at him with a sad smile. “I know I’m the one who decided to leave but try to keep in touch, alright?”

“I can only try.”

After returning to America I had everything set up. A place to live, and a job for after. You could take me out of heroism, but you can’t take the hero out of me. My twin bundles of joy are like heaven on earth. I got an email from Eraserhead just after they were born. Keep safe. And I did.

“Bea? You have kids, right?” My superior asks.

“Yes, I have twins why do you ask?”

“Would you be interested in going back to Japan?”

I blink. No one would recognize me so I should be fine. “Sure. Sounds great. My boys are due for a scene change.”

The twins are both boys. I felt like I had no right asking Eraser to pick a name for them and giving them Japanese names could be taken the wrong way. Luckily, I felt better giving them names from my family.

Dayo and Ejiro. Both my sons had black hair like their father and Dayo had his standoffish demeanor. Ejiro was more like me with his bubbly actions always clutching to his brother. They had combination quirks. My quirk is the ability to use plants as I please, so Dayo could look at a plant and make it grow using it as he saw fit. Ejiro could erase the plants that he would touch only if he activated them.

“Mom? You said our dad lives in Japan; you think you’ll run into him again?” Ejiro asks as we pack our things.

“No, your daddy doesn’t like to get a lot of attention. And I’m sure by now he’s got a different job,” I sigh.

During my time with Eraser, we never exchanged our civilian names. And I felt bad not even being able to give them that. But Dayo and Ejiro were more than okay with having the same last name as their mom. Free.

They were only four. Everything was supposed to be cleared away. It was for the most part. By proxy, I got a three-bedroom apartment. I wasn’t going to force the twins to share a room, they would probably be at each other’s throats. And considering the length of my work here it could be extended at any time.

They would be starting school in Japan. Luckily, they only really knew Japanese. I couldn’t get rid of the habit of speaking in Japanese at home. Once we were all moved in, I met my employer.

“Ah, so you’re the new employee. Our promotional manager,” the man states.

“Publicity, yes pleased to meet you,” I state with a bow.

“I didn’t expect a woman with your name Kirabo,”

“That’s my given name, I’d prefer if you used my surname: Free,” asserting this, I wait for a second.

“Alright.”

It was a bumpy start. A lot of people didn’t want to listen to me, but eventually, I was able to do my job. And my boys started school. I felt like I was riding on a roller coaster, but five years already went by.

Dayo and Ejiro were getting ready for middle school. I wasn’t going to pressure them they could pick where they wanted to go. But I got a call.

“Oh, hey Whip.”

I blink, it had been ten years since anyone referred to me that way. “Hello? Who may I ask is calling?”

“You don’t recognize me? I’ll be the best talk show host ever, it’s Mic.”

“Sorry for the skepticism, but it’s dangerous to even consider revealing that to you.”

“Slow down, I got in touch with your agency and they told me that you came back to Japan a few years ago. I wanted to see if you wanted to catch up a bit?” He laughs.

“Oh.” I look at the lights on in the rooms and shake my head. “I’m sorry Mic, I can’t leave my kids alone for too long.”

“YOU HAVE KIDS!?”

I retract the phone. “Yeah, I have twin boys. Sorry, I never told you.”

“No, it’s fine. But I never expected you to settle down and get married?”

“I didn’t though.”

“They how to do you have kids?”

“We’re both adults, do I need to give you the talk?”

“Wait, you didn’t leave Japan because someone hurt you right?”

“No,” looking down I sigh. “I left Japan because I didn’t know how to tell their father I was pregnant.”

“Really? Have you talked to the guy?”

“Yeah like once just after they were born.”

“That must have been rough on you.”

“Look, I don’t mind catching up with you or Eraser, just come by the apartment when you’re free. My boys are just trying to figure out what middle school they might want to go to,” I offer.

Giving him the address, I felt a bit better. They did drop by on a Saturday. I was thinking about what to buy for dinner and they were at the door.

“Hey, how’s it been?” Mic grins.

I smile. “Come in, also call me Bea. My given name often confuses others.”

Arms engulf me and I chuckle. “Nice to see you too.”

“Kayama,” she answers.

“Yamada,” mic grins.

“Aizawa,” Eraser nods.

I smile “I would change it to calling me by my surname, but I’m sure the boys will jump out of their rooms for something.”

Kayama smiles as she looks at me again. “You’ve changed so much.”

“They have taken my energy. But I still have people asking me if I’m in my twenties. I feel like they say it to be nice,” I laugh a bit.

“How come you never told me you had kids?” Aizawa looks at the picture I had on the wall.

“Didn’t think you’d be interested.”

Yamada groans. “How long has it been since we spent any time together.”

“Eleven years.” Kayama points out. “You got anything to drink?”

“I was just about to pick up some things for dinner if you three wanna stay that long?” I state.

“Sure, Nemuri and I can pick it up for you,” Yamada offers.

“I don’t want to put you out,” I frown looking at the agenda for today.

“What are you making?” Aizawa asks.

“Yakiniku, Dayo likes it. Tomorrow is Ejiro’s favorite though. I wanted to treat them since they’ve been studying so hard,” I explain.

“We can buy the stuff then,” Kayama smirks.

I hand her my wallet and thank them as they leave. Aizawa sits at the table with a coffee I clean the dishes a bit. Dayo walks out holding his travel-sized greenhouse.

“Mom, Fi isn’t looking alright. Can you check her for me?” He thrusts the container my way.

“Sure, let me dry off my hands.” I peek at the container and pout.

Focusing on the plant I didn’t notice that he grabbed his juice and sat on the other side of Aizawa.

“Hi.” I hear Dayo say.

“Learning how to grow plants from your mom?” Aizawa wasn’t a talker so this struck me as odd.

“Sort of. I’ve always been able to grow things if I stare long enough,” Dayo replies.

“Dayo, where did you go?” Ejiro calls as he runs out. “Oh, there you are.”

“They look so similar,” Aizawa comments.

“They’re twins.” I place the greenhouse back. “I don’t think the chocolate vine is taking very well. I’ll see if I can find a space for us to grow our plants.”

Ejiro runs toward me. Grabbing my shirt, I raise a brow.

“Did you two know that your mom used to be a hero?”

Ejiro nods. “Mom said that she met our dad while she was a hero.”

Dayo pouts. “She also said that she stopped being a hero so she could raise us.”

“Hey, are you both sad that I’m not a hero anymore?” I look at them.

Dayo pouts. “But if you didn’t have us, you would still be a hero and be with dad.”

I pat him gently to avoid messing up his braids. “Did someone say something?”

“Our classmate said that if we weren’t born, you’d be with someone else,” Ejiro admits.

“I’m sorry Aizawa. I didn’t think this would come up at a time like this,” I pat Ejiro gently.

“Your names are Dayo and Ejiro right?” Aizawa asks.

They nod.

“Who named you?”

“Mom did.” Dayo states.

“Who has taken care of you this whole time?”

“Mom.”

“Is she any less of a hero since she’s taking care of you two?”

Dayo pouts. “Mom is our hero.”

“That’s all you need to understand then.” Aizawa nods.

Ejiro realizes something and frowns. “Dayo, have you been feeling that weird feeling too?”

I watch them for a moment, and they walk over to Aizawa. I tilt my head a bit confused. But Aizawa moves a bit as they look at him and inspect him further.

“You look exactly like how our mom said our dad looked,” Dayo finally states.

Ejiro asks looking at him with a smile. “What is your quirk?”

“I stop other people’s quirks,” Aizawa states.

Both in unison ask. “Are you our dad?”

“Boys stop bothering him. I told you both before I’ll tell you who your dad is when you’re older,” I knead at my temple.

The door opens and Yamada is back with Kayama and the food. I busy myself with cooking and talking. By the time it’s time to go. Aizawa looks at me.

“We need to talk.”

“What if I said no?”

“Bea.”

“Fine, let me know when.”

“Next Saturday”

I felt like I was watching my own death sentence. They left and things returned to normal until the next Saturday. Babysitter for the boys and I went to go see Aizawa.

“Are they my kids?” He asks.

I roll my eyes. “Wow skip the pot and straight into the fire Huh?”

“I’m being serious.”

“I am too.”

“You went back to America because of your family?”

Holding my cup, I frown. “My parents have been dead for years now. I went back to America because I was pregnant.”

“So, are they mine?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“The truth Bea.”

“Yes, are you happy now? Dayo and Ejiro are your sons.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to trap you. Like you said hero society is full of shallow people that aren’t doing it for the right reasons.”

“You were a hero for the right reasons.”

“Yeah, and nothing would have stopped you from thinking I used you. Or that I would publicize it and paint you the bad guy,” I roll my eyes. “Look if you want to, we can do a test. But I don’t want to ruin your life. That is the exact reason I left Japan eleven years ago.”

Getting up I smile at him.

“You don’t have to see them or me if you don’t want. I wasn’t even planning on telling them until they became adults,” shaking my head I fix my clothes.

“Bea.”

Bowing to him I flash a weak smile. “Thank you for listening to me.”

Walking out of the café as a fast as I could into the busy street. My head filled with regret as I did. I couldn’t just force him to leave, I might have to work with him later, and he had a right to visit the boys if he wanted. Shaking the feeling out I quickly get to my apartment to pay the sitter. She thanks me and leaves. I should just focus on work

“No.” Slamming the folder on to the desk I could already feel the ropes of vine twisting around my body.

“What? But Free we have to—“

“If we have to, please find someone else willing to. But when I used to be a hero, I had the displeasure of working with that man for a very short period and I doubt I’d want to do it again.”

“You worked with Endeavor before?”

“Not by choice.”

“What was it like?”

“I was told from a young age to only speak for what I can pay for. And speaking about my experience with this particular man is stories above my pay grade.”

Despite my wishes I was the only one qualified to work on this, more so because I worked with Endeavor personally.

“You’re alive.” He puffs out.

“So are you.” Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms.

“Free!”

Endeavor raises a brow. “I’ve worked with her before, nothing particularly nasty has come out yet.”

Turning away I huff. “I can’t afford to pay for the damages otherwise, and I have kids to care for, old man.”

Oh, do I hate his arrogant attitude. Walking home I didn’t expect to see Aizawa standing at my door when I walked up the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” I reach to unlock the door.

But it opens. “Mom you’re back, Oh, hi Mr. Aizawa.”

“Come in.” I wave as I walk into the door.

Ejiro looks at the man and pouts. “Mom, you said you’d help me with my homework today.”

“I know, bring it to the living room so we can work on it,” taking off my shoes I release a sigh.

Aizawa takes off his shoes and I look at him with a sigh. “Please make yourself comfortable on the couch, I’ll get you something to drink as soon as I get back from changing.”

“Mom, I don’t feel—“ Dayo pokes his head from his room door and I have barely a second to catch him with my quirk.

Moving slowly toward him I frown. “Ejiro, come here.”

He walks over and looks at me. I place my hand on his forehead and frown. They were both running fevers.

“In bed both of you. I’ll make some porridge,” I grumble.

“He looks fine,” Aizawa points out.

I look at him and shake my head. “No, Ejiro seems to be more hyper than usual. I don’t know if it’s because he’s running a fever, but I know the boys.”

Picking up Dayo, I walk toward his bed. We got a corner apartment, so all the bedrooms have windows, and Dayo was so serious about learning how to grow plants that his room looked like a nursery.

“Mommy,” Dayo frowns. “I wanna sleep in your room. I don’t wanna be alone.”

“What’s wrong?” Aizawa appears again.

“Change of plans, can you make the porridge? I shouldn’t ask a guest, but I need to pick up Ejiro to lay them down together.” I sigh.

Aizawa frowns. “They’ll get sicker.”

“Mommy.” Ejiro wines from his room door.

“Come on, we’re gonna have a sleepover in mommy’s room,” I smile.

Dayo and Ejiro are both the same in height, weight, and appearance. But their personalities were always very distant normally, they liked to be independent and do things on their own or together. They got sick together, and it was like having toddlers again.

Laying Dayo on one side of the bed, I help Ejiro climb on the other side. Pulling the cooling patches from the drawer I place one on their foreheads.

Changing the temperature setting, I walk toward the bathroom and quickly change. Tying my hair in a ponytail I walk into the boy’s rooms and take the sheets from their beds. Grabbing their matching plushies. Aizawa seems to watch me as I do my tasks.

The sheets lay in a bundle by my bedroom door. Placing their plushies in their open arms I sigh. Leaving my bedroom door open I start cleaning.

“Need any help?”

“Yeah, just make some coffee. I’m gonna run down the conbini downstairs and buy some sports drinks after I start the clothes.”

“Is this how you usually are with them?”

“Aizawa, are you gonna keep asking questions while I’m trying to make sure they are comfortable?”

He holds up his hands in defense and I roll my eyes. It was maybe ten minutes before I finished getting everything and walking back in. Both of them were sound asleep, but I kept the door open just in case they needed anything.

“So why are you here?” I look at my cup of coffee.

“Because I wanted to talk to you again.”

Rolling my eyes, I frown. “I hope this isn’t some sense of responsibility because they are your kids too?”

“What do you mean?”

“My parents got married because my mom thought she had to marry the man who got her pregnant. She hated him. She hated me, but she loved my little brother. When she died before I came to Japan, she told me that she wished I’d never been born that way she could have gone on about her life.”

“Then did you hate me?”

“No, I never hated you. I mean I don’t hate you, but I was scared that you’d hate me.”

He frowns. “Do you think so little of me?”

“Aizawa, we were twenty. I just barely knew what being an adult meant,” finding that I feel I'm just excusing my behavior I sigh. “What would you have done if I stayed?”

“We would have gotten married.”

I shake my head. “I wouldn’t have been ready, I felt ready to have the twins, but not to get married.”

“Are you still not ready to get married?”

“What?”

“I know it’s been a long time, and we haven’t talked but I want to be there for them.”

“I need time to think about it. Besides I’m not stupid. You think I haven’t seen the news, hell I work in All Might’s publicity department. I’m just—“

Hearing one of them wake up I get up and send him a weak smile. “Aizawa, maybe I would have said yes five years ago. But I need time.”

“I understand. But I can’t just let you go off like that,” he mumbles. “Talking about us and the boys wasn’t the only reason that I came here; I was thinking that the kids needed a kind of guest speaker. Someone who was in from an early age.”

Looking at him I nod. “Just tell me when.”

Dayo and Ejiro recovered from their beginning of summer cold. A car was sent and Aizawa let them sit at his desk while I talked.

Standing awkwardly in my hero costume I fixed my cape a bit. Class 1-A of this year at Yuuei had been on the news more than any other class. They only looked like children to me.

“Today I thought it would be better to get a word from someone who started off at your age as a hero,” Aizawa states and they seem to grow quiet

One boy in the back jumps from his seat excited. “You’re the bondage hero Whiplash.

“I was hoping that name would not stick,” chuckling I rub at the back of my back. “Yes, I am Whiplash, in english the name is actually supposed to be capture hero. But my agent at the time mixed up the translations so when I came to Japan at eighteen, I was known as the bondage hero.”

One girl holds up her hand and I nod for her to ask. “But you stopped hero work almost ten years ago.”

I nod. “Yes, see I started hero work at sixteen and I loved every bit of it. I haven’t exactly stopped working as a hero considering I still have my license for emergencies.” Pulling the clip from my belt under my cape I hold up the small device. “I carry this device everywhere I go in case they need me. It’s only very special cases that I’ve been called. Crowd control, sometimes damage control. I’ve had the pleasure of working with many heroes before I stopped my public actions.”

“Why did you leave?”

Thinking of my kids I smile. “Life happens, my little brother was in a tight spot back in America, and since I was his legal guardian I had to leave. There were other things involved in it too. I um—”

Aizawa raises a brow. “You can tell them.”

I take a deep breath. “The first nail I the coffin that made me leave was a particular partnership. See I was used to working with Aizawa when I went on patrols or for missions. So, imagine my surprise when I had to work with your current number 2. I’m gonna sum it up by saying that was a very unpleasant experience and having to work with him again recently was still the same. If I’m being honest, I wish I could have gone to a hero school like you guys decided to. The second nail was my body was no longer my own if you understand what I mean. I would have to be caring for new life soon. My dad didn’t raise me to be a quitter, so I talked to my agency and I got transferred back to America and into the Publicity department.”

“I’m lucky that I could keep my license. In America we are much more relaxed in certain aspects, if it is an emergency, I could use my quirk to save someone. An emergency can be boiled down to the endangerment of someone’s life. So,” I flicked at the projector and an image came up. “A bus directed for a store, someone walking in the middle of the street when the light is red, faulty construction equipment. Personally, my least favorite because I have to grow and wrap vines together since I use plants and not trees. A tree is a plant, but it’s not one I have a lot of control over.”

“Why’d sensei have you come by?” someone mumbles.

I raise a brow. “Well, I have maybe what two years’ experience ahead of your teacher. While he was learning to use this quirk, I was already working in the field in a country with a rather high reported crime rate. America doesn’t have many specialized hero schools, there’s only two. But they are filled with superficial people who do it for money and fame, when a real emergency comes up, they cannot protect others and barely themselves. So, tell me Mineta, would you prefer that every day you’re left at the mercy of what life usually throws at tenfold?”

“How many real heroes are there in America then?” Iida holds up his hand.

I think. “Quite a few, but not enough for the current population density. Think about it this way if there is a certain hero to civilian ratio, then I’d wanna say we have a one to one hundred—

“That’s not so bad.”

“One hundred thousand. In the city I worked there was two other heroes like me, and as the child everyone kind of didn’t trust me at first. That was until the dam incident,” I sigh. “I’ve never seen so many people change their tune so quickly. But I was never a hero for recognition, so as soon as I was able, I came to Japan to learn from the heroes here. I planned to be a hero for at least well into my thirties. While I technically still am, they don’t often call for a single mom to come patrolling.”

Throwing my hands up I force the net to catch the two falling children. The door opens and Yamada is looking round a little worried. Taking my mask off with the free hand I send both my children the look.

“On the ground, now. Both of you. Yamada, I’m not mad trust me,” I look to the worried teacher.

Dayo and Ejiro climb down. Placing my mask on the desk I retract the plants and hold my hand toward the kids.

“Who’s that?”

“These are my sons. Dayo and Ejiro, sadly it seems I’ve jumped the gun by trying to help them learn their quirks. They have the same quirk surprisingly, both stare at plants to make them grow and manipulate them. But Ejiro can manipulate them if he’s holding them.” I explain. “The staring factor of their quirks comes from their father’s quirk. Like I was trying to say, being a hero has consequences. All action has consequences, I could have chosen to stay in Japan and handle my little brother’s situation remotely. Or I could have left to handle that situation and come back to Japan. But I decided to return to America. I wouldn’t change my decision for the world. Since I haven’t stopped being a Hero, I could slowly return to hero work, but I find my work as a mom just a little bit more important. If I spend my life regretting an action, I’ll possibly cause a bigger problem by not focusing on the present.”

“Aizawa sensei, they look a lot like you,” one girl says.              

I look at Aizawa and then back at my children and I chuckle. “They do look similar, don’t they?”

His eyes go wide as I send him a wink before putting my mask back on.

“It was nice meeting you class 1A. Please remember that just because there were different actions you could have taken does not invalidate your choice. You chose it. Just like how all of you decided to become heroes and continue attending school. Also weighing your value solely based on how the public views you is stupid, and frankly it worked fine for the father of my children to not be a flashy hero.”

It was a quick venture back to our apartment. My frustration died down as I look over Dayo and Ejiro for any kind of injury. Even though I had yet to even utter a syllable of how worried I was, the moment I let go of him Ejiro began sobbing. Dayo looks to his twin brother with a confused look. Instead of scolding them I just let them rest in their rooms.

After making dinner and putting the trays in front of their doors I pick my phone. Aizawa wanted to come over a few days later. Letting him I felt a bit awkward as I fixed my sweater to sit in a comfortable position. It was the moment that I didn’t want to look like a tired workaholic that I did. He sends me a slight nod before taking to the dinner table and letting me make some coffee.

“So, what happened after?”

“Besides making Ejiro cry, nothing. I’m just upset that they thought climbing that high was okay,” I frown. “I can’t train them to be careful of things like that or people might think I’m a terrible mom.”

“Can I talk to them?”

“Yeah, getting scolded by a teacher a few days after the incident is good.”

These kids must have a sixth sense for when their dad comes into the house.

“Mr. Aizawa, do you like our mom?” Ejiro asks as he walks out of his room.

Dayo sighs and shakes his head. “Mom doesn’t think about romantic relationships.”

“I hate that you decided that on your own.”

“Then do you like Mr. Aizawa?”

I sigh. “Of course, I do, but there are a lot of adult details that change how I can approach that.”

Dayo groans. “Why didn’t you just stay with our dad?”

I frown. “Dayo.”

“Dayo’s right, mom why didn’t you stay with our dad?” Ejiro adds.

“I have an idea, why don’t we get some dinner and just watch a movie today?” Aizawa states.

I frown. “Fine.”

This isn’t a bad idea in theory, but I’m sure this man has something up his sleeve. He doesn’t do anything unnecessary. He picked where we got the food from, I went to go pick it up while he stayed with the boys. When I came back it was still fine, no fires or plants creeping from the rooms.

“Mom, your queen ann is looking sad,” Dayo points out.

“I haven’t had time to tend to my plants, remember who wanted me to come and record for your school sports festival?” I shake my head.

Aizawa looks at me and raises a brow. “How athletic are they?”

I chuckle. “Surprisingly Dayo is the more athletic one. Ejiro has his moments. Wanna see their pictures?”

“MOM!”

Putting my food down I lean toward the small bookshelf we have by the entertainment system. Grabbing the album, I place it on my lap and show Aizawa.

“Which pictures you want to see first?”

“How about the beginning?” he suggests.

“Mom no.” Ejiro whines.

“Oh, hush up.” I giggle. “Let him see.”

Dayo stops eating. “Let dad see what he missed.”

Aizawa practically chokes on his food.

“Yeah you two are too similar.” I roll my eyes.

After regaining his composure Aizawa takes the album. “So how often did you take pictures?”

“The invention of smart phones has been my saving grace. I’m surprised they even let me twist their hair at this point let alone invite me to sporting events.” I smile. “Finish your food and then you two can tell me how your twin sense told you that he was your dad.”

“That would ruin the surprise,” Dayo shakes his head.

Holding the album in my lap still I leaf through the pages slowly. Aizawa peeks over my shoulder as he looks at the pictures as well, the changes in his expression as I turn the pages makes the time it took to put everything together worth it. Ejiro and Dayo finish their food quickly.

“What is this?”

“Oh, that’s right, you’ve never met my little brother. Kaipo is a bit averse to pictures, but he was holding the boys while we were at the beach,” I sigh. “Surprisingly enough for someone with a water plant quirk he doesn’t like the ocean.”

He takes the album from me and looks at the page then back up at me. “You both look so similar I thought he might be your twin.”

“He’s four years younger than me.” I chuckle.

“Are we allowed to call Mr. Aizawa, dad, now?” Ejiro asks.

Aizawa chuckles. “I don’t mind.”

I nod. “As long as he is okay with it.”

“Dad, do you think we can spend more time with you?” Dayo whispers. “That way mom has more time to spend being a hero too.”

“Wait, Dayo- ”

Aizawa shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do that kiddo. I still got hero work on the side, and honestly my class has most of my hands tied. Maybe your mom will start hero work when she’s ready.”

Fixing my posture, I sigh. “I was gonna start patrolling while you guys were in class once you start middle school. If I could start now I would, but I’m not confident that you guys would be fine without me here after school.”

“What?! We can take care of ourselves.” Ejiro argues

“Five.” I glare.

He shuts his mouth, but this gets Aizawa’s attention.

“Five what?”

Dayo shakes his head furiously. Ejiro covers his ears.

“Five times. Let them be alone, each time I got a call because of the plants,” I explain. “Someone had to wear a quirk limiter while they were sleeping for six months.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Not our best moments.” Dayo grumbles. “But mom is really good at fixing plants, so the neighbors don’t mind.”

Aizawa starts chuckling. “Well if you ever need me to mind them when I’m not working, I don’t mind.”

[eleanordevar]

you’ll never guess who i saw in stanley park. that’s right, it was ELEANOR DEVAR. [ she/her ] is a [publishing coordinator] and they’re apparently a/an [slayer ]. did you hear they are [talented and adept ] but also [ reluctant and repellent ]? no wonder, anyone who reminds me of [ any extremely small apartment, someone content in the back of the crowd, the surprise when one last firework goes off] is sure to give that impression.

Basic Information

Full Name: Eleanor Devar

Nickname(s): El, EL D

Age: 25

Date of Birth: June 22

Hometown: Monmouth County, New Jersey

Current Location: Vancouver

Occupation: Publishing Coordinator

Living Arrangements: A small, very last minute apartment

Eleanor’s one claim to fame was taking out a vampire nest that ran a casino hotel in Atlantic City when she was eighteen. The situation did quickly turn unsightly, especially for the shot-gun wedding taking place in the lobby where it was revealed shortly after that the groom was indeed a Torto demon who had gotten a discount on the location after the vampire in charge owed him in a kitten bet. 

And it raised Eleanor’s profile a little more than the Watcher’s Council had cared for. It seemed that with the sheer number of slayers popping up, that standing out was becoming a problem. 

That in itself was shocking for Eleanor, who often made herself small and did as she was told. Her watcher did advocate on her behalf and frankly, she was happy to go back to nightly patrols on the shore and boardwalk until it was time to start college.

From Monmouth County to Monmouth University, Eleanor seemed like a sheltered kid who never strayed far from home. She balanced what she could between being a teen in a sea of high schoolers, a slayer in a sea of those recently activated, and then a young adult in a sea of commuters into the city.

As word spread about Vancouver, Eleanor’s senses elevated - where was her duty and what did she actually owe back to anyone? Was this about being an individual slayer or about what she'd be able to do if she joined that growing group?

Her early career as a publishing and editorial coordinator was suffering as her grades had suffered because of the late nights training, and her ‘destiny’ suffered because her missions never played to her strengths. 

Little El D from Jersey begged HR to transfer her to the west coast Vancouver office. 

Little El D from Jersey hugged her mom tight wondering if she’d be safer without her around (let’s face it hell mouths draw in evil, but slayers attract it like bees to pollen). 

Little EL D shipped herself out there without any word to her old watcher still somewhere in Monmouth County with a new batch of tween potential slayers. 

In Vancouver, El got herself a small apartment. She’s still trying to decorate the best she can. Her new office was smaller, less gray than the old one and the flow of work seemed different. She was never one to say something was better or worse, just different. As for the balance of slaying and ‘destiny’ as it was often put before her - she was cynical, skeptical. As usual El did what was asked and got the job done… but that little spark that went off in her that one time - that one time that she made it out against every odd in the world - hadn’t seemed to re-ignite. 

FACTS AND STUFF 

El never went far from home, never traveled for slaying or training

Word spread fast when she was 18 after the hotel incident. It seemed either she was going to either be the next great or the next rogue agent. When neither happened, El shrunk into herself more

She was always shy and is absolutely the cutest and sweetest person in the word. But that "spark" oh yeah there's some rage in there

Yes, El’s reputation is something she’s struggling to live up to - but that’s much more internalized than it is how the external world sees her

Plot and Connection Ideas

A Slayer who was meant to potentially be her replacement back home when the Council was skeptical of El’s ability to control situations and was afraid she’d become a rogue slayer

A watcher in Vancouver who she has a very complicated relationship with - maybe they are trying to get her to experiment more with her skillset because they’ve seen that side of her come out - even when she doesn’t herself

The Kingpin Vampire of Atlantic City (working title) - so like yes Eleanor took out that nest running a casino hotel, but what if there was a bigger picture...someone else who's business venture was ruined that night

More ideas to come!

[fahadventure]

My TEFL Journey In a nutshell

Alhamdulillah, by the grace of Almighty, in the 2nd last year (2021), I have passed the 198 hours Level 5 TEFL certification course (168 guided hours + Teaching English online 30 hours) from The TEFL Academy. For those, who might want to know, Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) involves teaching English abroad or online where English is not the primary language. TEFL educators can work for international and global schools, foreign companies, international organizations and associations, and internationally recognized universities, just to name a few. You can read more about my adventures in  Fahadventure.

I have been thinking about doing this since 2018, just after my Graduation from the Institute of Business Administration, Dhaka University (IBA, DU), Bangladesh, but could not really focus much as I got involved in corporate culture, after joining an event management company, namely Asiatic Experiential Marketing Limited. Later on, in May,2019, I joined a locally reputed bank, BRAC Bank where I continued to work for two and a half years. In the meantime, the overall lockdown phases during 2020 and 2021 finally came as a blessing among all those office workloads, few trips and some personal hassles which motivated me once again to work from home and pursue my dreams. This certificate is just like a passport to travel the world while I'll start working on attaining the visa i.e jobs abroad once it reopens. For now, I am exploring the online possibilities to start with. Check out the vacancies for better exploration.

Just after leaving the job of my previous organization, BRAC Bank, I got the opportunity to join a global platform within few months, named as "Native Camp" where my everyday work nowadays involves teaching and talking people online, mostly from China, Japan & Taiwan and I can't even explain how happy I am right now to have those sessions and exchange our thoughts with fun while doing so. I am also an avid learner and traveler with interest in knowing cultures and norms from all around the globe. I have worked for a very short time in this period with Lingua Roma, a global teaching company where I had to work with South Africans, Russians, French, Kenyans etc. Apart from that, while traveling in various parts of India and Thailand, I resided in the local hostels and houses to mingle with mixed races and know more about them. You can have a look at my teaching profile.

Being a TEFL tutor is a great way to build transferable skills, like communication, creativity, adaptability, critical thinking, problem solving, and leadership etc. It's been a tiring journey with lots of obstacles since I didn't know who to connect with for suggestions; specially anyone from my country. So, I had to look for international blogs, knock random people and gain idea on this. I would humbly request to expand my knowledge if anyone wants to know & explore this beautiful world together. I'll be writing other detailed posts about my journey and other tefl course online, tefl jobs in the coming days. For now, you can look the official website if it fits your budget. Please keep me in your prayers so that I can smoothly advance towards my dream journey, not just by sitting at a corner of the office. Thank you all. Soooo excited! 🤩

Read the full article again and know more about my adventures in  Fahadventure.

[expatesque]

How did you get your current finance job? What did your interviews involve and how did you find prep materials for them coming from a non-finance background? Did you use a recruiter or was it just lots of desk research? Any websites which helped?

So I got very lucky and found this job through my network - my boss is also an ex lawyer from the same firm I was at. That would be my recommended approach if you're changing careers -- network, network, network. Try to find people you have a natural connection to, ideally someone who's transferred from your current industry into the one you're trying to enter. You can also utilize university and school networks, friends of friends, any way that works. Finance is an industry that does a lot more informal recruiting / hiring than some others (e.g. law), so contacts can be really helpful.

I would also probably talk to a recruiter because it can't hurt. Ideally try to find someone who works with smaller, more niche companies within finance - as a career changer, you have a better bet with smaller companies vs the huge investment banks. But I do think networking is likely to be a more fruitful route.

Also do keep in mind that you may need to do some interning or temporary contracting before getting a full-time role as a career changer. I did a 3 month internship at my current job before getting hired for the full-time role.

For interviews, my now-boss recommended a few books to me which I read as prep + I looked on glass door. What books will be relevant to you depends on what area of finance you're going into and the philosophy of wherever you're interviewing. For me, we're long-only, equity-only, and contrarian so I read Howard Marks (Mastering the Market Cycle I think), Superforecasting, and Competition Demystified (Greenwald & Khan). Finance loves books so reading around is probably a good bet - there's lots of lists of best business books from places like the FT, McKinsey, etc. I'm sure with some googling you can find a list of classic titles too. And when in doubt, Buffet's letters are always a good bet.

[bearsinpotatosacks]

All the Knowledge in the World - Whumptober 2023

Jaylah gets into an accident at work. She's rushed off to sickbay but they run into an issue when they need to transfer blood.

For day 25 of @whumptober . Also on AO3.

Words: 1255

"Len, we need blood, she’s lost three litres already, if this was any other patient-"

"I know!" He shouted, his hands were blue from trying to stop Jaylah from bleeding out on the table. "I know Christine, but she's the only kind of her species that we have on the ship, I don't exactly have a whole lot saved up."

He sighed. "Swab."

Another nurse handed him one as the rest of the medical staff worked around him.

"You're telling me Spock hasn't synthesised her blood yet? We do it all the time and he started half an hour ago."

The swab, now soggy with blue blood, hung heavily in his hand as he put it in a tray next to him. "He said it's taking a little longer than expected-where the fuck is Peterson is when you need him I need a surgeon in here goddammit."

Scotty, stood over at the sidelines, whitened as Bones carried on trying to close some of the tissue damage but each time he repaired it with the Regenerator it would just rip and start the cycle again. 

"Can't you just use the blood she’s losing?"

Bones stared down at where Christine was suctioning the blood with a nozzle. It fed into a bag hanging next to the IV.

"Of course, autotransfusing, Scotty you're a genius." He looked a little smug at the statement.

"Autotransfusing? What's that?" Asked a new medical cadet, on her Constitution-Class rotation, poor girl landed the Enterprise.

"Do they teach you guys anything nowadays? It's when you give a person their own blood back."

Christine sighed and smiled at the girl as she started a line to get the blood back into Jaylah’s body. "It's an ancient technique," she said, then side-eyed McCoy. "You're just lucky your teacher thinks it's good practice to learn practical, outdated things, just in case. It's only because he’s a little outdated himself."

"I'll let you off on that one Christine." He said, pointing his finger at her.

He kept his eyes on the heart rate monitor. If this worked, she’d be in the clear. They just needed her to hold on until Spock figured out how to synthesise her blood. She’d gotten into an accident doing an emergency repair while the ship had been in a tense situation. With all the lurching and shockwaves from being hit, it must have been hard to keep your balance, he certainly got annoyed when he kept stumbling while trying to heal patients. 

“It’s working, Len, her heart rate’s coming down,” Christine pointed out.

“Not as much as I would like, and we can’t do this for long,” he carried on trying to repair the tissue as his gloves became slippery with blood. He really needed a surgeon in here, because as skilled as he was, some things needed an even better pair of hands than his. “Where the fuck is that blood?”

“Here, Doctor,”

Spock appeared beside him without a sound. He jumped, probably not a good idea when you’ve got your hands inside a crewmember. That sounded wrong. 

“Well, where is it?” He said, looking at his empty hands. 

“I have figured out the formula, if I could just enter it into the blood synthesiser-”

“Why are you asking me? Just do it, we’re trying to keep someone alive here!”

Spock gave one of those not-sighs he did when annoyed but hiding it. He turned to a panel in the wall and input symbols so fast his fingers almost blurred. He would have to ask him how he’d done it when he wasn’t so highly strung.

“Why don’t people just do things they know they should do? Why do they keep coming to me for permission to do their damn jobs?” He muttered under his breath.

Her tissues were still tearing as he repaired them. For a second, he wondered if they have staples anywhere, he knew they used them in the 20th and 21st centuries to repair internal injuries and thought it was barbaric. Although, now he was looking down at the gaping holes pooling with blood, he understood why you needed something harsh, but durable in the field sometimes. 

“Done,” Spock said, turning to the group.

“Christine, link her up-” He started to tell her but she was already there. 

“When am I ever not two steps ahead of you?” 

He just huffed and waited until the monitor beeped. For a second, there was a whirring sound as it began to formulate the blood. Soon, the tube leading to her arm filled with the cobalt blood that pumped itself through her body. 

They group waited, panting as he held the regenerator in a shaking hand. If this worked, it would be a medical miracle. It would open up more channels for aid in emergency situations, it would mean they could travel to new uncharted space without fear of running out of supplies for the less common species on the ships. He and Spock would have to write a paper about it sometime. 

The worst happened next. Her heart rate skyrocketed. Her breathing went out of control, body jerking like she was possessed. 

“Undo it, undo it, now!” He screamed at anyone that would listen.

Spock pressed a button on the monitor as Christine hooked her back up to her own blood again. 

“What happened, Doctor?”

“It was wrong, the formula was wrong, her body’s rejecting it,” he lent in further. “Dammit, she’s not breathing!”

He reached out for an intubation tray and began to use it to open her mouth. When he got an opening, he reached for an intubation tube and guided it down her trachea and linked her up to oxygen reserves and hoped to god that was the worst of it. 

“How? I was sure that I was right.” Spock said, turning back to the screen. 

“You always are,” he mumbled. 

Spock studied the screen for a second as Bones and his medical team flew around Jaylah like bees. Scotty edged closer and closer to the edge of the trauma room. This mustn't be easy for him.

"I think I understand where I went wrong," Bones liked hearing when he admitted he was wrong. "There is a carbon-carbon bond here that, in a two-dimensional space looks identical but in a three-dimensional space is-"

"Skip to the end, Spock!" McCoy and Christine shouted.

"It's an optical isomer, it mirrors itself and becomes a different chemical because of how it bonds."

"It mirrors," he whispered. "So it flipped around in her body?"

"Yes, most likely leading to a lack of oxygen uptake due to-"

"It not being the right thing," he said. "Can you correct it?"

"I already have." He smirked in his own Vulcan way.

Smug bastard. "Hook her up again, let's try this a second time."

He held his breath as he waited for the machine to stop whirring. Once it clicked, he tensed his hands as he watched identical blue blood flow down the tube and into her arm.

For a second, the entire room, and seemingly the entire ship, was still as they waited to see what would happen. And nothing did. Nothing bad anyway. 

As her heart rate dropped. He got back into place just as Peterson rounded the corner.

"Ten minutes too fucking late, as usual, Peterson."

He just scowled at him. He was one of those surgeons who cared more about the craft than the people.

"She's all yours," he said, ripping off his gloves and throwing them in the trash.

----

I used all my knowledge from ER to write this. The intubation especially. Also my Chemistry A-Level. Spock was trying to explain Optical Isomers, where a chemical is identical in every way but a mirror image of it is different, mainly in the body (such as methanol in vapour rub turning to something that tests positive for meth, yes that meth). Thanks for reading! @whumptober-archive