#but i feel so bad because he works all week in a shitty office job and i have housework but as soon as hes off the clock

[doobea]

ALWAYS BE MY MAYBE ─ MEGUMI F.

synopsis: upon graduating and landing your first job outside of college, you soon realize that being in your twenties suck. outside of working nine hours everyday, setting time for the gym, and making shitty home cooked meals, you have a new stressor joining your team on monday - your ex.

MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST

contents: gn!reader, second chances, office romance, lots of awkward tension, background satosugu, alcohol consumption, company mixers and gossip thrown around word count: 7045 (im sorry) a/n: thank you so much for requesting this @mymegumi !! this is my first time writing for megumi so i hope he isn't too ooc!! :3 this was def one of my fav ones i've received hehe also shout out to @popponn for beta reading this like a champ because wow this was a MESS and shes helped w a lot ;;

Walking into the office on a Monday morning and seeing your ex first thing is something you wouldn’t wish on your enemy. 

To make matters even slightly worse, the team manager announces that he’s going to be the new software engineer on your team and that his assigned seat is, surprise surprise, next to yours. 

So this is how things are going now. 

Things have changed drastically between you and Megumi, having today being your one-year break up anniversary, and you’re still finding your ground here. And, it goes both ways, you suppose. The initial shock on your face was hard to hide and you could’ve sworn Megumi felt like putting in his two week notice the moment you walked through those doors. But you don’t blame him when he excuses himself to the nearest bathroom and you don’t blame him when he spends a suspicious amount of time in there.

“Does the new guy have IBS or something?” Your manager, Satoru Gojo, plops himself down at the corner of your desk, completely ignoring the fact that his ass is resting on the pile of documents that you’re planning to review. He’s wearing his usual black circular lenses inside despite it being not sunny on this cold, gloomy December morning. Gojo thinks he looks cool with them on, definitely not trying to gain a certain regional manager’s attention. He’s also disregarding the fact that you’re squirming uncomfortably in your seat. 

You cough loudly into your fist and manage to shimmy a packet from Gojo’s ass pile, trying to drown yourself in work and not engage in the conversation, knowing full well that Gojo can’t keep his mouth shut if he finds out about your relationship history.

“Maybe it’s just first day nerves,” you shrug back.

“I’m not paying him to take a shit at work,” Gojo huffs back, hands on hips like a mother hen. “There’s some Pepto Bismol in the first aid kit in the break room, go hand him that.”

You sigh, clicking the pen repeatedly in your hands in hopes that your manager gets the hint that you’re busy, but he just repeats it, emphasizing that ‘hey, no need to create a toxic work environment’ and that ‘everyone here is family’. 

“You can’t grab Nobara to do it?” You grumble out.

“I’m talking to you right now, aren’t I?” he replies back before hopping off your desk. Gojo adjusts his tie and smooths out his hair before sending finger guns in your direction. “Make Megumi feel at home and I’ll give everyone an extra five thousand on top of the initial holiday bonus, yeah?”

If there’s anything that Satoru Gojo is good at, outside of drunk whining about his ex, it’s bribing. You’ve been working at this company for just under a year and the amount of times he would throw money out in order to get others to do his responsibilities might be more than you can count but, in hindsight, it’s not a bad trait to have. He’s a good listener, attentive of other’s needs, and not a micromanager. And, while you desperately want to say no, you have to admit that having an extra five thousand bonus does sound incredibly nice.

“Fine,” you give in and push yourself out of the seat. “But that’s all that I’m doing for the rest of the week. I’ve got other things I have to catch up on before the end of the year.”

It’s not a lie. You’ve got meetings with clients scheduled back to back until the last week before Christmas and most of them are being indecisive about their app designs. Though, that’s the normal life of being a graphic web designer on a regular day.

“Yeah?” Gojo briefly glances over your calendar that you have pinned against the wooden cork board in your cubicle and hums in deep thought — which is usually not a good sign. “Y’know what? Megumi should join in on the meetings too.”

“H-Huh?”

“Why are you giving me that look? You give him the designs, he makes it look pretty, and then we have profit.”

“Yeah but,” you gesture your hands towards Toge’s desk behind you, who’s currently hunched over and deep into whatever line of code he’s attempting to fix for a particular picky client. “I’m already partnered up with Toge, I don’t think Megumi needs—”

Gojo enunciates your name, loud and slow, tilting his glasses down so you can see the intense blue of his eyes. “Can’t you see I’m trying to hook you up, right now?”

Oh god, so this is why he’s being so persistent.

You heave out another sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration and embarrassment. “Gojo, are you self projecting right now?” You swear he always does this.

“Am not!” Gojo quickly shoots back with crossed arms. “You look like you haven’t gotten laid in a while and I’d figure I play office cupid with you and the new guy!” Then, a small pause followed by a loud Teams’ message notification comes from his phone. You don’t need to guess who sent it judging by Gojo’s exasperated gasp. “Inumaki, please focus on your tasks instead of listening in on people’s conversations!”

Ping!

DESIGN TEAM - SUB GC [Toge Inumaki]: gojo needs to get laid lolol [Maki Zen’in]: say it louder for the ppl in the back

Gojo manages out another grumpy sound, more a whine than anything else; your grin widens and pat him on the shoulder.

“Pepto Bismol, right?” You snort.

“He’s still going to join—” Gojo starts to respond, but then gets cut off by another notification, and gives up. “Ack—whatever! Just make sure you look after him today, alright? Me and Suguru are going to plan for the holiday party for the rest of the day, so no interruptions!” He announces the last part louder than the rest, staring down at everyone else on the office floor. Gojo is met with a couple of weak ‘yeah, sure, have fun, bud’ before turning his attention back to you. He says the next part in a hush whisper, “Gonna increase it to ten thousand, you spend too much time at work anyway.”

You roll your eyes, nodding away just to agree and end the dreaded topic. “Aye, aye, captain.”

Then, Gojo has the audacity to drink some of your morning tea and sighs, content and relaxed as he’ll ever be, before strutting to the otherside of the floor and into Geto’s office. You and the others are pretty sure they have a secret room connected in there. No one’s ever been able to go inside Geto’s office without a special lock pad code. Something about protecting the company’s patented secrets or whatever. Doesn’t help the allegations that only Gojo has access to said special code.

Ping!

You look at your computer and see that Toge had sent you a private message. 

[Toge Inumaki]: u actually gonna flirt w the new guy?

You glare at Toge, who’s now flashing you a knowing smirk underneath the turtleneck that extends over his mouth. You know he’s celebrating inwardly because, yeah, you see that little glimmer in Toge’s eyes that indicates that he does know your dirty little office secret. How do you know this for a fact? Toge always looks up everyone’s personal and employment history.

It’s always the quiet ones who are freaks.

“No way,” you reply, probably with even more indignation than Gojo, if that’s even possible. “Also, keep the info on the down low and I’ll share some of my bonus with you, please?” If you’re going to survive this job, you might as well steal some of your manager’s tactics.

Without any opposition, Toge sends you a thumbs up.

This is going to be an interesting year.

“You’re making it so not obvious,” Maki starts, sarcastically, as she refills her liter sized tumbler by the company’s only fancy coffee machine. It’s also the only functional one on the floor and Geto claims that it’s worth more than your entire yearly salary. What an absurd purchase but everyone abuses the shit out of it, so you guess it’s worth the price. 

You stick out your tongue in disgust as you watch her put five shots of espresso into the container and wonder how the hell is her body still functioning correctly. “You could’ve at least told me that he applied for the job, y’know?”

“And what? How was I supposed to know he was going to be on our team? Were you going to look for a new job just because he got it?” Maki shoots you an unimpressed look and totally catches the way you chew your lips as your fingers twitch at your sides. “Listen, as your friend and his cousin, I’m not really sure all the details that went down but I know that Megumi isn’t out to hurt you — you should know that too.”

“I do know that,” you angrily place down your mug underneath the machine, firmly pressing the cappuccino option on the touch screen. “We just… didn’t really talk after he had to move, like at all.” You frown.

Maki leans against the break room counter and sips her beverage. “Mind running it back to me again?” 

“It’s long, Maki,” you try to deflect, “Trauma dumping first thing in the morning is rather—”

Ping!

[Satoru Gojo]: did ya hand him the anti poop meds yet? 

“Wait, give me a second, gotta reply to…”

Maki laughs. “All good, take your time.”

[You]: not yet, getting coffee [Satoru Gojo]: losing employee of the month status as we speak  [You]: u being deadass rn [Satoru Gojo]: you wished your ass was getting aidhwkakha 

The sudden keyboard smash and offline status change is enough to lose your interest in the conversation. A chill runs down your spine at the immediate imagination of your supervisors getting it on with each other. As a small distraction, your eyes begin shifting focus around the break room before settling on the small first aid kit in the corner. And now you’re reminded again of the side mission that somehow became a main mission in your twenties’ story line. 

Handing your ex bowel medicine was not part of your bingo card. 

“I’ll talk to you later, Maki,” you release a groan when she laughs again. It’s light hearted, you know that for sure, but it still feels humiliating. 

You round the corner down the hallway leading to the restroom with the neon pink bottle in hand, mumbling to yourself ways to avoid talking to Megumi, before crashing dead on into something, or rather someone, hard. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry—”

“No, it’s my bad, I—”

You regret ever opening your mouth. A heartbeat pause passes before you could gather your thoughts, coherently. You’re pretty sure you have this dumb, gawking, expression plastered over your face because Megumi is doing all that he can to avoid having proper eye contact with you. 

Instead of half expecting him to brush past you, he points at the neon bottle and asks, slowly, with all seriousness, “Is that for you?”

“F-For me?” You look down at the bottle and look up again, feeling warmth in your cheeks from embarrassment and… anger? You hastily shove the bottle into his hands, strongly ignoring the fact that he smells really good for someone who just spent the last half hour in a bathroom. “It’s for you, idiot!” 

For a split second, Megumi looks wildly offended that you would even consider that he needs something like this. You watch as he’s about to give it back to you or, knowing him, throw it away, when suddenly a tuft of pink pokes out from the corner of your eyes.

Yuuji had somehow acquired a ridiculous bright strand of Christmas lights that he’s looped around his neck. He’s got a Santa hat on, also holding an extra pair too, and you want to question where he managed to get the overly festive attire from, and if there’s some sort of weird in-office holiday event that you weren’t invited to. 

“Hey, hey! I was told to bring this over to the new guy!” Yuuji chirps brightly and stops in his tracks when he sees Megumi in front of you. “You must be him!”

“Megumi,” you wince at saying his name finally, pushing aside your previous strained thoughts due to the new company, and run a feverish hand through your hair. “This is Yuuji, he works in our sales department. Yuuji, this is Megumi, he’s part of the design team.” You reply in a sickly-sweet tone. 

“ ‘Sup! How are you?” Yuuji pops the ‘p’ and whistles.

“I’m charmed,” Megumi sighs and stares him down for a moment, before he finally grips the festive hat when Yuuji presents it to him. “Do I have to?”

“Of course!” Yuuji flicks on the switch to his necklace and it nearly blinds your eyes from how bright it was. The festive colors alternate, and there’s a small jingle that plays right after. Talk about a seizure warning. “It’s part of the company’s tradition!”

Megumi breathes through his nose, rolling his eyes. “The company was founded this year.”

“Yeah, starting today, it’s a company tradition,” Yuuji corrects. 

“Starting today, I’ll write up my notice,” he grumbles, only audible to you. 

You have to admit, you appreciate the dry sarcasm. There’s no denying that Megumi looks like he’s a second away from quitting all within the first two hours of his first day. But, as you noted earlier, you don’t blame him. 

“You guys are coming to the end of the year party, right?” Yuuji snaps a quick selfie with the three of you in it, explaining something about posting on the company’s Instagram story reels and gaining clout. Though, you’re pretty sure that only Yuuji was smiling in the photo.

“I was actually planning on staying home,” you answer sheepishly, not wanting to give away the obvious reason.

Yuuji frowns and immediately pulls out his signature puppy dog eyes. “Aww, wait really? You seemed so excited for it earlier last week.”

You’re shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t—”

“Yuh huh,” Yuuji fishes out his phone to pull up the fucking group chat receipts, showing it to both you and a perplexed Megumi. “You said you went out and bought an ugly Christmas sweater the next day!”

“It was a joke!”

Yuuji pulls up a photo of you in said ugly Christmas sweater. You die a little on the inside.

“You’re wearing it right here, though!”

“Yuu—” 

“A joke, huh,” Megumi kicks the bottom of his loafers against the floor, shoving the red hat deep into his pants’ pocket, before excusing himself, again. He holds up the pink bottle and turns around, back towards the restrooms. “Turns out I’ll be needing this, thanks.” There’s a hint of malice oozing from the last word, one that you pick up quite easily while Yuuji looks around confused. 

“So Gojo wasn’t overreacting about the IBS thing…” Yuuji muses.

It’s now midday and a total of less than thirty words have been exchanged so far between you and Megumi. You two have been working in silence for the past hour at the cubicles and you’re beginning to feel awfully guilty about the earlier exchange. 

It wasn’t your intention to make him feel unwelcomed. Maybe you’re thinking too deeply into this than needed?

“Are you feeling okay?” You arch a brow, pulling your eyes away from your monitor for a moment to look at Megumi. Megumi stops typing and makes a small appreciative sound, nodding quickly enough. You know better though, whenever he has a far off look on his face, that his mind’s a mess. 

“Yeah,” Megumi tries to sound casual as he goes back to coding. “This is probably not easy for you either, right?” He lets an ear bud dangle from his side.

“That noticeable?” You let out a short laugh, knowing that you both know each other still pretty fucking well. “It’s just… been a year, you know? Haven’t seen much of you since you moved.” You’re waiting for him to take the bait as you have your suspicions, and you don’t voice them, but you swear, just for a moment, there’s a strange expression on Megumi’s face. Then, you blink, and maybe you’ve imagined it all, because his face goes back to looking as stoic as he always did.

“I’m,” he pauses his fingers, sinking back into his seat, eyes downcasted. “I’m sorry. I know I should’ve called you, at least.”

“I was worried sick like crazy,” you suddenly admit, the words seemingly flowing out at this point. “Was almost debating calling the missing person’s hotline until the mailman, of all people, told me that your family packed up and dipped.”

Megumi isn’t the most expressive person when it comes to apologies, having an already wildly unconventional childhood was enough to shell himself out from everyone else. Though, it’s hard to deny that he should’ve and could’ve done something earlier. 

Megumi chews methodically down on his lips. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”

You nod slowly, making note of the way his voice strained, and face back to your monitors. “It’s fine, I probably shouldn’t have brought it up at work,” a pause and then you continue, “Also, I’m sorry about acting like you’re the plague, too. It’s just—people don’t normally work with their ex’s, you know?” You whisper.

He sighs, there’s a finality to it, and puts back his ear bud. “Mhm, I don’t want to think about it.”

Yeah. It’s stupid. It’s stupid and somehow it really sucks, too. You’re absentmindedly nodding and maybe, you think, there’s a quick flicker of that same unnamed emotion you keep noticing from Megumi, one that somehow forces your stomach to twist up, making your insides all confused. 

“Okay, that’s fair enough,” you say, and you forget about it, at least for now.

After a few days, working with Megumi is like clockwork. 

Greetings are short and brief or none at all. If he needed something, he would contact Toge or Maki since they’re the ones supposed to be in charge of him. If he ever needed to grab something from you… well it’ll just be exchanged via email or the work group chat — nothing ever in person. Which you’re happy that you’re both on the same page. Also, thank god for Zoom Meetings having a recording option. There was no way in actual hell you were going to sit through a two hour long call with your ex sitting across from you.

It’s halfway through the work week and nearing the end of the day. You’ve successfully got off the call with a client and just sent over the finalized web design to the rest of the team. 

Yuki Tsukumo, a self-made billionaire, reached out to the company three months back regarding a new app launch she had in mind. Ironically for you, it’s a dating app specifically designed for second chances and heartbreaks. Did you mentally suffer a couple of breakdowns from this? Of course.

Are you going to suffer another one because Gojo is currently ordering a last minute meeting with you and Megumi in a conference room? Yeah.

“What the fuck,” you say, intelligently. “Are you—are you crying?”

“W-What makes you think that,” Gojo sneezes into an already damp tissue. He’s got a stupid Christmas-themed sweater on, even got a themed set of earrings in, too. A little necklace with red and white candy cane beads hangs from his neck, and he’s got a dumb temporary reindeer tattoo on his cheek. Gojo is so themed that it’s almost disgusting. “Why would I—why would I—” and he bursts into tears.

You outwardly groan and Megumi stays quiet but makes his annoyance evident with a deep furrow of his brows. You do not like where this is going. Gojo breaking down combined with Geto suddenly taking off only means that—

“You want us to take over the planning.” Megumi concludes in a flat tone.

“F-For the party—yes,” Gojo hiccups and, fuck, is he also drunk on the job right now?

“Did you and Geto have a fight again?” You deadpan. 

“No.” Gojo frowns, going cross eyed. It’s not adorable at all, completely different from how he usually depicts himself to the rest of the office, which is why both you and Megumi stealthily slip out your phones and snap a quick picture… for blackmail purposes. “I-I was just…”

“We’ll do it,” you actually didn’t want to know the details, but you are slightly amused by how things turned out the way they did. “So, why are you drunk?”

Gojo opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. “ ‘m not drunk enough to tell you the whole story,” he gravely replies.

Megumi scoffs as he graciously gets out of his seat. “Well, if that’s all then I’m going back to my desk.”

And, of course, in the end it comes down to Megumi fucking Fushiguro being your co-assistant to organizing the biggest end of the year dinner celebration. A ten thousand bonus is on the line and you could really use a long vacation afterwards. 

Gojo sends you to a file containing the event plans that they’ve completed so far and what’s missing. Food has already been covered, Gojo has a fancy restaurant catering information listed down, one he raves constantly about their tiramisu. Below that Geto makes a brief comment about needing an after party reservation at any local bar. Holiday decor still needs to be ordered and a DJ still needs to be booked. Not to mention setting up the office, organizing activities, creating and sending out emails to every—

“I’ll handle coordinating with the vendors, you can focus on the internal tasks.”

You blink. “What?”

He blinks in return. “What do you mean ‘what’?”

And, when you don’t say anything back, he continues.

“I’ll stay out of your way,” Megumi has his back turned to you. He’s unable to catch your slight frown. Those words should be a good sign. The less contact, the better. But hearing it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably, and you find yourself casting around for something to say back. 

You try to open your mouth to speak, but it’s a bunch of gibberish, nonsense syllables, the only recognizable word being a bleary, “together”. 

“Together?”

“We can work on it together,” you rephrased it more clearly.

Megumi tenses his shoulders and whips his head around, holding a slight sneer, though you aren’t sure if it’s meant for you or just towards the odd situation. “We are, that’s why I’m splitting the responsibilities up.”

“No, I mean like—”

“You don’t have to force anything.” Megumi says, running fingers through his unkempt hair. “I don’t want to make things more awkward than they already are.”

Of course, that sets you off a bit uneasily. You look around in the office and, once you realize that it’s just the two of you, you pull Megumi by his sleeves and find the nearest empty conference room. 

“You look upset,” you huff, completely ignoring the way he’s pouting. 

“I’m not upset,” Megumi shoots back, but his words are far too quick, a little bit heated, and he flushes instantly. He knows that he’s not fooling anyone, especially you.

You sigh, leaning your back against the wall next to the door. “Maybe not to others,” you begin, “I don’t want to sound like an ass but…” and you instinctively cringe when you think back to Gojo’s words from the beginning, “We have to work together for this project, at least.”

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” Megumi confesses, and you see the weight coming off of his shoulders as he says it. It sounded like he wasn’t planning on bringing this up at all, but the words are soon tumbling out. “Just… trying to get out of your way, you know? I still kinda need time to process everything.”

“Ah,” you’re looking down at your shoes, suddenly feeling… shy? Confused? You're watching him out of the corner of your eye. 

Megumi breathes out a long sigh, fixes the wrinkles in his sleeves, and leans forward, brushing shoulders with you as he reaches for the handle. “I’ll cooperate,” he forces out.

“Megumi,” you say quietly, and you’re watching his knuckles turn white as he grips the knob just a bit too tightly. “Let’s just start over, okay?”

He frowns, and he masks it after a moment, you know how to get him stirring in his emotions, because the thought appears to give him a pause. Megumi’s eyes widen a bit, and he’s back to chewing his lip, a bad habit he’s always had, before smoothing out again.

“That’s complicated, you know that,” Megumi says finally. 

You have no right to judge his answer, considering that you also played along in this weird tip-toe dance that you’ve both set. But is it really that complicated? Sure, you’re still pissed about what transpired during the relationship and ‘break up’, if you even want to call it that, but how long are you going to pretend that he’s not an important figure in your life?

“Life is complicated,” you stare into his eyes. “So work with me here, Megumi.”

You begin to feel better when you check off the final bullet point on Gojo’s ridiculously long event planner. Miraculously, the two of you manage to have everything prepared before the end of the month, even if it means working slight overtime together. Not that either of you had minded, it seemed after that conversation, there’s been less tension. You’re both trying to move on from the past and that’s the part of growing up, like it or not, and things don’t really fall neatly in place anymore. 

So, when you get to the restaurant, you realize something real fast.

The seating arrangements are absolutely staged. 

It’s a small izakaya, so the price to rent the whole place out wasn’t as expensive as some of the places Gojo had listed down as recs in the previous email but, because of its limited space, you knew it was going to be a tight squeeze for all twenty of you guys.

For starters, it was apparent from the moment you sat down that no one wanted to sit next to you. You were wondering if it had to do anything with your body odor before noting two very important things — one, Megumi was going to be the last one to arrive because he’s picking up the cake and two, everyone was staring intently when he entered the restaurant and had no choice but to sit next to you. You were trying so hard not to get distracted but the scent of his familiar cologne and the proximity of his body heat traveled to the forefront of your mind.

Three shots of tequila followed by five lemon drops later and both of your supervisors have disappeared from the dinner table. You vaguely make out a trail of unraveled ties and belts down the restaurant’s bathroom hallway in the corner, no surprise guessing what your bosses are doing — hint, it’s probably with each other. Aside from that, you’re currently trying not to let yourself get distracted by the obvious questions that your other coworkers are currently throwing to you and Megumi.

“We heard from a little birdie that you two are ex’s?” Todo throws the fucking rock out there. 

Everyone is either currently drunk or getting to the point of being tipsy. One look at Toge and he has the word ‘culprit’ written all over his smug, redden face. You’d imagine that he told everyone at the table about it when you and Megumi excused yourselves to the restroom separately earlier in the night. Mai is giggling up a storm and Yuuji looks like he’s one sip away from making weird hand puppets of you two kissing. Maybe it’s hypocritical on your part, but you don’t get why they’re making such a big deal out of it. It’s not like you and Megumi are actually making the work environment uncomfortable and it’s also not like you guys are getting back together by seeing each other every day… right?

But you have to wonder, vaguely, when your body’s going to stop doing that weird, fluttering thing it does every time Megumi does look at you. You almost spill your drink everywhere when you catch his eyes again and mutter a string of curses under your breath, forcing your attention back to actually doing some damage control before it gets out of hand. 

The only way to stop them from spreading unnecessary rumors is to own up to it. The more you deny, the more relentless teasing you’ll receive. Both you and Megumi drain a shot of tequila for the sake of courage before answering Todo’s unwarranted question.

“Yes.”

“No.”

You stare at each other in disbelief before switching your answers in a panic. 

“No!”

“Yes!”

Yuuji starts nervously laughing and scratches his cheek. “Uh, guys…”

“We’re not—”

“We broke up—”

“You gonna take him out on a date?” Todo digs into his food, eyes never leaving the two of you. For some reason, you think he’s enjoying this a bit too much.

Megumi seems to pick up on this and groans. “I’m going outside for a bit,” he removes himself from his seat and pointedly avoids all the disappointed drunk mumblings from his coworkers as he makes a beeline towards the entrance with his coat in hand.

Okay, yeah, he’s smart for not falling for that. You, on the other hand, start pawing at your lap. 

“We’re not dating,” you correct Todo, and basically everyone at the table.

“What if… he thinks you’re dating and you don’t?” Yuuji slurs his words, half of his body is basically leaning against the tabletop.

You highly doubt anything you’ve done together would be considered date worthy. You’re pretty sure Megumi feels the same way and everything is exaggerated at this point. Suddenly, you feel really out of your element here, and this burst of anxiety, one that leaves you squirming in your seat, has you itching for fresh air.

“I’ll be right back,” you quickly excuse yourself, grabbing your belongings along.

It didn’t take you long to find him. Megumi is standing off to the side underneath the building’s overhang, eyes glued to the road, silently watching the first snowfall of the month before taking notice of your presence. He flashes you a soft nod and scoots a little to the left, inviting you into his space, which you end up taking.

“When are you planning to leave?” Megumi asks. His face is flushed at this point, the first couple of buttons of his collared shirt are open, and his sleeves are rolled up. He’s got his jacket tossed across his shoulder and, you soon realize, that your ex looks stupidly mesmerizing under the shitty neon lights outside the restaurant. 

The answer had been “in about ten minutes” but somewhere between your brain and mouth, the words had taken a detour to Megumi’s long lashes, because instead you say, “Whenever you leave, I guess.”

It’s not like you actually have plans after this anyway. Your apartment might need a deep holiday cleaning after wasting the last couple of weeks working overtime, and you might need to pay the grocery store a little visit to actually start cooking yourself a healthy meal, but that can all wait. 

Megumi makes a strange straggled noise at your response and hides his surprise through a long sigh, “So…” 

You cock a brow. “So?” You echo back.

Another sigh from Megumi and he finally floods out his words. “The next train arrives in fifteen, we can both make it if you’re fine with leaving now.”

It’s a rare invitation and, despite the initial tension, there’s no way in hell that both of you are letting this opportunity go. 

You say yes in an instant, fixing your winter coat around your body and doing a quick three-second check to see if you have everything only to notice that your phone is missing.

“Oh, um—”

“I’ve got it right here,” Megumi fishes out your phone from his pocket and hands it over. “Figured that you would’ve accidentally left it behind.”

For a moment, you wonder if you’re on one of those hidden camera shows. But the look that Megumi gives you, the look that you’re all too familiar with a year ago, it’s there written all over his face. You realize that you are, fortunately, not on a reality show — the alcohol and snow might be paid actors — and your ex, tipsy and but wildly attentive towards you, is completely still infatuated.

You take it without questioning. When you check the phone battery, it doesn’t surprise you to see it almost fully charged too. He’s always been the worry wart, even if he doesn’t show it half the time. 

“Gojo recommended this new book series to me,” Megumi says with a small grin, changing the topic. You’re grateful for that, slightly. Even though you can’t quite meet his eyes, your gaze lingers on the way his hand is idly tugging at a loose thread on his shirt, or the way that he’s subtly kicking at the growing pile of snow in the corner, like he can’t stay still. It’s endearing, and you’re left wondering what’s actually going through his mind outside of all things surface level.

You find yourself mimicking his smile, already knowing what might come next. “Bet it’s either a series about friendship and adventure or the nastiest smut he could find in the romance section.” You reply, rolling your eyes. 

Megumi lets out a choked laugh, and almost drops his coat. You hide a giggle of your own. “Not anything like that, but I wouldn’t be surprised.” Megumi momentarily eyes you, but then reaches for his phone, pulling it out and thumbs the title ‘Sorcery Fight’ into the search bar. Tons of images pop up, many featuring fanart of who you assumed to be the main character — white hair, wears a blindfold, oddly charismatic in its character description — wait, this all sounds oddly fishy. 

“Another self projection?” You realize, instantly. 

“Maybe,” Megumi agrees before shifting his weight around, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Did you want to check it out tomorrow…?” He briefly makes eye contact and diverts his attention back to his phone. “If you’re free, that is.” He quickly adds.

You pretend to be in deep thought for a moment, leaving Megumi wondering if he said something he shouldn’t have, because the look on his face screams ‘oh god, have I gone too far’ under all of his aloof persona. 

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll be free.”

Almost uncharacteristically, Megumi lets out a, “Fuck you,” and that seems like the wittiest response in the world, in that moment. 

It descends you into a full on giggling fit, and Megumi can’t help it, your laughter is contagious, and now you’re both giggling, on the verge of leaning against each other helplessly as the winter air is howling rough and bitter around. It’s a damn good thing that the alcohol is still running through your veins, giving you both that hot feeling of dumb immortality. 

“Let’s go catch that train,” he looks forward but extends a hand towards you, when you firmly clasp around his fingers, the slightest shade of red coats his cheeks and you’re positive it wasn’t from the weather. 

Of course, Megumi ends up at your apartment after you decided at the last minute to pick up crappy, greasy takeout food on the way back at nearly one in the morning. The buzz from the drinks have worn off, but you find yourself slowly gaining confidence scooting besides Megumi as both of you take a seat on the carpeted floor in front of your incredibly dusty coffee table. It’s covered in finger smudges and scratches from all the other previous nights of takeout meals and accidental bumps. You pray that Megumi doesn’t point them out, but a part of you is glad when he wordlessly starts cleaning some of the spots away. 

Kinda feels like the old times, you think.

“You ever think that we’re the ones who can’t see what’s going on?” You ask during an opening scene to a British comedian podcast show. It’s a news channel that Megumi likes to watch sometimes, despite not believing half of whatever that’s being reported. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could’ve sworn Megumi’s cheeks are flushing, but it’s hard to tell in the dark.

It’s the takeout food talking. The fries and milkshake combo is making your stomach do weird little flips—or maybe it was from Megumi being close? 

You tip your head back, looking out your window, because the thought of looking at Megumi is… hard right now. It makes your heart tight, your throat dry. You’re wondering if he’s even going to show up at your door the next morning, or if you’ll see him the next work day and he’ll make a passing comment about how dumb everything was. Hell, would you even remember this tomorrow with how late it’s getting?

“I’m pretty sure we’re the ones who know what’s up,” Megumi replies, but the words sound hollow, coming from his lips.

“Maybe,” you say, quickly, and the laughter you force out carries the same empty sound that his voice did. “Next time, we should probably have a drink limit to keep them from chatting their asses off.”

“Or never letting them drink again,” Megumi agrees, somewhat, before stealing a piece of fry from your plate.

You hum before testing the waters and letting half of your body go slack against his shoulders. Everything is experimental at this point, so you’re glad when he doesn’t push you away, instead, Megumi leans into your touch, just a little.  

“How’s your family? Are they well?” He asks over a news segment. It’s about a modern urban legend, sort of like Bigfoot, but it’s just a guy cohabiting with a giant crocodile. This makes Megumi laugh. 

“They are! Parents finally retired so now it’s just me working while they’re relaxing at home.” You let the story wrap up before firing back the same question. “And you?”

“Dad’s still working overseas,” Megumi says with a slight frown. 

He’s never really talked about his father, even when you two were together, all you know is that it’s been a complicated relationship since his mother passed away when he was young. His father tried his best raising him all on his own while balancing work, though half of the time Megumi rarely saw him growing up. There’s a bit of resentment, you think, it’s understandable but you can also tell Megumi still holds him high to a certain degree. 

“You guys have been talking more though, right?” You vaguely recall a faded memory. 

To this, Megumi smiles fondly. “Yeah, we have. Once a month, if he’s not terribly caught up with whatever he’s doing.” 

Turns out neither of you have figured out his father’s occupation, which might be for the better. Megumi thinks it’s gang related, and doesn't give it too much thought as long as his father is safe. You, on the other hand, have thought of it being related to overseas construction work, something less… imaginative and dangerous.

“I’m glad to hear that, and also glad you’re doing well for yourself.” 

“Yeah,” and Megumi shifts a bit to get a better look at you. There’s fondness in his eyes that steels you to sit up a bit straighter. “I could say the same thing for you.”

“Well, my apartment could use a bit more loving,” you laugh, “It’s a bit hard to manage everything sometimes.”

“Maybe I can help?” Megumi says this with a straight face and you’re wondering if somehow the apple juice with his takeout order is somehow spiked with hard cider. 

When somehow you didn’t pick up a hint of alcohol from his breath, from how close you’re sitting against him, you choke on your saliva. “You’re serious about that, Megumi?”

“What? Don’t believe me?”

“No,” you say the words instantly, far too quickly, and feel the immediate warmth spreading to your cheeks, even if you’re trying to look cool and collected. 

“Well,” Megumi tips his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “It’s getting late,” he points out.

You glance at your wall clock and, sure enough, it’s three in the morning. You weren’t tired before but, somehow with him pointing it out, your eyes start to grow heavy. You’re grateful for the distraction and you think you just want Megumi to go away, but you know the second he does, you’re going to be obsessing over this conversation. Over the implications, the unsaid words between the fine lines, and well… just about everything that’s been there and been overcomplicated. And maybe Megumi is taking pity on you because he shifts his gaze to your face before settling a firm grip on both of your shoulders.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Megumi scoots a little closer, and you have a moment of panic. Then, you realize that he’s silently asking for permission to lift you up. “Are you planning to sleep out here?” 

“Are you leaving right after?” You catch yourself staring at him, a bit too longing, and jerk your head down but he catches your chin, before you can fully pull yourself away. 

“No, I’m staying,” he breathes out, his voice a low rumble in your ears. “Is that fine?”

You weren’t expecting that particular answer. You slowly lift your head away, gently freeing yourself from his touch, but staying close enough to nudge your shoulder up against his. Megumi is trying—he’s trying really hard to be open and you feel like your nerves are raging in your body again, although this time, it’s not an entirely uncomfortable feeling.

“I would like that,” Megumi smiles at that, and he lets you lean a head on his shoulder while he slips an arm around your waist, pulling your sleepy figure up, and both of you slip into a comfortable silence. 

© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.

TAGLIST: @hellothere9597 @sad-darksoul

#doobea writing #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #satosugu #but more in the background lol #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x gn!reader

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART FOUR

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: after the traumatic night you were doing your best to keep things to yourself, but when a co-worker begins to bother you, you make a decision that brings consequences no one imagine and now it's Javier's turn to take your side, despite the bad situation involving the two of you

Warnings: angst, hurt, mentions of smut, kind of unrequited love, sexual harassment, violence, verbal abuse like a lot of verbal abuse, physical abuse, protective Javier, this one is heavy sorry

A/N: Idk I was so invested in this chapter because reader is me (us) and I love the drama

• PART ONE

• PART TWO

• PART THREE

3.6k words

The reflection that stared back at Javier in the mirror disgusted him to no end. 

He hated every single detail about it, its looks, its attitude, its job, its shitty choices. 

Javier Peña hated himself.

He was a low life, he knew that and never actually hid it, but to know you now, not only knew for a fact he was one, but told him to his face made it everything worse. 

He wasn't a hypocrite, he knew you were right, he was never going to try to convince you otherwise, there was no mistake, no misinterpretation in the world that could somehow lessen what he'd done to you. 

He'd ghosted you, ignored you, been cold, rude, he'd complained about how well you treated him, even if that was the only good thing he had in his life. The kindness he received from you without expecting anything in return was something he should've refused but he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

And he knew he should've kept to himself the moment you refused his flirting. That was what he did to the very few women who refused him, but he just couldn't resist. 

The way you laughed softly and bit your lips, an adorable pink spreading on your beautiful face as you leaned closer and watched him up and down. 

"If it weren't for the heartbreak I still got, I'd be under you right now" you chuckled "and then I'd be on top of you and if you really played your cards right, I'd be on my hands and knees" you burst out laughing, sipping the drink he'd paid you and looking down in embarrassment. 

That was your first ever interaction outside the office and after you were bluntly honest with him, he wasn't able to let you go. 

You were too good, too pretty, too funny and too damn sexy. 

After that, he promised himself he wouldn't let you get hurt, but he couldn't stay away. Each time your face lit up when he said something about your nails, or how you smiled when he called you a pet name and the next thing Javier leaving small gifts on your desk. 

It was stupid, he felt so dumb when you arrived at work and saw the small chocolates, or the flowers, but the moment you smiled at him and rushed to his desk to thank him, it made it all worth it. 

Then you began hanging out on the weekends too, at first it was a shy restaurant recommendation, that quickly turned into a ride to the restaurant and that evolved into lunch or dinner together. 

During the week, the smell of food coming from your apartment was tempting, and though Javi salivated just to picture how good it would be to have some homemade food again, he was too embarrassed to knock on your door and ask for a plate. 

As if you'd read his mind you knocked on his door, offering some and that became a habit. 

You were right when you rubbed on his face he enjoyed being treated like your boyfriend, he really did. That way he could be near you and daydream about how things could be if he were a different man. 

He never meant to hurt you, but he began hurting you by letting you in, by not pushing you away when he had the opportunity to do so. He knew you, he knew you were past the relationship feelings a long time ago, maybe you didn't tell yourself that, but he could tell you liked him in a way it was fair to you, because he liked you just as much, though it took him some time to bring himself to admit it himself he was in love. 

But nothing good ever came from that. 

Even the times Javier was actually in love, it faded as quick as it started. He was a guy that had passions, but they never lasted. So he couldn't do that to you. He couldn't let you think you two could be together knowing some day he would probably wake up and see his feelings for you had changed, while you were stuck in love with someone who didn't deserve you. 

He couldn't be like your ex, he hated that motherfucker with passion. Since the first time you mentioned your heartbreak, under all the amusement he felt at your words, he also felt a hint of anger. He didn't understand how a man could hurt a woman like you. 

You'd never told him exactly what had happened, and he never asked. It was pretty simple to him: if you wanted Javier to know, you'd tell him eventually. 

Of course he couldn't help wondering what he'd done to you. Several times Javi lay on his bed thinking of your past relationship. He assumed the guy had cheated, that was a real good reason for someone to become brokenhearted but he had a feeling that it could be more than that. Maybe he'd got someone else pregnant? It was one of the theories Javi came up with. 

When Steve had one drink after the other after work the day he actually got his shit back together after crying over Connie for weeks, he got tipsy and talkative, and he blabbered everything you'd confided in him. 

You'd been left at the altar by your fiance. 

You'd been left in front of everybody, family, friends, co-workers, while wearing a beautiful wedding dress that you picked so carefully, in order to make that day perfect in every way.

Your fiance had publicly humiliated you just like Javier did with fiancee a decade prior. 

Javier hated your ex with passion for what he did to you, and he hated himself even more to know that in a way, he was also that guy. 

He had to try and stop you from getting even more hurt by being around him, but just like everything in life, he screwed things up. 

When you woke up the morning after that horrible night, you wanted to disappear. You groaned as a pounding headache reminded you constantly of your very poor choices the night before and you closed your eyes wishing as hard as you could that what had happened would be just an awful nightmare and nothing more. 

But you needed to face reality. 

But reality could wait a little, so you spent the weekend locked in your apartment, literally playing dead, not wanting to see anyone as you thought about everything you were doing in life, you were so tired of that situation, tired of Javier, tired of your feelings for him. You were also tired of what was about to come, you just wished your heart would stop aching like it did. 

When Monday came, you ignored everyone and did your job. You went out for lunch on your own and returned for another shift of not making visual contact with anyone and praying that lump in your throat that suffocated you would go away. 

Javier and Murphy kept their voices low, so you didn't distinguish what they talked about, eventually you felt their gaze on you, which you also ignored. 

Steve looked around nervously at Javier who just looked away, avoiding you as much as you did him, but continued walking towards your desk, stopping right in front of it and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Um… Y/N?" Murphy smiled nervously "Javi and I left some reports with you last week because you were helping us with it and Messina wants them… where are they?" 

You bit your lips at the urgent need of bursting out laughing at his face. 

After everything they'd done, Steve had blabbered about your personal life and Javier… well, you didn't even like to remember it, they still wanted you to do their job? 

You thought of many ways you could snap in front of them, make a scandal and have the entire office's attention on them, but you quickly gave up, instead, you raised your head with a sweet smile

"Oh sorry Steve, I forgot them at home, but they'll be here first thing in the morning" you assured them. 

When both Javier and Murphy got to work the next day they found a huge pile of unfinished documents to fill. They looked at each other in confusion but what you'd done quickly sank in. For one second, they were both naive to the point of actually believing you would help them do their job after what happened. 

                              •••

Three weeks had passed since the Javier incident and you'd never been more isolated from everyone. As Javi used to be your favorite person to hang out, you still talked to Steve and Connie, and some other people from the office, but you ended up distancing yourself and they didn't seem to be too eager to get your company, so it was not like they missed you.

Steve was still single, going to bars almost every night but also managing to be a functional drunk by day and work as a cop.

As for Javier you didn't know and you didn't care, sometimes you could smell coffee coming from his apartment, or cooking oil, which meant he was probably making himself some french fries. He loved them just like the man child he was. 

You also didn't hear any commotion from his place, which meant whoever he was fucking was being silent. 

You missed him on a daily basis, everything reminded you of Javi and sometimes it even took you some time to process you weren't friends anymore when you saw something nice or funny and wanted to show him. 

But at the same time, you also felt proud of yourself for working on your emotional detachment from him. The first few days you thought it was impossible to be away from him, but you were getting by. 

On the other hand, one consequence of Javi's distance from you was the fact that Carlos took it as an invitation to hit on you. 

He started small, discret, but consistent. At first he just left small chocolates around your desk because he was so pathetic he had to imitate Javier, not being able to come up with an idea on his own.

You always got rid of them by placing them on Steve's desk when he wasn't around which led him to think they were a gift from Colleen. You chuckled to yourself when you heard his theory. You knew the fire was about to spread in that department but you simply didn't care. You wanted them all to fuck off. 

Then Carlos left you post its with several messages. They started humble and innocent, calling you pet names and other stuff, but after a while they started to become spicy, until he left you full, explicit words of what he would like to do with you in that ugly, sloppy handwriting of his. 

You kept them all in your drawer, you knew when the time was right you'd be able to use them in your favor. 

The morning you decided to wear a pencil skirt to work was when everything began going to shit. First, Javier's jaw dropped; he couldn't even pretend he didn't acknowledge your existence anymore. Instead, he just followed you with his eyes all around the office, like an animal and he didn't even care.

His jeans got tighter and he would let Pablo Escobar produce all the cocaine in the world if he could only know if you were wearing panties along that skirt or not. 

The mere idea of you bare under that teasing outfit in your workplace was enough to send shivers down his spine. It was enough to take all his focus away and the only picture in Javier's mind was to have you sitting on his desk, legs spread wide while he had his face buried between your folds. At that moment, he wanted to be nothing but your fuck boy, to make it up to you by fucking you like no other. 

"We gotta go, perv" Murphy interrupted his wet daydreams and reminded him they'd have to go to the streets. 

Carlos took their departure as an invitation to come closer, and as you grabbed yourself a cup of water he slapped your ass. 

"Ay que culo sabroso princesa" he whispered into your ear, without warning and making you spill some of your water. He laughed softly "leaving a wet path for me already?" 

Your blood boiled, if you had access to a gun you knew you would probably shoot that pig in the face, you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs until someone actually put you out of your misery. 

You were so fed up, so tired, so angry with men taking everything from you. Your fiance, Javier, Murphy, Carlos… you felt you couldn't even live your life without having one of them ruining some aspect of it somehow. It stirred something in you and an idea popped into your head. You took a deep breath and controlled yourself again, you were going to make him pay, because if one of them got punished, the others would learn from the lesson. 

You turned to him and smirked. 

"You're all talk and no action. You've been dropping little dirty notes on my desk like a horny teen and made no moves… are you even interested in me?" You batted your eyes at him.

Carlos frowned softly and chuckled.

"I thought you hated me, you went pretty feral when I talked about Peña a while ago, didn't ya?" 

"I did, but Peña is no longer in the picture and I heard hate fucks can be even better than love ones… I haven't tried these yet, but maybe you could help me with that?" You smirked and took his hand writing down the address to a shady hostel known by the cops who investigated downtown. 

"Eight PM. Bring a bottle of wine and a bottle of lube, ya que te gusta mi culo" you whispered and saw the color drain from his ugly, pathetic face. "Nobody will suspect a cop and an assistant carrying out an investigation there, right?" You winked at him and walked away. 

Carlos believed you so easily for a second you though he was the one messing with you, but turns out he was just simply and straight up stupid. 

The next step was easy. 

You excused yourself to mail some documents and on your way back you also mailed the collection of obscene post-its to Carlos' house, where his wife received them. The last one had the time and the address she should go to. 

And the rest was history. 

When morning came, gossip spread through the office like wildfire, thanks to Colleen who heard it from a cop, who heard it from another and by 9AM everyone knew agent Carlos Galindo had been caught red-handed by his wife who immediately pulled out a huge scene dragging attention from the whole block.

There was crying, screaming, slapping, scratching and accusations, and according to Colleen, Mrs.Galindo had kicked him out of home and forbade him from seeing the kids. 

Apparently a mysterious woman had set the whole thing up, and no one knew her identity. 

Though Murphy had a pretty good idea, he shot you a smirk "don't you think it's a whole lotta coincidence Carlos got into this shit now that he'd been harrassing you?" 

ou shrugged and smiled big, it was the first time Javier had seen you smile for real in almost a month and he cursed himself to see his heart skipped a beat.

"Well, I know some men think they can get away with everything, but they gotta learn they can't just play with women as if we were nothing" you accidentally glanced at Javier and he caught your eyes. Shit.

You cleared your throat and hoped you weren't blushed "anyway, whoever did this knew he deserved it" you winked at Steve and went back to work.

You were finishing another report, going over the spelling again to make sure there were no mistakes when a commotion dragged your attention.

You could hear some muffled voices which became loud as someone approached the room. You looked at Javier and Murphy, the three of you confused at what the heck was going on. 

Colleen's voice wasn't much more than a nervous squeak, telling whoever the person that was coming wasn't a good idea. 

And then you saw him. 

Carlos was standing there, fuming, with red blood eyes, looking like he hadn't seen a shower in ages, still with his work uniform and staring at you with a death glare. 

Anyone could see he was clearly out of his mind, but everyone seemed to look at him in a mix of awe and curiosity. 

You thought it was so amusing to see him in that shitty state, but your smile immediately died when you saw him taking some steps towards you. He had a bottle of wine in hands and his lips twitched in an attempt of a smile which turned into a sinister face.

"Buenos días puta" he said "I waited for you last night, but you never showed up, whore. My wife did though and she wasn't happy about it, and I bet my heavy balls you were the cum dumpster slut who called her" he said getting near your desk at the same time Javier stood up, calling Carlos' name in order to draw attention to himself, but he was ignored. 

"I'm such a gentleman I even brought you your bottle of wine, I hope you enjoy it, puta" he said angrily before shattering the bottle against the edge of your desk and spilling wine all over the floor. Carlos' hand immediately yanked a handful of your hair and pulled you against his body, pointing the sharp glass towards your neck. 

Murphy and Javier began trying to talk to him, in order to distract the man and get you safely out of his hands. 

The grip on your hair was painful and though you didn't think Carlos would do it, you couldn't help but being scared. 

"You're nothing but a bitch, a cum dumpster for the guys in the office, you are worthless Y/N, you destroyed my marriage and now you'll pay, you'll s-" 

Carlos was interrupted mid sentence when Javier elbowed his ribs as hard as he could, ignoring completely his police training that was clear when it said the agents should keep calm in a dangerous situation, he just went to action. He didn't give a shit if Murphy wanted to follow the protocol, he wouldn't stand there and watch that motherfucker talk to you like that, let alone try to hurt you. 

Carlos dropped the sharp bottleneck and gasped for air, as you ran away from his grip and didn't know what to do. 

He immediately turned to Javier, all his anger focused on the man, as they began a real dog fight, Carlos threw a few punches at Javier, but he stepped over the spilled wine and fell onto the floor. Peña didn't think twice before kicking him, not caring if he was already down. Carlos managed to stand up even though he struggled and laughed softly as found you pressed against the wall, watching the scene with horror in your eyes. 

"You're scared now? Don't be, malparida. Save your scared look for when I'm fucking all of your tight pretty holes until you are crying and bleeding and whimpering for your manwhore prince charming to save you" he said darkly "I'll do you worse than any Escobar men would" 

Everybody went silent when you heard the click of a gun's safety. Carlos went dead quiet when he felt the cold metal against his neck. 

You could barely believe the scene of Javier standing there, pointing a gun at a fellow cop just to defend you. Murphy also tried to calm the both of them down, but at that moment you felt as if you'd gone deaf. All you could hear was Javier's words. 

"Turn around, Carlos. Turn around nice and slowly" he commanded in a surprisingly calm voice and the disgusting man who had just been making horrible threats looked like a scared stray dog, obeying Javier, he meet his angry eyes.

"Now you listen to me… you will never get near Y/N again, got it? Never!!! You will never step into the same room she's in, you will never call her those things, got it? She's not a puta, she's not a whore, she's not a cum dumpster… You deserved what happened to you and if you make Y/N slightly uncomfortable I'll shoot you in the face" Javi lowered his aim a little, now his gun pointed right between Carlos' eyes. 

"I'll do you worse than Escobar men would"

The man went completely silent as he remained at Javier's gunpoint. 

No matter how many times Murphy and other people that arrived just in time to watch the grotesque scene asked Peña to calm down. He would still hold his gun against Carlos, the waves of rage flowing through his body as he thought of every second of what that animal had done to you. 

His heart was racing with adrenaline and he felt an urge to pull the trigger. 

He just came back to his senses when he felt a soft, warm hand on his arm, looking at it and recognizing the pretty nails done just like he loved observing. 

"Javi… put the gun down please" 

Your voice calling his name after so long of being ignored. He wasn't Peña, he wasn't Javier. He was Javi. He was your Javi again, at least that was what he hoped for. 

He looked at you and saw your scared eyes, finally putting his gun down just like you'd asked for and nodded at you. 

"It's okay, it's over now, cariño, I'm here to protect you" 

_____

A/N: did you guys go soft for Javi now?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier peña angst #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier peña narcos

[bastardmandennis]

pretty when you cry (jonathan levy x fem!reader)

Summary: You don't mind being Jonathan's TA--until he makes a mistake that almost costs you your job, and you decide to confront him about it.

Word Count: 4.9k (i need help)

AO3

Warnings: SMUT, literally pure smut. afab reader, no y/n, lots of pet names, slight power imbalance (professor jonathan/TA reader), crying (sexually and normal), drinking, smoking, asthma/inhalers (loser), men crying begging whimpering etc, slight dom/sub vibes? ish?, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), technically cheating (but imagine mira signed the divorce papers right away and isn't coming back at all, so technically not cheating? iffy), riding, dirty talk, coming untouched, im so bad at tagging things smh if i missed something pls let me know!

A/N: this is extremely niche and self-indulgent (i wrote this mostly for me and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin tbh)--ty for indulging in the professor jonathan brainrot with me!! im so obsessed with this pathetic man. title comes from lana del rey’s song pretty when you cry (for obvious reasons). enjoy! xx

“I came here…I came here because you fucked me!” That gets his attention. He stubs the burning cigarette out on the counter, coughing wildly, eyes wide as he gestures to you in between wheezes. You spot his inhaler on the kitchen island next to you and hand it to him wordlessly. His ring finger is noticeably bare as he wraps his hand around the inhaler. He takes a deep breath, then another, slowly exhaling out into the silent kitchen. “Excuse me?” he says. Your cheeks burn.

After another long shitty day in a long shitty week, all you wanted to do was get home at a reasonable time, maybe have a nice glass of wine and a bath, and not talk to anyone for the next 3-5 business days. Today happened to be the worst day of all–you’d just gotten called into the philosophy department chair’s office, where she scolded you for a mistake in the curriculum.

A mistake that wasn’t even yours.

As a teaching assistant, you usually got stuck with the grunt work that the professor didn’t feel like doing. Last year, for example, you’d gotten stuck working with a man so old he didn’t know where he was half the time. That’s tenure for you.

You thought this year would be different: new year, new professor, new group of anxious overachieving students. And it was different, but not necessarily better.

Because you’d gotten stuck TA-ing for Jonathan Levy, the most handsome, charismatic–and let’s be real, a little absent-minded–professor in the department–maybe even the whole school. 

You slunk out of the department chair’s office, cheeks blazing and heart pounding. One slip-up would’ve been bad enough, but this was technically your last straw. And if you got put on probation, or worse, kicked out, all because of Jonathan, you’d have to find some way to ruin his life in return. Tenure be damned. 

The thing is, he’s not a bad teacher, not at all. He shows up to every class with a big smile, already rambling about the latest topic of the day as he walks into the lecture hall. He’s passionate, if a little disheveled–the stereotypical professor archetype. He clearly loves what he does, and if you hadn’t seen the glint of a wedding band on his hand that first day, well…

But no, he’s off limits personally and professionally. And that made you want him even more. 

The thing is, he’s always so fucking oblivious to your attempts at flirting. Like the day you’d worn a short skirt to class, crossing and uncrossing your legs every time he looked in your direction, and he’d barely even looked at your bare legs. Or the night before Thanksgiving break, when you’d invited him to come out with some of your colleagues for a drink, letting your hand linger on the soft sweater covering his arm, and all he’d done was give you a goofy smile and mentioned wanting to leave early to beat the traffic.

So yeah, he wasn’t a bad guy, but he’s been clearly going through something these past few weeks. His normally rumpled clothes now look extremely disheveled, sometimes showing up two days a row in the same outfit. You’d never seen him look so hopeless, the way he raked his hand through his greying curls and mumbled vague instructions to the class about the test next week.

It wasn’t unusual for him to email you well into the early hours of the morning occasionally, sending a link to some journal he didn’t want to lose, an article he asked you to print out for class the next day. But something about this one lighting up your phone screen at 2am the morning before seemed extra…pathetic.

hey–can you handle class tmrw? not feeling good. attaching test for you. x j

It made you pause, this short misspelled email. You could usually expect a 3 paragraph minimum email from him, including a detailed report about how and why he wouldn’t be there tomorrow. This…this wasn’t right. But when you opened the attached word document with the test, everything looked normal. You had no reason to question it when you printed out the required 150 copies the next morning, when you handed out each one to a hall full of bleary-eyed students, when they shuffled to deposit the tests on your desk on the way out. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, even the next day when you’d left them in Jonathan’s office to grade. (Technically your job, but he liked to take his time writing detailed notes and explanations on why he was marking an answer wrong that you just hadn’t mastered yet.)

And yet, here you were after getting your entire ass handed to you by the department chair. The problem, according to her? Jonathan’s grading of the tests–it was inconsistent, vague, no sense or pattern to which answers he’d marked wrong or why. Enough students had complained–or rather, gotten their parents to complain, fucking trust fund kids–that she decided to investigate. And since it was supposed to be your job to grade tests, as the lowly TA, the punishment fell on your shoulders.

Bullshit.

Cheeks flaming, crumpled test in hand, you march down to Jonathan’s office, ready to semi-professionally rip him a new one for putting you in this position. His office was dark, empty–he rarely showed up to office hours on a good day, let alone with whatever’s been going on with him lately. Coward.

Before you could totally think it through, you reached for your phone and pulled up a new email. 

Where are you right now? Need to talk to you. 

You wait, pacing around the crowded office, not wanting to stop and let your anger fade. If he wasn’t such a control freak, if you’d been able to grade the tests like you were supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. 

A silver picture frame lays face down on the desk, and you pick it up carefully. You’ve seen it before–a picture of Jonathan and his wife Mira on their wedding day. She’s wearing some (objectively hideous) mermaid style gown, but he looks…so good. His hair is slightly shorter in the picture, less grey, a light stubble grazing his jaw instead of the full beard he wears now. His eyes are crinkled as he smiles at her–the same way he looks at you sometimes. You swallow back the sudden nausea and flip the frame back over.

Finally your phone pings with a new message:

home today. can this wait? 

No, it absolutely cannot. 

You’re around the desk and sitting in his scratchy office chair before you realize it, leaning over to type in his computer password (Ava123, of course) and quickly finding his name and address on the department directory. If he didn’t have time to talk to you here, well, you’d show up and make him make time.

It’s quiet as you navigate the backroads to his house, whistling to yourself when it comes into view. There’s his beat-up Subaru in the driveway, so at least he wasn’t lying about being home. You park across the street, letting your car shudder to a stop and marching up to the front door before you can change your mind.

You lay your finger on the doorbell once, then again when there’s no answer. It’s a cute little neighborhood, very quiet. You shiver in the late February air, realizing you left your coat in Jonathan’s office on your way over. Fuck it. You pound your fist against the door, abandoning all sense of subtlety.

Finally you hear signs of life inside–the creak of wooden stairs, a low fuck, shit, when he bangs into something, and he’s talking as he flings open the front door.

“Mira, I said–oh.”

The fight leaves your body immediately upon seeing him. He looks flustered, even more so than usual. You’ve never seen him this casual in a crewneck UMass sweatshirt and grey sweatpants. His socks have little rubber ducks on them. It feels weirdly intimate, like you shouldn’t be seeing him like this right now, this man you’ve never seen in no less than four different layers no matter what time of year.

You clear your suddenly dry throat. “Professor Levy, sorry, I–I have to talk to you. Is this, um, is this a bad time?”

“Bad time?” He chuckles sarcastically, gesturing to his outfit, his wild hair even fluffier than usual. His glasses sit crooked on the end of his nose. “I can’t think of a better time. Come on in.”

After a slight hesitation you do, stepping over various toddler shoes and toys scattered around the entryway. He doesn’t say anything as you follow him to the kitchen, searching through the cluttered drawers for a lighter and a half-opened pack of cigarettes. You didn’t even know he smoked–seems ironic for someone with bad asthma, but you bite your tongue and try not to make a joke to fill the uncomfortable silence. He gestures the pack to you, offering, shrugging when you shake your head. He cracks the back door slightly and inhales deeply, letting the heavy smoke flow out into the night air.

“So,” he says through a cough. “What’s–why are you here? Sorry, that was rude but I’m just a little confused.”

You watch his arms curl around himself, the way his biceps bulge even through his bulky sweatshirt, and suddenly you can’t remember why you’re mad. Oh right, the tests.

“Professor, I just–”

“Jonathan, please,” he quickly says. “You’re in my house, I think you’ve earned the right to be on a first-name basis.”

“Okay. Jonathan.” you begin again. 

You don’t know why you’re suddenly nervous–you’ve had so many conversations with him before, able to go toe-to-toe with him in any of the many arguments you find yourself in. So why is standing here in his house that smells so much like him, so cozy and smoky and a little papery, watching him smoke in his comfy clothes, make you want to turn and run?

“I came here…I came here because you fucked me!”

That gets his attention. He stubs the burning cigarette out on the counter, coughing wildly, eyes wide as he gestures to you in between wheezes. You spot his inhaler on the kitchen island next to you and hand it to him wordlessly. His ring finger is noticeably bare as he wraps his hand around the inhaler. He takes a deep breath, then another, slowly exhaling out into the silent kitchen.

“Excuse me?” he says. Your cheeks burn.

“Not like that, I mean–” you remember the test in your bag and pull it out, slapping it down on the island. He squints and fumbles for his glasses, tucking them behind his ears as he peers down at the jumbled writing. You can smell the cigarette smoke clinging to him as he leans in your space, reading the paper on the counter.

“Oh,” he says. He rubs a hand over his scruffy jaw sheepishly, looking up at you through dark lashes. “I see. Did Sandra give you a hard time?”

Oh? That’s all he has to say? You feel the fire return from earlier, remember why exactly you were mad at him in the first place, with everything at stake for you. Of course he wasn’t worried–it wasn’t his ass on the line for this kind of fuckup.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You don’t try to hide the bitterness from your voice. “She–she wants to put me on probation, Jonathan. Said enough parents complained, big donors, and if one more threatened to pull their donation I’d be done–”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He steps closer, reaching a hesitant hand out to cover yours where it’s gripping the edge of the counter. His thumb smooths over your knuckles, back and forth, back and forth. “I’ll talk to Sandra, don’t worry about it, okay honey? They’re not getting rid of you that easy, huh?”

You manage a watery smile. His eyes are so warm, crinkled up in the corners as he looks at you. His thumb comes to nudge your chin up and you smile, and then he’s stepping away and clearing his throat. You miss his warmth immediately.

Now you’re embarrassed–he probably thinks you’re crazy, showing up at his house over something so simple. But he just looks at you, reaching up to push his glasses back up on his nose.

“Thank you Prof–Jonathan,” you say. Maybe you’re imagining the way his eyes darken when you say his name. Just a trick of the light, the way his eyes seem to linger on your nipples poking through your thin impractical t-shirt. Or…maybe not, if the way he shifts until he’s standing right in front of you again is any indication.

“You, um. You want a drink, or something?” he husks. “Came all the way out here, right? Let me—I was just about to pour myself a glass of wine. Want one?”

“I shouldn’t really, we have an early class tomorrow I have to get ready for…”

He scoffs. Finds two glasses in the cabinet, pouring a generous amount into each from the open bottle of red wine on the counter. He hands one to you, and when you don’t immediately take it, wraps his hand around your fingers to make you hold it. His hand is so warm and covers yours completely.

“I have it on good authority,” he says, “that class will be canceled tomorrow, anyway.”

You take a long sip, mostly to hide the smile pulling your lips. His eyes never leave yours as he drinks his own wine, watching you watch the pull of his throat as he swallows. Again you realize the finger usually wearing his wedding band is bare, a little sad looking. Just like him.

“So…how’s Mira?” you say gently.

His expression tightens, eyebrows pulling together as he scoffs.

“Don’t really know,” he says. “She, ah…left me. A week ago, now.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he chokes the words out.

“Jonathan, I’m–fuck, I’m so sorry,” you place your hand on his, unsure how to comfort him properly.

He shrugs, sniffs a little and turns so you can’t see the tears in his eyes. “Yeah, well. It’s been over for a while. I should’ve known when she stopped wanting to…” he clears his throat again. “Sorry you don’t, you don’t need to hear about this.”

Another tear slips out and you reach out before he can, bumping the edge of his glasses as you wipe it off. He’s silent, barely moving, and then he leans into your touch even more with a low groan. 

“You know the best way to get over her?” you ask suddenly. He blinks more tears away and stares at you, uncomprehending. Heart pounding, you take his hand and lead him to the stairs, arousal growing with every step you take. He doesn’t resist, letting you direct him upstairs, down the hall to a big bedroom with an even bigger bed in the middle of the room. 

One side of the covers are turned down, rumpled and thrown off. On the nightstand is the book he assigned for class next week–you know if you opened it, it’d be covered in nearly incomprehensible scribbles, post-its, half thoughts only he could figure out. You’d had to decipher his chicken scratch more than once.

Jonathan is silent as you examine the room, doesn’t say anything when you find your way into the walk-in closet. One side is almost completely bare, just a few dresses strewn across the floor. You step over them, ignoring the low noise he makes, and run your fingers across the sweaters hung up neatly on the other side, the brown corduroy pants you recognize immediately, the ones that have no business making his ass look that good. It’s not what you expected–the room, the closet, the bathroom–they’re all clean and tidy to the point of feeling sterile.

He’s leaning against the door jamb when you emerge from the closet. He clears his throat once. “What are you–I mean–”

“Do you or do you not want to fuck me right now?” you say, just to watch the flush spread across his cheeks, the way he shifts in place. He doesn’t look up until you move to stand right in front of him. The steady thrum of arousal you always feel around him, the one you’ve managed to push down and ignore out of respect for his wife, for your career and his, spreads unchecked like a wildfire.

“Of course, honey,” he whispers, rubbing at his watery eyes with a thick finger and you rub your thighs together.

Heart racing, you tell him get on the bed, and he scrambles to listen, perching on the rumpled side of the bed, the one he’s clearly been sleeping on, but that’s not what you want.

“No,” you say, and he freezes, apology already on his lips. “The whole bed.”

Something passes through his eyes, darkening until they look almost black in the low light of the room. He flips the other side of the covers down without hesitation, and when he leans back in the middle of the bed you can see the growing outline of his cock through his sweatpants. 

His eyes follow you as you stand at the foot of the bed, hands fisting the sheets as you run a hand under your own shirt, lifting it up an inch, then two, before dropping it down again. He groans, low and deep, and you feel a little thrill at the noise, how wrecked he looks already. He’s so easy.

“Take your glasses off,” you instruct, and even before you finish speaking he’s pulling them off and setting them gently on the nightstand. Just waiting for you to tell him what to do next. His throat bobs with a hard swallow. 

“Lean back and don’t move. If you do, I’m gonna stop, okay?” He looks dazed but nods, fisting his hands by his side in the sheets to keep them there. 

You quickly shed your jeans and t-shirt, ignoring the whine in his throat when he sees your exposed skin, the light fabric of your panties already damp with want, and crawl up to settle in between his spread legs. For a moment you sit there, not sure what you want to do next. Would he let you sit on his face? Slip a finger or two inside you until you’re dripping, begging for him to fuck you? No, tonight should be about him first, you decide quickly. 

You scratch your nails through his beard and he hums, leaning into your touch. He doesn’t move as you take his face between your hands, keeps his hands to his side until you shift forward until you’re hovering over the bulge in his sweatpants. He throws his head back with a low thunk against the headboard, gripping your sides with his warm hands as he tries to pull you down, closer to where he’s hard and aching.

“Jonathan,” you say mock-sternly and his eyes fly open immediately. You shake your head, lifting yourself up and back over to the end of the bed and he panics, hands scrabbling at the empty air.

“No c’mon, I’ll be good, come back–can you just, just touch me please, honey?”

His face is flushed, chest heaving as he watches you settle by his feet again. He’s still wearing those damn socks. His breath catches once but when you look up in alarm he smiles, gives you a thumbs up. What a loser.

“I think you’ll like this better, though,” you whisper. “Take your shirt off.”

And he does, whipping it off into the corner of the room before you can say anything else. His chest glints with sweat as he leans back again, breathing heavily. You run your fingers down his stomach, through the light trail of hair that disappears into his sweats and he groans, bucking his hips up. 

Your fingers run under the waistband of his pants slowly, a barely-there brush of fingers that he tries to buck up into again. You push him down, holding him to the bed by his hips and he just lets you. It’s hotter than it should be.

“Are you gonna be good and stay still?” you ask. He nods quickly and you smile at him, ignoring the stickiness between your thighs. You pull down the waistband of his pants and to your surprise his cock bobs up, ruddy and thick and already leaking precum.

“Commando, really? What–were you jerking off before I got here, is that why you were too busy to talk to me?” He doesn’t say anything, averting his eyes from your knowing glance. “Holy shit, you were. What were you thinking about?”

He doesn’t answer right away so you drag your fingers lightly over the sticky head of his cock, and that gets his attention, the words spilling out almost uncontrollably. “I don’t know, you–shit no, I mean. Fu-uck, please.”

You let him push his hips up into your hand once, twice, and then you’re pushing him back down, cutting off his protest when you lower your head down, licking the salt and precum off your hand before you wrap it around him. You let your tongue run over the pulsing vein as he chants please please fuck please. 

“Were you thinking about this? About me with your cock in my mouth, on my knees for you?” and before he can answer you take his length in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks just to hear him whine, jacking what you can’t take in your mouth. His hands grip the sheets, his own thighs, hovering like he wants to grab your head so you let him, guiding his hand to the back of your head as you move up and down, taking him further and further into your mouth until you’re swallowing around him. 

He groans, trying to move his hips up and you push him down even harder, pulling back to suck light little kisses up and down his cock instead. He’s whining now, loud in the quiet house, pulling your hair and panting, practically wheezing. You’re just leaning over to take him in again, letting your breath fan over the thick head, but before you can even do anything he’s tensing up, a low groan spilling from his mouth as he comes, untouched. 

A little string of saliva follows when you finally pull back, and he stares as you wipe your thumb across your cheek, pushing the string of come there into your mouth. His face is red as he watches you sit back on your heels, dick limp and twitching against his stomach.

“Fuck, are you okay? I’m sorry–it’s, uh, it’s been awhile. Clearly.” He rubs a hand over his face, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. He coughs again, breathes out sharply and then fumbles for the inhaler tucked into the nightstand. 

“Was it everything you dreamed about?” you joke, settling yourself over his thighs, linking your arms behind his neck. He huffs out a quiet laugh and runs his hands over your sides, stopping when you push yourself forward, letting your bare breasts drag against his chest. His hands are unsure, lingering as he grabs your hips, rubbing his thumbs over the panties you’re still wearing.

“Not exactly,” he says, and when you start to protest he tightens his grip, quickly adding, “no I mean, of course, you’re–fuck, you’re amazing–but I wanted to do this properly. Wanted to get my mouth on you first.”

The thought of his mouth on you, taking you apart, letting his beard scratch up your inner thighs–it makes you even wetter than you were before and you try to be subtle about the way you’re shifting around in his lap but it’s clearly not working, if the groan he gives is any indication. You can feel him, half-hard and growing when you grind yourself against him. 

“Already?” you gasp, somewhat impressed with his recovery time, and he gives you a shy smile and a shrug. His fingers drag down lower, snapping the side of your underwear and you rise up, shucking them off as he kicks his sweatpants down until you’re both fully naked.

“Will you let me touch you please? Can I get my mouth on you, please, been thinkin’ about it all night, since you walked into my office that first day of class, shit, you’re so pretty, please–”

You cut him off with a kiss, running your hands through his messy hair and he groans into your open mouth, a little rumbling thing you can feel as you kiss down his throat, his shoulder, and then he stops you with a hand to your chin, pulling you back up to look at him. He scoots back, dragging you with him as he settles back on the bed, grabbing a pillow from her side of the bed to place under his head and looking up at you expectantly where you’re waiting, holding yourself up over his stomach.

“Sit on my face,” he murmurs. “Please, will you? Let me make you feel good, c’mon.”

All the air leaves your body in a rough exhale–maybe you need his stupid inhaler this time. “Y-yeah,” you rasp, and then you’re shuffling up his body, hovering over his face until he grunts and wraps a hand around each thigh, pulling you down to where he’s waiting.

You’re right–his beard does burn, tickling the insides of your thighs as he mouths sloppy kisses there, nipping randomly until he pulls you down, again, letting you settle right over his warm mouth. 

He’s good, licking up into you with an intensity you’ve never felt, fucking his tongue in and out until you’re groaning, gripping the headboard and grinding your hips down for more more more–so greedy. His nose nudges your clit lightly, not enough to do anything until you lean forward even more, pressing yourself against him. He groans and you feel it through your body, where you’re dripping onto him, moving even faster against his mouth. Your thighs begin to shake, pleasure coiling in your stomach, and then he nudges your clit again, licking hard and you’re done, coming hard into his mouth as he guides your hips over and over until you finally push him away, too sensitive.

“Holy shit,” you gasp when you see him, beard drenched, eyes hooded as he stares back at you, chest hitching and stuttering with his heavy breaths. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs, yanking your body down until you’re rocking against his cock, hard and thick and just what you need. He tips his chin up to look at you with a soft smile as you press small kisses over his ear, his beard, the tip of his nose until he’s whining please please please.

“What do you want? Gotta use your words,” you murmur, reaching behind you to grab his cock. He’s still slippery with come and you run your hand up and down him slowly, ignoring the way he pushes his hips up, how his fingers dig in the spaces above your hip bones.

“Please sweetheart, lemme fuck you, ’s all I think about–you’re so pretty I just wann-ah shit, wanna–” he’s panting again, breath catching in a wheeze, and you reach down to clasp your palm over his mouth just to get him to shut up–the last thing you need is for him to have a fucking asthma attack right now. His whine is muffled and tears are forming in the corner of his eyes as you carefully grab his throbbing cock, steadily leaking precum, and position yourself over it. You just hover there for a second, letting him feel the heat of you, how wet you are, and his head jerks back beneath your palm, tears rolling down his temples.

And then you’re sinking down slowly, letting you both feel the stretch, his eyes wide as he watches the slow glide, the way you envelope him so completely. It’s so good and you just sit there for a second, adjusting to the way he feels, forgetting about your hand over his mouth until he mumbles something. His hands are gripping the covers again, the sheets a mess with both of your come, and you feel a perverse sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“What?” 

“Can you p-please move, so tight, ’m not gonna last.” He breaks off into a groan when you lean forward, changing the angle until your clit presses right into his pubic bone, hips bucking uncontrollably when you rake your nails down his chest, watching the red marks appear with satisfaction. Mine now.

You hush him, wiping the stray tear from his face as you roll your hips slowly, keeping your hands pressed against his chest in warning when he tries to move too quickly. He’s thick inside you and you shift minutely, letting him rub against the spot you like, the one that has you clenching around him with a low moan.

He smiles when you gasp, murmuring right there, honey?, and all you can do is nod, chasing the growing tension as you try to keep moving at a steady pace. You feel your legs wobbling, tired now, and he grunts, shoving his hips up up up and all you can do is hold on and let him. He reaches for your clit with his thumb, rubbing lightly until you feel yourself tense up, pleasure zinging through your body until you finally explode, hips stuttering over him as your muscles lock up. 

You try to catch your breath, getting ready to move again, to let him finish until he stops you, face red again. Then you finally notice the trickle of come seeping out from where you’re still connected, his cock slowly softening, and you lift yourself off and flop down next to him. It’s silent, the harsh rasp of his breathing prompting you to roll over and look at him but he’s already looking at you, eyes soft as he pushes a stray piece of hair out of your face. 

“Thank you,” he says softly, and you shrug. 

“Don’t thank me yet,” you say. “I’m still ratting you out to Sandra tomorrow.”

He laughs softly, a little wheeze that has you smiling. “Fair enough.”

--

masterlist here

#jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy fic #jonathan levy smut #scenes from a marriage fic #just look at that gif and tell me u dont want to see him cry. RIGHT. #didnt tag anyone else bc i didnt know who else would be into this besides me and angela LOL #ok goodnight #lexi writes things

[kp0ptributera]

Beautiful colleague

A/N: Welcome to my fist ever smut, feel free to send all the remarks you want to help me improve. ^~^ Word count: 1708

You woke up thinking it would be another boring day, just another day listening to pointless demands and orders at work, in fact you still ask yourself why do you keep that shitty job, but then you think about your new colleague, and you start to smile. The day she came in felt like a ray of sun after a rainy day, the tall gorgeous blonde was stunning and before you could even say a word, you find yourself tripping on your words, trying to salute her and welcome her in this hell which suddenly became way more interesting. “H-hi, nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N)” you said, still astonished by her smile. “Hey, I’m Somi, hope we will do good work together” she started giggling, which made her even more beautiful. Your boss looked at you, “She will be under your commands till you finished teach her all she needs to know, so don’t waste both your time and get to it”, he left you both in your office and locked himself in his. “He looks like a perv”, Somi said, “ like he kept trying to watch down my shirt all the time he was with me” she looked disappointed by that, but you can’t blame your boss, she looks like a walking goddess, her figure could make anyone go crazy and she was overflowing with confidence. “He isn’t a bad guy, it’s not that often that we see woman as beautiful as you here” you started blushing when those words left your lips, “I should learn to think before I speak” you thought, looking in her eyes, afraid to see disgust, but all you saw was a malicious look. “Oh, so you think I’m beautiful ?”, Somi started to smile, “maybe you could help your new BEAUTIFUL colleague learning her job then” “You are going to tease me with that, don’t you”, you laughed, feeling happy to be at work for the first time in months “Yes I am”, she laugh too, “but we should work now”.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks have passed since Somi and you were paired, you did your best to teach her all you know, and in exchange, you saw her struggle to take some of the work your boss literally buried you in. “(Y/N), is it normal that you get all that work while I see some colleagues do nearly nothing”, Somi looked pissed, but not because of the amount of work, because you were the one who needed to do it. “Well, that’s because they do nothing that I get to do all the work, to make sure there’s no delay”, you flashed her a sad smile, knowing that it will be another night where you will overwork, “You can go home if you want, you don’t need to lose some sleep because of me”, then you thought “even if I would love to lose some sleep with you”.

Somi started to think, and finally said “No way I leave you alone with all that work, I’ll go get us some food, and your beautiful colleague will assist you as much as she can” she laughed, and you started to feel a bit better.

“Okay, but stop teasing me with that, you know that it slipped out of my head”, you were still feeling shy because of that

“I know, but it’s fun to make you blush”, Somi winked at you, and left to grab some noodle cup at the grocery down the street. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

You decided to close your eyes, to let them rest a bit, and fell asleep before even knowing it, just to woke up on something really smooth, you didn’t remembered going to the couch in your office, but it felt like the best pillow you’ve ever slept on….You slowly open your eyes, just to see something huge in front of your sleepy eyes, it took you less than 2 seconds to finally understand the situation….your head was laying on Somi’s thighs, and what was hiding the light was her chest, you tried your best since she worked with you to not stare at them, but they look even bigger from there. “Oh shit, I’m sorry , I must’ve fell asleep”, you were bright red, and your body was reacting to the heaven sent sight you woke up to. Somi looked at you, and you saw that luscious light in her eyes once again, while she bit her lower lip, “Don’t worry, there’s nothing to be sorry there, in fact I think I can help you” she said that with a teasing voice. You gulped loudly, “H-how do you want to help me ?”,you try to look anywhere but at her, her hypnotic body making you fail at it. She got closer to you, and whispered in your ear right before biting your earlobe “Maybe I could help you relive some stress, I know how you look at me when you think I’m too busy to notice, but what you don’t know is that it gets me so horny every time” You couldn’t believe what she said, you must still be dreaming, there’s no other way, but you started to feel a hot breath in your neck, followed by soft lips and kisses crashing on it, stealing some light moans from you, as her hands wander on your chest, going lower and lower, till they reach your pants. “So, (Y/N), any commands for your beautiful assistant, I’m here to help you in any way I can” she rub your growing boner through your underwear, and you feel yourself losing your mind and will to stop her faster than you thought possible. “I need to feel your lips down there, my only order right now is that I want you to make me cum Somi”, your mind was too busy trying to keep your sanity intact to ask for more, and at the second she unpacked your boner, you knew nothing would ever feel better.

Somi started to jerk you off slowly, planting her eyes toward yours, her devilish smile letting you know she was waiting this since longer than you. Her lips began to kiss your length from the bottom, her soft hand fondling your balls gently as she started to push the tip of your cock in her mouth.

You moaned, it was truly too amazing to be true, you were getting you cock sucked by the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met, in your office, and she was willing to do her best to help you to relieve your stress, even if deep down, you knew it was just because she was horny and wanting to do that, after all the teasing she did.

The deeper she went, she louder your moans became, she was really skillful, twisting her tongue around and making your cock feel like it’s melting, the gulping sound echoing with your moans, beginning to sound like a sweet music to both of your ears.

Before you could see it, Somi started to play with herself with her other hand, making you even hornier “F-Fuck Somi, I t-think I’m gonna cum if you keep going”, it sounded more like a demand than a complain and Somi happily oblige, sending her throat faster at your throbbing cock.

“Fuuuck”, you buckled up your hips, pushing your cock down her throat and sending your cum there, you thought she would choke on it, but she swallowed it all with no problem, taking your cock out with a smile.

“Such a nice load (Y/N), how long did you planned to keep it for you instead of asking me”, Somi still looked beautiful with her messy hair and her ruined make up, “she is truly out of this world”, you told yourself. “I don’t know, I tried my best to think about anything else that how sexy you are”, you confessed, “But it’s not fair that I’m the only one feeling good there” you pushed her on the couch and slipped your hand under her skirt while your lips begin to wander around her neck, you can feel how wet she is and her moans grows louder as your fingers slip in her pussy.

You keep fingering her for a moment, till you feel her body slowly arching, her hand joining yours in her panties and furiously caressing her clit, bringing her to the orgasm as her legs get covered in her juices and a puddle appear on the floor.

Somi stared in your eyes, “Fuck me daddy, I dream about it since I started here, I just want you to use me”, she started begging, and with her cute face, there’s nothing you could refuse her. You aligned your cock with her pussy and started to push it in slowly, but she didn’t wanted slow sex, she wanted to be used, Somi locked her legs around your waist and pushed on you so you enter in one smooth movement deep in her.

She let a long moan escape, and you feel her pussy throbbing, “Did you just cum?”, you asked, and she answered with a lustful smile, Of course, my pussy was already feeling so good from earlier, and your cock seems to be perfect for me, so huge and it feels so good”. You started to move your hips, playing with her tits and kissing her pale skin as much as you can, you wanted this to keep going all night, but suddenly Somi grabbed your hair and pushed her lips on yours, the intimacy of this was too much, sending you over the edge and making you fill her pussy with your thick cum.

“Fuck…That was amazing, I don’t think I’ll be able to live without this everyday”, you said, still not sure if it was true or a dream, but Somi whispered in your ear with her soft voice, “Then use me everyday as you wish, no matter where we are, my body is yours”.

You both quickly put your clothes back and decided that after all that hard work, you would both take a day off tomorrow, there’s plenty of time to work later, but now, you need to strengthen that new bound, making you sure your beautiful colleague is all yours.

#somi smut #kpop smut #male reader

[xoalin4-xota-linda]

Childhood headcanons I imagine for nikto.

Again, this is pure what I imagine his childhood to be like, hence headcanon.

And therefore when I make a story of him or bot, I go with what I hc.

TW for: mentions of abuse, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, blood, bullying (is that even a tw?). If you are sensitive to any of that, do not read.

I like to think that he had a very abusive childhood, like severely.

His mother was a complete deadshit. Drug attic and straight alcoholic. Leaving bottles all over the shitty house he had to live in.

She smoked a lot also, the house never smelt of anything else but cigarettes. Also to say she was quite a whore.

She would call nikto stuff like ‘useless child’ ‘pathetic shit’ ‘mistake’ and all sorts of names. His mother just never liked him at all, said he ‘looks to much like his father’.

She would often get angry at him because he couldn’t get her more cigarettes/alcohol because he was too young to get it.

She would then repeatedly smack him in the back of the head and saying stuff like “good for nothing child! I knew I should have gotten rid of you the moment I found out I was pregnant!” Ect.

Not to mention his father, his father was straight evil. His mother he could deal with, as she wasn’t that strong and a woman.

Oh but his father, he dreaded when his father came home from work each day. Dreaded the weekends even more because his father would be in the house for those days.

It was bad enough that most of the time his father was butt-fuck drunk. Which made him even worse.

His father would often beat him till he coughed up blood, was a crying mess on the floor in his own blood. Had broken/bruised ribs and cuts all over his body.

He swears there wasn’t a moment In his life that he wasn’t limping around to go to school. Always in jumpers and long pants to hide his battered body.

He completely feared his father, utterly terrified of him. Especially since he couldn’t fight back then because he was just a child and his father was stronger than him.

And hated his father even more because he looked exactly like his father. The same pitch black hair (he has black hair, talk to the wall if you think I’m wrong) and same blue eyes with the same facial features.

And even at school, not even the kids there were nice. Always wanting a go at him because he was the ‘quiet kid’ in school. Which led to him getting into multiple fights in school and getting sent to the principals office.

He feared that the most, getting sent to the principals office, because he knew his father would be the first one to know. Which led to him getting another beating the moment he got home.

He ran away from home when he was 15, he just couldn’t do it anymore. Stayed with one of his friends (only) for a couple of days until he got a job and enough money to afford a scabby apartment.

With his life away from his parents, he had free will to do whatever. Which led to his friends showing him some stuff and bringing him places.

One of those places was a brothel, which is where he had his first time at 15. And he just found himself going back there at least once each week.

He loved sex, loved the feeling of a woman’s body and the look of it. Loved when some of the women would let him wrap his hand around their throat while he fucks them.

That became one of his sources to get relief and relax after a tiresome week. He never really liked it when a woman was on top of him, just felt wrong to him and made him feel weak, like when he couldn’t fight off his father from beating him. So he never really allowed them on top.

I do not know how old he was when he joined the military, tho I like to think he did when he was 21. Built his body up enough and just decided he didn’t want to be working that shit job for the rest of his life.

Well that’s it, bit harsh, yes? Man never had peace once in his life😞 unless he was balls deep inside a woman that is.

#nikto #call of duty nikto #cod nikto #mwii nikto #call of duty #call of duty hc #headcanons #don’t hate me for this🙏

[beebeetheclown]

Here's something i came up with from the prompts🙈

15. [Slapping] Kendall on the face because either:

- he was being too cocky

- dirty talk went too far

- wont shut up about how shitty his dad is during sex💀

Hi I loved all of these ideas haha . I kinda tried to put them together all in one🤭 Hope you like it👀

One Shot Request

Kendall Roy x reader, Kendall Roy x You, f/m

Contains: smut, Kendall Roy being cocky…😏

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~💗~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Working in an office job with rich narcissists wasn’t really your thing. But here you were, following Frank, your father, around Waystar. He got you the job because there was job openings available and he wanted you to be just like him someday. Your first week there was already a lot, it was crazier than you thought it would be.

“What, is it daddy daughter work day?” Was the first thing Roman Roy had said in your direction.

“No, I am just giving her some training. She starts tomorrow.”

Roman looks at you, “Right. Just promise me you aren’t as annoying as your dad. He is very annoying.”

“I’ll try my best.” You reply.

So, that’s how you met Roman. As for his brother, he was the complete opposite. While Roman was busy with his dumb little jokes towards you like he was your own little brother, Kendall stayed quiet while it was your first few weeks there. You’d see his eyes on you sometimes or even just feel them on you. You didn’t really think much of it until Roman stops you one day as you’re walking past his office.

“Hey, get over here.” You hear him say.

You turn and walk into his office, “What do you want?”

“Sit, make yourself comfortable. I have something rather pathetic to tell you.” He says with a little giggle.

“Oh god,” You really weren’t ready to hear it as you thought it was going to be something pointless.

“It’s not about me this time I promise. All though, I am quite interesting.”

“Just get on with it.”

“My brother. He wants to fuck you.”

You look at Roman and can’t tell if he’s bullshitting you or not. “What?”

“Yeah, he wants to fuck you. He can’t seem to keep it in his pants cause he’s so pathetic.”

“You’re full of shit.” You say as you get up from your chair, not believing a single word he says.

“No, I’m serious.” He laughs. “He really told me, face-to-face. He said he’d try and get you but he was afraid he’d scare you off and you’d file some assault charge. He thought it was ‘unprofessional’ to fuck an employee. I told him to not give a fuck.”

“So, you encouraged him?”

“I mean, yeah. Why wouldn’t I? I’d fuck you, you’re… fucking… hot.”

“Okay, no. I am not sleeping with you.”

“Boring.” He replies with a shrug, “Now, go away I have stuff to do.” He says and shoos you away with his hands.

As you leave his office, you can only try and think if what he had just told you was actually the truth or just some stupid prank. That was the thing about Roman, you never knew if he was really joking because he was always so childish.

Of course, out of what seems to be a coincidence, you and Kendall run into each other as you are making your way back to your desk. He stops in front of you instead of just walking past which makes you stop too, looking up from the ground and at him.

“So, Roman doesn’t keep secrets very well does he?”

“Uh, I’m sorry?”

He smiles, “It’s my fault, really. I should have known that he doesn’t keep his mouth shut.”

“You heard?”

“Yeah, I mean, how could I not? His door was wide open and he spoke loudly as he ran his mouth.”

You don’t know why you were embarrassed. It’s not like you said anything bad, it’s he who should be embarrassed.

“Right.” You reply, “Well, I guess your secret’s out.” You joke, not really taking the whole thing seriously. But Kendall was taking it very seriously. He meant what he said to Roman a few nights back. He felt as if he couldn’t handle it anymore and he needed to at least try and get at you.

“I guess so.” He replies.

“And, you’re not embarrassed by that?” You ask.

“No, not really. Why do you think I should be?” This was high on power Kendall Roy. A grin on his face while he was being so manic and cocky. This was now your third week and you already saw many different sides of Kendall.

“I don’t know. I would be if I were you.” You say with a little chuckle, “I mean, we’ve spoken what? Maybe twice?”

“Yeah, and twice is good enough for me.” He grins.

“Is it crazy to say that I think you’re more immature than your brother?” You tease.

He laughs softly with you, “Oh, very crazy. I am not immature, not as immature as him, that's for sure.”

“Prove it then.”

“Uh, I know the best answers to things, not just business related of course. I know what I want and I’m not too much of a pussy to go for it. Oh, and I actually know how to fuck without being awkward.”

“Right. You’re oh so mature but you just go and roast your younger brother just like that? Like a little boy wanting to win? Real mature.” You tease. “You know, I’ve never meant someone more cocky than you?”

“But you like it.”

“No, I don’t”

“Yeah, you do.” The same grin stays on his face. You honestly had no idea where all of this confident and flirty personality of his was coming from. But like you said before, Kendall Roy has many sides to him

“I do not. Now, is there anything else ridiculous you have to say, or can I go back to my desk?”

“Actually, there is one more thing.”

Oh great.

“And what is that?” You ask.

“There's these printed files tucked away in one of the conference rooms, I need help grabbing them.”

“You need help grabbing papers? Located in an empty conference room?”

“Uh huh, that’s right.”

You can’t help but grin a little bit. You don’t know why, but you reply with, “Okay, I’ll help you. But then, I’m going back to my desk.”

“Deal.”

You follow him to the conference room. You knew that the whole paper thing was bullshit, you followed him anyway.

Before you know it, you are in an empty conference room with no windows that face the office, only ones that face the city.

As soon as he closes the door behind the two of you, you don’t even care to still pretend that there are papers, you just cut right to it.

“You know, my dad’s going to kill me, no actually, he’ll kill you.”

Kendall jokingly looks around the room, “I don’t see him anywhere.”

“You know what I mean. If he finds out about this, finds out that you, Kendall, are a part of it, he’d never respect you again.”

“Not a problem. He’ll have to respect me if he wants to keep his fucking job.”

“You don’t get to decide if he keeps his job, Logan does.”

“Yeah, but not for long, soon it’ll be up to me. Hey, speaking of m dad, he’d be so fucking angry about this.” He says with a laugh. His hands are now slowly travelling up your thighs. “But I don’t give a fuck on what he has to say.”

As his hands continue, you begin to back up and sit on the edge of the long conference table. He pulls your skirt up over your hips.

“Of course you don’t. You only care about yourself.”

“That’s not true. I care about you right now.”

“Do you?”

“Uh huh.” He says lowly. “Can I touch you?” He now whispers in your ear.

“Yes, just don’t make me regret this.”

“Oh, trust me, you won’t. I’ll be the best guy you’ve ever had.”

His cockiness really made you dislike him more, but it also turned you on more than anything. He pushes your panties aside and plays with your clit for a few seconds before he brings his fingers down and fucks you with them. A sound leaves your lips as you look down at his hand.

You don’t even hold back and put your hand on the back of his head as you kiss his lips. He kisses you back in need but the kiss doesn’t last long as you have to pull away to moan and gasp into his mouth. His fingers stretched you out since you hadn’t gotten laid in so long, they stretched you out because they worked you better than your own skinny little fingers.

He kisses you again and then breathes out a little chuckle as he listens to the quiet noises you make for him. “Oh, I could only imagine how much my dad would hate this.” He laughs a little at the thought of his father being angry, “And I used to care so much to please him. I’ve learned not to give a fuck anymore. I like seeing his stupid little angry face. I like doing what I want.”

“Ken, can you maybe like… not talk about your father while your fingers are inside of me? I’d like to not think about him in a situation like this.” You breathe out.

“Right, right. Sorry, it’s just that, I think it’s funny how I used to care so much. But I make up my own fucking rules now.”

You grind your hips into his fingers to give yourself more pleasure and grab onto his shoulder with your one hand. It’s almost as if you needed him to shut up in order for you to cum, but he keeps going,

“I make my own rules, I fuck whoever I want and I will win.”

“Kendall,” You say his name, meaning it as a warning that you want him to shut his mouth but it comes out as a whine. This only encourages his cockiness and boosts his ego.

“God, he’ll be so fucking jealous of me. He’ll wish he never,”

You don’t let Kendall even finish his sentence. Instead you let go of your grip that was on his suit jacket and slap him in the face. You don’t even know why you did it, it’s like you did it without thinking. His fingers freeze inside of you as he looks back at you. You can’t help but look back at him and then laugh.

“What was that for?” He asks in a serious tone.

“I don’t want to be cumming around your fingers while you continue to talk about your shitty father and your cocky little fantasies.”

He doesn’t reply, he just grins again.

“Oh, what could you possibly be smiling-“ You don’t finish your sentence. He pushes you down so that your back is on the table. He spreads your legs wider and unzips his pants.

“Kendall, what are you doing?” You ask, looking at him standing in front of you. You knew exactly what he was doing but you asked anyway, shocked at how fast it was all happening.

“Just be quiet and let me do what I need to do. I know you want this as much as I do, you being so wet gives it away.”

“Someone could walk in at any moment.”

“Unlikely. This room is only used for meetings. It’s our lucky day, none are scheduled today.”

“Well, someone could hear us.”

“You think I’ll make you feel so good that you won’t be able to keep quiet huh?”

Okay, fuck you.”

“Just be as quiet as you can. We’d hate to have someone find out that Frank’s daughter has her legs spread for me on a table wouldn’t we?” He says teasingly and then lines himself up.

“Just fuck me before I change my mind.”

He smiles and grabs your thighs, not waiting any longer to grind his hips forward. You are so tight around him that it makes him moan lowly.

You gasp before a little whimper leaves your lips. He grabs your hips now and pulls back before thrusting forward again but a little faster this time. He groans then chuckles a little at how good you feel around his cock.

“Tell me you’re not going to regret this.” He says as he continues to fuck you on the conference room table, finding and setting a pace.

“As much as I hate to say it, I won’t regret it.” You breathe out before you’re throwing your head back and moaning at the feeling of him pumping into you.

“I knew it.” He grunts out, “I fucking knew you would love having me like this. Am I the best fuck you’ve ever had?”

“Just shut up.” You whine.

“That’s not answering my question.” He looks at your eyes now as he continues his brutally slow but rough thrusts.

“Yes, and I fucking hate that that’s the answer.” You close your eyes and whisper his name.

“Why?”

You’ve never had a guy talk so much during sex. Hearing him speak like he was having a normal conversation only with grunts and moans in between makes you want to scream in pleasure.

“Because- you’re… Kendall Roy.”

“Yeah, I am. So what? You should be grateful to have me like this rather than be a stubborn little girl.”

“I am not stubborn.”

“Yes, you are.” He begins to set a faster pace now, making sure that you get it in your head that you should be “grateful”.

“No- fuck you.”

“What, are you gonna give me one of your weak little slaps again?” He chuckles, “Go ahead, you know it actually turns me on when you’re all annoyed and stubborn. I like a little challange.”

You can’t believe that his stupid degrades and his cockiness makes your orgasm arrive but they do. You don’t even warn him before you’re finishing around him. You aren’t even thinking straight as you moan out loudly, not covering your mouth at all.

It only takes him a few more seconds, with his thrusts now getting messier, he follows close behind and tiny grunts leave his lips before he’s pulling out and spilling on your thigh. You’re both catching your breaths and you look up at the ceiling, not believing what you just did. It was crazy, but you didn’t regret it.

“How was that?” He says with a chuckle, fixing himself up to make it look like he didn’t just fuck one of his employees.

“Good, but never again.”

“Sure… right.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“You’ll come back. You won’t admit it, but you'll come back.”

You shake your head and smile a little. Maybe he was right.

#kendall roy #fanfic #ao3 #fanfiction #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy x you #kendall roy smut #jeremy strong

[dez-wade]

i just auto block anyone with bad faith takes about characters they’ve clearly never watched. so much of egg discourse can be summed up as someone saying “i know they’re just kids but *proceeds to criticize normal child behaviors*”. if anything people should feel sorry for bad being stuck with the accountant job. fit gets to act tough, pac gets to drive trains, foolish gets to pretend he’s a creature, bad gets an office job. that last bit is a joke but seriously it such a normal thing for little kids to assign silly roles like that and it means that sunny really liked him.

also in a meta sense i think the eggs are given some potentially fixable flaws on purpose so the parents can work through it with them. hating them for that is a little unfair. sunny isn’t even the first to dislike the idea of being poor. if you actually watch them you can see they don’t want anyone else to be poor either so she gives away some diamonds every day. she’s a sweet kid but you only see the full extent if you watch tubbo

I think after QSMP started I blocked more than 1k people on Twitter. I'm not picky at all when it comes to this, I silence a lot of words as well. Has a shitty take? I'm not only blocking you, I'm blocking all people that liked that tweet as well. Sadly it's impossible to get rid of all the annoying ones, it's like a hydra. You cut a head, two are born in its place.

I don't even try to defend Sunny anymore when I see the bad takes because they already have a made up image of her in their heads and they won't be listening.

Sunny despite her "material girl" side is the sweetest and kindest egg. She doesn't like "poor people" but she actually never treated them bad? Like, she thought Empanada was poor so she gave her a bunch of diamonds and still considers her her bestie. Empanada loves Sunny as well.

Genuinely that's the only time I remember Sunny actually being "they're poor..." It was with Em/Nikki and a bit with Em/Bagi. I know classicism is an awful thing, but do you really need to take it seriously when it comes from a Minecraft egg RPing as a kid?

And I'm not even touching the people genuinely mad at Sunny calling Foolish her pet. That's the people who are far too gone and need to touch some grass, see real kids. Real people. Stay out of the internet for a week and remember what real life is.

#ask #qsmp discourse #fandom neg #sunnysideup the egg

[elskamo]

More Shitty Life Updates

TLDR for those who wanna know but don't wanna read the whole thing: Mum forced me to reveal trauma that I wasn't ready to share, followed by getting Sciatica then being made redundant the next day. In pain, need money, you know where this is going.

The whole thing: I've been struggling a bit (okay, a lot) more than usual over the past week or so, yet again I've had quite a few negative life events one after the other. I am in the process of getting help for everything happening right now, I'm doing all I can to take care of both my mental and physical health.

Last Monday Mum realised my mental health has been getting worse again and refused to leave me alone until I told her what was going on. She kept badgering me for information and making up random accusations about what could have happened. She also kept sneaking into my old bedroom and looking through my belongings to try and find... fuck knows what honestly.

I've recently started delving into a past trauma with my counsellor that I'm not ready to share yet with anyone, let alone my mum, I will not be elaborating on it any further than this. Eventually it got to the point where I was forced to tell her, she cycled between being disgusted, accusing me of making things up, getting mad at me, and attempting to be supportive for a couple days. Frankly I feel violated as hell and it made my mental health nosedive even further.

By Wednesday morning I suddenly started getting shooting pains from my lower back going all the way down my right leg. It got to the point where I collapsed from the pain and had to be sent home from the office early. It took hours getting bounced back and forth between 111, the GP surgery, and out of hours care. Eventually they diagnosed me with Sciatica and managed to arrange for me to pick up some prescription painkillers the next day. The pain is nowhere near as bad as it was last week but I'm struggling to walk because of it and I haven't been outside in days.

The nail in the coffin came on Thursday morning when one of my bosses called to check up on me. He let me know that at the start of the week three of the staff had a meeting where they agreed that when my probation period finished at the end of October they were gonna let me go because they've decided my position at the company isn't what they need right now. Since I had to go off sick from the Sciatica they said they'd instead just make me redundant now.

It really came out of the blue, especially as I've been uncovering a lot of marketing, commerce, and general technical issues since I've been employed there and there's definitely no shortage of work for me to do. My mum is convinced they're lying and don't want me because of my health issues but there's no way of proving that. It does mean that I'm unemployed again and need to go through a few meetings with Universal Credit who will want me to get a new job ASAP regardless of my health.

So yeah, right now I feel like garbage. I've got help from one of my friends to sort out the UC stuff, particularly with proving my health issues. I'm still waiting to find out what I'm getting paid for work this month, since the phone call last Thursday no one has reached out to me to discuss pay or handing over tasks or logins. When the Sciatica isn't affecting my mobility anymore I'll be able to start reaching out to my contacts again and get help with job hunting and networking.

As usual all this means I'll probably be cycling between being ghostly silent or desperately looking for comfort content. Hopefully it's not gonna take another half a year to find a new job but if anyone is able to please donate on Ko-Fi or buy something off Redbubble or Ebay (the latter is UK only right now). Etsy is still pretty barren as things got kinda manic while I was setting it up but it should be properly up and running soon now I have a lot of time to spare again. I feel crappy to have to keep doing this but please do help if you're able to!

#update #ronnie rambles #unemployment #sciatica #health problems #trauma #ko fi #ebay #redbubble #etsy #donate #donate if you can #please donate #donations

[clarinet-sticks]

I have to rant. Pls bare with me or ignore me idc. TW: Miscarriage & shitty bosses (I tried to tag what I thought might need to be tagged, so sorry if I missed something.)

My boss SUCKED. She was the first person I called and told I was pregnant & how I’d be on closer watch with the OB due to my miscarriage earlier this year. She said that was totally fine and to just keep her in the loop.

Only a few days into the school year I started spotting, which is obviously scary since I experienced that before my loss. I got into the OB immediately and started being seen weekly for blood tests and ultrasounds. I tried to ask off ahead of time if I knew I had an appointment, but a few times I had to leave in the middle of the day and come back, which she was fine with.

One day I went in and had only taken the morning off. I was stuck in the office waiting for hours so I texted letting my boss know I wouldn’t be back. I brought her my doctors note which simply started I was seen at 10:45 (which is usually all the office gives you when you ask for a work note).

I was also put on restrictions so my baby and I would be safe at work. I was not allowed to lift 25 pounds or more. She came up to me in the hallway demanding I have paperwork proving that, otherwise she and the district wouldn’t recognize my restrictions and would make me work like normal. I called the office and asked for something to be sent in writing for work, and they complied, sending it to my hospital app. I screenshotted it and emailed it to my boss. I then went to her office to confirm she received it and she said “yep, that should be all I need, thanks!” Then she read the note and says “do we even have any kids that heavy?” YES??? The average 3-4 year old is at the smallest 35 pounds.

About a week goes by, then I wake up and get around for work. I go pee right before leaving and suddenly there’s a LOT more spotting. I’m panicked, I call my boss to let her know I won’t be in and I’ll be calling my OB when they open. She doesn’t answer, so I text her. She responds with “I will not be able to find a sub with 16 minute notice. We will be short handed.” Ok? I’m in crisis mode right now and you’re expecting me to feel bad that I had to contact you last minute?? THEN she sends another long ass message saying she needs a note proving I was seen, it could NOT be an email on my phone, and it had better say I wasn’t allowed to return to work that day… because she let it slide last time my note only stated the time of my appointment, but I should’ve returned to work if I was able.

I was seeing red. I was shaking I was so mad. I called my husband and told him what happened and he immediately said to quit. It was bullshit. She knows my situation. She knows I’m panicked over every little issue because I lost one before. But instead of being empathetic and understanding, she throws it in my face that the classroom will be down a teacher and scolds me for my notes not being adequate? Despite her literally saying they were fine before?

I just texted back “ok, then consider this my resignation. I don’t appreciate how I’m being talked to or how this situation has been handled.” To which she replied “ok thanks for letting me know” if she was SO worried about being short handed, I’d think she’d care a bit more that I left the position entirely! She clearly didn’t like me for whatever reason despite me doing everything she asked whenever she asked.

She also turned around and posted my job online within like an hour and had all the other staff share it. I have a feeling she told them all I’m this horrible person for quitting on the spot, but they don’t know what really happened.

I submitted my official resignation to the district before she could even text again saying “I think the district will need a written paper. An email is fine” AN EMAIL IS FINE NOW??? God I’m still seething but I’m so glad I left. Everyone else there was so kind and understanding of my situation, but my main boss wasn’t and I don’t need that extra stress right now.

The good news is, I got an ultrasound done today & my baby is still looking fine! And my now former coworkers still checked in on me and asked me to keep them updated. I hope that administrator retires the moment she can in a year or two and I can take my job back without worrying about being stabbed in the back during a stressful time.

#miscarriage #pregnancy #shitty boss #I wanted to send the district her texts so bad #but I figured I’d just hold onto them for now #I contacted HR but only the superintendent responded #he at least said he understands my view point #but that’s more covering their asses than anything

[bronanlynch]

back at it again ranking aa4 lawyers based on how terrible I think they would be to work for if you were their file clerk. I’ve basically known how this was going to go since 4-2 but it still took over two weeks after finishing the game to make this post. I have a normal amount of thoughts & feelings I promise

phoenix: I was gonna say that since he’s not practicing he doesn’t need a file clerk anyway but actually I do think reforming the legal system takes quite a bit of paperwork and he could probably use a hand. still would absolutely not work for him tho. I prefer being compensated for my labor, especially if my boss is always either mysteriously absent or spouting cryptic bullshit. 0/10. not even a pity point this time. rip apollo

apollo: would be fine if he weren’t working for phoenix tbh. like if he had his own office and a slightly more well-established career I would absolutely work for him. he’s considerate, he seems horrified by the state of the WAA which is a green flag Imo, and he’s just. a decent guy and a good lawyer. also he had that line abt enjoying tedious procedure so I think we would get along, and more importantly, that tells me that he would be reasonably neat with his own files and not make my job more difficult either accidentally or on purpose. 7/10 would befriend him on l*nkedin just in case he ever starts his own firm

payne: look, the vibes aren’t great and I’m running out of jokes abt this guy. I will say that I think it’s incredibly funny how thoroughly he gets ignored in his own trial and being able to make fun of your boss with your coworkers (which you would have bc there’s no way there’s just one file clerk for the entire prosecutor’s office, y’know?) is a very important aspect of surviving a shitty workplace so. there’s that. 3/10, could survive it by mocking him but not ideal

klavier: he doesn’t even have a desk. he’s working on at least 3 cases at once but he keeps his cds and his guitars nicer and neater than his books or his case files. there are papers all over his floor and falling out of his filing cabinet. his one advantage over the real attorney I worked with who had an office approximately that messy is that at least klavier probably knows exactly where everything is himself, which is great for him but not especially helpful to the poor beleaguered file clerk trying to get his files updated as quickly as possible so they can escape his office with minimal hearing damage. 6/10, at least he’s like. friendly

kristoph: the best-case situation here is that you work for him for maybe a few years, overlapping with the beginning of apollo’s career as his assistant, because then you have the bonus of also having apollo as a coworker (see above), and then you leave for normal reasons, get him to give you a good reference for your next job while he’s still widely respected, and when you read abt the events of 4-1 in the news a few months later you go “damn that’s wild” and move on with your life

ok. listen. listen. obviously a boss who has committed murder is not ideal, for several obvious reasons including that murder is bad and also that if your boss goes to jail and his law firm closes you no longer have a job (rip apollo). but at least you could probably get unemployment for that, since it’s not your fault you don’t have a job anymore. anyway. the main point is, unfortunately, I do think he would be the best boss of any of these people (except probably apollo in a few years). he prob has a very specific filing system and he likes things to be done exactly right, but because he wants things to be done right, because having your files organized and up-to-date so that you can meet deadlines is how you avoid making yourself look like an idiot to the courts, it will be made very clear to you what the right way is, and that’s like. what you want when you’re organizing someone’s shit Imo. 8.5/10, he gets .5 taken off for each murder attempt

( aa1 | aa2 | aa3 )

#didn't do flashback versions as different characters this time oops #flashback phoenix is the same as aa3 phoenix. and flashback klav is like. idk. something pretty low #would not work for a teenager who works exactly one (1) case #no offense to klav. i do love him. i just think he would be a terrible boss when he was 17 #dreaming.txt #ace attorney

[witchthewriter]

hey hey!! i hope you’ve been doing well >:D. dude i’ve had a weird week but coming back on here and reading all your new stuff has been like instant relief lmao. if it’s alright, could i participate in the ship event again? if not that’s totally alright!! i put my information here again so you don’t need to scroll, but i switched up the fandoms a bit this time :)

fandoms: harry potter (marauders era if that’s okay), stranger things (ik i did stranger things for my initial request, but what can i say. i’m obsessed and elated that you paired me with eddie <3)

my mbti type is enfp, and i’m a libra if that helps any <3

i’m pretty outgoing! i like talking to people, i just suck at small talk lmao. apparently i come off like i’m flirting with people a lot of the time whoops-

shitty jokes are my jam. i have a mix of 13 year old boy and grandpa humour.

i’m creative but work in sporadic bursts, i’ll do nothing all day but then bust out a painted jacket because i get a surge of energy at one in the morning

big fan of organized chaos, my room is kind of cluttered but i know where everything is. i’ve got a personal vendetta against minimalism

i love making stuff for people and giving them gifts! it’s my love language lmao

i kickbox and do mma, i like the contrast of me having bright pink hair but being able to kick ass ahsgdgg

i also play bass and guitar! can’t sing for shit though

dream job is either as a freelance illustrator or museum curator. something that i’ll enjoy but will still give me time to myself. my idea of hell is having an office job

Want to be shipped? Here be the instructions 🦋

Oh my goodness, if you need someone to talk to my dms are open man. I completely understand!!! I had ... a really wild week too. But you saying that, it actually means the absolute WORLD to me. I mean it too! And you can absolutely keep wanting more! I can do personalised headcanons as well xx

What each ship has in common:

⋆ Fun-loving ⋆ Party animals ⋆ Comic relief ⋆ Soft-hearted ⋆ Bad boyesque 

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

Okay so this was actually really tricky. Because you're an ENFP (and this actually really does help, I love mbti and astrology!!! I'm an aquarius - anyway)

I was going to go with James, but I think you guys would clash a little. He seems a bit like an ENFP, possible an ENTP.

With Sirius, he does like to have some quiet time. I definitely see him as an ISTP/ESTP. Also he would definitely have Scorpio, Gemini and Saggitarius placements. So you would balance each other out!

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・He would be so in love with you man. Like he’d want to show you off to anyone and everyone

・You’d get along so well with James and Remus - like Sirius would sit back and be so goddam proud 

・You guys would be so mischevious. Possibly meeting at Hogwarts and having prank wars

・Winking at each other from across the room

・Excessive flirting and dirty jokes

・ Relationship tropes: aggressively supportive, Person A ‘having a hard life and learning to love + Person B ‘loving them unconditionally’, 

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

I didn't know if you wanted more headcanons with Eddie or you wanted a whole new ship? So I went with more headcanons. If you wanted me to ship you again, just say so my dear x

Okay so you and Eddie are like a dynamic duo. Absolute chaos. It's like you vibrate whenever you're together.

Also he is an ENFP. So it’s like two hype-men together dude.

𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

・You guys are literally so funny together, can you imagine what you’d get up to? All the shenanigans, the malarky, the absolute chaos. Oh my god.

・I think you would def do illegal stuff, but not like hurtful. Like maybe break into the high school after hours 

・I feel like you might be into DnD, and would be like the leader of the Hellfire group. And challenging Eddie so much as the Dungeon Master (he would NEVER let you see what he’s coming up with before hand btw)

・Giving him random objects you’ve found (rocks, once you found a silver ring!!!! pebbles, seashells etc) and him keeping ALL OF IT

・You guys are like best friends no lie, and basically inseparable 

・Relationship tropes: chaotic duo, always bring the party, feral partners in crime

#ships #ship game #let me ship you #open

[where-fading-princesses-live]

let’s talk about Blake Blachert, shall we?

i must be so bored that i’ve stooped so low to watch shitty youtubers. 

Blake Blachert is a pretty shitty youtuber. 

he’s a downbeat bum with no real job who lives in his car and drives cross country to play pranks on staff working at various stores as well as their unsuspecting customers. 

supposedly people think this is entertainment. 

there is nothing remotely entertaining about a guy who’s never worked a real job in his life who feels the need to pester people working 40 hours a week and making minimum wage. like, they work hard enough without some dumbass coming to bother them at work for some youtube views. 

he’s obviously never worked customer service. it’s bad enough we retail workers have to put up with shitty customers on a daily basis without the added bullshit of a youtuber. like, we don’t get paid enough to put up with that and you wonder why half the people featured in his videos (against their will, i might add) become so disgruntled. 

he claims to spread ‘’positivity’’ in his videos but all he does is annoy people to no end to a point where people start attacking him and cussing him out because he won’t leave them alone. 

there’s nothing wrong with harmless fun and harmless pranks but he goes too far. 

it’s store policy that you can’t film inside because it’s technically private property and tho filming inside a store is not technically ‘’illegal,’’ the store has every right to decide what you can and cannot do inside their store and they reserve the right to remove you from their premises if they feel you are violating store policy. 

Blake actually did get forcibly removed from a HOME DEPOT by a police officer because a customer felt intimidated and did not want to be filmed. Blake refused to respect the wishes of the customer and continued to invade their privacy and staff called police who informed him that filming was not technically illegal but the store had the right to decide what he could do and wanted him to leave. 

he gets booted out of every store in the first 5 or 10 minutes of walking in for not even making an effort to conceal the camera, to which he always comes up with the lame punchline that, ‘’oh he [the camera man] is not filming, he’s CoMpUtInG.’’ 

Blake always underestimates the intelligence of the people he’s pranking. dude, c’mon, it’s 2022, do you think people have never seen a camera before or know what filming looks like?

they ask him nicely over and over, ‘’please stop filming’’ and he won’t. 

sometimes he’ll pretend his camera man is deaf and mute, which is also very lame.

he never fools the people he’s attempting to prank because they’re a lot smarter than he gives them credit for.

he’ll also repeat questions back at them, like once he walked into an art gallery or something and inquired if the jewelry in the gift shop was an ‘’artifact.’’

the saleslady simply replied, ‘’sir, this is jewelry, recently made. it’s modern. it’s not an artifact.’’

he goes, ‘’oh those are really cool artifacts.’’

‘‘sir, it’s jewelry, it’s not an artifact.’‘

and it’ll just go on and on like that. he thinks he’s being cute and funny when he’s just being annoying. 

the problem with videos like these is that the majority of his fanbase will be young kids and teens who don’t know any better and will use this grown ass man as a role model for how they might act in public (which is extremely immature, by the way).

other youtubers have done similar videos and so rather than spreading ‘’positivity’’ and appreciating the hard work of customer service or sales associates, videos like these end up spreading negativity. 

maybe some people won’t mind being pestered at work like this but i know i sure won’t like it. 

and if Blake ever walked into my store, i’d cut off his balls and shove them down his throat. 

#youtube rant #youtube #personal shit

[biancaezperanzaanapaula]

Today April 7, 2023 at 3:41am

I have yet again opened up about myself to a friend. These past few days have been very noticeably tiring and depressing. I feel so shitty these days. Something's changing with me. I get so emotional and my anxieties are getting stronger. I thought I handled it or overcome it over the time. I did maybe, at some point. I had forgotten about my anxieties for a while when I'm working. My work right now is triggering something inside me. I'm on a work from home basis. I have a lot of time for myself now, plenty of sleep, and earning more money. But then again, there's one thing I hate from this kind of work from home set up. It made me lazy to the bones. It made me super lazy that I wake up just to open my laptop and then turn it off when I'm about to sleep. It's like there's nothing in between me and work anymore. I work unreasonably late, and I wake up at a extraordinary late. And it does not feel good at all. My body is going down. My body clock is officially broken. With work going on, it had been very stressful, I feel so pressured at my work to be honest. Cuz I don't know what to do. I had been stress eating which I can feel that I have gained weight. On weekends, I would rather lay in bed all day sleeping, not even thinking of eating on weekends just sleep. Cuz I feel so drained and so fucking tired for the whole week. But then regretting it by the time Monday came, cuz I didn't do anything on the weekend. I have not been very productive on my day offs. I absolutely did nothing for the whole day. And that makes me feel like shit. It sucks. I don't have the energy. I don't even go and buy decent food to eat cuz my laziness. I can even not have a shower for 3 days, but still I change clothes tho, but heck, it's worst. I don't have that motivation lately. I was not taking care of myself. And I would feel terrible about it, for not having to do anything at all for the whole day.

I didn't realize it at first, but as time passed. It's growing on me. It's triggering me somehow. Everything. Even this friend of mine, he's triggering one of my emotions that just hurts the hell out of me which is stupid to think of me. I was self sabotaging. Yes. I am. Overthinking. But then just shuts down people. Especially my family. I hate myself for ignoring them, for not answering their calls and messages. Am I a terrible person now? What kind of a cousin, a sister, a daughter am I? That I can just easily ignore them. Like am I detaching myself from them? Not answering any of their calls and texts. Who does that? That's not normal, yet I can do that to them. Then just making excuses. But at the same time, it's just hard to answer them when I'm so stressed at work and so pressured with work and with them.

Yes, I feel so pressured at my family. This is because, since I have this new job that pays well. I may have promised to renovate our house back home, that I will loan a big amount of money. Which I can do and will do. However I need more time. But since they got the idea now, it's just so hard when they slipped some questions on when will I provide the money for the renovation. When? When? When? I couldn't answer yet, since I myself, is dealing with myself too. I can't get myself to go to that Goddamn government office to loan cuz I was too tired from work. I wake up only minutes before my shift start, and then do massive overtime until the only thing that stops me from working is when I have to go to bed and sleep. What kind of set up is that? Right?

But then again, I know what I have to do, I know what I needed to do. But I'm doing nothing, it's always, "mamaya nalang", "may bukas pa". I'm procrastinating real bad. I didn't have the discipline on my own body anymore. And I fucking hate it.

And then, there are nights where I couldn't get myself to sleep. It would take me 4am or even worst 6am to finally fall asleep. But I get into bed like 2am after my work. And in between those 2am laying in bed to 6am falling asleep. I'm overthinking. My thoughts are over flowing, about the past and some other stuffs. I would have random thoughts. I would even cry at night or touch myself, then cry again to myself asleep. Me bursting into tears are my emotions that are put of control. I would just scroll through my phone and when I see something sad, I initially get sad and then the rest is history. It would brought up my dead grandmothers and dead uncle and I would instantly cry and just self pitty. And hate myself for not being there for my family. And like questioning myself am I going depressed? It feels like every night nowadays I cry. I feel sad. I feel so alone. I feel so detached from everything. For the first time of living independently alone for almost 7years. I feel so alone. I feel so sad. I don't think I'm happy with my life right now.

I even wonder, what if I have someone, i didn't live alone. Would it be different? Ofcourse it would. Cuz then, I would have someone to talk to. I wouldn't have all these thoughts to myself.

I'm afraid now of being alone. Because I feel like any minute I would have an anxiety attack or panic attacks and I have no one with me. I am worried about myself now these days. But before, I was just an easy go, happy go lucky gal, day to day. But now I'm afraid and worried. One time my boss asked me during our one on one session, how am I doing with the work from home set up and the new job and new apartment etc. I said fine, managing, adjusting. Then she said, "how about your family? Don't you miss them". And you know what I said, "Not really" so casually. And that kinda surprised her, she may think I was like kidding like "really you don't miss them". And then I said, "Cuz I don't think about them, I don't think about them, that's why I don't miss them". I kinda said that a bit in a humor manner. But still. Shit! I said that so easily. But in my defense, I think in a way, I just wanted to look cool or like portray that I'm a strong woman or something. But that's all bullshit. Thinking about it. I regretted saying those words. How can I say those words so casually. I actually said, I don't think about them that's why I don't miss them. Hearing it over and over in my head. That somehow scared me. It made me sick. That I wanted to cry. I'm the worst. And then I would feel all these emotions again over and over. One thing, I would over care too much, overthinking, then there's one thing when like it's nothing to me. And that's what I'm more afraid of. Like I'm in this swings of emotions. On and off. And when it's off, I shut down. I shut down everything. Not caring. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Sometimes I feel like I need a therapist. I need help. I need support. I need to do something before it gets worst. My friend told me, I should at least share what I'm going through if this is really depression, I should share it with my family. And he said that if I tell them, they would understand. And that hit me hard. That hit the nail. I have a great family. My Ma&Pa would understand, my brothers would understand and support me they would want to hear from me. I'm just so afraid. To look weak. To cry. I can't even run to them for help. And that hurts me so bad.

What am I going to do?

[darkesttimelinejeffparker]

Hope it's okay if I have a few for your ask game ☺️

12

25

41

160

207

Hi love! I don’t mind at all.

12: The question you ask new friends to get to know them better? It depends on the circumstances. I usually look for something in common and try to get their takes, especially hot ones. But at this age, I don’t feel like I make a lot of new friends out in the wild. I get introduced to a friend’s acquaintances or meet someone at work (where I no longer actively make friendships that would extend out of the office), and so it really depends. This makes me sound super bitchy but I am an indoor cat and an introvert until I observe someone enough to get to know them and I have a very limited social battery bandwidth. I am much more outgoing places like Tumblr but even that is more me going “this is me and what I am like” and if people decide to engage with this hot mess, I accept that friendship. 😂

25: Actor/actress you trust enough to watch whatever they’re in? I don’t know if there is one! I am so picky about media consumption. There are a lot of performers I love, but genres I do not touch like horror/thriller kind of things are not my bag and there are subject matters that can trigger me. So it’s like, I love Tom Hiddleston but there are movies of his I won’t watch based on those things. For the most part I trust the Rock to mostly star in suped up action or silly family friendly movies that require little brain power but I also wouldn’t watch all of them.

41: Do I have any strange phobias? I don’t know if it’s a phobia but I don’t like or trust squirrels and I think I have a strong case to make about why they are actually aliens.

160: What colour mostly dominates my wardrobe? Probably black and navy blue but that’s because a lot of my old work clothes were pretty neutral when I went to an office all the time and a lot of my t-shirts now are on a black base.

207: Worst job I’ve had? I have had many bad jobs for a lot of different reasons, retail was not for me even though I was good at it, political campaigns required 100 hour work weeks with no overtime and a lot of burn out. But the worst job I actually had was my first full time job where I worked in rapid response and crisis communications with a focus on opposition research. It was super toxic and I got yelled and cursed at by my boss who had a documented reputation for verbal abuse of staff but was also so smart and talented at getting results that back then it was just a thing I had to deal with for the sake of a paycheck. But the part that was rough is when we didn’t have a tracker, I would get sent to events with a tape recorder, basically posing as a supporter, hoping the guy our client was running against would say something horrible we could use against him. And even though he was awful and had no place in elected office based on policy and actions, following someone around hoping they fail so you can exploit it is just a shitty goal to have at work.

#asks: answered

[quadraphonictypewriter]

I am feeling very very stressed and overwhelmed and I just want to scream, it's like sensory overload but information overload at the same time. Task overload.

#i feel ashamed about it and thats why its hard to address it. #because im overwhelmed from tasks. i dokt get to do things for me #my boyfriend was sitting at the table and smoking while looking at stuff online. he kept talking to me about his finds #but meanwhile i made a cake (which was my own birthday cake) and then cleaned up #made bread dough and made supper. ate supper with him. then cleaned up again. made coffee and sat down #only to be asked to look at stuff online. and then we had to go to bed to get up early today #i barely sat down and it stresses me out #but i feel so bad because he works all week in a shitty office job and i have housework but as soon as hes off the clock #hes asking me to do things (sometimes wjrth him if he can do part of it) and i dokt have a break between then #like today: i prepped the bread to bake and then did the dishes. i said i was miffed avout having to dishes to wash so early in the day #he said -well its not so bad youll be done in a minute then make breakfast- like. yeah but IM the one making breakfast. so i have to BOTH #and sometimes it gets so exhausting. #he sleeps better than i do too. last night we went to bed at 10pm with the alarm set for 6:30am. he fell asleep at 10:05 but me at midnight #i woke up at 2am to pee and then at 5:30am i wake up and so does he. i drink water and he goes to pee then asks the time #when i told him he said -does it evsn make a difference if we get up now- so i went -absolutely it does. im sleeping- #like!! you slept solid for 7 hours but i barely slept 5 hours tossing and turning #the new pain meds are helping so my baseline pain is like 3 or 4 on a scale to 10 instead of being 6/10. #but im still sore all the time and it flares up #and I'm not sleeping well and i had to stopt therapy because of no in-person appointments. im struggling and its exhausting #i appreciate everything that he does for us and i know he works so hard. but im struggling and its hard to admit it because i feel bad #i feel bad because his work is hard too. sow why should i complain? im a housewife. but im a young woman and ive had years of struggle #and im not completely out of it #anyway. thats it for now #kelly.tor

[that-disabled-radfem]

Happy back-to-school y’all

I’ve attended and worked at a couple of super liberal universities. I avoid the gender studies departments for obvious reasons and I still had a lecture in which the female prof gave a brief overview of TERFs and proclaimed her hatred of JKR. Being openly critical of gender ideology, the porn industry, kinks, and ‘sex work’ are the kind of things that can ruin your future in academia. Not to mention the fact that any speech or actions that could be labelled transphobic (ie. defining woman as adult human female) can get you a suspension according to many universities anti-hate-speech policies. 

So, here’s a list of small and smallish (small in terms of overt TERFery, some may require more effort than others) radical feminist actions you can take as a university student:

(this is a liberal arts perspective so if you’re a stem gal this may not apply. but also if you’re in stem maybe you can actually acknowledge that women are oppressed as a sex class without getting kicked out of school. idk)

(Note for TRAs hate reading this: One of the core actions of radical feminism is creating female networks. This is not so that we can brainwash people into being anti-trans. This is because female solidarity is necessary for creating class consciousness and overturning patriarchy. It is harder to subjugate the female sex when we stand together.)

Take classes with female profs. Multiple sections of a class? Pick the one taught by a woman. Have to chose an elective? Only look at electives offered by women. When classes have low numbers they get cancelled. When classes are super popular, universities are forced to consider promoting the faculty that teach them

Make relationships with these female profs. Go to office hours. Chat after class. Ask them about their research. Building female networks is sooooo important!

Actually fill in your end of year course feedback forms. Profs often need these when applying for tenure or applying for a job at another university so it is very important (especially with young and/or new profs) that you fill out these forms and give specific examples of how great these women are. Go off about what you love about them! Give her a brilliant review because you know the idiot boy in that class who won’t shut up even though he knows nothing is going to give her only negative feedback because he thinks any woman who leaves the house is a feminazi b*tch. 

(note: obviously don’t go praising any prof - female or male - who is blatantly racist, homophobic, etc.)

(Also if you have shitty male profs write down all the horrible things they have done and said and put it in these forms because once a shitty man gets tenure they are virtually untouchable)

(also also, leave a good review on rate my profs or whatever other thing students use to figure out if they want to take classes. idc if you copy paste your feedback from the formal review. rave about the class to your friends. do what you can to get good enrolment for that prof for reasons above.)

Participate in class. Talk over the male students. Say what you mean and mean it. Call out the boys when they say dumb shit

Write about women. If you have the option to make a text written by a woman your primary text in an essay, do it. Pick the female-centred option if you’re writing an exam-essay with multiple prompts. (Profs often look at what works on their syllabus are being written about/engaged with as a marker of whether to keep those texts the next time they teach the class. If there are badass women on your syllabus, write about them to keep them on the syllabus) Use female-written secondary sources whenever possible. 

(pro tip: many women in academia are more than happy to talk to you about their papers. expand your female networks by reaching out to article authors through email and asking them about their cool shit)

Get your essays published! Many departments have undergrad journals you can publish in. This will ensure more people read about the women you write about and will demonstrate to the department that people like learning about women

Consider trying to publish your undergrad essay with a legit peer-reviewed journal. If you can do it, your use of female-written secondary sources boosts the reputations of the women who wrote those secondary sources. Also this helps generally to increase scholarship about women’s writing!

Present your papers at conferences! Many schools have their own undergraduate/departmental conferences that you can present at. Push yourself by submitting to outside conferences. Bring attention to women’s works by presenting your papers. Take a space at a conference that would otherwise be reserved for mediocre men

Talk to your profs and/or your department and/or your university about mandating the inclusion of female works in classes if this isn’t something they do already

Sit next to other women in your classes. Talk to them. Make friends. Form study groups. Proofread each other’s essays. Give each other knowing looks when the boys are being dumb. Just interact with other women! Build those female networks!

Be generous with your compliments. A female classmate and I were talking to a prof after class and the classmate told me (out of the blue) that I always have such interesting things to say. I think about that whenever I’m lacking confidence about my academic skills. Compliment the women in your classes for speaking up, for sharing their opinions, for challenging your classmates/profs, for doing cool presentations, etc.

Talk to other women about sexist things going on on campus. Make everyone aware of the sexist profs. Complain about how there are many more tenured men than tenured women. Go on rate my professor and be explicit about how the sexist profs are sexist

Be active on campus and in societies. If a society has an all male executive or is male-dominated, any women who join that society make it less intimidating for more women to join. Run for executive positions! Bring in more women! 

(Pro tip: Many societies’ elections are super gameable. You can be eligible to vote in a society election sometimes just by being a student at that university — even without having done anything with the society before. Other societies might just require that you’ve taken a class in a particular department or attended a society event. (Check the society’s governing documents.) Use those female networks you’ve been building. If you can bring three or four random people to vote for you, that might be enough for you to win. Societies have trouble meeting quorum (the minimum number of people in attendance to do votes) so it is really super achievable to rig an election with a few friends. And don’t feel bad about this. The system is rigged against women so you have every right to exploit loopholes!)

(Also feel free to go vote “non-confidence”/“re-open election” if only shitty men are running. Too often people see that only candidates they don’t like are running and so they give up. But you can actually stop them getting elected)

Your campus may have a LGBTQIA+alphabetsoup society. That society definitely needs more L and B women representation. It may be tedious to argue with the nb straight dudes who insist that it’s fine to use “q***r” in the society’s posters and that attraction has nothing to do with genitals, but just imagine what could happen if we could make these sorts of societies actually safe spaces for same-sex attracted women and advocated for our concerns

Attend random societies’ election meetings. Get women elected and peace out. (or actually get involved but I’m trying to emphasize the lowest commitment option with this one)

Write for the campus newspaper. Write about what women are doing - women’s sports, cool society activities, whatever. Review female movies, books, tv shows, local theatre productions. Write about sexism on campus. We need more female by-lines and more stories about women

Get involved with your campus’s sexual assault & r*pe hotline/sexual assault survivor’s centre/whatever similar organization your campus has if you can. This is hard work and definitely not for everyone (pls take care of yourself first, especially if you are a survivor)

(If your campus doesn’t have an organization for supporting survivor’s of sexualized violence, start one! This is probably going to be a lot of hard work though, so don’t do it alone)

Talk to your student council about providing free menstrual hygiene products on campus if your campus doesn’t already do this. If your campus provides free condoms (which they probs do), use that as leverage (ie. ‘sex is optional, menstruation is not. so why do we have free condoms and no free pads?’)

If you’re an older student, get involved with younger students (orientation week and such activities are good for this). Show the freshman that you can be a successful and well-liked woman without shaving your legs, wearing heels, wearing make-up, etc. Mentor these young women. Offer to go for coffee or proofread essays. 

Come to class looking like a human being. Be visibly make-up less, unshaven, unfeminine, etc. to show off the many different ways of being a woman

Talk to the custodial staff and learn their names. (I know there are men who work in this profession, but it is dominated by low-income women) Say hi in the hallways, ask them about their lives, show them they’re appreciated

Be explicit with your language. When you are talking about sex-based oppression, say it. Don’t say ‘sex worker’ when you mean survivor of human trafficking. This tip is obviously a bit tricky in terms of overt TERFyness, so use your best judgement

That’s all from me for now! Feel free to add your suggestions and remember that feminism is about action

#back to school #university #terf safe #terfs DO interact #feminist action