#im a work so you know it's time to get paid to slack off and write

[shyravenns]

141 Barn Cats AU

Thinking about an AU where Laswell is an unwilling participant in the cat distribution system, and the rest of 141 are just stray cats that she can't get rid of.

There's Bear who's name was appropriately given by Laswell's darling wife (much to her silent aggravation). He was the first cat who appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and settled in as if he were the one paying mortgage. A great big, fluffy creature with faint scars littering his body and small nick in his ear that tells Laswell that he's as much as a soldier as she is. Amber eyes calmly staring back at her from his perch on their counter, as she startles at the sight of him in the morning, already a self made king in the home that she shares her with her wife. A small twitch to his whiskers, and she can tell (though she'd rather be tortured than say this out loud) that he's rather amused by her startled yelp. Her wife adores him given by the simple brown collar she managed to get around his neck, and Laswell knows it's rather embarrassing to be resentful of a cat when said cat strangely prefers Laswell's lap to sit on. Laswell's never been an animal lover, and cats are as much of an enigma to her as lions or tigers, but she's grown attached to the big brown cat with amber eyes that naps on her desk and purrs when she looks at him.

One cat is enough. One cat is supposed to be enough.

And then comes Ghost. A great big black cat that makes her hesitate and wonder if he's really a cat and not some sort of unknown species of feline given his size. A great big, black cat that watches her with a stillness that reminds her a little tiger. Seemingly even more scarred as Bear is, and she wonders just briefly how tough it must be to be a stray cat. A guest who Bear had seemingly brought to them. disappearing for a few days as he often does as they live in a great stretch of land that she inherited, and appearing almost out of the blue on their front porch with a cat that almost seems to fidget given the anxious twists of it's tail as Laswell stares and her wife coos at them. She sighs, rolls her eyes, and glares down at Bear as she widens her door just a bit and allows both cats to stalk inside and begins to wonder if they're even cats in the first place and not some cosmic punishment sent to fuck with her. Ghost doesn't interact much with them save for the occasional pat on the head, and allowing them to get close enough to slip a simple black collar on him. Laswell, knowing not to say anything, when he wife orders a collar with a skull design. Often spending his time prowling after Bear, or hesitantly allowing her wife to get near him while he sits on the window sill, and watches the world outside.

Two cats is more than enough, and she always gives a little sigh before adding kitty litter to her basket.

Bear and Ghost are enough. They're calm, quiet, and independent enough for Laswell to focus on other things.

Until it's 1am, and the yowling of a cat (that she knows isn't one of hers) drags her out of a sleep so blissful she'd cry if she weren't so annoyed. Soap is the name her wife gives him (and pouts when Laswell stares at her in disbelief), as they stumble downstairs to see their unwelcome visitor shaking off the excess bubbles off of his coat as he crawls out from the kitchen sink. Laswell isn't done mouthing "what the fuck" before her wife laughs, and grabs the spare towel on the counter in order to help him dry off. Ignoring the open window above the sink where they assumed he managed to sneak in. Soap is,,,everything a cat should not be in Laswell's rather unprofessional opinion, and reminds her of a dog more often than not. Energetic and noticeable as he makes their house his home within a matter of hours. Making fast friends with Bear, and oddly enough seeming to prefer the company of Ghost. It's not uncommon for her to catch them on the same window sill in the evening or grooming each other much to her own silent delight. He's a nuisance in her opinion, but a very welcome one (and her favorite, but she'd never say that out loud)

And just when she thinks that three is enough there is, of course, another expected unexpected guest.

She's not surprised in the slightest when she wakes up and spies the lean brown cat watching her as he sits beside Bear, Soap, and Ghost as if he's always been there (It's an interesting feeling to wonder if she's been gaslit by a cat) with a slight tilt to his head as if she's the one who shouldn't be here. She doesn't say much to her wife as they both give each other a tired yet amused glance towards one another and watch as he curls his tail around his paws and purrs when begin to take out another bowl. Gaz, they name his together, when gives a small chirp at the tv at the sound of the nickname. He's not as energetic as Soap (thank GOD), but he manages to worm himself into her wife's heart pretty quickly in a way that tells her that he won't be going anywhere anytime soon. He has a liking towards Bear, who often lets him nap beside him on the couch in her office. And appears to have made fast friends with Soap and Ghost as she catches all three of them curled up in the kitchen underneath a sunbeam.

They're good cats, all of them. She doesn't *quite* know where the hell they all came from, but it's hard to really want to know when she gets to fall asleep to the sound of purrs and her wife's gentle snores.

[leggerefiore]

Comporto Male

cw: AFAB reader, 18+ content, breeding kink, spanking, office sex

Pairing: Ingo/Reader

Request: I love Emmet being the horny one but I think Ingo should have a turn to be horny and unfiltered, ya know…as a treat

Words: 3078

i need to work on my horny ingo… also trying new things with my writing style hope it's alright, felt too blocky and bulky

It was rare that you could work the older twin up into such a tizzy, but somehow you had managed it. 

Well, it was not easy, naturally. Ingo's lower libido and overall lack of interest in sex was something to overcome.

Not that it was a problem, but sometimes your needs felt unattended to. All you needed to do was tell him, and he was more than happy to help you, but… Seeing him so desperate and aggressive was a nice change.

A nice change you would give Hisui credit for. One of the very few changes you liked from the time spent away from your lovely boyfriend.

It was likely terribly mean of you to try and work him up before he even got out the door. His return to work was something welcome and exciting; the loss of his memories had seemingly healed, and an urge to try his beloved job again came back. He had been back at work for well over three months now and was already falling back into his workaholic ways. 

You pulled him in for a kiss, tugging him closer by his tie. He had chuckled before wrapping his arms around you and reciprocating the affection. Pushing him against the wall, you pressed your hips flush to his and lightly ground against him. He let out a soft groan, with a redness growing across his cheeks. As you felt him begin to get hard, you pulled away. "Have a good day at work, Ingo!" you smiled at him, grabbing his lunch you prepared for him from the table, "I love you!"

His brows furrowed while he took the bag from you. A few light pants left him, but he shook his head. Now was not the time for a quickie, he decided. The boner would get away on his walk to work and go unnoticed in his black slacks. He kissed your cheek one last time, "I love you, too, my dear. Farewell, it's time for departure!" He left you alone.

Next, you decide to text him. 

Ingo was not an avid texter, honestly. If we wished to discuss something with you, he would simply phone you instead. That wouldn't do, however. Ingo would refuse to play along over a call, so you made do with your knowledge. 

"im so lonely ingo :("

"this morning had me all riled up… i wish you would have pushed me onto the table"

"railed me against it until all i could remember were sounds of your name"

"mmm… ingo, you're so much bigger now and can fuck me right against a wall"

"thinking about licking down that scar on your stomach until i reach your cock and then sucking you off while you push me to take it deeper"

"Dear, I ask that you not send me these kinds of texts while I am at work. I am quite busy today and have no interest in playing along. When I return home this evening, however, I will be happy to help you. See you then."

You huffed. Though, from the second half of his message, you knew that you had him where you wanted him. A little bit more should send him into a frenzy. Making your way into the bedroom, you carefully looked over some clothing to wear when you paid your lovely boyfriend a visit at work.

Ingo was currently losing his mind. Just when his boner finally goes down, you start sending him those sort of messages. Emmet shot him a concerned look as he tossed the device away from himself. Were you that interested in torturing him? Had he fallen short in taking care of your needs? He couldn't know. 

The older twin could bear it. He was the responsible one. Even if the first thing he did after regaining memories of you was fuck you so hard into the mattress that you could barely walk the next day. He hadn't realised just how much stronger his body had become, and the first recollections in his head were ones of wanton nights spent together. 

That black, lace chemise had simply been too much for his brain. The patterns of flowers, and the feeling of the fabric against his teeth as he had bit into it. His hands groping the warm flesh of your thighs. Everything in his body sorted into a though of 'take, take, take' and left him almost a slave to instinct. 

Ingo had felt deeply ashamed of himself afterwards, but you had reassured him many, many times that you were perfectly fine with him being a bit more rough. In fact, you enjoyed it. It just wasn't something Ingo felt aligned with in how he saw himself.

"Ingo… Gross," Emmet stood up from his desk, "And I'm horny one." His younger twin was mocking him now. Lovely. Making his way to the door, Emmet shot a glance at him, "I'm going to check on the trains. Enjoy the paperwork. A depot agent got punched by an irate commuter, and now there's a looooot of reports and documents needed."

Ingo thought that was what he missed most about Hisui. Irida never expected him to fill out endless reports about every single incident he saw in the highlands. In fact, the Pearl Clan didn't seem quite privy to written documents just yet.

Shifting around in his desk, Ingo started on the paperwork. If anything could kill any level of arousal, it was documents about one of his employees being punched by a now-banned person.

He was about halfway through the documents when a knock rasped against his door. "Come in!" he called out with his usual loud volume. It wasn;t Emmet, so it was likely an employee with a report of some kind. The door squeaked open, and he did not even bother removing his eyes from the paper that he was scribbling all the required information on. The door was closed behind them, but they did not state what they had come in for.

A few moments passed before Ingo decided to gaze at just who had entered his office. You stood before him wearing a shorter overcoat and some lazier shoes. He cocked a brow. "Dear, is there something wrong?" the older twin questioned. You pulled out one of his chairs and sat down. He watched you with careful eyes as you began to undo your coat's belt, then its buttons. 

When that was done, you shrugged off the tan fabric to reveal… The lacy, black chemise carefully complimenting your skin. Ingo dropped his pen. You fiddled with the bow at the center of the fabric. "I was told I was in trouble… Boss," you brusqued. The Subway Boss let out a shaky breath.

Alright. Enough was enough. Emmet could complain about everything later.

"Is that so?" Ingo asked, standing up and heading towards the door to lock it. "What did you do? I haven't received any report of misconduct."

You nearly grinned. Hook, line, and sinker.

"Well… Apparently my clothes aren't work appropriate," you feigned nervousness.

"Hmm…" the older twin moved back around to sit at his desk, "I'd say. Who told you such revealing fabrics were allowed in my station? Assuredly you were informed of the business-formal dress code." 

"Isn't that a bit too stiff, Mr. Ingo?" you leaned forward to allow him to peek down your attire's narrow obscuring.

His silver eyes took in your skin carefully. Subway Boss Ingo begged for him to just send you home and wait until later, but Warden Ingo knew that time was precious and anything could happen between then and now. Their battle was short-lived. One had muscles while the other was known to skip meals when possible. 

"I believe you are out of line," Ingo spoke with authority, "You need a firm hand to correct your actions, don't you?" 

In his office? Oh, Ingo what had overcome you? You loved it. "I don't know. I think my outfit is fine. At least, you seem to be enjoying it."

"Please, lean over my desk while keeping yourself propped up on your elbows," he commanded. You swallowed Hisui had really done a number on the twin. You did as he ordered and squeaked. He stared into your eyes. 

"You're okay with this, right?" he whispered into your ear while a gentle hand grasped your own. You smiled and nodded. His returned your grin with a smaller, softer one before switching back to a strict, disciplined expression. 

He stood up from his chair and made careful movements around the desk to come and stand behind you. You swallow as gloved hand came to rub over your ass. "I think… You need fifteen for hits for such lewd attire in my workplace, but as for speaking back to me, perhaps… Ten? What do you think?"

"Y-yes, sir! That sounds fair," you whimper.

"Mmm… Keep your voice down, do you want your coworkers to hear you?"

"No, sir…"

"Well, then, you are to count each spank as they come."

His hand continued to massage your cheek for a moment. It was strangely relaxing and put you at an ease. 

So you about screamed when his bare hand came down your ass with a defined smack. He waited for a moment, wondering if you would remember before you squeaked out a 'one'. His eyes were lidded. Another soon followed, and you called out a 'two'. The pattern kept on until he did three in quick succession, "Seven, eight, nine!" Everything was going straight between your thighs as you tried to rub them together, a wetness was gathering on them.

"Bravo!" he called out before going in for another hit. You were crying slightly by fifteen, the sting on your ass a bit too much. 

"Seventeen!" you squeal as his hand comes down harshly with no break in between. He was brutal disciplinarian, it seemed.

"Twenty!" came as you whined from how raw your cheeks felt. Ingo was never the type to actually engage with any of his kinks without prompting so this was much more exciting to happen. Gently, his gloved hand returned to massage and rub at the irritated flesh, while he leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of your neck. 

"Good to go further?" he whispered into your ear again. 

"I'll kill you if you don't," you threatened, which caused him to chuckle. A finger pressed between your folds and dragged itself up and down to gather your wetness. "So wet, darling…" he comments before circling the pad of his finger around your clit. You jolt, pressing yourself more against his desk. He continues his motions for a few moments, then his finger prods at your entrance. He hummed and pushed the appendage into you with another joining it.  

They scissored around inside of your, making sure you were ready for cock. Of course, Ingo felt the urge to tease you as you had him. Work you up until you were just about to come and send you out of his office to wait for him to finish his work day. He would make sure to take on some overtime, to keep you waiting more. He is certain the moment he would walk in the door that you would tackle him and have him fuck you in the entryway.

Your back would be pinned against the front door of the apartment as his cock speared you open. His arms would support your weight as you growled into your ear. Moans would leave your throat raw as he fucked into you.

His fingers curled inside you, abusing a sensitive spot until you were pleading with him for more. As his thumb came to roll your clit around, his movements became rough, and your walls began to grip his fingers desperately. You cried out as you came quickly from all of his ministrations against you. Falling completely against his desk, you attempted to regain your breathing. Ingo burned the sight into his mind. You still looked unfulfilled.

"Enjoying your disciplining… Do you need another, perhaps?" his voice was cool. You turned to gaze it him with curious eyes. "You are much too loud… A gag is needed, I believe."

Oh. You couldn't believe it. He wasn't.

Ingo returned to his desk chair and unbuckled his belt. You licked your lips. He was game. Pushing yourself off the desk, you crept around to kneel before him just as he pulled his leaking, flushed cock from his black slacks. His face was bright red, but his eyes kept a certain calmness that could not go understated. 

You knew what he wanted, the steeliness of his gaze expressed it, too. A careful lick of your tongue to the underside of his cock has him immediately slap a hand over his mouth to stop a loud groan. It spurs you to move further. Your lips come around his cockhead, tasting his bitter precum. He made more noises as you messed your tongue around his glans. Growing ever more confident, you slowly began to take his length into your mouth. You managed to take his entire cock in, the head pressing into your throat. You began to bob your head while his hand dug its way into your hair. 

You kept going, loving all the sounds Ingo made and how he pulled at your hair. The pain a pleasant shift after your orgasmic high. Eventually, the older twin pulls your mouth from his cock. You watched as more beads of precum leaked from the head, and it twitched slightly. 

"Ingo… You were about to come," you whined, really wanting to see him let go. 

"I was…" he huffed, trying to regain his breath. Ingo ran a hand through his hair and knocked off his hat. "I don't want to yet. I only want to come inside of you." You grew a bit flustered by his words. It seemed he was still on his slight baby craze that he had returned with. Apparently, taking care of baby Sneasels makes you desperately want children.

"Hmm… What if I don't want you to?" you teased. The hurt look in his eyes that followed nearly killed the mood, however. Alright, you were now feeling like shit. "Kidding, kidding, I want a baby, too," you reassured.

You flinched as he pushed you against his desk. His length rubbed at your folds amazingly. Bucking your hips against his, you cried as his cockhead caught your clit a few times. You threw your arms around his neck and moaned as it pushed inside. Legs wrapped themselves around his waist while he held himself up by his arms. The navy of his tie laid across your lingerie. 

His thrusts were gentle at first, almost like he was holding himself back from being too close to cumming. You moved your hips in time with his. "Ingooo, faster, please - more!" you whined, pulling him close to your face to kiss. Your tongues met for a passionate dance while his movements became quicker and rougher. He groans into the kiss. You're loving every second of this new Ingo.

He finds that sensitive spot again with ease. You arch your back from the surface under you as your next orgasm builds up. Everything is too much, your previous high, and the vigor with which the Subway Boss takes you. Your ass stings delightfully from its contact with the desk, too. Ingo's groans and growls certainly aren't helping either. He bites his lip and holds back an especially loud one, which causes you to nearly roll your eyes back. 

A particularly rough thrust sends you over the threshold, coming down hard and brushing his cock against your clit. His hand covers your mouth as you let out a loud cry alongside your orgasm. He fucks you through it, eyes lidded and mouth babbling random praises. 

"You're taking me so well, my dear - too tight, darling!"

"Please, please, please, you're too much!"

"Damn it - I want to see you swollen with my child!"

You bring him down for a kiss once again as his cock begins to twitch. A few more ruts lead to him spilling inside of you, heat blossoming deep within. His body lies on top of yours, panting heavily as he comes down from his pleasure-filled high. You both just lie on his desk for a few moments. Sharp inhales and exhales are the only ambience of the room. Your hand runs through his soft hair, cut short again after the lovely length he obtained from his time away. He is heavier, too. The muscles of his body were not so light. A vague hint of a scar barely noticeable from the collar of his work shirt.

He removes himself from you as he grabs some tisses from a nearby filing cabinent. Carefully, he cleans you up. Ingo's eyes watch as his spend drips out of you. Such a waste. He tuts his tongue. Nothing he can do now, however. You cleaned up to a decent state, before he finally wipes off his cock from you combined fluids, praying none had gotten onto his slacks.

"You've been pent up, too," you noted as you pushed yourself off of his desk. Your overcoat was slipped back on, in case of the return of a certain twin brother.

"Yes… It seems I have," Ingo admits, zipping up his fly and buttoning his slacks, "I do apologise if anything was too much. I have no idea what has become of my self-control."

You laugh as you help him buckle his belt. A chaste kiss is placed on his cheek before you pull him into a tight hug. He returns the affection with the same strength. "You did everything 'right on track', Ingo," you whisper into his ear, "I love you."

"I love you, too, my dearest," he responds, a soft blush on his cheeks. Soon, you depart from the station with a promise of a hearty meal for dinner. Ingo finally continues his paperwork, his mind much more focused than before.

Emmet enters the office about ten minutes later with sigh. He sits down at his desk and rests his head on his hand while glaring at Ingo. The older turns to gaze at the older.

"Oh, so when I fuck in public it's 'not becoming of a Subway Boss' and a 'lack of public decency', but when you do it's fine? Aright, Ingo." Ingo chokes on his spit.

[thenanbakacorner]

Hi! How are you doing? Can I please get some hcs for a female reader who is secretly dating Inori, but is also Damon's sister and he finds out? Thank you, and if you don't want to, you don't have to!

Im doing well, hopefully you are too! Thanks for asking!! Time for some of our favorite lazy boar! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

* * *

🐎 Inori Secretly Dating Samon’s Sister!Reader Headcanons 🐎

Inori had been watching you for some time before the two of you started dating

You worked as a guard in Building 5 with your brother, and so, you and Inori passed each other often

He'd flirt with you any time he saw you, and eventually, it paid off as you started dating

However, you kept it secret from Samon

Knowing how Samon is constantly annoyed with Inori's laziness and tendancy to become distracted from his work, the two of you figured he wouldn't take the relationship well

It doesn't stop him from flirting with you though. No, he still does it

Samon already knew about the flirts anyway (Although he tried and failed to discourage said behavior), so that wouldn't be a concern

For the first few months, Samon's clueless

You and Inori only see each other during lunch break, but eventually get bolder and visit each other more frequently

Samon starts getting suspicious when you start disappearing from your work zones, and finds you slacking and chatting with Inori

He starts watching you more closely, trying to figure out the cause of your change in behavior

On month 4, Samon finally catches you and Inori kissing

"What the fuck's going on here?!"

Panicked boar is panicked

Pulls as many excuses as he can think of but yall're busted

Much to your surprise, instead of ordering you and Inori to cease the relationship, he narrows his eyes menacingly at Inori and says;

"You better take damn good care of my sister, Inori, or you're gonna get it."

As long as the two of you don't slack off so much, let alone together when you're supposed to be working, he doesn't have a problem with it.

As long as he makes you happy.

[sanderchu]

I’ve always had a things for casino au (or las Nevadas) you know how cool that stuff is, I’m young but I play card games with my family and it’s so much fun

I think I’m into that stuff bc of the thrill I watched movies shows and even read books about it and it’s always so entertaining even if it’s not in front you you and you have to visualize it

Anyways Bc im on that topic here are some jobs I think dsmp members would have if they worked/and little hcs, at a casino 🎲 (this doesn’t connect with las Nevadas it’s just an au I designed to my liking and my opinion) also this is just a tired thing so yeah be nice-

Dream 💚(bartender)

I see him as a bartender type of person. It just fits and he can probably do those cool tricks when mixing drinks. Probably also gambles with ppl as they drink just to put some fun in his job. A big show off in general

George 🦋(cleaner)

I see him as that worker that got the job because of someone else, in that case it’s dream. He just walks around really until things close. So he can at least get paid he cleans after hours or during when ppl get to sick from drinking. Hates it but it’s pretty alright. Not the gambling type but will do a slot machine for fun once in a while

Sapnap 🐼(bodyguard)

I see him as Like the “bodyguard” of the place like an extra set of protection on the inside of the place. Likes to see fights and takes videos before breaking them up. His job makes him feel strong. Him and dream play cards after hours for fun.

Karl 🌀(waiter)

One of the waiters of the place. I can see him as a server. He really likes his job because he can slack off here and there then just say it’s because the food was taking to long. Not the gambling type either but him and sapnap play simple card games together on break. (Sometimes since karl isnt the gambling type sapnap Carries a pack of uno around)

Quackity 🐤(manager)

The manager of the place. He’s like the side boss of it all. Always gambling and watching over the place. Last to leave work to make sure of everything. (Charlie stays with him sometimes so he doesn’t have to be alone). Prevents things from happening between workers (mainly tommy and dream and you’ll see why)

Ranboo 👑(waiter)

I see him as another waiter. He just doesn’t give me the gambling vibe. Tommy dragged him to work there so he wouldn’t get bored. He knows how to gamble he just doesn’t want to. Everyone that goes there sees him as a simple nerdy waiter.

Tubbo 🐝(cleaner)

I see him as a cleaner too. Nothing special it just gives him an excuse to get things done on his computer and then clean. Him and George actually make good small talk because of that. They have the most tea on the guest and share it around.

Tommy ♥️(bartender)

I see him as Like a noobie bartender. Dream definitely makes fun of him and always teases him for no reason. Tommy is not bad at Making drinks it’s more of the tricks. Wilbur actually got him to work there with him. Tommy is sorta the gambling type as long as his brother is with him if anything(aka Wilbur helps him cheat)

Wilbur ☕️(card dealer)

One of the biggest cheaters. He host all the card games. If people challenge him he cheats for sure to make them regret it and always have some crazy bet attached. He stays after since I feel like tommy stays after too bc of tubbo to talk and he knows tommy will need a ride home.

Niki 🌸(Slot watcher)

I feel like she watches over the slot machines. She really enjoys her job and finds it really fun. She finds it funny when people loose hundreds on a simple machine. Always motivating people. Jack is like her protector.

Jack 🔴🔵(slot watcher)

Nikis protector basically. Seen more around the bar talking to Tommy(mainly talking shit lol) talks to everyone at least once through out the day. Him and Wilbur gamble in there free time always challenging each other. Brings food for niki and water for her. Basically his whole backpack if filled with essentials for everyone and they can just go to the back and grab anything.

Fundy 🦊 (cleaner)

You gotta admit this place has to be big so ofc we have another cleaner. I see him as a pretty fast cleaner finishing before anyone else. To make it easier for him and everyone I see him making List of what each person should do so they don’t repeat it. Mainly listening to music or just enjoying the background noise of gnf and tubbo gossiping.

Purple 💜 (pool worker)

I see him working for the pool tables. Probably challenging solo players all the time and makes it obvious he’s talking shit and making fun. Enjoys seeing the drunks loose it amuses him a bunch seeing people angry but drunk make it better. Finds his job boring overall and is kinda jealous of quackity. Plays pool after hours alone.

Punz 🤍(bodyguard)

I can see him and sapnap teaming up to be the inside bodyguards. More like an aggressive bodyguard. He’s mainly around dream who makes him little shots so he doesn’t get to wasted during the job but enough to just give him a boost.

Techno 🐷 (Card dealer)

With Wilbur, there both card dealers. Techno scams people of there money as Wilbur cheats. Techno is Seen around the card area or talking to Tommy. Tommy makes him drinks here and there. Always talking shit to people when they loose. Very quiet just enjoying his job but he doesn’t admit that. Ever.

Foolish 🦈 (back up)

I See foolish to be used for more like events or like parties. He mainly makes sure every item is in tack and counts the money and stuff. His job is pretty easy and has his own office where he can work and do papers. Very chill job for a very chill guy.

Charlie/Slime 🟢(assistant)

I see him as Like the boss and the managers assistant. He’s pretty clueless so that’s the best job for him. Quackity just walks around and talks to him as Charlie takes down notes when he never needs to. Always asking questions like he’s new no matter how long he’s been working there. Quackity enjoys his company and help, it helps him relax after a long day just talking to someone so innocent and sweet after dealing with assholes.

Phil/mumza 💚💜

The owners. You can’t change my mind on this and there sons are like their watcher reposting back to them after a long day. That’s why each work at least in almost every section. Mumza is Seen around when Phil is in the office. Mumza is More used to welcome people and give people there money after winning. Always so happy doing her job. Phil is her protector Making sure no one takes advantage of that. The parents of the casino

————————————

This is definitely not my way of asking for casino au request- (50/50, I’m just sayingggg) please give me request of casino au- I will marry u-

[kaeyachi]

I know it's kaeya time rn + not being specific bcuase idk how you feel about leaks, but so far word has it Kaveh looks like he'll be having a pretty good n neat kit :>

thank you for the ask!

and yes it may be kaeya time, but i am open to having a kaveh moment as well!!

and i saw!! im so excited for him! his kit combined with his idle leaks got me screaming internally for the past couple of hours! (i ended up with 4 hours of sleep because of how excited i got from both kaeya and kaveh)

I hope his constellations use architectural terms but that might just be me asking for too much lmao

im got so distracted with the kaeya lore drop and kaveh leaks (and the tighnari tcg card!! FINALLY) that i nearly forgot to go to work today!! (aaaand im currently slacking off right now but hush. i get paid by the hour)

im being fed too well by hyv lately, im genuinely just a happy player right now with how good 3.5 is and 3.6 will be

[thoughtsbeewild]

Karma to evil employees still employed at the company. getting away with shit, while head employer hiring team stupid to continue to pay them

Why this company still has these employees employed?

Sydney, Jamie, Sawnya, Quanika(directors best friend whole world, spends most of time during her PAID work hours on face book posting hyprocritical sinner shit like she love god, her family , her kids while GETTING PAID BY THE HOUR FROM THE COMPANY WHO PAYING HER TO SLACK BUT BE HORNY FOR LIKES ON FACEBOOK TO HER 1/6 K FOLLOWERS.

Do you think Director BESt FRiend Quanika deserves a paycheck? When thier others Talented HARD WORKING human individuals out there who are just got laid off from companies looking for a job to find thier american dream? Do you think Quanika as described is one of them? this company paying her PER HOUR 8 HRS TO BE ON FACEBOOK? HOW IS THAT MAKING COMPANY SUCCESSFUL? Wouldnt companies, businesses, small business hire employees they want to be there?

Lets take Sydney, whats her background. Fake ass mom with 2 dogs who was HIRED ON by THE SUPERVISOR, SHE IS A FAMILY FRIEND TO THE SUPERVISOR. THATS COLLISION, YOU DONT REALLY HAVE SKILLS, YOU GOT BROUGHT ON BOARD WITH COMPANY THE FIRED SUPERVISOR HIRED YOU. BECAUSE YOU WERE SO JEALOUS OF TENURE PEOPLE WHO WORKED THIER ASS YEARS AND YEARS THIER, YOU ATTEMPTED TO TRY STEAL THIER JOB BY COPYING THIER WORK, PASSING ON AS YOURS. THEN YOUR GREED LEAD TO JEALOUS, YOUR PATHETHIC NEED TO PARTNER UP WITH THE SUPERVISOR YOUR FAMILY IN ORDER GET ME FIRED SAYING MADE UP LIES ABOUT ME AND BRINGING THAT HUMAN RESOURCES LIKE IT TRUE. NOW THAT IM LIKE FUCK YOU NOW, WHAT KIND OF PERSON FUCKING DOES THAT? EVIL BITCH. HEY BITCH I WORKED MY ASS OFF SWEAT BLOOD AND TEARS, YOUR ASS JUST GET HIRED, YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY JUST COPY MY WORK TO PASS IT ON YOUR OWN TO GET PROMOTED, THEN PARTNER UP EVIL SUPERVISOR TO MAKE UP LIES AS IF I AM THE BAD PERSON, THATS WHY YOUR PIECE OF SHIT PERSON. WHO DOES THAT? APPARENTLY YOU NEVER THINK IN YOUR LIFE YOU ENCOUNTER SHIT LIKE THIS OR A LOOK SO SO KIND SO NICE INNOCENT POSER. I NEVER THOUGHT IN MY TIME ON EARTH, PEOPLE LIKE THIS EXIST. THEY DO, THEY ARE JUST IN HUMAN DISGUISE. KARMA IS COMING YOUR WAY..

I CAN GO ON. BUT LETS START HERE KARMA...WE CANT LET THIS WORLD LET PEOPLE GET AWAY WITH SHIT WITH PRESENTING IM SO KIND, I CAN SPEAK SO KIND, I CAN PREACH LOVABLE BULLSHIT OF KINDNESS. IN THE MOVIES, YOU NEVER THINK THEY ARE THE BAD GUY, WHEN THE PLOT TWIST THEY REALLY ARE.

THE WORLD NEEDS TO KNOW PEOPLE LIKE THIS EXIST, you will find it at your job, at school, at events, thier everywhere. Just becareful who you trust is what I learned from this experience.

[itsnemusan]

kitsune headcanons except im his mod and also because race did it for his blorbo lers

- works as a part time shrine maiden but will probably try slacking off when he can

- when he shapeshifts into a regular human his shillouette will still have ears and a tail and his teeth will be a little sharper than normal human teeth

- cant drive

- when no ones looking, he eats and drinks the offerings left at the shrines (technically theyre for him so..)

- his real name is fujiwara kuro (kuro is given name and fujiwara is surname) which were specifically chosen because kuro means black (as hes the only black fox in his family) and fujiwara is an old fashioned surname

- i dont know if any of you who arent my mutuals have picked up on this yet but kitsune isnt stupid he just does stupid things knowing that they are because he thinks it'll be fun

- he actually does have 9 tails im just too lazy and just draw 1 really fluffy one

- i may or may not give him actual lore and make it so that the reason hes a jerk to most people is because he knows he'll outlive them and thinks if no one likes him no one can even be close to being his friend (but sometimes he just hates actually people)

- has fire powers but im actually thinking of giving him thunder powers as well

- his real (kitsune) form is around the size of an average bloodhound

- used to be very serious and actually acted like how you think a several hundred year old deity would act

now hes just a little shit

- could clap an entire army if he wanted to but chooses to be a silly little fella

- lives in a standard japanese apartment, the mans paid like 80 dollars per day ok (i know its part time and he could really just get another job but shut up)

[favoniuscodex]

cat's cradle of love [ kaeya x reader ]

prompt: diona is sick and tired of kaeya whining about how much he's in love with some person he keeps talking about rather than actually doing anything. so, she does what she does best. she makes him a special drink to help: a love potion. pairing: kaeya x gn!reader word count: ~3.3k words warnings: love potion, alcohol mentions/consumption (not reader), intoxication (not reader), friends to lovers a/n: partner fic to my diluc love potion fic found here! haha im actually lowkey really proud of this fic! i hope you all enjoy it! <3

diona doesn't get paid enough for this.

dealing with a bunch of drunkards all day? god, she hates that dumb alcohol industry and its ever prevailing grip over mondstadt. she hates that she can't make a single bad drink. she hates a lot of things, but what she hates most (or rather, who) is diluc ragnvindr. but tonight, that is not the ragnvindr she is focused on. instead, she's focused on kaeya alberich, who once labeled himself as kaeya ragnvindr in a time long before one diona can remember.

sure, the cavalry captain isn't that bad. he fights off the other drunkards who try to pet her between the ears and he's not too belligerent after drinking too much, but he's still a part of the problem. if kaeya is at cat's tail enough for her to recognize his face, he drinks too much -- and the bartender is all-too-familiar with exactly what the cavalry captain looks like.

"roger," kaeya whines, petting the cat that rests on the counter before him. tonight, much like the past week, kaeya sits at the bar alone. his elbow is folded inwards and rests on the countertop and kaeya has his face shoved into it, while his other arm is stretched out to pet the cat that lazily sprawls out in front of him. it's a pathetic sight, but for some reason, kaeya has become what diona loathes most this past week -- a crying drunk.

for a grown man, all he does is cry. it's over unimportant things too and diona is sick of it. not only does it annoy her, kaeya has also been dragging her coworkers into it, especially roger. sure, roger is a cat and probably doesn't care that kaeya is crying, but diona knows that he deserves better, even if he's kind of awful to work with.

"roger, how-" kaeya begins before hiccupping. diona watches the abrupt rise and fall of his back before quickly glancing away as kaeya lifts his head to stare at the cat in front of it. "how many petals do i have to pick before i find out if they love me or if they love me not?"

diona nearly breaks the glass she's holding in her sudden anger. kaeya, the dumb cavalry captain of the idiotic knights of favonius has been crying in her bar for the past week because of some dumb crush? she has to stifle a scream of frustration and anger and instead gets her rage out through firmly polishing the glass in front of her. gods. gods, she hates this dumb job and she hates alcohol.

both the ragnvindr brothers are stupid, diona thinks. but maybe i can put an end to this one's annoying, dumb nature.

---

"hey, sweetheart," kaeya croons, draping himself obnoxiously across your desk. you look up at him with your best unamused expression, but the twitching of the corners of your lips as they threaten to pull upwards into a smile reveals your relief to see your coworker-turned-friend. sure, the job sucked sometimes and you felt no better than a glorified secretary, but since varka took all of the horses with him on the expedition, you at least knew that kaeya was sharing in your misery of having nothing to do in the knights of favonius headquarters besides filling out incessant paperwork.

"hey," you greet, leaning back in your chair and folding your arms over your chest. with kaeya practically leaning on top of your work, you couldn't access the pen and quill without telling him to move. how tragic. at least you could slack off since jean isn't here. "what's up?"

"nothing much, i just don't want to work," kaeya confesses and you let out a soft laugh. look at the two of you: you should be two of mondstadt's finest, but here you are, slacking off. jean and lisa would probably be chewing the two of you out for your lack of work ethic, but it is hard to find the willingness to be a good captain of the knights of favonius when grand master varka took everything the two of you presided over on his expedition with him. cavalry captain kaeya has no cavalry and you, the artillery captain, have no artillery.

the two of you were paperwork captains now and, despite the pay, the job still sucks.

"me either," you agree and kaeya's azure eye glints with amusement in the sunlight.

"so, what's someone like you doing on their lunch break?" kaeya asks, gaze moving from you to the desk as he begins to fiddle with your desk decorations. his words are flirtatious, but they scarcely affect you anymore. when kaeya and you had first become friends, you had been left a flustered, stammering mess, until you realized he was just naturally flirty in a friendly way. now, you were more than used to his words and manner of speaking, so you barely bat an eye at his question.

"oh? i'm just catching lunch with albedo again. not sure why he's so interested in talking to me compared to everyone else, but he's good company so i don't mind," you say, not noticing the way kaeya's jaw clenches as the mention of the blonde. pretty little albedo already held the hearts of half the knights of favonius but, surprisingly, he doesn't hold yours yet.

you and albedo are just friends, having formed a relationship after you had helped him with a research experiment that needed an extra set of hands. albedo appreciated the way you viewed him as more than just another pretty face and the way you didn't worship the ground he walked on for his alchemic discoveries. meanwhile, you found friendship with him due to his calm nature and inquisitive manner of speaking. it is an easy friendship, but that's all it is -- friendship. kaeya, however, doesn't know this.

so, in your obliviousness, kaeya is left to stew in envy over having his typical lunch plans with you being ruined so you could eat with albedo. sure, he could easily invite himself along as the two of you were good enough friends, but kaeya wasn't a jerk. if you and albedo wanted to spend time together in albedo's dumb little laboratory together, he wouldn't intrude. besides, it's not like you had promised to eat lunch with kaeya. typically, it just... happened.

so why did kaeya feel so scorned that you were spending your lunch break with someone else? you ate lunch with eula sometimes and amber at other times, so why was albedo bothering him? kaeya mentally punches himself for being dumb. he knows the answer as to why he feels this way, but he typically only dwells on the feeling when under the influence of alcohol. he doesn't like being vulnerable, especially not when it comes to someone as kind, strong, lovely, and amazing as y-

"kaeya?" you ask, waving a hand in front of the cavalry captain's face. "you're spacing out on me already?"

your words are teasing, but kaeya has to bite back the urge to hastily refute them. it's just a lighthearted jest, yet kaeya wants nothing more than to tell you that you could never bore him. you occupy his thoughts far more than you should and it's becoming problematic. sure, it's better than the typically negative thoughts of khaenri'ah and his past that usually threaten to consume him on cold, lonely nights, yet this feels like a much more tangible issue. khaenri'ah is something he can simply continue to push down the line, while you..? you're at risk of falling through his fingers while he can do nothing but watch. rather than tell you exactly how much he adores you or any dramatic love confession, kaeya simply smirks at you, mimicking your teasing expression.

"you and albedo, huh?" he croons, laughing as you playfully swat his arm in faux-anger. kaeya relishes in the huff of annoyance you let out and thrives in the smile in your voice as you deny his obvious implications.

"it's not like that, genius," you insist, but you can tell by kaeya's shit-eating grin that he's not having any of it. "we're just friends! coworkers, even! don't make it weird, you weirdo."

"i'm the weirdo?" kaeya shoots back, words filled with disbelief. "you're the one going on a cute little lunch date in the cramped little laboratory downstairs."

you shake your head, but amusement shines in your eyes. "you're insufferable."

"you love me," kaeya insists. if you knew better, you would know that he is trying to convince himself, but you don't and it pains the cavalry captain to no end. instead, you smile in your typical brilliant fashion, the smile that sets kaeya's heart ablaze in a way only pyro energy can rival.

"yeah, yeah," you agree dismissively with a wave of your hand through the air. "whatever. now get off my desk, otherwise i'm tattling on you to jean when she asks why i don't have these dumb tax forms done."

kaeya gasps, wounded by your suggested betrayal. "you wouldn't."

"i would," you say, sticking out your tongue at him. "now move, sweetheart."

---

grumblings of dissatisfaction begin when the cat's tail has a different bartender over the lunch hour, but diona figures that margaret won't be too mad at her for taking a break at this time. after all, people who drank in bars at noon are the types of drunks diona hates most. she hates them almost as much as she hates the ragnvindrs. almost. nobody could quite come close to diluc or kaeya.

but, if her plan went well, maybe kaeya alberich wouldn't be so low on her list after all. she sets off with her bartending kit and a determined aura. hell hath no fury like a diona scorned and, if she can't take down diluc ragnvindr and the wine industry, diona can sure as hell take out his brother. she can at least send a message... at least, that's what she hopes.

besides, diona already has a super secret spy giving her intel on the alcohol industry straight from the knights of favonius hq. sure, it's not the most reliable source, but it's better than nothing. after all, the spark knight is still a knight, which means her intel has to be worth something, right? diona is a strategist, which means she redirected her internal source to focus on something else today: kaeya.

take down kaeya alberich, you take down part of the ragnvindrs. easy as pie.

"hi diona!" a cheerful voice calls out as diona makes her way into the sprawling halls of the knights of favonius hq.

"hi klee. do you have my intel as requested?" diona says, standing up straight. being forward is the best strategy, diona determines.

"yup! mister kaeya's eating lunch in his office on the second floor. the door has his name on it!" klee begins and diona nods in approval before turning to leave. "wait, diona! did you want to play later?"

"of course, but um... no bombs, please." diona responds and klee nods and waves before running off once more. diona smiles to herself as she watches her friend run off before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. right. she was on a mission. diona storms down the hallway, ignoring the peculiar looks from the guards as she walks up the steps to the second floor.

with the passion of someone far older than her, diona firmly knocks on the door labeled "cavalry captain's office". a familiar voice tells her to come in from the other side of the door and, with a deep breath, diona swings open the door to view the cavalry captain. this is their first time meeting without the stench of alcohol upon his breath, but kaeya recognizes her nonetheless. her head barely makes it above his desk, yet diona hopes she still looks intimidating.

"can i help y-" kaeya begins, but diona cuts him off with a loud hmph.

"no funny business, cavalry captain!" diona begins, glaring at him. slowly, kaeya sets the half-eaten sandwich in his hands down before leaning back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. he looks on in amusement and diona feels indignance rise within her. the dumb drunkard thinks this is funny?!

"i'm here," diona begins with a roll of her eyes. "to help you with your stupid little problem."

"... which is?" kaeya begins, a smile creeping onto his face at diona's irate tone.

"you're in love with someone and you won't tell them! all you do is cry at my stupid bar every night about it and i'm sick of it!" diona accuses and the smile on kaeya's face drops as he sits up straight in a panic.

"if we are going to discuss this," kaeya begins, voice cool despite his sudden loss of composure. "close the door behind you."

diona swings the door shut behind her and traipses over to the chairs in front of kaeya's desk. she scrambles up onto the seat, staring at the cavalry captain as her legs dangle off the edge of the chair, not quite reaching the ground. aha, he's flustered! she thinks victoriously, ears twitching with delight as kaeya stares her down.

"how exactly are you going to 'help me'?" kaeya asks, placing air quotes around his final two words.

"i am going to make you a drink!" diona huffs. "i've been experimenting with different drinks trying to make the worst one, but i can probably make something that will solve your problems too."

kaeya stares at the bartender. "i appreciate the gesture, but i cannot possibly drink on the job." he appears on edge, but diona doesn't quite care. she's here to fix his stupid problem whether he likes it or not.

diona furrows her brow, glaring at him. "jeez, you boozehound. i never said it was alcoholic!"

"a non-alcoholic drink?" kaeya muses, pondering over the idea. "hm. sure, i don't see why not."

kaeya is no fool. love potions are concoctions that only exist in the pages of fantasy novels or buried deep within the abscesses of albedo's lab, but in order to even begin finding one, he'd have to actually speak to the alchemist. sure, they were friendly coworkers, but ever since albedo had gotten so friendly with you, albedo was (secretly) public enemy number one in kaeya's book.

kaeya isn't the jealous type. at least, that's what he tries to tell himself. but, when kaeya decides that he'd rather trek through the entirety of mare jivari than ask albedo for assistance with wooing you, there's little else to call his bitter actions than declaring them to be pure jealousy. but hey, kaeya isn't going to act on anything. he wants to scream from the rooftops how much he likes you, but kaeya isn't quite sure that you would like that.

so, he sits back and lets diona play pretend, watching as she crafts a pink, shimmering beverage with the materials on hand. she finally reaches over his desk to slide the glass towards him, another indignant huff escaping her.

"i'm adding that to your tab, drunkard!" diona declares, but before kaeya can protest, she has her back turned to him, walking out of the room with her head held high.

kaeya watches the pink liquid swirl in the glass before him. sure, love potions weren't real, but the drink looked tasty and smelled rather delicious.

what could go wrong? kaeya asks himself as he lifts the beverage to his lips and takes a swig of it.

---

kaeya appears in your office as you're packing up for the day, sliding files into your briefcase to take home. the paperwork was incessant and it appeared as if you were even going to have to work through the weekend. for the country of freedom, they sure liked to tie you down with paperwork.

"hey, sweetheart," kaeya greets, but his typically playful tone is a bit more serious. you look up from your files, pausing your packing as you tilt your head at him.

"what's up?" you say cautiously and kaeya looks down at your briefcase before glancing back up at you. he's acting off and you realize when you see the way his hands are shaking that he's... nervous. you've never seen kaeya alberich nervous, despite all the years you've been friends. it makes a pit of worry settle in your stomach, but kaeya is clearing his throat before you can dwell on the feeling too much.

"you're my favorite person i've ever met. when i'm with you, life is... simple. i can be myself and you don't expect anything more of me," kaeya begins and you stand up straight, eyeing him cautiously. such a declaration is... bold, but you're not quite sure why he's saying it. sure, his words are touching, but you can't help but be... confused. so, rather than interrupting, you choose to let him continue.

"i can't get the way you say my name out of my head and thoughts of your smile illuminate my daydreams. my heart beats fast whenever we're together and you make me feel like a lovestruck teenager again and i never thought i would get a chance to feel that again, but you never fail to amaze me or to prove me wrong," kaeya walks closer to you, now standing before you.

sure, kaeya alberich hasn't made you flustered in years, but old habits die hard as you feel heat rising to your cheeks at his earnest, honest words. his hands still shake before you, so rather than cutting his little speech off, you take his hands in your own and smile at him encouragingly and nod. kaeya gives your hands a gentle squeeze.

sure, it might be the liquid courage coursing through his veins that motivates him, but it isn't liquid courage in the form of alcohol. no, it's pure, unadulterated love, and in this moment, as kaeya squeezes your hands back, he wonders how the hell diona figured that recipe out, but she's going to get half his paycheck for getting you to look at him with such a soft, awed expression.

"i think i'm in love with you," kaeya confesses, almost breathlessly. his revealed eye is wide and shines with nervousness, yet his expression relaxes as a wide grin breaks over his face as you clutch his hands just a bit tighter. but, before kaeya can relish in the contact, you're letting his partially clothed hands go and instead moving in to cup his face. kaeya freezes under your touch, brain short-circuiting as his hands hover over your hips. he wishes to brace you as you lean in closer to him, but he doesn't want to overstep any boundares.

yet, as you place a chaste kiss on his lips, kaeya finally lets his hands settle on you, holding you close to reassure himself that finally, finally you aren't slipping through his fingers. you're right before him and, even as his eyes flutter closed, you're still there, pressing your soft lips against his own. sure, diona's love potion was sweet, but kaeya is certain that he'll never taste anything sweeter than the taste of your chapstick and smooth lips pressed against his own. when you finally part, kaeya mourns the lost kiss, yet your grin soothes the wound before it can become irritated.

"i think i'm in love with you too," you affirm and kaeya lets out a soft breath of relief, as if your kiss hadn't solidified that fact. "sweetheart."

[thetriggeredhappy]

in the dadspy au, what if jeremy was just going to be an assistant/cook/janitor at the base while his dad was being the mercenary (since spy didnt want him to follow the "career" but didnt want to be separated from him), but then jeremy turned out to be even better than the hired scout so they promote him to that position and spy is not happy with this at all

ok i was gonna put this in the queue to post but im impatient because im happy with this one. only thing i didnt have was spy being upset by this development

(warnings for canon-typical violence, discussion of mercenary-type things, paranoia, alcohol, and exactly one proper fight scene. consider this pg-13)

-

“Would you prefer the good news first, or the bad news?” Dad asked.

Jeremy looked up at him from where he’d snatched up the sunday comics from his dad’s newspaper and was doodling little hats on the characters while they waited for their food to arrive. “Uh,” he said, “good news first.”

“Alright. The good news is, do you remember that line I’ve been tailing? The one in New Mexico?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, then nodded a little more confidently. “Immunity, safehouse, somethin’ like that, right?”

“...Something like that,” Dad agreed carefully, and that made him raise an eyebrow. “It went well, and I think there’s the very real possibility that I’ve all but closed the deal, all they want now is an interview.”

“...Interview, singular,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That’s where the bad news begins. Unfortunately... merde, how to phrase this?” He drew a hand down his face. “They’re fully willing to hire me on, but this is a more... corporate affair than I’m used to. They have rules, stipulations. Long story short, they will not hire you as a mercenary on the basis of your age.”

Jeremy tensed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s stupid, I’m old enough to drive and buy guns and whatever the hell else.”

“But not rent a car, at least in many places in the United States.”

“But—“ he started, and remembered they were in public, and lowered his voice to a hiss, leaning in. “We’re hired killers, thieves, criminals. Do they really think we’re above having fakes? False documentation?”

“Actually, that is one of their requirements,” Dad said dryly, taking a paper from his jacket and consulting it. “I’m not happy about it either, mon lapin, but those are their rules. Already they have slightly bent them for one individual, and already I am on thin ice. But I may have a way to manage this.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked, nervous now.

“I know the woman responsible for new hires and managing the team I’ve applied for. She owes me a favor—a fairly hefty one. When I go in for the interview, one of my demands will include you being hired on, not as a mercenary, but for... for custodial purposes, something like that. Cook, janitor, security guard, secretary—whatever job there is that needs doing there, and I am sure that there will be one. Something to allow you to live there. Pay will likely be her stipulation, and the play I hope to make is that really, you’re overqualified for the position and she’s lucky to have someone so competent available, and in the worst case scenario, the pay is still good enough even for just one of us that we will not cut too deeply into the savings.”

The savings. That made Scout blink, because they only ever brought up the savings when—

“You think this could be it?” he asked quietly. “Like, it it?”

A hard exhale, and he leaned his cheek on his hand. “Potentially,” he finally said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the job promises a variety of things. Medical attention available, extremely low levels of danger, and most of all, confidentiality. The only people who will know any name we give them would be the woman in charge of hiring us and their singular medical professional. There is no mode of communication to or from the compound outside of emergency lines to the organization and a single secure payphone located two miles away, there is no civilization within a twenty-five minute drive minimum, and this operation has been going long enough that the local authorities have long since grown used to being paid off, and likely don’t even remember what for anymore. I cash in a few valuable favors and ask this employer to turn a blind eye, we’d have somewhere remote and secure to spend our time after our deaths are faked and once the contract is over, we can start over. No ties to the past.”

“Freedom,” Jeremy marveled.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the quiet chatter of the rest of the diner. “I want to warn you, this work may not be glamorous. It may not even be particularly easy. I’m giving you the option of saying no,” Dad said.

“What?! Yes, hell yes, are you joking? To get us to living like normal people? Steady work? Livin’ in one place? Count me in!” he laughed.

“What if the job is something you won’t enjoy? Long hours, boring work?” Dad asked, entirely serious.

“I’m still on board.”

“What if the other people working there are rude to you? Disrespectful?”

“Well most of the people I meet through our job now try to kill us, so really it’s an upgrade.”

“What if there’s no diner nearby?” he asked, and there was a glint of humor in his eye.

“Damn, sorry, that’s the dealbreaker,” he joked right back, and that made him snort, shake his head, greet the waitress as she came back with their coffee and soda and then informed them that their food would be out shortly.

“I’ll ask,” was what Dad said once she was gone again, and that was that, and they started driving to New Mexico two nights later.

-

“—A warm welcome to our two newest recruits. This is the Spy, and this is the Guard.”

“Guard?” asked one of the men at the table, his accent thick and distinctly Russian. It made Jeremy tense slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

“Night Guard,” Jeremy answered, voice clipped.

“He’s not technically hired on as a mercenary like you all, he won’t be joining you on missions,” the short woman apparently named Miss Pauling (Jeremy was fairly sure it was a fake name) said, hands folded in front of her neatly. “He’s here to work security. Keep an eye out during the night, filter through the camera footage, handle the archiving, things like that.”

“We’re hiring on a civvie now?” asked another man, thick Scottish accent a little harder to digest than the eyepatch and the grenade he was in the process of fiddling with the internal mechanisms of.

“He’s combat ready, and will still be armed. His job is to essentially make sure you’re all safe enough to sleep through the night,” Miss Pauling said.

“I’m not some chump,” Jeremy agreed. “I know my stuff.”

“How old is he?” another man asked, this one in a hardhat with a heavy drawl, looking concerned.

“Twenty, for your information,” Jeremy said, a little sharply, eyes narrowed.

“If you have any other questions, there’ll be time later on. For now, I do need to show our two newest recruits where they’ll be staying,” Miss Pauling cut in.

There was an audible scoff from one of the men at the table, a dramatic rolling of eyes. Jeremy glared at him. He unfolded and refolded his extremely tattoo’d tree-trunk-like arms, tugging the visor of his hat between. “Sorry,” he said, accent thick and distinctly Californian. “I just don’t have the most trust for some scrawny kid in slacks and creep in a ski mask.”

“Scout, don’t start,” Miss Pauling warned.

“Just saying,” this man, apparently called Scout, muttered under his breath regardless.

“Don’t,” she said again, more firmly, and ignored the second eye roll she got for the trouble. “If you two would follow me.”

And they were shown around the base, and Jeremy in particular was shown into a room stuck behind three locked doors, where he found camera feeds and recording equipment. She gave him a basic overview and a thick packet of instructions and policies labelled ‘highly classified’ and a phone number to call if he had any further questions, and a set of hours that were apparently meant to become the new standard for him (with the quiet addendum that if he finished early that was alright, and that technically he could turn in early if two or more members of the team were already awake for the day and he was caught up on the archiving of old tapes).

Then he was left to “get used to the equipment”, which he assumed meant his dad was getting a similar rundown of his job, and it took a pretty quick glance through the packet to understand that clearly this place ran on an extremely secretive and closely monitored series of systems. In the packet, between the sections on camera maintenance and operation hours, were a few sheets detailing what were apparently the movement patterns of the various members of the team, including frequented locations and previously recorded large-scale infractions (mostly on the part of the Soldier, the Medic, the Scout, and one from the Demoman).

He wasn’t the one with the title Spy, but fuck, it seemed like he might as well have it. His entire job wasn’t even necessarily to keep the team safe overnight—he was just meant to watch all of them to make sure nobody was anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary.

The next time he saw his dad, waiting outside the infirmary to get some sort of physical evaluation, his face was arranged carefully enough that he could tell he’d figured out something was up, too.

“Got your job assignments?” he asked quietly in French, glancing towards the door into the infirmary.

A nod, a glance. “I’m intrigued by the methods used in employee evaluation,” he deadpanned. “Especially the fact that apparently, they’re willing to assign employees for the explicit task of doing them.”

“How often?”

“Weekly.”

“Thorough,” Jeremy deadpanned, and glanced towards the hall at the distant sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere else on the base. “That’s basically mine too.”

There was a long silence, and when Jeremy looked back over, his dad was giving him an almost expectant look, waiting. All he had to offer him was a shrug, which was returned after a moment with a vague shake of the head. “I don’t believe it will be a problem,” his dad said simply. “Not for us, at the very least.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Uh, anyways, good luck with the… physical, or whatever,” he said, and received a pat on the shoulder before he walked back off down the hall, hoping to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with an entire room all to himself. He’d almost never had one before.

-

He was used to time changes and jet lag, to needing to switch his sleep schedule on the regular, but the switch to a straight up night shift was a rough one.

His nine-to-five was actually a ten-to-six, as in 10 PM through 6 AM. This meant that, assuming he managed to get his schedule in order, he’d be able to join in on the team dinners if he woke up early and could eat breakfast with them before he went to bed.

Very quickly he realized that going to dinner and breakfast with the team was going to become a staple part of his routine, because it didn’t take long before he began to feel extremely lonely all of the time. In a dark little room, everyone else asleep, scrubbing through tapes from during the day while half keeping an eye on the live feed from around the base that never showed much of anything, it was brutal. It was suffocating.

It was easy, at least. It didn’t take long before he got efficient at it and could start zoning out, and it wasn’t like he was under much pressure. His was the only room without any cameras in it. Security risk, apparently. 
And to be honest, what small amount he and Dad interacted with mercenaries and other criminal types, Jeremy didn’t really tend to like them much. A lot of them were loud and rude and had the potential to turn around and try and kill them whenever they felt like it. He didn’t expect that he’d like the team as much as he did. He especially didn’t expect to like them so much without ever really talking to them.

But watching the camera feeds from throughout the day, seeing what they were up to, they were just... nice people. Soldier out by the dumpsters practicing rocket jumps and wrangling raccoons and apparently trying to learn how to spin a rifle, Pyro’s regular minor explosions in the kitchen while cooking and the surprised and frantic way they cleaned it up every time, the Demoman’s tendency to whistle wherever he went, watching through the feed as they all played cards and argued and jostled each other. They all seemed really nice. Really cool. Really dorky, too, but mostly just really nice and really cool.

And there were a few of them he was less sure about—he couldn’t get eyes on the Medic most of the time, what with the one camera in the Medbay being tilted down at an angle that made it hard to see much of anything but the occasional bird (probably by those same birds). The Heavy tended to just sit and read, and was pretty much silent most of the time otherwise. The Scout tended to leave the base pretty often. And the Sniper didn’t even live on base, he had a van outside that he could only occasionally see movement in when he squinted at the far edge of the camera leading outside. But even then, Heavy and Sniper mostly just seemed quiet, and Medic just seemed busy, and the Scout just seemed like a little bit of a dickhead.

But then one day when Jeremy was at breakfast the Heavy caught him leaning to try to get a look at the cover of the book he was reading, and he blurted that he was just wondering what book was so great that he’d stay up until like four in the morning reading, and then the entire team was gawking at him and asking questions and insisting that it was insane that there was someone actually watching all those cameras, and he shrugged and said there was always supposed to be someone watching the tapes back it was just usually some office worker type a hundred miles away. And they seemed almost... upset with him. And maybe that was fair, it wasn’t like he ever talked to any of them much, mostly he just spent breakfast and dinner half-asleep and listening to their chatter. And Demoman admitted that he’d honestly assumed that Jeremy slept his entire shift, he just always looked so tired at breakfast. There was almost this discomfort. This distrust.

And so, now that the jig was up, he made it a point to say some things to certain members of the team. To tell the Medic that his camera was tilted down so that he couldn’t see most of the room, and to very pointedly say that it was weird how that happened and that he didn’t know why they set it up like that in the first place, but it was really none of his business. Made it a point to warn the Engineer in the morning that the previous night, Soldier had been doing something in the fridge for a while, and to maybe check the labels before he made breakfast. Made it a point to tell the Demoman that the camera in his workshop was right in plain sight, and that if he moved one of his blackboards an inch or two to the left, it would obscure the room a pretty hefty amount. Made it a point to tell the Sniper that the camera on the rooftop seemed to be glitching out, and it’d just sort of lost the tapes of the previous two nights, and that it was really unfortunate since for all he knew there might have been someone ignoring the signs about there being no personnel allowed up there.

In return, he found that Pyro would sometimes make little sparkly notes with smiley faces on them and stick them to the door to the security room. That Sniper started tipping his hat at the camera above the door into the base from the garage. That on occasional drinking nights, the team would suddenly turn and start waving at the camera, laughing the whole way. On one night in particular he could hear through the low-quality and tinny speakers that they were trying to cajole him into leaving the security room for a while to join them for cards, and god, but he wanted to.

And he noticed more things. Soldier walking with a slight limp some days when rocket jumps had rough landings. Being able to count the doves in the infirmary and even tell them apart to some extent through blurry close-ups. The Engineer making it a point to sweep really regularly regardless of what project he was working on.

And then he noticed a weird thing.

It took him a long time to get used to the patterns of hallways, the cameras not really lined up linearly after a while, too many branching paths. He learned to follow progress, to flick from one camera to the next as someone walked around corners. And for a while he thought maybe he wasn’t very good at it.

Until he realized two things. First of all, that in a hallway where he knew there were five doors, he could only see four—apparently the door to Pyro’s room was just barely out of sight of the camera. He only figured it out because one day it swung open wide enough to almost bang against the wall.

And then, when he realized there was somehow that massive blindspot, that there was a corner with a blindspot too. One where that Scout kept disappearing.

He watched a few more times to make sure, and yep. He’d see the Engineer walking around the corner, flick to the next screen, and there he was, continuing down the hallway. And then later that same day, the Scout, walking, and flick to the next camera, and he wasn’t there.

One of the worse parts of the job was that he never got to see Dad anymore, never got to just sort of hang out the way they did all the time when he was growing up, and he knew he would miss it but he didn’t know how much. And he found it was even worse when he had something important to say, doubly so when he had something important to say but no idea if it was actually important.

He tried to bring it up casually, in the like ten minutes of time he ever got alone to talk to Dad. Dad was fighting the kettle trying to make some tea and he was trying to stay awake long enough to figure out how he was going to say this.

“Uh,” he said, and Dad looked at him. “So, uh, what’s the read you’re getting on that Scout guy?”

“Lazy,” Dad shrugged, looked back at the kettle. “Arrogant. He seems to care very little about doing his job correctly and has horrible communication on the field.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, fought a yawn down. “Uh. So like, kind of a dickhead.”

“Indeed,” Dad said, nodding vaguely.

“So uhhh... not the best.”

“Where are you going with this?” Dad asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I, I dunno, the guy just likes hanging out in this one blindspot in the cameras, and it’s kinda freaking me out,” Jeremy said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Dad frowned. “Strange. I wasn’t aware that there were any blindspots in the cameras.”

“There’s only a few, and only for pretty small spaces I think? But apparently he just likes hanging out in one of them.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, glancing over as voices started echoing down the hall towards them. “Just thought it was weird.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dad muttered, voice quiet, and then raised it again slightly. “I refuse to keep up with sports.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said, knowing this game well, changing subjects into something more normal as people entered earshot. “I’m not even asking you to keep up with sports, I’m just saying, I’d kill to go to a baseball game right about now.”

“The American Pasttime!” Soldier called from the room over.

“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed, nodding at Soldier as he also entered the kitchen, a half-asleep Demoman in tow.

“Any ghosties or ghoulies on the cameras last night, lad?” Demo had enough energy to ask, blinking blearily at the contents of the fridge.

“Oh, a billion,” Jeremy said.

“Guard!” Soldier barked, the most awake person in the room. “Should these ghost-ghouls appear again, don’t be afraid to point me in their direction! I have significant experience with them already and do not fear the likes of them!”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shrugged.

“You’re a champion, Guard,” Demo said with what was either a really disoriented blink or a wink, slugging him on the shoulder and wandering back out into the common room with the entire carton of milk in his other hand. Jeremy gave him a mock-salute that Soldier copied with absolute conviction. He and Dad shared a glance after the two of them left, and Jeremy was the first one to break, snickering under his breath.

“I’ll look into it,” Dad said, and also left the kitchen, and Jeremy nodded and started trying to remember what else he’d been planning on doing before bed.

-

“So,” Dad said a few days later, materializing next to Jeremy when he was in the middle of his jog and making him almost jump out of his skin, skidding to a stop.

“You’re enjoying that new watch way too much,” Jeremy panted, out of breath and still very much startled.

“Maybe,” Dad said, and he was smiling. “But as I was saying.”

“All you said was ‘so’,” Jeremy pointed out, giving him a look.

“There’s a juvenile joke here about how I’m your father and so of course I say ‘so’, but if you wouldn’t mind it, I did have something important to say, mon lapin,” Dad replied, and Jeremy rolled his eyes hard at the horrible joke and cheesy name, fighting back a smile of his own.

“Go for it,” he said, and took the opportunity to bend and tighten his shoelaces.

“So. Regarding that Scout and his habits. You mentioned he spends time in blind spots of the cameras, oui?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. Keeps, uh, I guess he keeps getting infractions for going off base too much, too. I’ve logged him leaving like three times this week already,” Jeremy nodded.

“Indeed. Well, considering how new we are to the team, I did not want to jump to conclusions, and so contacted Miss Pauling and asked on your behalf for any older records, and I found out something very... intriguing.”

Jeremy looked up at him, blinking. ‘Intriguing’, historically, had always been a very, very bad thing.

“Apparently, it has been two years since they last had a Guard situated on base. The previous one was a much older gentleman, retired from being a full member of the team due to health complications but not entirely ready to part with the company. The previous guard was somewhat strict, and the Scout—the same as we have now—very much disliked the man. He continued acquiring near-constant infractions under the man’s watch for leaving when he was not meant to, so much so that the previous Guard proposed enstating trackers on the team when they went off-base. And before this policy could take hold, the previous Guard left the base one day and did not return, and finally was found dead a state over, one month later.”

Jeremy blinked once, twice. “Holy shit,” he said, and took note of the wary look on his face. “Okay. So we’re thinkin’ the same thing, right?”

“I would assume so. And…” Dad hesitated, moved to fidget with his cufflinks. “And I would not be particularly concerned about this, as I’m confident that you wouldn’t have gotten his attention from what you’ve been up to lately, and therefore wouldn’t be in danger yet should history attempt to repeat itself, but… he’s already taken a disliking to you.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I believe it’s something as simple as some sort of shallow jealousy. Another American on the team, also relatively young, filling the position of someone he disliked previously. He regularly complains about the fact that you don’t need to go do the same job as the rest of us.” Dad shrugged, glanced over at him. “That, combined with the fact that you have somewhat conflicting duties, well, he tends to rather tetchy. He claims that considering he’s meant to be the first line of defense, they shouldn’t also need a guard at night.”

Jeremy had a number of opinions about that, but he stuck to the most relevant ones. “I really don’t like this guy,” he said. “Might be, uh. Worth keeping an eye on.”

“Agreed.” Dad glanced back over his shoulder towards the base, then at his watch. “Enjoy the rest of your run. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, hit the bricks already, old man,” Jeremy scoffed, waving him off, and Dad rolled his eyes, disappearing again in a cloud of smoke. “You’re gonna be using that thing all the damn time now, aren’t you?”

“Oui,” came a voice from nowhere, and Jeremy huffed a laugh, meandering his way back into the rest of his jog.

-

Jeremy hummed along to the radio, flicking between cameras on autopilot and wondering when exactly to take his lunch break.

He didn’t face the clock or anything, so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he had a pretty solid rhythm at that point. Click, click, click, between the camera to the road, the camera to the main entrance, and the camera in the hall towards the middle of the building, for about one second each. At just about any time after 11 or 11:30, those were the only three in real time that he needed to keep an eye on, mostly for people coming back late from bar hopping or if Miss Pauling was rolling in on a delivery. All the other cameras he could see out of the corner of his eye, and any movement he’d pick up on pretty quick, even if it was usually just the doves fluttering on the camera to the Medbay. After he cycled through those (and there was almost never anything there) he’d cycle back through to the tape he had in, put it on high speed, and watch it for about two or three minutes, get through a chunk of that time. Mostly he’d just be making sure nobody had been in the base while the team was away ni o(which indeed there never was), so there wasn’t much of a reason to take it off high speed, and the second part of the night would be watching the tapes for the time the team was back on base.

Movement on a camera made him click the pause, and he glanced off to the side. One of the doves had shuffled to face the other direction. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the bigger monitor again and pressing play.

The second half of the night was a little more interesting. He just had to look at the tapes for the time the team was there, check for discrepancies that might point to Dad messing with the disguise technology off-the-clock or the enemy Spy having infiltrated. For the most part things were straightforward, but he at least got to see his teammates up to funny things sometimes. Pyro’s antics were usually entertaining. Soldier he only caught some of, on the basis of him often walking off out of range of the cameras when he went on his excursions. Demo was funny sometimes. Honestly, just seeing the Sniper anywhere but as a fuzzy distant shape was interesting.

Movement on a camera. Same dove. He ignored it. Click, click, click, all three cameras clear, back to the fast-forward of the same empty hallway as before.

He really needed to figure something out, for the Scout. Maybe he and Dad were just being paranoid. It would be insane for him to try to outright kill anyone who inconvenienced him, not to mention reckless, and stupid to boot. Acting like that in their line of work would make him a lot of enemies extremely quickly. It would make more sense for the old Guard disappearing to be unrelated, to be honest.

Yeah. Hell, he barely knew the guy, and here he was assuming he’d straight up whacked a guy for getting a little too on his case about something. Maybe they were wrong.

Movement on a camera. He glanced over and froze outright.

It took him five seconds to come to his senses enough to pause the playback on his screen.

Figures. Shapes. Not at the front entrance, in the hallway, there next to the back way, by the garage. At least three, moving carefully, hard to make out in the darkness.

Okay. Okay, don’t panic, focus.

Jeremy ran through a few things in his head. He’d already done a headcount, the only people he wasn’t sure about were the Sniper and the Medic, but he hadn’t seen the Medic in any of the hallways out of the infirmary. Three figures were two too many to be any of the team, and besides that, they didn’t look like the Medic. Too short to be the Sniper, moving differently. Different clothes.

Three people. He hopped up, rushed over to the wall, yanked open the panel he had there. Three buttons, which he needed to hit in order. The first would send an alert to Miss Pauling, the second to whoever was assigned to be on alert that night, the third would set off the alarm.

He hit the first, hit the second, and hesitated on the third.

Okay. Technically if he didn’t hit that third button, he’d be breaking protocol, which was, according to the manual, ‘grounds for termination’. He was pretty sure that meant a long swim with some concrete shoes. And it was apparently recorded every time he hit these buttons, so they could deduct from his pay on false alerts. So they’d know if he didn’t hit this third button. He needed to think fast.

This was a different button than the alert button. The alert was more subtle, set for just one person. The alarm was throughout the entire base, over every loudspeaker. Louder than a fire alarm. If he hit this one, these intruders would hear that there was an alarm going off. Anyone smart would book it, high tail it the hell out of there. But he still didn’t know where they came from.

There hadn’t been movement on any of the screens, and he looked at the camera feed facing the road already, a few times even. He should’ve seen them. And if they found their way in once, they could do it again.

If he didn’t hit the button, on the other hand, whoever was on alert would wake up and wonder why they’d gotten an alert but the alarm wasn’t going off. If they were clever, which they probably were if they’d lasted this long, they’d come to the security room to see what was up and they could work from there.

He closed the panel again and moved to wait.

A minute later, still no movement from the hallway where most of the rooms were. That was fine, they’d just woken up, and probably needed to get dressed and grab their guns.

Another minute later, no movement, which was fair, they just needed a second to get their bearings. The intruders, meanwhile, were just lurking, slowly making their way down the hall.

Another minute later, no movement, and he opened the panel to press the button again before he continued waiting. Maybe they didn’t hear him the first time.

Another minute later and he took to standing next to the panel, mashing the button rapidly, eyes on the screen where the intruders were passing the kitchen, starting to get pretty far into the building.

Another minute later and he stomped his way into his sneakers, grabbing his flashlight and gun and guard cap from where they were hung on the wall. “Fine, I’ll fucking do it myself,” he grumbled, and carefully shouldered open the door, taking one last glance at the camera before he shut the door behind himself.

He kept his footsteps quiet, squinting into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to finish adjusting as he crept towards where he’d last seen the figures. It was near-silent in the base at night except for the distant, quiet hum of generators and occasional shift of plumbing. It was getting more and more familiar, and he found himself able to tune it out somewhat, instead listening intently for footsteps besides his own, making sure to click the safety off his gun while he was still alone and not when he was close to whoever had decided to break in.

Okay. Dad did this all the time. He could handle this.

He slowed as he approached the corner near the kitchen, peering around as carefully as he could, tugging down the brim of his cap to try and hide any potential shine from his eyes. He caught sight of a vague shape standing near the doorway, hesitating before it crept inside, into the common area.

Not ideal, on the basis of that being their goddamn kitchen, but at least there would be cover.

By the time he managed to sneak up to the doorway, he could make out the sound of vague whispering. It was far enough that it gave him the boldness to peer into the room, and just slightly lit by the glow of the clock on the oven he could see two shapes there in the kitchen, the third lingering nearer to him, there by the table.

Jeremy was only just starting to make a plan, relieved to have the jump on them, when there was the distant sound of a generator humming to life, and all the figures stopped, paused for a moment.

“Fucking spooky here,” one whispered, barely audible.

“Calm down,” another whispered. “What, scared of ghosts?”

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, shifted onto the balls of his feet and started creeping a little further into the room. If he could just get all three of them to one side, so he wouldn’t need to pivot so much…

“You don’t know, maybe there’s ghosts here,” the first protested, and swore quietly at what sounded like their winging their elbow against the corner of the tale, and Jeremy tried to stick near the wall, managed to creep half-behind one of the chairs, trying to keep his silhouette indistinct. “These guys kill people.”

“So do we,” the third mumbled, moving out of sight in the kitchen, and Jeremy bit down on a swear, starting to inch behind the couch. “Don’t be a coward. And stop making so much noise.”

“You can’t shoot a ghost,” the first pointed out, moving a bit closer to the kitchen, giving the table a wide berth now. “Or punch it.”

“I can try,” the second said, and stopped at the sound of a rustle.

Jeremy held his breath, weight half-balanced against where he’d tried to step, newspaper trapped beneath his foot.

“That one wasn’t me,” the first whispered. There was another, more significant rustle throughout the room, and Jeremy could see a glint as the intruders drew their weapons.

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, and just barely managed not to swear out loud.

The first one was the closest by, lingering beside the arm of the couch Jeremy was crouched in the shadow of. “Do they have a cat here?” they asked, voice quiet.

The second was approaching into the main room more carefully. From the sound of the footsteps, trying to keep a shoulder closer to the wall, clearly paying more attention to the door. “Are you stupid or something?” was the reply, voice also quiet.

The third didn’t speak, but huffed out a laugh, which was enough to tell Jeremy that he was out of the kitchen.

Jeremy inhaled shakily, exhaled shakily, shifted his grip on his handgun and flashlight, and took a split second to think. Inhaled one more time.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his flashlight like a billy club and clobbering the first figure across the side of the head, sending them tumbling to the ground. From the sound of the impact, a dislocated jaw at the very least. One down.

A shout from the other side of the room, arms moving to try to aim, clearly struggling to see him, but that third figure was in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the oven’s clock, and that was enough to figure out where the head and chest were. He aimed, fired, got what he was pretty sure was the neck considering the brief spray of blood that splattered against the oven, darkening the room completely.

A swear from the second figure, and Jeremy wanted to swear too, because he’d hoped that second figure would be stupid and try and charge him, but now he was ten steps away and didn’t have time to fiddle with and cock the gun again, other hand full with a flashlight and no way to—

Oh, duh.

“Stay where you are,” the second figure ordered, but Jeremy’s eyes were a little better adjusted and besides that, he wasn’t the one talking. He lifted his flashlight and clicked it on.

The second figure cried out, recoiling at the sudden blindingly bright light in what had been near-darkness, and Jeremy had time to finagle his thumb up to cock his gun again, now able to aim with absolute accuracy, this shot connecting with the figure’s head.

He exhaled.

It took Jeremy two minutes to remember to fire a bullet into the chest of the unconscious guy, and another minute for the other mercenaries to start showing up, half-dressed and armed. Dad, presumably to prove a point, showed up pretty close to the middle of the pack almost fully dressed. Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how long it took before Miss Pauling showed up, but he wasn’t even halfway through their questions by that time.

“Guard, headcount?” she asked before she even bothered saying hello, still wearing her motorcycle helmet and looking more than a little bit miffed.

“Uh,” he said, eyes drawn away from where Medic was assessing the bodies on the kitchen table, “seven present and accounted for. Sniper’s probably out at his van, don’t know about the Scout.”

“Alright. Pyro,” she said, and Pyro stood at attention, bunny slippers squeaking at the movement. “go wake up Sniper and get him in here.”

Pyro nodded, handing their weird unicorn plushie thing to Jeremy as they passed by, giving him a solemn nod before hurrying away.

“Okay. Guard, hit me with a rundown, then,” she said, and shot a glance around the room. “No peanut gallery needed. And Medic, please don’t take them apart too much. I gotta get rid of those later.”

“Uh. Spotted these guys on the cameras, hit the first and second alerts,” Jeremy said.

“And not the third?” she asked pointedly.

“They were, like, right next to the door, and—here’s the thing, Miss P, is I dunno how the hell they got in here,” he said, and there was a general balk from the room. “No, seriously. They didn’t come in on the main road, they were in one of the back hallways by the garage. There’s gotta be a hole in the cameras or something, because I seriously don’t know where they came from. And if they booked it, they’d take whatever vehicle they used to get here, too, and we might not figure it out. Thought I’d just wait for whoever the hell was supposed to be on alert so we could… I dunno, at least see which way they went.”

“Guard,” she admonished, and he shrank a little bit. “That was incredibly reckless. What if nobody had shown up to help you?”

“Uh,” he said, blinked, “but… nobody did show up.”

A pause. She blinked. “What? You’re the one who did that?” she asked, entirely shocked, pointing towards the three bodies on the table.

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that my job?” he asked carefully, shifting the stuffed animal under his arm.

“No, you’re—you’re just supposed to be the Guard, you’re supposed to watch cameras, not—“ She paused, taking a second to push up her glasses and rub at the bridge of her nose, inhaling, exhaling. “Okay. Points for… going above and beyond, here, but Guard, don’t do that again.”

“Sure thing, Miss P,” he mumbled, tugging on the brim of his guard cap, and sighed to himself as Miss Pauling moved away to try and stop Medic from attempting to covertly steal a few organs from the corpses. Dad clapped him on the shoulder supportively, and that did make him feel a little better. He wasn’t expecting a clap to the other shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see Heavy there, looking just slightly less grim than usual.

“Little Guard man is credit to team,” he said simply, solemnly.

Jeremy straightened up slightly. “Oh. Hey, thanks,” he said. Heavy nodded at him.

“It’s true,” Demo called, and he looked over, got another approving nod. “Really saved the lot of us, lad.”

“I, I mean, hey, it’s… what I’m here for. Or, uh. I thought that was it, anyways,” he shrugged, glancing away. “I mean, yeah, I’m pretty cool, though.”

Dad bumped his arm for the last part, and he snickered. “My question,” Dad continued, doing his best to ignore him, “is primarily regarding who, precisely, was supposed to be present to help Guard with this. Who is meant to be on alert?”

“It’s meant to be Scout, ain’t it?” the Engineer asked from nearby, frowning. A general murmur of agreement. “Could he have slept through it?”

“Heavy doubts this,” Heavy grumbled, looking troubled.

“Why’re we awake?” asked Sniper from the doorway, and various teammates called out a greeting. Sniper seemed half-gone, and completely grumpy, but not as grumpy as Pyro, and not nearly as gone as the man leaning heavily against Pyro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” the Scout managed, grinning, speech garbled, visibly sloppy and unbalanced. “What’s up, guys?”

Groans from parts of the room. “Drinkin’ again, Scout?” the Engineer drawled, visibly irritated.

“That’s my trademark, lad, go on,” Demo laughed, but the enthusiasm wasn’t entirely there.

“Scout,” Miss Pauling said, voice firm in a way that made Jeremy almost flinch in sympathy. “Are you aware that we’ve had a situation here while you’ve been sleeping?”

“Weren’t sleeping,” Sniper murmured, and eyes turned to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Came stumbling in ‘round when I was heading in. He was out for the night. Bar, looks like.”

“What?” Jeremy demanded. “Why the fuck didn’t I see him leave on the cameras?”

“Alright,” Miss Pauling said, and Jeremy looked at her. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s possible he went through the back tunnel.”

“Back tunnel?” Jeremy asked, and glanced around. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of it.

“For emergencies only. Scout’s the only one who I’ve given a key card to. I have one too. It’s supposed to be used for transporting especially sensitive information, most of the team isn’t supposed to even know it exists. If there’s a gap in the cameras around the back of the building, he might have been using it to… sneak out to go to town, even though he knows he’s already in hot water for leaving the base so much,” Miss Pauling said, glaring at Scout, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” he protested, scoffing.

“That tunnel is for emergencies only,” Miss Pauling stressed. “I trusted you with the privilege of knowing about it account of having worked here for so long, and you’re using that privilege and key card to mess around?”

“He was coming back from around the front of the building, at least,” Sniper chimed in, and Pyro nodded. “Not that I’d understand the point of sneaking out if he’s going to just walk back in the front door.”

“Key card?” Medic repeated from near the table, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s a magnetized card, that can be read by a card reader, used like a key,” Miss Pauling explained, deflating a little bit.

His eyebrows furrowed further. “Would it happen to look anything like this?” he asked, picking up a lanyard from the table and holding it up, showing the room the card clipped onto the end of it.

Two beats of silence. “Spy, would you mind?” Miss Pauling asked politely, nodding towards the Scout, who had gone pale.

“Not at all,” Dad said just as politely, and walked over towards the Scout and Pyro, then circled around behind them, and sank a blade into the Scout’s spine. He promptly crumbled to the floor, dead.

“Well. At least that’s that mystery solved,” Miss Pauling sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose again. “Now I’ve gotta block off time tomorrow to get rid of three bodies, and then hopefully that’s the last we’re gonna hear of this or else the Administrator is gonna kill me.”

“What about the Scout?” Heavy rumbled.

“…Scratch that. Four bodies,” she mumbled, face dropping into her hands. “And then I need to find his replacement. Ugh.”

“Can’t imagine you’d need to go far,” Demo said, and Jeremy looked up, and Demo was very obviously tilting a thumb in his direction.

“He’s proven himself to be better at this job,” Dad agreed, shrugging. “And I would say on a bad day he’s still a better runner than the previous Scout on a good one.”

“He can clearly handle a firearm well,” the Engineer noted, looking over one of the bodies.

“And a blunt object,” Medic chimed, just a bit too pleased. “This jaw is almost completely shattered!”

“Okay, okay, fine, sure,” Miss Pauling waved off, one hand still pressed to her face, clearly overwhelmed and tired. “We’ll get his paperwork in tomorrow. Congratulations, you’re the new Scout, any questions? Can the questions wait until morning? Great, thank you. Good night, everyone. Medic, have the bodies in bags for me at least, okay?”

A distracted thumbs up from Medic, and Miss Pauling was groaning, wandering back out of the room, and most of the team followed, yawning amongst themselves. Sniper half-attempted to ask again why the hell any of them were awake, but gave up halfway through. Pyro, for one, made sure to at least retrieve the plushie from Scout’s arms before wandering off, giving him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Dad said, and when he looked over, he was smiling. “A promotion, mon lapin. Congratulations, new Scout.”

“Do I gotta wear that stupid outfit he always wears?” Jeremy asked, entirely serious. His reply was a laugh and a pat on the shoulder before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Pops, I’m serious. Do I? Dad!?”

-

“—So that’s why I figured, y’know, might as well tell you guys,” Jeremy finished rambling, hands in his pockets, continuing down the hallway. “Because… I dunno. I could tell Miss P, but it’s nice having secret stuff, y’know?”

“You think this is how they actually got in?” Demo asked, looking dubious. “Little blind spot in the cameras?”

“Only a couple feet wide, you said?” Sniper grumbled.

“Sounds possible,” Heavy said hesitantly.

“I dunno. Maybe. But if I tell Miss P about it, they’re gonna fix it,” Jeremy shrugged, turning the corner and stopping. “There. I knew it.”

They stopped with him, following his line of sight. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Sniper deadpanned. “You want to tell me he’d been climbing out a window like a teenager?”

Jeremy shrugged, moving to open the window in question. It swung open easily, just large enough to push through with only a little bit of a problem, barely needing to turn his shoulders. “He’s not much bigger than me, and what the hell else would he be doing here?” he pointed out.

“Heavy cannot fit through that window,” Heavy deadpanned.

“Yeah. Sorry, big guy,” Jeremy apologized, leaning back inside and closing it again. “But hey, mystery solved, right?”

“Well, if I ever need windows to climb out of, now I know just the lad for the job,” Demo said, nudging him. “Thanks, Guard. Or, er, Scout. Och, now that’s going to take getting used to, aye? Might just stick to calling you ‘laddie’, laddie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he laughed, nudging him right back. And as much as they ribbed him for it, he did see a kind of appreciation there. Just like he’d figured, they seemed to take note of him taking their side and not just Miss Pauling’s.

Now he just needed to switch back over to the day shift.

[shunsuiken]

thinking. thinking very hard about kaeya asking you to go on a phone call whilst you’re working. the idea itself is extremely dubious, constantly raising flags when you know what kaeya’s like. he’ll probably be leaned against the doorframe of your shared apartment, half-lidded eyes peering out at you and that signature smirk of his glazes his features. hands in his pockets and he’s all, “hey. you should call me whilst you’re at work.” in that sweet, crisp breathy tone of his.

you’ll turn around to gawk at him, confusion painting your face thickly because the idea is a little unusual. why now, of all days? you’ve been working the same mediocre retail job for years now, and suddenly kaeya wants to go on a call with you? it’s a little bit.. cynical. very, actually.

“what? are you saying i’m not allowed to hear my lover's voice, hmm? you just sound so pretty all the time, that’s all.” kaeya remarks almost immediately, like he might have had this exact sentence stored in the back of his mind for this particular situation. his teasing tone rolls off of his lips effortlessly; yet you can’t help but give him a slight glare for the absolute hold he has on you.

“fine. just shut up, okay? i don’t want you saying stupid ass shit and trying to make me laugh if i’m working with customers.” you grunt in defeat, heartstrings twisting the second a small smirk tugs onto the corner of kaeya’s lips.

but it’s not like you can fault kaeya. cause you weren’t specific enough. maybe that’s your fault, too.

no stupid jokes? fine.

you can listen to the sounds of him stroking his cock, cute pitchy whines and low groans spilling out of him in strings. kaeya’s always quick to be verbal in bed, constantly praising you and murmuring how good your pussy feels, how warm and tight you are for him.

but this? fuck. the little shit’s laughing. straight up groaning and then he ends up scoffing because it feels so good.

“kaeya, please.” you hiss through clenched teeth, your gaze frantically scanning the surrounding area. he’s being so fucking loud you’re sure someone’s bound to hear him through your headphones.

“just— ah! fuck. shit, feels so good baby. wish you were here—mmh—jerking me off instead. just. turn the volume down. or end the call, actually.” kaeya stutters, and you can’t see it but you swear you can. the way his bony, slender digits curl around his pretty cock, pumping furiously and his jaw slacks when his head lightly thuds against the headboard. he’s probably too lazy to completely undress, lap spread wide and thighs inviting as his angry cock leaks out from between the pants he’s wearing. his last sentence comes out in a breezy laugh, because he knows.

“but you’re not going to, are you?”

and kaeya hits you with that smooth, condescending tone. whiny and full of arrogance.

“such a naughty fucking girl. you’re getting paid to listen to me jack off, huh?”

ANSNWKEKEODKSKSNSWB IM GONNA THROW MYSELF OFF A BUILDING LIV OH MY HODDDD WWNWNWJKEEKSKKMSKSN LIV YOUR BRAIN . YOU ARE INSANE MY GOD DO YOU WANT ME TO BUIDL A SHRINE FOR YOU EBCAUASE I WILL did i mention that im also asking for your hand in marriage 💍 you have no right to say no ☺️☺️

[weebsinstash]

You honestly don't need to go to college to get a good job. You can go through a contractor agency and get a office job and get paid at least $500 a week for something like data entry work. I dont see the point in going to college a getting a bunch of debt if you don't have to. I dropped out of college and was super depressed after and thats what i did. Im now 23 and make a cool $25 an hour, which is not bad for a single person with no kids.

Yeah that's a pretty good wage for 23! I'm turning 25 this winter myself (ugh). Sorry to hear college didn't work out though. I'm sure that was extremely stressful :(

I know it can be kind of varied, but as an American it's becoming the norm here to have a college degree that you actually can't do anything with. I used to have a neighbor who's son had a law degree and you know what he was doing for work? He was a waiter at Outback Steakhouse, still paying off his student loans

My mom never even finished college and she's still paying off her student loans at 56. Fun fact but when that whole coronavirus student loan forgiveness program was going on, it doesn't count if your loans have already been sold to a collection agency, which is where most student loans currently are, so even a lot of forgiveness programs tend to fuck you over. My mom was hoping she could finally be free of her student loans and she was told "nah sorry you're stuck with those forever". Like she's making payments over time but I think she told me that they gather interest faster than she can pay them so she's kind of just resigned to dying without ever paying them off which is Not Good

There's also a lot of studies and statistical evidence which suggests that American schools are more often than not lacking in quality education so it's also like. For the price of going to college here you could probably move to another country, buy a house there, and attend their free nationalized college.

Like shit I could go to trade school and learn how to do wiring or electrician work and I would make more than many teachers, cops, public service workers, EMTs. The American reality is that many specialized jobs really don't pay for shit anymore because we refuse to raise the minimum wage. The only wages that are increasing are for actually "unskilled" jobs where wannabe ceos and corporate mooks are answering emails in between checking Facebook. Shit one of my old roommates worked in IT (not an unskilled job, but this applies in context) and made something like over $200 an hour and there were many times where he would just. Literally not have anything to do. Most of the time he worked from home but when they required him to go into the office they kind of slacked off because they would have so few tasks a day and then once those were done they would have literal HOURS of free time.

And those are the people making more than I ever could in a lifetime. I resent it. I extremely resent it. Even though my roommate worked hard to get where he was, having multiple degrees and a long resume of everything from sushi chef to retail, he had rich parents to help him go to college and support him, and he spent his money like absolute shit. Him and his partner would move once every other year "just because they don't like living in the same place for too long, I dunno"

Meanwhile my ass who grew up in poverty and had to move because of not having money and being evicted just sitting there and hearing this like 😬😰😤

It's not that college doesn't work or anything but definitely in America it has become an extremely predatory process where you aren't even really guaranteed that it'll be worth it. I remember even little baby Weeb back in elementary school eventually started going "it doesn't matter what job I want because I'm not gonna be able to get it :)" though that may have been from... a childhood stocked with watching my mom lose job after job after job and not being able to find good ones, idk

[deancodedcastielenby]

It started out with a XX

Part 1  |  Part 2 

I said I would tag:  @casmick-consequences & @proudcasgirl  If anyone else would like a tag let me know, I can add you.  Part 2 under the cut!  Love you all. 

Dean was avoiding Castiel, which was fine honestly, it was probably better this way. Sam on the other hand was very helpful when Castiel had a question that was not easily answerable via google. There were some questions that when asked, the answers seemed juvenile and Castiel was sure that someone some where was making fun of him for asking the questions. Claire was also being a bit of a mixed bag when it came to help, for the most part her advice was sound, but there seemed to be a hint of teasing to some of her words.  Claire had recommended that perhaps he should change his outfit if he was going out on a date. Mick had obviously seen what he was wearing the last time Mick was around, and one should put their best foot forward. It seemed like a correct idea, so he had asked Sam what one should wear on a date. Claire’s suggestion was a bit more explicit than he would have liked, but that seemed highly inappropriate for a first date. Of course he had showed Sam what Claire had responded and he laughed but just stood and closed his laptop. “Come on then Cas, we need to go find a store. I’m not sure you want to wear hand me down flannel on your date. Let me just change and we can go.”  Vaguely Castiel wondered if he should ask Dean what he thought appropriate first date attire was, but he was not sure if Dean would even talk to him right now. After bowing out of the library yesterday he hadn’t seen the other man, though he was not looking for Dean either. A few moments later Sam returned with a jacket and shoes, appropriately dressed in human attire for the elements and motioned to the garage. That is of course where Dean happened to be, going through some stuff in the Impala’s trunk. “Where are you two headed off to?” Dean asked as he looked up from his duffle.  “I was going to take Cas here clothes shopping. I figure he would want something a little different than the suit and trench coat for his Date.” Was it Castiel’s imagination or was there more emphasis than needed when Sam said the word date?  Squinting and tilting his head a little he watched as something silent passed between the brothers, Dean’s face becoming a stone façade that was hard to read and Sam rolling his eyes. “Did you want to come with us Dean?”  A hard look is shared again and Castiel is reminded that there is a lot to human emotion that he still does not understand. Somehow they all end up in the Impala with Dean driving and Sam sitting in the passenger seat allowing or Castiel to think more on what he knew of the human experience.

Being so close to the Winchesters he had observed Dean “picking up chicks” countless times, and observed the flirtation that Dean often used. However, those flirtations were only for the night and that is not something Castiel wanted to experience. Since loosing his grace and becoming human Castiel just wanted to belong, to have a place... to have someone. What he wanted was Dean but he knew that was something he was never going to be able to have, so instead he would follow some advice that he had found (with Claire’s help) and find someone who wanted him. Mick seemed to want him in that sense, and that was what first dates were for after all, seeing if there was compatibility. No matter where Castiel’s heart was currently set, he was going to try this new thing out with Mick.  The mall is where they ended up and Castiel found himself dragged through a few stores, looking at colors and textures and just viewing fashion for a while as Sam and Dean argued over what things he might like. Wandering away from the brothers a bit he found himself in a store that seemed to have a selection of items that felt good in his hands and had a wide array of colors. An attendant was able to assist him in selecting the correct sizes and ushered him into a fitting room to try on some things. After what felt like hours he had a few outfits that the attendant called business casual, a few that were more “comfy casual” and a few miscellaneous pieces. Castiel was explaining to the young man that he was looking for something for a first date when Sam found him and paid for the purchases without even looking.  With the help of Matthew, the attendant, he chose a dark blue button down shirt, the gray “slacks”, and brown shoes with a matching belt for the date. Matthew also suggested a few accessories should he want them, such as a watch or a necklace to complete the outfit. That particular store did not have what the attendant was suggesting, however he did mention a few other stores in the mall that may have what he was looking for, and bid them a wonderful day.  Sam guided Castiel out of the shop and over to a few of the suggested places until Cas found some accessories that he felt comfortable with and met back up with Dean. It looked as though Dean had been shopping as well, as he had a few bags of his own, but did not comment on what Castiel had purchased. Leaving the mall, Sam suggested that Cas wear his watch to get used to it, and they headed off to the local Walmart to pick up some generic things that they needed for the bunker while Cas waited patiently in the Impala sending a few texts to Claire about the shopping experience and of course checking to see if Mick had sent him anything while he was out.  << Here are the details I said I would send you, looking forward to tonight! XX 

There were simple directions to get to the place, and the name. Castiel smiled, he was looking forward to it as well.  >>Thank you, I am looking forward to it as well. I should warn you though that I do not need to eat.  << That just means we can share ;) . I am not opposed. XX Castiel was still staring at his phone with squinted eyes and a tilted head when the brothers came back and headed back to the bunker. No time for conversation on the way either with the loud blaring of the Blue Oyster Cult through the speakers, but it was fine anyway. Castiel had a date to get ready for. 

This is the reference image for the outfit I pulled from pinterest because im at work and really tired... but yeah.

[2ynjns]

cat in a trap || lee minho

day 3 of 31 days of christmas

pairings: lee know x reader

genre: fluff

warning: just soonie, doongie and dori and profanity.

you angrily stomped on across the hallway walking towards your apartment door since you had a bad day at school. you had an argument with your project partner, han jisung, because he was slacking and you caught him chatting with his friends instead of revising your project together, which is due tonight at 12 am.

you scratched your head and unlocked your door and was mentally ready to spend at all-nighter for the project, you also planned on excluding jisung’s name from your project when you turn it in.

“gosh, university is so fucking complicated.” you muttered to yourself and opened the door wide open.

you threw your backpack across the living room and threw your shoes to the side, and doing the same with your coat. without looking, you kicked the door close behind you and unlocking it while you put on your house slippers.

you walked straight to your kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee at 6 pm, preparing your physical body, to stay up and murmuring positivity to yourself to emotionally and mentally prepare your brain.

letting out a deep sigh, you closed your fist and hit the counter. “GODDAMN YOU HAN FUCKING JISUNG.” you screamed on top of your lungs. you took out your phone and opened your messages.

fuck you, you typed and pressed send. sending the message to jisung.

after making the perfect coffee for yourself, you sat on your dining chair and reached for your laptop. opening 3 tabs for your research project.

you admired your christmas tree that you put up by yourself in your living room before starting on your project to suck in positive christmas energy before your pessimism kicks in again. “good luck to me.” you said and paid your full attention to your laptop.

about an hour in, you felt your tiredness kicking in. you’re having the urge to take a quick nap but you knew that if you do, you’re not gonna have enough time to finish your project on time.

after 10 minutes of fighting with yourself, you decided to take a quick nap. “just a short 15 minute quick power nap.” you convinced yourself, thinking that you need energy to work on your project anyway.

you closed your eyes and buried your face on the table. you were about to doze off when you heard scratching in your living room. you immediately looked up with confusion. you looked around and started questioning yourself if there’s a ghost living with you.

“what kind of christmas ghost is this now?” you whispered to yourself, but you ignored the sound and went back to your dream land.

the scratching continued for about 3 more minutes and that is when you’ve had enough. you stood up from your chair and scratched your head. “i swear to god if there’s a ghost here i’m gonna sue-- whO THE HELL??”

you saw cream and white colored cat playing with your already fallen christmas balls on the floor. your jaw dropped wide open, so did your eyes.

“uhm-- wait, aren’t you minho’s cat?” you asked the cat. “meow.” it answered.

“okay ming ming, you need to go home to your own apartment. i’m not gonna rage that you messed up my decor but you needa get out.” you pointed at the door and walked towards it. you opened the door widely and looked back at the cat, who is now staring at you, laying on the floor with the all in its’ paw.

“meow.”

you chuckled annoyed and glared at it. “are you gonna leave or what?” you said.

you and the cat played a staring game for a minute before answering you, “meow.”

you hissed at it as you put your arms on your waist. “okay ming ming, im not playing around anymore. i’m calling your owner.”

your left the door open and walked towards the apartment door right across you. you stomped angrily, again, and a series of thud startled minho on the other side of the door.

“hoLD ON I’M LOOKING FOR MY THIRD CAT YOU CAN WAIT!” he screamed. you frowned and knocked louder.

“WELL I HAVE YOUR CAT DUMBASS!” you screamed back, and with no time the door sprung wide open.

“doonGIE! WHERE’S MY DOONGIE?!?!” he screamed at your face, you squinted and scanned his face and the apartment behind him. 

oh god he has two more cats.... and jisung??? you said to yourself, making a more obvious, deeper disgusted face. 

you pointed at jisung, who is behind minho holding the brown cat, “do your shit or else i’m not putting your name on the paper.” you said and jisung’s eyes spread wide open, dropping the cat and garbbing his laptop.

facing minho you sarcastically smiled and pointed at your wide-opened door behind you, showing his cat chilling in your living room with more balls around it.

“collect your cat because this is not a cat-pount, and plus he messed up my christmas decors. teach your cats to listen to people.” you rolled your eyes and walked to your door.

minho ran to enter your apartment and carried his cat. “doongie! why did you go to a stranger’s place? you shouldn’t you that! you made appa scared.” he cooed at the cat, making you cringe.

he finally faced you and bowed. “sorry about that, uhm, i can help you fix the decors my cat messed with... and about jisung, i already lectured him, he’s gonna do your project...” he bowed again.

you just gave him a sigh and smiled, you tapped his shoulders and smiled, teasingly.

“teach your cat, and your wanna be cat. and thanks but i can fix my own decor.” you said as you were about to close the door behind you, but he was quick to hold the door open.

“how bout uhh... coffee tomorrow morning? as an apology?” he offered. you smiled awkwardly.

“i’m having three cups of coffee tonight. maybe next time.” you said and held the knob.

“or lunch! tomorrow? or dinner? i just want to treat you out, been meaning to ask you, out, y’know. without the cats of course.” you stared at him with awe.

i mean, he is cute, minus the cat. i guess i’ll take it.

“you’re really not letting yourself lose, huh.” you smirked. “fine, dinner tomorrow. im probably not gonna be awake by 3 pm tomorrow anyway. see ya. and NO CATS!” you giggled and closed the door behind you.

maybe, having your neighbor’s cat paying you a visit and messing your christmas decor wasn’t so bad.

[pumpkin-pi-e]

erasermic mafia au!/reader

Prompt: Hizashi takes his darling shopping, and Shota acts your glorified bag holder. (Sexy times ensue in the dressing room)

Hizashi encourages you to buy whatever it is your little heart desires, uncaring of the price tag, anything for his precious little princess! Today’s all about you, mama! Ya like it? Throw it in the bag, baby! Daddy’s treat for being such a good girl for ‘im.

If you give him lip, hung up on the cost, he’ll scoff and rip it off the rack, either throwing it in the cart himself or at Shota, who catches with ease. Money is no issue. Do you honestly think he can’t afford to splurge on his special lil shortie? Don’t insult him. What was that cute little nickname Shota had gifted you? Oh that’s right! Kitten. Now fill up those bags, kitten. The three of you have a reservation at Giovanni’s at 3:00. Of course his bodyguard is tagging along, who else is gonna check your food for poison?

If you’re still hesitant after his insistence, he’ll find it cute at first, thinking you’re just being shy and coy; but after a while he’s fed up and frustrated, snatching articles off their hangers that he thinks you’ll like or things that caught his eye. All a huff, he’ll let you know that you better start behavin’. He isn’t above draggin’ your sorry butt into the dressing room for what seems like a much needed lesson in appreciation. Honey, baby, buttercup, now you were grippin’ about how much time he was spending on work, and he finally took some time off, just fer you, and yer actin’ like an ungrateful lil brat. This belt isn’t just for style, and it ain’t just for show.

Out of spite he’ll buy out the whole store. With your upbringing and at those prices you were reluctant to pick out anything, so he bought you everything. He’s on the phone, and growling orders, those bags aren’t gonna fit in the car, he calls the boys ‘round to pick up the slack.

He doesn’t mind if others stare, he can’t blame them, he scored a stunner! It isn’t their arm you’re hanging off of, and he knows they can’t keep you in designer threads like he can. He can grudge them a glance, after all, you’re a luxury none can afford. No one but him anyway. But eyein’ that candy ain’t free. If their gaze strays beyond appreciation and into coveting, with a nod of his head in their direction they’re promptly dealt with. And if one has the gall, the audacity to call themselves hollerin’ at you? Oh ho ho, more than one of his babies are gonna eat good tonight.

You bet your ass he’s accompanying you to the dressing room! He paid for it, so it’s only fair he be there for the try on haul. He wants you put him on a show! Shōta stands guard outside the stall.

If you’re ever upset with him, Hizashi’s way of apologizing is to drop stacks on your wardrobe, makeup bag, etc. He’ll hemorrhage his entire bank account if it means your forgiveness. He’s bad at disregarding your feelings, waving you away with crisp Benjamin’s. Why so glum, sugarplum? Go dry yer eyes and buy yourself somethin’ nice. Whadaya mean he can’t throw money at all his problems and expect to fix it? “I’m tired of drying my tears with paper, Hizashi!” Ughhhhh! He doesn’t have time for this. Take his card and go buy some new shoes, songbird. You’ll be singin’ a sweeter tune when ya do.

Stuffs cash down your bra, pants, or wherever he’s feeling when you do something he likes. Dinner on the table when he gets home? He’s tipping you. Breakfast in the morning? That’s another twenty for his, honeydew. Coffee too? Damn boo, does ‘e love you. Givin’ him kisses? That’s money, honey!

Didja have fun, sweetie? He’s glad. When you’re happy he’s happy. And you’ll be payin’ him back later on tonight. He’s all too happy to show his love by dropping a pretty penny on his PYT, and he expects to be paid in kind. Show your man how much you appreciate him, how good he treats you, how well takes care of you.

He can be impossibly sweet, but when he’s upset he’s nothing like the goofball you fell in love with. You thought Shōta was menacing when you’d first been introduced, but he couldn’t hold a flame to the way those red eyes burned and blazed with hell fire when enraged.

[revengeoftheantichrist]

From Eden

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, snakes, secret identity, stalking

AO3  <<<Previous 

Chapter 2

Michael spent the evening trawling through the sanctuary database to look for the girl. With no name to go off, she was quite difficult to find. He did eventually find her. Her name was Y/N. His hunch earlier was correct, she was a scientist that worked in the Eden system. One of the applicants selected in the guise of an internship at Kineros, but as far as you were concerned, you were at the right place at the wrong time. Michael noted that your ID picture hadn’t been updated since you had arrived all fresh faced, he knew from the fact that your hair had grown a lot more than the picture. He transferred all your information to his personal device; your role and shift timetable, your room number, even health records. Everything about you was in the palm of his hands. The records showed that you were not one of the candidates for the next round of the repopulation programme, another resident mustn’t have caught your eye; this was perfect. He never paid attention to where his food or amenities came from, he didn’t have to he was the king of the new world. All deliveries to the 9th floor were seen to by Ms. Mead. When asked, she told Michael that the girl was the one responsible for hand delivering his fruit every other day. ‘Maybe that’s why it tastes so sweet’, thought Michael to himself. Hoping to catch her on her shift, the next afternoon, Michael headed up to Eden. //// Your favourite shifts were those in the afternoon; there was no rush and you could work at your own pace today. The sun shone bright and warm, and it was quiet. Your hair was tied back with a silk scarf, a basket at your hip waiting to be filled with fresh apples. You reached up to pick the next one and screamed, dropping the basket. Something had slithered up your arm. A snake. There was a snake in Eden. This was not good. It indicated that there may be a breach of the biome walls, that it wasn’t sealed properly. This crack could tear down the system that had been so carefully crafted and maintained. You had to get to the manager; this problem needed to be sorted before the food supply was compromised. The snake had coiled itself around your wrist, squeezing enough to keep himself in place, not making any moves to harm you. It was juvenile black ball python. It definitely should not be in this part of the world. As far as you were aware no one had snakes as pets downstairs. You turned to pick up your basket, instead you were met with the sight of expensive leather shoes. You looked up. There stood a man you had never seen before. Smiling down at you. He wore black slacks and a billowy white shirt. “uhm, can I help you?” who was he? Maybe the radiation had gotten to you and you were seeing angels now. “don’t be afraid,” he replied. You grabbed your basket and stood, one of the apples rolling to his feet. He picked it up and bit into it, the crunch echoing through the biome, juice dripping down his chin. He held it out to you, an offering. “I’m fine thank you. I don’t take fruit from strangers.” “if only Eve had taken the same advice,” he mused. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you up here before,” you cut straight to it. “an inspector from the lower floors. Just making sure nothings being tampered with,” he answered. He took another bite of the apple, licking up any juices that surrounded his lips. You were mesmerised by the way his mouth moved. You were distracted enough to not notice the snake moving into one of your pockets. “Inspector? Jeff and Mutt usually come up here by themselves. Do they have a little errand boy now?” “errand boy? Do you speak to everyone who’s above you in rank like that?” You stared at him. “the only person that scares me in here is Ms. Mead. Even then she likes me, so.” “not even the king scares you?” “I can’t be scared of someone I’ve never met or seen,” you finished. He held his hand out for you to shake, you hesitated before shaking it; it was soft, unlike your rough hands from all the labour you did. “I’m Adam,” he introduced himself. “I don’t believe you, but, I’m Y/N.” “Always good to be cautious. I will be observing your work up here for a few shifts. However, it is to remain a secret, as it’s a secret inspection. Understood?” You nodded; you didn’t want to mess with him. “I have to get back to the manager, my shift is over now,” you pointed to the work exist. He smiled and waved you off, you speed walking to your next station; his eyes burning right through you. Two snakes had slithered into Eden that afternoon. //// “Dude! I told u. If im gonna make babies with anyone, she gotta be hot AND clever.” Michael could hear Jeff and Mutt before walking into their lab. The pair were looking for potential matches for their own reproduction needs, wanting to be on the next round of the repopulation programme. “What are the pair of you yapping about,” Michael snipped out. “Jeff’s being picky man. VS models aren’t good enough for his spawn,” he snorted out. “Dude the only person to fit that description is that hot grey scientist upstairs.” Michaels ears perked up; they couldn’t be talking about Y/N could they? “Who? Y/N? You’re right bro, she’s hot, funny and clever.” Jeff replied, between snorting lines. He was right Michael thought. He thought you looked like a doe in the forest while he was watching you from afar. So gentle with all the work that you did. The artificial sunlight making you glow. You had an intelligence and gentleness he hadn’t seen in five years; the people down here were far too shallow for any of those traits. Your humour had been refreshing, no one had the balls to talk to him like that anymore, not since his Hawthorne days. But what angered Michael was that he wasn’t the only one who could see it, everyone else could too. The fact that Jeff and Mutt had spoken to you before, that you were on a first name basis, infuriated him. You didn’t even know who he was. “err, you alright boss? You’re kinda glaring holes into us,” Mutt snapped him out of his daze. As Michael looked up, your profile was up on Jeff’s screen. With a subtle snap of his finger, he turned off the screen. “I suggest you stay away from greys when considering matches, I’m sure my father won’t be happy. However, I may offer up some of my harem girls, no need to keep them sitting around if nothing’s happening,” he said, tuning on his heel and walking out. As if satan cared who you fucked. //// Today had been a strange day to say the least. It wasn’t common to meet beautiful strangers around here, but here you were. All perimeters had been inspected, there was no sign of a breach anywhere. The snake had also gone missing, making you think you might have dreamed the last half of your shift. You settled for the evening in bed, surprisingly comfortable considering your rank. The greys were all abuzz this time of year, as it was ‘reproduction season’ as you called it. It was a chance for them to change ranks if they matched with someone above them. You didn’t care too much. No one had ever caught your eye enough. Yet you drifted of thinking about the blue-eyed stranger, dreaming of cherubic children. You didn’t notice the snake slither next to you, watching you sleep.

Next>>>

[bitchiha]

A/N: So I wrote this instead of doing any of my psych assignments which is fine by me. Im a little bit rusty with one shots bc the last one I did was a Harry Potter angst with Draco and that was on a diff blog a few months back. Any who, enjoy and thank you for requesting!!

Request:  I would like to order a Gaara x Reader where Gaara and Reader are dating, but she is a Leaf Shinobi, and she she is always very talkative and smiling, but one day she is serious and quiet, and he is worried, but finds out that she is only concerned with something kind of silly, and then he is relieved and realizes that he really loves her.

✎ Worry (Gaara oneshot)

You didn’t get to see your boyfriend all that often, being that you were a Leaf ninja, constantly on missions and he was a Kazekage, constantly protecting his village. However, whenever you did reunite it was always memorable. In fact, Gaara would be lying if he didn't count down the days to your arrival. 

He always looked forward to seeing you. He would stand at the gate of his village, waiting for your body to slowly become visible through the winds of the blowing sand. He loved the face you would make when you finally discerned his shape in the distance: your eyes would brighten and a smile would spread rapidly across your face. Even if the journey was long, seeing him waiting there always gave you a burst of energy. You would then squint your eyes to shield them from the sand and run the rest of the distance towards him. 

However, when Gaara spotted your figure in the distance today, you seemed a little tense. In fact, when you spotted him you didn't make that signature facial expression he loved so much or even start running towards him.

Something was off.

He watched you carefully as you got closer and frowned. He lacked a lot of emotional experience with others, but there was no denying that you looked worried.

Seeing you like that made him panic a little bit. Again, Gaara has never been very good with emotions - if anything he relied on you to be the one to help him navigate peoples feelings. So seeing you in such a worried state made him really, well... worried. He didn’t know what to do.

Once you finally arrived face to face at the gate you greeted him with a small smile and he guided you into the village. He gave you a little perplexed look in return before weeding the two of you out of the way of villagers and back towards his apartment.

I should say something, he thought to himself almost awkwardly, but he just didn’t know what. 

Normally you would have started a conversation with him and he would have listened carefully, not saying much himself as he preferred hearing your voice as opposed to his own. However, you didn't seem in the mood to do that today, meaning it was his turn to pick up the slack. 

“Erm- Temari and Kankuro will be happy to see you. Kankuro has been working on a new puppet and he has been dying to show everyone in the village how good it is.” 

You laughed at that, which made his heart warm a bit, but he couldn't help but sense a possible hint of distractedness in your tone. You were gnawing at your nails too - he picked up that it was your nervous habit -  which made him fall back into silence again. 

What am I supposed to say? What do people do in these situations? 

Gaara lead you up to his apartment, knowing that you were tired and usually fell asleep upon arriving at the village.

Typically after you woke up from a nap you two would eat dinner together and then you would really start to catch up on things. You would talk about eventful things that happened on your missions and he would talk about Kank and Temari or some of his own eventful occurrences as the Kazekage in return.

Your naps usually lasted pretty long after your 3 day journey. That would give Gaara just enough time to drop by Temari’s and see if she could assist him with how to deal with this whole situation. She was always the one he fell back on for relationship advice. Deeming Kankuro useless in this field, as he talked more to puppets than to actual human beings.

He opens the door for you upon arriving and remains at the enterance, when you realize he isn’t coming side with you, you turned to look at him. You stared at each other from your respective points in the apartment: him at the door and you just outside his bedroom. 

“Gaara?.. Aren't you coming inside?” 

“...No, I need to, uhm, finish some paperwork. In the meantime you should really take a nap. I’ll be back by the time you wake up.” He said awkardly as he closed the door.

With that, he left you to sleep as he paid his sister a visit, asking her for some needed advice.

Temari was surprised at the visit, it was always very rare for Gaara to ask her for this kind of advice anyway, let alone for him to have a worried look on his face too.

When she lets him inside, he recalls the events that have transpired so far, sitting across from eachother at Temaris dinner table. There was a guide book on Shogi sitting atop the table, which Gaara knew she was reading just to impress a certain Leaf ninja. Anyway, when she caught him staring at it she batted it away embarrassedly and cleared her throat, her face growing hot. There was a moment of silence in the room as she thought about what Gaara had told her. 

“Hm... Well, did you ask her whats wrong?”

“...No.” He realized that would have been an important piece of information to ask.

“Gaara!“

Temari shook her head, but then proceeded to give him a simple rundown of what to do. 

Step one: ask whats wrong

Step two: ask how you can make her feel better 

It seemed so simple when Temari said it, honestly he felt a little embarrassed that he couldn't manage to think of it on his own. He wasnt going to waste anymore time now that he knew what to do though.

As he was leaving Temaris apartment she smiled at him.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that...”

“Oh, its nothing...” she giggled. “Well actually Gaara, you know, going out of your way like this is something people normally do when they care about someone.” Then she closed the door with a cheeky grin, leaving Gaara to blush at the face of a wooden door. 

On his way back to the apartment he thought about what Temari said, going out of your way like this is something people normally do when they care about someone... Of course in his head he always knew he really cared about y/n, but having someone else notice it too really made him stop and think. 

He remembered when he fought Naruto back when the sound village attacked the Leaf. Naruto had opened Gaaras eyes to a lot of important things. He had shown him that you needed to have people important in your life. People that you would fight for and even die for... And for the first time, Gaara realized that y/n ticked all those boxes.

As he arrived back at his apartment, he opened the door quietly, not wanting to wake you up. He could hear your gentle snores as he made his way to your bedroom, holding a medium sized box in his hands.

After leaving Temari’s he had wandered the village a bit, thinking over a few things and clearing his mind, he had passed by your favourite dessert place in his village and figured that it would be a good gesture if he got you something. Afterall, Temari was always so happy when got sweets from anyone.

He opened the bedroom door carefully only to see you curled up on his bed sleeping. It made his heart feel all funny when he seen you sleeping. You looked so calm and fragile. He couldn't really admire it for all that long though because His presence must have alerted you. He watched your eyes open groggily as you sat up.

“Gaara? Is that you?” you asked, letting out a yawn. 

“Yes. I uhm... I got you something.” he placed the white box on the bed next to you. 

 You opened the lid curiously, to reveal your favourite dessert staring back at you. It made you smile widely, as if nothing was wrong in the first place, but in a few seconds the worry crawled back onto your face. This time though, Gaara didn't get discouraged. 

“Something has been bothering you since you got here, y/n. I want to help you, but I can't if you don't tell me whats wrong.”

It was strange seeing him so forward with feelings, but you liked it. In fact it made you feel relieved that you could tell him about your predicament.

“I guess you're right... Well, you see I guess its kind of... A bit silly but I got you a gift a while back. It was so pretty... You see, it was this necklace I found in a village I was passing through for a mission, it was this red gem wrapped around a sort of turquoise wire and it made me think of you instantly. So, I bought it and I was so excited to give it to you I kept taking it out of my backpack to look at it on my way here. Then when I woke up this morning and checked out of the Inn I stayed in, I went to look at it one more time before I arrived and it was gone!” you sighed, falling back onto the pillows. 

“It would have looked perfect on you, Gaara. I just wanted to give you something special for you to remember me by for when Im not visiting. I don't know I guess its kind of a stupid thing to be upset about, but I just can't help it.” You covered your face with your hands. 

There was a dip in the bed and you felt Gaara lay down beside you, causing you to peek at him through your fingers.

He was relieved to say the least, in fact he may have even been smiling a little bit. This was all she was worried about? It wasn’t about anything that he had done, it was just about a necklace!

“Thats all that was worrying you?” He asked as he looked at you with an almost soft expression, he gently removed your hands from your face. 

“You know, y/n, I’m sure the necklace would have been nice, but all that really matters to me is that you're here now and we can spend some time together.” 

He thought about what you said: I just wanted to give you something special for you to remember me by for when Im not visiting. 

“And you don't need to give me anything to remind me of you while you're away because I think about you all the time when you're not here with me.” He blushed a little bit after he said it, but refused to get all shy about it. 

When you heard that, a big smile appeared on your face, the same one that he always saw when you ran towards him at the villages gates. It was a huge relief to see you like this again, it felt as though there was a crack of sunshine in the middle of a storm of dark clouds. He could see the worry and frustration in your face slipping away slowly. 

It made him feel happy, to be able to make you feel better again. He really did care about you.

“Come on then, eat your dessert and then we’ll go see Kankuro. Like I said earlier, he wants to show you his new puppet.”